Broken, Not Destroyed


I don’t know what value this is. Maybe it’s only valuable to me; to let my heart speak the words.  

What is Christ to me? He is a painful love. Yet, it’s not that he is painful but that I am from destruction.  


I see his love. I feel his love. I strive, with everything I have, to do his love. Yet the culture of the place where I am from often interferes with peace.  


The pain is not because of his love. Pain does not come from there. It comes from the store house of memories; wrapped around every thought like a leaching vine on a dying tree.  


I remember I did this to someone. I remember I failed to recognize someone else’s pain. Missed moments. Murderous moments. Distracted by selfishness. Wasted times, Times spent trying to survive, encased in a body full of greed.  


Sigh. So it is. But I would rather live this horror, with his love as my target, than to spend another moment living that useless life I have come to regret so deeply.  


Let this be an apology where no words can repair. Let this stand as a testimony to true Christianity.  


The Spirit of God calls, provokes, leads, and encourages toward what is holy. The unholy part of me must succumb. And I am gratefully thankful to my God that his promise is to destroy the destroyer. He is the rock upon which we are broken. Yet woe to those upon whom it falls, for they shall be utterly ground to powder.  


Be glorified Holy Father, for the work of Your own hands in the souls You have chosen to love.  

Murdering Hope


Two things will kill a man.

One is to ignore the righteous demands of life.  The other is to fail to look deeply into the gospel of Christ.

The first will cause untold hardship in this life.  Regret and a misshapen identity will haunt everyday you live in this world.  You will live all your days as if a walking deadman.  In the end, you will despise the man you have been.

The second will do the same thing for eternity.

The Now.


A man doesn’t look at his watch to see what time it was.  His watch can only tell him what time it is.  It doesn’t tell him what time it’s going to be.  It tells him what time it is.  You can’t lay hold of the past.  And you can’t lay hold of the future.

Regret reminds him of what time it was.  Perhaps we regret that we cannot have the good times we had.  Or we may regret that we have destroyed joy, for ourselves or others.

What is regret but a knowledge of what is right.  A knowledge of appropriate restraint.  Truth restrains us in “the now”.  You’re not going back my friend.  And as you reach the future you bring the old man with you.  What you did back then, you are doing now. You need a change of heart, not a change of time.

We may look at the past desiring some pleasant time.  Or we may look at the past, regretting abject folly.  But we can only do this looking from “the now”.  The man who lives in Nostalgia does not know what time it is.  Regrettably, this is to his constant loss.

Nostalgia will always be beyond our grasp.  But regret can happily thrive in our house.  All the while, truth says something imperative.  “I am here.  Come live with me.  I am here to offer you life.”

It is impossible to fix a misdeed.  The best we can possibly do is offer reparation.  And the cost of repair is vastly more than a man’s resources will ever afford.  You can’t undo anything, whether good or bad!

Man thinks that by paying for his horrible mistakes, he becomes a righteous man.  Perhaps he thinks if he regrets his past enough, there is some reparation made.  As if suffering  produces anything of value.  But no action on our part undoes the death we have born.

Christ Jesus is in the now.  No matter what clock you look at, there is the Lord holding out his hand to help stop the engine of regret.  Will you reach out and take his help?

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One thing I will say about regret, it is a useful tool.  It teaches humility.  And in an odd way, it gives validity to the warnings we offer to those who are as blind as we. 

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The man who climbs out of an open cesspool is happy to warn those who are walking toward disrepair.  Blinded by the darkness of their mind, they stagger toward loss.  And isn’t such a man rather frantic as he tries to help his brother?

Their response doesn’t matter.  It doesn’t matter if they hate him.  It doesn’t matter if they give him some superficial glory.  He knows from experience they are about to encounter regret.  He busies himself to remind his brother of the now.

Christ is in the now.   And he alone is The Living pure truth.  Listen to him.  His wisdom and strength are ever-present.

As the blind are walking toward the pit.  As they are falling into it.  As the shock of their disrepair dawns on their dull minds.  As they thrash about to release themselves from their present aberration.  As their hands lay hold of solid ground.  As they pull themselves out, covered with stench.  And as they sit perplexed on the edge of the pit, wondering what to do next, or how they could possibly have been so stupid.

Christ is in the now.

Christ is in the now.

He is not just a historical figure.  He is the now.

If you have freed yourself from a certain pit, I promise you, without Christ there’s another one waiting just in front of you.

Answer to yourself, what time is it?

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The usefulness of this post depends entirely on the reaction of those who read it.

NOW


Such an intriguing problem I see with people.  Being so greatly familiar with regret, they dwell on it everyday.  At the same time they set their eyes, with anxious hearts, toward the things they desire.  All the while they minimize the Now.

“I hate who I was and what became of my behavior.”  So they say in their hearts.  Full of remorse for their failings, they look with great hope to a better man or woman tomorrow.

How hard it is to put away the past regrets.  How easy it is to dream of a better future.  How utterly profitable to live the moment under the rule of the Living God’s Holy Son.

What is the Nature of Love?


The parents of a murderer are pressed hard against the wall.  They remember when he was a baby; purely innocent and full of potential.  But now, like he, they must face the fact of the things he has done.  If he is sentenced to life in prison, they have to wrestle with the understanding that he will never come home again.

With the purest possible love, and the greatest possible regret, they remember him when he lay so sweetly in their arms.  But mistakes, the influence of outside forces, and the choices of the man, have ripped potential from their dreams.  Who can voice a sadness like that?  Tell me that loss isn’t personal.

Tell me they don’t think of how much better it might have been if their sweet baby had been stillborn.  Better for the victim’s family.  Better for the society that was robbed of precious potential.  Better that a prison cell should house anyone else, and that for lesser crimes. . . PLEASE!  Better for the sounds that the walls of their house remember.  Better for their aching hearts that cannot find healing.

They cannot love their child to the potential they once desired, for once a deed like that is done it cannot be erased. 

But you will not rip away what love remains, from their hearts.  For they will seek with great diligence to find the shreds of their baby that remain in their son.

Love is not passive. 
Love is not blind. 
Love is married to wisdom.
Pure love understands what is pure. 
Love makes way for reality.
Love may experience restriction.
Love may be forsaken!
But it is impossible for love to die.

Ceaseless Strength of Condemnation


If the full pressure of all my sins were to bear down upon my worthless soul, I would never be able to rise again.  The strength of my bones would turn to vaporous dust.  The muscles that could move them, would become like gelatin mud.

My eyes would see nothing but blackness and horror.  And peace?  Peace would stand eternally far from me.  My mouth would lay open, gasping for life, but no life can enter in.  The weight bears down with endless pressure , the weight of all my sins.

If this is the case of one who is sure the Holy Lord will save him, what is the case of those who do not believe?

The hope of Christ lifts that incredible burden from me; as if a fallen slab of stone is stopped from crushing me flat.  It is held in place and poised above me by the magnificent strength of he who lives forever.  And the promise of he who cannot lie, will never let it fall.

Oh, come to Jesus!  Seek his beautiful face while the Day is upon you to choose!  For the day will soon come when all your sins will fall upon you with great intent.  You will be crushed!  There will be no one to help you!  And you will never rise again.

By His Grace