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For an agenda the people are sold. And the payment for them rots before it reaches the hand of he who sold them.
“I want this.”
“Well, l want that.”
Off they go to get what they want. It never turns out as pristine as their imagination told them it would be.
God has an agenda. Who wants to agree with Him?
The only time it’s too late is when you no longer breathe the air of this world.
It is not my clothing that makes me beautiful. It is not the most exquisite possession that makes me important. It is not the agility of my flesh or mind, nor formidable power of my heroic will.
It is that the will of God works in me to accomplish the will of God. This makes me eternally valuable and pristinely beautiful. Such beauty is not open for debate.
It is so with everyone of his people whom he himself has called.
Jesus is first. Jesus IS. Jesus forever will be: the beauty of God, the majesty of God, the preeminence of God, and Life.
Value what you will, nothing on earth or in the imagination of man, can compare to the Glory of the Living God’s Holy Son; The Lord of HIS glory – both in this place and forever sealed in HIS temple.
THIS IS BEAUTY DEFINED!
The Lord came to his field of flowers on one beautiful spring morning. There he saw that a thistle had grown up and was about to spread his malicious seed. So he reached out his will and transformed the thistle to a flower.
No more malicious seeds to cast about, the thistle took note of his changed appearance. The Lord said to him, “See how I have had mercy on you. I had no intention to pluck you from the ground. But I have made you as one of these, that I may have pleasure in your life”.
With his Newfound body the thistle returned his most excellent thanks. For 3 days he worshipped the Lord who gave him the best of purpose.
On the morning of the fourth day he gathered his mind to look about him. After his 3 days of thanks, he expected to hear “Amen” from all the flowers about him. To his astonishment, the flowers simply swayed in the breeze. They spent their time soaking in the richest God had provided. But they would only, now and then, whisper a word of thanks. But how loudly they praised one another for their beauty.
How should the thistle respond to his new-found brothers?
How I find my soul longing, from time to time, for the place where the following is not:
The torrent of vulgarities, Lies, hatred, violence, wickedness in all its various forms, Godless gods worshipped by empty Souls, the flood of Sorrow we own from the day we are born, the Hopeless fear of loneliness, the endless oppression of weakness, the constant and frantic gathering for those things we should not have, the ceaseless grappling for knowledge, etc.
In the place I am desiring, all that is good thrives and grows. In the place I am presently living, everything that is good is referred to as a shame. The diligent receive vulgar labels. The unrighteous are heralded as icons of maturity.
I long for a rain of righteous words. I search for a field of beings whose pure smiles are full of endless Joy. Here we pay dearly for a simple friendly embrace. But in this place I have heard of, friendship never ceases.
Here they love you as long as you are profitable. But love in the place of my heart has no measure or monetary value.
Days turn into weeks, weeks turn to months, months turn into years and years turn to decades; where the lack of Love begins to wear down the mind.
Let hatred die, as surely it must. Let the despising isolation fade Into Oblivion. Let the race for pride fall in mid gait.
Come Lord Jesus!
Everyday I see you. Yes you are noticed. Even in the night, with the doors locked and the windows shaded over, you are being watched.
Every breath and heartbeat is counted, up to its leveling sum; that day when they add up to ceasing. That day you cannot predict, as you now do your public behavior.
Most of the time you are like a woman dressed in finery, posing for a painting, with a delicate and entrancing smile. Those who see you gasp with joy at the beauty you represent. But I have seen you when you think no one is watching.
Then, you are like a ravenous lion; unrestrainable drewl escaping, wild eyed, and hungry to violence for what you desire.
Then, your entrancing beauty is obscured by your greed. Your beautiful habits, disheveled by illicit craving.
Yes you have been noticed, as is your compelling want. Yes you have been seen, but not as you expect. You rehearsed vigorously but it did you no good. For every man owns moments of vulnerable appearance.
You disturbed the air with movements unlawful. You spoke with voiceless words of filthy attitude. You reached with wide eyed greed to grasp what was not yours. You gave no thought to prying eyes.
Nothing we do or are is hidden from the eyes of Him to whom we must give account. For in Him we live and move and have our being.
By His Grace
“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.Â
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.Â
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.
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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.Â
“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.
We: Live, Die, Face Judgment. Jesus or die twice.
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