A siren goes off in the city. Those who hear take warning. And men say, “Lives were saved”.
A voice cries in the wilderness, for the Glory of the Most High God through His Holy and Righteous Son. Who hears, but those who passed by. Who hears, but those who seek out his words.
And who in the city will know there is a man in the wilderness speaking words of life? Only those to whom the message has been brought. Only those to whom the place has been mapped out.
By His Grace
A man was very thirsty when he came upon a small pond. There was an old man sitting by the side of the pond sipping a glass of water.
The man knew the water was safe, for the old man was in fine shape. So he bent down to take a handful of water to his mouth.
“I wouldn’t drink that if I were you.” The old man said. Startled, the man threw the water back into the pond. He looked at the old man with squinty eyes.
“Where’d you get the water you’re drinking?” The man’s voice had a twinge of greed. The old man just peered up under the brim of his hat. “I got it from the pond.” Was the slow and level response.
“Do you own this pond?” The man asked. “Nope. I got directions here.” Now the thirsty man was a bit perplexed. “This ain’t your pond. But you can sit there and drink the water while I dehydrate to death? This is crazy!”
“Son, there is a pond for strangers at the bottom of the hill. You can drink till you explode down there. The water here is poisoned.” The man gave the old man a sidewards glance. “If its poisoned, how come you ain’t dead?”
The old man stretched a bit, like he was remembering a fond moment. “I got a bag of healing powder from the guy who owns this place. That’s why I can drink this here water. But you better not son.”
The thirsty man would have stood there to argue, but he was far too thirsty. So he gave a dry spit toward the old man and started down the hill.
He heard the old man mutter, “Pride. . . You’ll be back boy. Somebody thirsty as you is bound to meet the owner of this place.” Not understanding what he meant, the thirsty man just kept going.
By His Grace
Flatter a man, and nothing ever happens. In effect, you’ve lied to him. You only gave him the strength to stay where he is.
Speak to him about how his pride is condemned, and the chances are pretty good, he will hate you for life. Again you’ve accomplished nothing, but at least you told him the truth. And the “nothing” produced, belongs to him.
Or you could choose the road that most people take. You could simply stick your head in the sand and refuse to help one another see.
There are three approaches to our plight as human beings: flattery, bold truth, or ignorance. If there is another one, somebody has to show it to me.
Most of the time people play in the sandbox together, and refrain from war, by busying themselves with the toys at hand. Until a squabble develops over a certain toy. Then the three approaches come to bear with immediacy.
One of the protagonist will obviously be in the wrong. I’m not saying the other was right. But one of them abandoned his own toy with greed for what lay in the other man’s hand. That’s pretty much the sum of what causes wars in the world.
Now let’s look at the options. Maybe we will flatter the man and say something like, “Wow you’re a good looking and strong fellow. Perhaps you would play with this toy better than me”.
Success! The man gives you I look of filthy distain, grabs your toy, sticks his nose up in the sky, and walks away.
Well maybe you weren’t very successful. Because now you’re sitting there trying to make a sand castle out of dry sand. But at least you live to play another day.
Yeah, you live to play another day. He gets what he wants because your flattery worked. But you have not helped the next poor bloke. In fact you made it worse on the next guy. Now Mr Pompous, the thief, believes he deserves to win. How cool is that? I feel horribly sorry for the subsequent victims.
Now since this is my story, I’m going to inject a lover of ignorance as his next victim. I was going to put a truth teller here. But that doesn’t follow suit with Hollywood’s playbook. And I was afraid you would think it was the end of the story.
Mister pompous looks over and sees the toy in the hand of the one who loves ignorance. (The guy really should have been born an Ostrich. But God decided to withhold the feathers.)
The second Mr Pompous’ shadow darkens the toy, the lover of ignorance finds something immediately more pressing to do. Leaving the toy unattended, as if by mindless action, Pompous gets what he wants.
Bolstered again. “I really do deserve everything!” Just peachy.
But you know who comes next. I only have four people in this story. Two of them have already given up, and one of them is still quite active.
There’s Mr Truth Teller. playing with his toy. He saw what happened to the other two. In his nature, he determined to stand his ground.
Most people would call him an idiot. Because there’s a very good chance he’s going to get buried in the sandbox. But it simply isn’t his nature to care.
He’s not a hero. That’s how people are going to paint him though. He just leans hard on the truth. That’s his home. And he’ll stay in it, even if it burns to the ground. “Bring it on Mr Pompous.”
The shadow arrives, and it’s as if the owner of the toy is blind and deaf. And when the filthy hand reaches to grab, it receives a sharp slap on the wrist. The statement of war is pronounced. And the sandbox gets really quiet.
Mr Truth Teller stands up. If you look real close, you can see his knees shake a little bit. But he sticks his face right into near proximity with Mr Pompous. And then he says something that saves his life.
“You see all these people around us? They lied to you. They told you you deserve to have everything you want. Well I’m going to tell you the truth. This toy belongs to me.
Now you stand in front of me, faced with a dilemma. You can slap me to the ground and take what you want. But those who lied to you are watching.
When you slap me, you just might wake them up. And there’s a whole lot more of them then there is of you. You might want to give that some thought before you raise that greedy hand.”
Then Mr Truth Teller gives Mr Pompous a stern sharp nod, and goes back down to play with his toy. I’m not going to finish the story here by telling you what happened next.
Chaos does what chaos does. You know the odds as well as I. And you fully understand the risk Mr Truth Teller is taking. But you also perceive it is for your good.
There’s a good chance Mr Pompous will back off. There’s also a good chance, that if he strikes Mr Truth Teller, all of you will stand up and pummel him into the sand.
But there are greater odds that he will strike Mr Truth Teller. And you will do nothing in response. One of you might dial 911. But you won’t stand up and get in his face. There’s a reason why those kinds of headlines are sensational. It’s really rare when people do the right thing.
By His Grace
People will not go to places that do not please them. They will not go to church or read their Bible, because these do not cater to the desires of man.
Men love freedom. One would think that if there is a place they cannot go, they would mend their ways to rid themselves of an obstacle. But they simply say to themselves, “Well it is only one place I cannot go”. So they gladly accept the restriction and think they are free.
They do not realize that the place where their freedom is taken, is called eternity.
By His Grace
I went down to feed our outside dog. He is an amiable, lovable creature. The big galoot wags his massive tail, and smiles with open jaw, exposing his sharp teeth. Woe to the one he despises.
I poured the food to the ground. Why not? It is his plate. Why waste time to put it on a platter, as if I would feed a man. He will not clean it and put it away for me. It will only blow around in the wind.
So I go upstairs and look out the window to watch him enjoy his meal. He has finished eating before I arrived at the window.
He was not hungry enough to finish the entire meal. And what I see him doing reminds me of Man. He is happily urinating on his food.
“This is mine!” He proclaims with vulgarity. “Come eat what I have if you will, but you will not like the taste.”
I see it in the streets. I see it as they’re shopping. I see it in their homes, even among those they say they love. And I have been witness to it in the best of possible places for man; The Church.
By His Grace
The message of Man to God: “We will dictate to you our desire and you will succumb. We will play in our filthy way until we have had enough, and sleep. And you will receive us because you are love!
Your people walk among us and demand too much. They accuse us of wanton behavior. We are sick of their meddling words! We only do what is natural, and you unjustly accuse us.
We have attained freedom from your so called holy ways. Now we revel in the filthy streets as pleases us to do. We will not come in and be properly dressed! Send your people out that they may revel with us in this filthy place.
You have commanded us, and we have had enough. And now as you can see, we put our feet firmly in the filth and command you! Now be the love you say you are, and send them out to play with us!”
So you have said in all your unholy and ungodly way. You do the things that are filthy. And with your unholy mouth you command the Sovereign God.
It will not go well with you when the Lord rises. He will surely rise and all you rebellious youth will be destroyed from his Holy House. He will rise up and expose your filthy ways.
As you are defiant now, so you will be on that day of His Rising. The Holy One has spoken, “There will be weeping and gnashing of teeth”.
Who are the wise among you? Who will perceive that these words are true? Who will approach the porch of the Holy house of God and beg entrance and cleanliness? For he has also spoken, that those who do so with earnest heart, will be cleansed and well fed. Forgiveness demands repentance.
See how it remains before you; the choice between life and death. Respond now and live. Remain in your rebellious filth and you will surely die.
By His Grace
We: Live, Die, Face Judgment. Jesus or die twice.
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