“You Didn’t Build That. . . “


Walk through a grave yard and no one waves hello.  Smile at a blind man and he has no idea you even looked at him.  So it is with those who live in the land of the dead.  Though you introduce yourself they have no idea what you’re saying.  And even if you offered them the bounty of the King Jesus they would simply laugh.

With that introduction, we turn to the picture.  What business is it of the world if we prefer to do our Father’s bidding beyond the eyes of the dead?  And if we explained what we are told to do they would not understand it.  So they turn to insults against the King of Kings and His people.  Is this the best they can do?  Of course this is the best they can do.  They haven’t heard the Lord’s voice direct them in the things of the Father.  So they naturally think no one else has either.

Just as an aside:  The response to Chick-fil-a was more a matter of support for free speech than it was a Christian response to an unjust accusation.

Our Personal Altar


Jesus, my God and King.  I stop here to lay a white stone on the top of my altar of life.  As a child I started this altar with little balls of mud I rolled in my hands as I encountered the truth of Your Holy ways.  Each little ball  represented a firm truth that was only perceived, not yet learned to live out in my ways.  But each one gave you Glory for Your perfect teachings.

Next came the smooth little pebbles I found on the edge of the River of Life which you took me to go see from time to time.  You let me drink from the edge as was wise according to Your endless wisdom.  Then you drove me back to where You found me to have advanced.  In this You watched to see what I would do with what You had given.

Then You drove me to the edges of that vast desert of life among men.  Walking out a half day’s journey, I received what you offered to prove my heart.  Dryness, loneliness, stark reality appeared before me as a living image of the relationships between man and man, and God and man.  Jagged rocks began to be placed on this altar of Glory to You.

You gave me strength I did have.  You gave the strength of Sampson from time to time.  And I placed immense boulders on the altar as You brought me to them in “The Way”.  You did not let me go around them.  Rather You bid me pick them up and stack them for Your Glory.  Amazement and worship filled me as each bolder of trouble was removed and placed on this Holy testimony to Your eternal love.

And now I reach in my pocket and pull out a smooth white stone.  With loving fingers I place it atop the great and growing pile of worship to You.  Through prayer I let it go to see where it will rest.  Little noises come to my ears as it finds its way to rest amid this pile of testimony.  And I watch it disappear into the pile.  As it became Yours, it now is hidden from sight.  Only You know where it now lay.  And all the more is Your Glory.  For You will testify that it has been laid within the altar which can never be torn down.

Glory is Yours!  For You see what we cannot.  Even the understanding You give us finds its place in our heart.  We perceive where You placed it.  Yet, even as we perceive it the understand disappears into the man You are causing us to become.  Only You know where it lay.  And on the day You cause us to appear before You, You will expose each response to what You have done.  All Glory is Yours.  And this will be so forever.

These words are Yours.  They come from a servant You have blessed with life.  I testify to man.  But You see the testimony that even Your servant cannot perceive.  Thus all Glory is Yours Forever; and that to the Glory of Your Father who Lives in unapproachable light!  You, Jesus, Son of the Most High God, are worthy of every possible good word.  May all who call on Your Holy Name do so with a trembling soul.  For You are given Immense Beauty from the God of all things.  You are worthy!  And Your worth is stamped with the approval of the Father of Life.  Amen!

I’m Not the King.


Delivery Truck

I presented a witness to you.

And you thought you mocked me.

I stood before you and spoke.

And you shot your hatred at my head.

I did not flinch, nor did my soul respond.

While the dust of your words passed me by.

I knew, without doubt, that those words you cast out,

Were not meant for one such as I.

The dust of your words left no trace upon me.

Every speck has landed somewhere else.

It is the Lord you’ve insulted.

I am only His messenger to your face.

And how foolish to dash the messenger,

Then turn and boast that you have killed the King.

 

By His Grace.