Love is Life


Two roads diverged, in a vast wilderness. From the womb they went separate directions. Unknown to her, the mother gave birth to a broken heart.  

One was full of love and nurturing, and never ceased to be straight. As soon as it could stagger, the other road turned a crooked difference away.  


Mama and her son.  


From time to time the roads would intersect. But the traveler wore a knapsack full of deviance. Worn and tattered as it was, he had no intention of laying it down.  


When he would come near, mama would speak with every resource she had. “I love you. Come home and love me.”


Sometimes he would stay. But he never could love his mother. Eventually he would go back on his crooked path. Eventually the flood of tears would come to mama.  


Again and again and again and again, sorrow broke her heart.  


The mother died alone. A few decades later, the son also died. Estranged in life, estranged in death, estranged from each other for eternity.  


The horror of this story dragged on for 40 years. And the horror of the story is forever written in stone.  


How many billions of times must this story be written!

……………………………


The point of the story may be hidden from most who read it. If you understood it before now you are one of the very few.  


Nothing can change the will of a man to love. No words, no deeds, no pleading, no promises, no rewards, nothing. If a man will not love willingly he will not love at all.  


And if anyone had told the man, “You should go home and love your mother”, he would’ve been filled with indigence. Isn’t pride lord over deviant hearts?


Isn’t this the plight of our God? So willing to embrace ALL humanity. So deeply craving to be loved, so that he can give Life. But in almost everyone, he is considered a last resort. He’s just a place of warmth, security, familiarity, food, clothing, and trinkets.  


He promises eternal peace to those who love him. But like the man who could not love his mother, greed for the things she would leave him when she died is not the same as love while she was living.  


There are no words I can say. There is no deed I can do. There is nothing outside of a person that can change the will of anyone to love God. We either love him or we don’t. And if we don’t we never will.  


No promise of reward, no threat of destruction, no encouragement from our brothers, nothing. Salvation to glory forever rest in the will of every person. God is willing, are we?


And by this I am struck with amazement, even in myself.  


“Many are called but few are chosen.”

Dedicated to What?


Question of the day:

When you left your pillow this morning was it to seek your own will and the will of others, or was it to seek the will of the One who made you.

(As our day begins it is also likely to end.  How many days then?  Is there a day coming when this will change?  When?)

Upheaval


“Stir the pot”, a mundane saying that is more volatile then a nuclear weapon.  The saying has a malicious use.  There are many people who stir the pot of humanity simply for the joy of watching the chaos it produces.  But it also has the sweetest of intent when used properly.

How can I stir the pot of godly things within my soul?  And how can I stir the pot for my brothers of flesh to do the same?  I don’t desire to raise anger to the surface.  I’m trying to lift desire for God from the bottom of the pot to the surface.

As my soul is stired, one of the things that comes floating to the surface is called eternity.  In that nugget of absolutes lays enough concern to consume my entire life.  And as I look at my own unwillingness to obey, I naturally have fear for the sake of my brothers.

For that reason alone, I cannot be silent.  The Living God has spoken, death is the inheritance of every man outside of his Holy Son’s rule.  It is imperative that I let this understanding consume me.  It is imperative that every man do the same.

The day of flesh is quickly coming to an end.  I will not allow it to be said that I did not warn my brothers. 

By His Grace

You are Invited!


It is possible (Very possible) that someone might think to themselves, “I will wait until I am able to consider myself holy before I testify about God’s things”.  When will that be?  What sign, within yourself, are you expecting to find?

Isn’t the Lord of Life worthy of proclamation?  Isn’t the consistent nature of creation testifying about God’s Holy Son, regardless how men use it?  Dirt is still dirt, whether it covers a corpse or builds a brothel.  The stars remain in their place, though no one has embraced one with a massive hug.  Sinful men testify about what is godly every moment of their pathetic life.  Yes, the Gospel is that replete among men.  What right, then, do Christians have to hide the holy word within themselves until they receive a “certain” sign from heaven?

The testimony goes out regardless how His people keep their mouths shut.  And didn’t He testify to this when it was written, “I tell you,” he replied, “if they keep quiet, the stones will cry out.”

Why would you let the Glory of God emanate from what is ungodly?  Have you no respect for the One who bought your worthless soul?  Why would you relinquish your place to proclaim, knowing that the proclamation will come from those who display no godly attributes?  Have you forgotten the phrase: “I tell you, not one of those who were invited will get a taste of my banquet.”

Grip your fear and unwillingness by the adams apple.  Choke it till it gasps to proclaim.  If fear has you, then go in fear.  If you are unwilling, then drag your worthless butt there.  Proclaim or lose the honor of it.

Listen, my brothers and sisters, we dance before the King of kings.  We live before the Living God.  So what if we’re not worthy to carry holy words!  Neither are they who would so accuse us if we spoke them!

The Gospel is an offence against the pride of man.  How humble would a man be who can’t obey the will of God, yet proclaims His Honor anyway?  Wait for that “something more”, and you will be waiting far past the closing of the banquet door.