tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12037457570845449572024-03-14T05:59:27.380-07:00Kingdom EyesJohn 3:3Kingdom Seekerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05002785094733844024noreply@blogger.comBlogger202125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1203745757084544957.post-10872744217994343852015-03-27T15:14:00.000-07:002015-03-27T15:14:03.612-07:00Calling Out to One AnotherIt seems apparent that I have a new job. As of late January, I am an official Registered Nurse for Palms West Hospital. I won't bore you with the gory details, but just like any other job, this puts me around a new set of people - coworkers, if you will. Because of this, I've been dwelling a lot on how to most effectively approach sharing the Gospel with this group of people that I now have time to build relationships with. I've become conscious of what I say and how I act around these people, and the thought of misrepresenting Jesus is somewhat terrifying.<br />
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The content of my speech is of special concern. I told one of my colleagues recently that I had just been to Nashville to see my girlfriend. She then proceeded to ask me in a muted (and very suggestive) voice, "Didja get you what you went there for?"<br />
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"Uh... what?"<br />
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"Y'know, didja getcha what you went there for?"<br />
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Now, I didn't want to acknowledge the fact that there was a good possibility that there was some sexual innuendo undertone-ing happening in her voice. I wanted to avoid the fact that my brand new coworker was asking me something very, very personal, so I resolved to acknowledge that I did get what I went there for - quality, <i>honorable</i> time with my girlfriend. And I told her this. I don't think that either of us were thinking along the same lines, but I know what I was thinking!<br />
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Either way, the content of my speech has become heightened in importance.<br />
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"I saw the Lord sitting upon a throne, high and lifted up; and the train of his robe filled the temple. Above him stood the seraphim. Each had six wings: with two he covered his face, and with two he covered his feet, and with two he flew. And one called <b>to another </b>and said: 'Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts; the whole earth is full of his glory!'"</blockquote>
Upon reading this passage in the past, it never occurred to me that these angels were talking <i>to each other.</i> Now, upon first thought, that might not mean much to you. But think about this: when you pray to God and praise Him for Who He is, it is one thing. But when you talk to someone else about how great God is, it is another matter entirely. When you tell someone else about the character of God, you're not motivated to make up fancy words and embellish your speech to make yourself look better before God. Instead, you're just one buddy telling another about what you've observed in the nature of God.<br />
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Therefore, it is a matter of great importance to me that the angels are telling each other the story of God's greatness. It makes me wonder about what my words sound like when I tell others about God. What is it that I'm calling out to my fellow human? Is it, "Holy, holy, holy," or are my words much more insignificant?<br />
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What are you calling out to others today?Kingdom Seekerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05002785094733844024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1203745757084544957.post-74170533125184699622015-03-14T00:58:00.001-07:002015-03-14T00:58:18.887-07:00Nothing to SayMy nose is dripping right now. And I don't mean like a stuffy nose that I occasionally have to blow - no, there is not a single moment in which my nose is not pouring forth its delights. I don't have a sore throat, body aches, or fever. I am not more sleepy than normal. There is not a single thing tipping anyone off to the fact that I have some kind of disease other than the nostrils on my face.<br />
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In the course of a day, I have rubbed my nose so much that the ends of my nose-holes have become raw to the touch. Therefore, the most I can do to keep myself from leaking is to gingerly touch my finger to my nose and then wipe it on a napkin.<br />
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"Why, Nathan?" you may ask. "Why are you discussing the grodiness of your face-holes at 4 o' clock in the morning. Why?"<br />
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Well at this point in most of my blog posts, I would delve into how some ridiculous aspect of my life relates to the message of the Gospel. Then, in typical fashion, I would abruptly insert a verse into the mix, hopefully catching you off guard to make you lean in a bit and take closer attention. You ask me why I talk about my dripping nose.<br />
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The answer is, I don't have anything else to write about.<br />
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I have no witty anecdote as to why drippy noses remind me of the truth of the Scriptures. I have no great revelation to give you on the comparison between drippy noses and the ugliness of the church or something like that. Sometimes, there is nothing to say. I do believe everyday life should remind you of the Gospel, but today, I am saddened to say it does not.<br />
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I guess there are moments for silence. Moments for recognition of my own emptiness. Times to see that maybe I should just stop talking if there's nothing good to say.Kingdom Seekerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05002785094733844024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1203745757084544957.post-54499966198902555652015-03-05T00:09:00.000-08:002015-03-05T00:09:18.753-08:00The Hero MomentKeanu Reeves isn't in a whole lot of movies nowadays, and I appreciate him a lot more than your common man. Gimme the wooden acting and scarcity of any real dialogue - I think it's cool. This might also partially have to do with the fact that my brother looks a lot like the guy, but, whatever the reason, I got really excited when John Wick came out.<br />
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It's your typical "you-killed-my-dog-so-I'll-destroy-your-entire-mafia-empire" type movie. Literally, they kill his dog. And then he kills all of them. Oh, sorry spoiler alert. I probably should have told you that earlier, but let's be honest, you knew that was the case from the trailer. In any case, John Wick made it into one of my top man-movies. Y'know, the kind you watch with your dad when mom's not around with you (even though my dad actually hates this shoot-em-up kinda stuff).<br />
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Anyway, there's this one scene in the movie where the bad guy catches him. There's no hope for escape and John will be killed. In fact, they start suffocating him with a plastic bag. Then, at just the opportune moment, we see a man outside the building fire a sniper rifle and one of the baddies who's killing Keanu gets killed himself, giving him just enough leverage to be able to kill the one other guy who's choking him out.<br />
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Yay!<br />
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This happens a lot in these types of movies. It's formulaic in a way. Good guy attacks bad guy. Bad guy catches good guy. Bad guy tries to kill good guy. Then, good guy is saved by something totally out of his power. I call it "The Hero Moment." Essentially, salvation occurs totally out of the hands of the protagonist, who is helpless to save himself.<br />
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"And those who passed by derided him, wagging their heads and saying, 'Aha! You who would destroy the temple and rebuild it in three days, save yourself, and come down from the cross!'" (Mark 15)</blockquote>
Man, that would have made a really cool movie - the guiltless Hero releases His supernatural strength and destroys His enemies! Talk about a man-movie. But here's what's maddening about this whole situation: Jesus, unlike any other protagonist in history, was not saved by any Hero Moment. In fact, He was the only one Who never needed a Hero Moment because He's God and He could just take Himself off the cross at any second!<br />
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No, instead He saw that the one who needed a Hero Moment was you. Was me. Was humanity. However, in this situation, we're not the good guy. We're the bad guy. At this moment in history, Jesus decides to reverse roles and forfeit his Hero Moment to give it to us, because He knew that there was no way that we were going to get out of the sin and eternal destruction that we are doomed to.<br />
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And so, yeah, maybe it would have made a cool movie for Jesus to show His strength there up on that cross by taking Himself down and destroying His enemies. But I think He knew that even better than a good movie is a Victorious Eternity.Kingdom Seekerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05002785094733844024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1203745757084544957.post-35652436531463547332015-02-19T23:41:00.000-08:002015-02-19T23:41:13.369-08:00The Proverbial Bean SurpriseI recently had a few days off of work, and I had planned on using them to surprise my girlfriend by showing up at her doorstep unannounced. Believe me when I say that I did pretty much everything that was in my power to keep this thing a secret. I really, really, <i>really </i>wanted to surprise her. And if you know much about me, I often go to great lengths to pull stuff like this off.<div>
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So I told only told the people who needed to know. I live in West Palm Beach, a whopping 848 miles from Nashville, and I didn't even tell my friends at home that I was leaving. I only talked to her parents about it, to make sure that it was gonna be all right for me to stay at their place while I visited. And since she knew my schedule, I came up with events that I "had to" be at home for during my few days off of work. She was genuinely not expecting it, which is great because she's pretty intuitive about that kind of stuff.</div>
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To make a short story shorter (and to not throw anyone under the bus), the proverbial beans were spilled the night before I showed up. Don't get me wrong, my girlfriend loved that I came and was super stoked about it, but I have yet to see her truly-surprised-face.</div>
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So a lot of you may remember Harold Camping from a few years ago. He was a man who claimed to know when Jesus was coming back. According to Harry, it was going to be on May 21, 2011. A lot of us have (hopefully) realized that he was wrong, and there was a lot of bad PR that came out of the error of that prophecy. Many Christians, in light of Camping's doomsday message, tried to remind the world that, </div>
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"concerning that day and hour no one knows, not even the angels of heaven, nor the Son, but the Father only." (Matthew 24)</blockquote>
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A lot of the talk during that period had to do with apocalyptic destruction and end-times tribulation. It was about the great pain that was going to be unleashed on the world in God's fiery judgment. And look, I believe all that stuff. I've been reading through Revelations - that stuff about destruction and doom is all true, and a lot of points could be made in regards to the urgency we should have as Christians in telling the Good News to the world. But that's not why I'm writing this.</div>
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I'm writing this to talk about the character of God, and one of the greatest attributes about Him is this: God is enamored with mystery. The fact that He gets to surprise us with the return of His Son at a moment when nobody thought it would happen probably makes God very, very happy. And it should do the same to us.</div>
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Just imagine, you're drinking your coffee, getting ready for the work day when BAM, you're standing before the Jesus you've struggled your whole life to get near to. Or you might be sleeping, when all of a sudden, you are immediately surrounded with the perfect rest of the presence of God. Or you might be in the middle of a battle against giving in to a great temptation, when Jesus shows up and you suddenly completely understand how he fulfills everything you were made for.</div>
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Friends, we have a great surprise coming for us. And this time, no one will be able to spill the proverbial beans.</div>
Kingdom Seekerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05002785094733844024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1203745757084544957.post-5906885111933161712015-02-02T16:49:00.001-08:002015-02-02T16:49:02.085-08:00Why Those Letters Don't Mean That MuchAnd so, play the trumpets! Yours truly has entered the workforce. Yes, I am now on "the grind." I've turned in my tasseled hat for a blue collar. Just call me a regular working man. The weirdest part of this whole thing is that I've spent much of my life working so that I could one day make money, and now that there's a regular paycheck coming in, I'm all like, "OOH, MONEY!?"<div>
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The even funnier part is that, just as I've made my dramatic exit from college, my brother has recently re-entered. He's going back to get his Master's Degree as a Nurse Practitioner. </div>
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*oooOOOoooh*</div>
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Titles have always fascinated me. Now, I get to put the initials RN at the end of my name (a liberty I took full advantage of when buying plane tickets recently. Well, how else will they know if I don't tell them!?). Soon enough, my brother will get to put ARNP at the end of his. (Adult Registered Nurse Practitioner) One day, I hope to be able to as well. Today, I sat in a work meeting and made sure to dress my best because I knew the CNO (Chief Nursing Officer) would be there (I wore a blazer and slacks!). </div>
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So what's the deal? Why all the hubbub when it comes to letters of the alphabet and titles? Well, in my case, I really respect the work that it takes for people to earn those titles. In some cases, it takes a lifetime to get a couple of initials at the end of your name, and I'm all about people working hard to get to that place. </div>
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"Then Amos answered and said to Amaziah, “I was no prophet, nor a prophet’s son, but I was a herdsman and a dresser of sycamore figs. But the Lord took me from following the flock, and the Lord said to me, ‘Go, prophesy to my people Israel.’" (Amos 7)</blockquote>
I've been going through the Minor Prophets of the Old Testament lately and in my journey, I've bumped into Amos. Amos was a shepherd and a farmer who told the people of Israel to turn from their wicked ways of oppressing the poor and practicing injustice and to turn to the God who could restore them to righteousness.<br />
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Maybe you glazed over that first part because it didn't sound that important: Amos was a shepherd. A farmer. No alphabet soup after his name. No fancy title. But the words he spoke were immortalized for, well, eternity. What mattered here was not his background, his past successes, or his climbing up the ladder of Ancient Middle-East power. He had no status on which to stand so that he could tell everyone to listen to him, but he did it anyway, because God gave him a whole different kind of platform.<br />
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Look, titles are great. There's usually a lot of earned respect for a man with a title, and rightfully so. But friend, the Kingdom of God has very little to do with your title and a lot more to do with your testimony. God doesn't want people with status, He wants people with a story. Which is everyone. So what does this mean? Two things:<br />
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Friend, wherever God is giving you the medium in which to tell the world how your story has collided with Almighty God's, do it. Even if it's out of your pay grade. And if you ever avoid the opportunity to learn from someone who doesn't have any letters after their name, shame on you. You might be missing a little shepherd's big words.<br />
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Don't forget, it was a Nobody from a nowhere town that caused the world to follow.Kingdom Seekerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05002785094733844024noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1203745757084544957.post-69477580643352870592015-01-23T15:02:00.001-08:002015-01-23T15:02:52.659-08:00An Angry Walmart Employee and The Difficult TransactionY'know life is good when your girlfriend gets you a GoPro for Christmas. In light of this magnanimous (I took the SAT's five years ago!) gift-giving, my mom got me some GoPro accessories to complement her gift. Well, it turns out that I needed some other accessories for it, so I decided to return them (a 64GB microSD card and a GoPro mount package) so that I could get some other stuff for my new camera.<div>
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The problem is, I could not obtain a receipt to give these back, but I was under the impression that they would be taken back regardless. I go to the customer service desk, and when I ask the nice *cough* lady at the desk if I could return my items without a receipt, she curtly tells me I cannot. I walk away, go online to Walmart's Corporate website to see what the policy is and find that I can, in fact, return products without a receipt. I walk back to the counter, and say, "Can I return these for store credit possibly?"</div>
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To which she responds, "Sir, you can't do anything without a receipt."</div>
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At this moment, I ask her, "Ma'am, do you not follow Walmart's Corporate policy on No-Receipt-Returns?"</div>
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As her frustration builds, she replies, "Sir, every Walmart has their own policies with this stuff. We don't take anything without a receipt. I'll get somebody for you."</div>
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Nathan's mind: *Every story has their own policy differing from national Walmart standards? Baloney.* Nathan's words: "Thank you so much ma'am."</div>
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I then waited for a few minutes until her supervisor came. "Hello," I said, "do you follow the No-Receipt-Returns Policy?" </div>
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She quickly pokes at my stuff and says, "Yes."</div>
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I am relieved. I look back at the cashier and after a few minutes she responds, "Can I help you with something else?" I guess there was some kind of mis-communication and neither of them were truly listening to me. I get her to call the supervisor back, and wait another few minutes for her return. Upon her arrival I ask, in plain English, "Can I return these products?"</div>
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"No sir," she says, "you can't return these without a receipt."</div>
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Enjoying my own propensity to sound like a broken record, I once again ask, "Do you not follow Walmart's Corporate policy on No-Receipt-Returns?"</div>
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She then adds, "This is an electronic and I can't return electronics without a receipt."</div>
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Oh joy. I was hoping she would say that. I then proceeded to be an educated consumer and whip out my phone to read off to her the specific list of electronics that do not fall under the policy in question - a list of about twenty items which I read in rapid succession to show that microSD cards did not fall under the policy.</div>
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"SIR, I'm not doing ANYTHING for you without a receipt. NOTHING."</div>
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At this point, things are somewhat comical. I guess it's hard to be confronted with information that you're supposed to already know. Anywho, this whole time, I have set my mind on killing them with kindness, so, at this point, I'm trying to hold back some choice words in the noodle. She proceeded to call the next person in the chain of command. This is now the third tier of administration in my local Walmart. I'm making friends!</div>
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After waiting for about twelve minutes (the matter had become quite important to me at this point), no one showed up. The supervisor eventually just got really frustrated (as if she wasn't already) and told the cashier, "Just RING'IMUP."</div>
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Thank you, Walmart supervisor. They gave me my store credit and I responded, "Thank you for your understanding."</div>
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"In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of his grace, which he lavished upon us..." (Ephesians 1)</blockquote>
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Do you know what redemption is? It comes from two words in Latin: <i>re(d), </i>which means‘back,’and <i>emere, </i>which means ‘buy.’In other words, to redeem something is to buy it back - exactly what I was trying to get the Walmart employees to do with items that we're in perfect condition. It was a transaction that would have cost them nothing but their own pride.</div>
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I think you know where I'm going with this.</div>
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Not only did Satan not want to return us, Jesus, the highest in chain-of-command sought us out in order to buy us back. Not only were we defective products, but Jesus had to sacrifice everything He knew to be precious in order to make the transaction. But, friends, we <i>have </i>been brought back. </div>
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What does that mean for your life today?</div>
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Kingdom Seekerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05002785094733844024noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1203745757084544957.post-15978501722953669772015-01-12T01:40:00.003-08:002015-01-12T01:41:14.196-08:00Does That Compliment Sandwich Come on Pumpernickel?So I have a confession. If you've been any type of long-time reader of this blog, you'll know that I like to write more about conviction than about edification. If I could choose between rebuke and encouragement... well, let's just say that my favorite part of action movies is when the good guy is about to kill the bad guy and he gives this great speech making the bad guy feel like crumbag. That speech of justice will make me cry way faster than any kissing-in-the-rain, Nicholas-Sparks deal.<br />
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However, maybe I'm realizing that it's also necessary to lift people up by letting them know what they're doing well. You ever heard of a compliment sandwich? Essentially, when you tell someone something that's difficult to hear, you're supposed to surround the difficult part with compliments, like so: "Hey man, I just wanted to tell you that you have a truly unique sense of style, but there is never a time when it's ok to wear those shorts. But I guess that's what it's like to be trailblazer - you gotta try new things!"<br />
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See? Compliment sandwich. The rebuke is the meat and the compliments are the bread!<br />
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Well, I think it's been a while since I've given any compliments, which must mean I'm missing a ton of bread. So, without further ado, let's dive into some compliments, or rather, some cool things I'm beginning to see. Here's thy loaf, dear reader:<br />
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<b>Encouraging Trends in the Church</b><br />
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#1: People are getting serious about Gospel-centered community.<br />
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I think that a lot of my generation got sick of the seeker-friendly, big-show production that dominated a lot of churches we saw growing up. Mega-churches sprang up all over the place, and any initial thoughts about the coolness of the concept was overshadowed by seeing tons of people get lost in the flood of superficial relationships that being a part of a crowd generated. So, as a response to this, I've seen much of our generation get serious about not just growing wide, but deep. We've become intentional about knitting ourselves close together as the body of Christ, and for that, I'm proud.<br />
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#2: Christians are rediscovering age-old wisdom.<br />
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I'll be the first to say that I think every era is marked by its own unique brand of characteristic sin. However, every era also has its own particular, special things to share. A lot of the people growing up in my generation are getting back to literature by some great men like Martin Luther, St. Augustine, A.W. Tozer, etc. Once again, this may be a response to the self-esteem, self-help, Joel-Osteen, substanceless putrefaction that we grew up with, but either way, I'm really stoked that people are starting to learn from the ancient words of some men greatly used by God.<br />
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#3: We're learning to drop the theatrics.<br />
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I think the church is beginning to learn the greatness of transparent, drop-the-nonsense honesty. We're learning that it's ok to be straight up with God by telling Him that you're frustrated with Him (as long as you seek an answer to your frustration). We're figuring out that it's pointless to put up a white-picket, All-American-Dream, 2 1/2 children facade of idealism when our souls are burning alive. I think we're starting to show that, as Matt Chandler said, "If you're dying on the inside, die on the outside." The world that looks in at us wants to know that we'll be as honest about the truth of unvarnished, painful reality as they are, and I think we're catching on to that.<br />
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I could go on and list more things that I'm stoked to see in the church nowadays, but I think that's enough loaf for one day. That being said, be patient with me - I'm still figuring out how to dish out the dough.Kingdom Seekerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05002785094733844024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1203745757084544957.post-41278207373770597142015-01-07T14:56:00.004-08:002015-01-07T14:56:40.345-08:00I Wish I Could Tell You. I Wish I Knew.I wish I could tell you.<br />
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I'm a big fan of using the right words, and I find immense joy when something is described accurately. I even feel that I'm growing in the ability to use the right words to depict ideas and phenomena. However, sometimes language fails you. Whether it be the hodge-podge that is the English tongue or the philosophically-minded Greek language, the exact words you need to describe something just don't exist. And so I wish I could tell you about God, friend, but sometimes the realization of something is more adequate than the words used to depict that realization.<br />
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I wish I could tell you how precious He is - of more value than the wealth King's Solomon's mines and more valuable still than all that this kind of wealth could buy you. I wish I could tell you what it's like to want Him so bad that you'd sacrifice sleeping through the dark, early-morning hours so that you could get up, drink some coffee, and get after Jesus in the still of those early hours. I wish I could tell you of the wonders of His character that makes you continue to chase after Him when everything around you, even your own mind, is telling you that you're wrong for doing it. I wish I could tell you what it's like to have a mind so transformed by the power of Christ that you begin to see His glory in every blade of grass, for you know that every blade of grass contains billions of atoms that all orchestrate themselves perfectly to his sovereign command.<br />
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But friend, I also wish I knew.<br />
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For as much as I've been drawn near to this Jesus, I realize that words like "fraction" or "decimal" don't even begin to describe how little I've discovered about Him. I wish I knew Him well enough to desire His presence over trivialities like prosperity or being comfortable. I wish I knew His character in such a way that it pushed me to stop thinking that things as earthly as sex could satisfy what only the Divine could. I wish I knew Jesus well enough to make me talk about Him as if He was the only thing really worth talking about. I wish I knew Him more than I know my own family, so that even things like blood relation take a back seat to blood shed on a tree.<br />
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In the words of Propaganda, "How come you're not smart enough to know that you don't know what you don't know?" Because, friend, as much as I'm figuring out what I know, I'm also figuring out what I don't.<br />
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And so, I wish I could tell you. I wish I knew.Kingdom Seekerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05002785094733844024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1203745757084544957.post-8788345735372765582014-12-30T08:58:00.001-08:002014-12-30T08:58:25.337-08:00Breakfast with JesusSomehow, every time the holiday season of the year rolls around, things end up getting crazy (that's unheard of, right?). Since the girlfriend is on break, she hops into town. Since my extended family sees the holidays as one of the only good excuses for getting together, they also drive in. Then there's the parties, the fact that my birthday is four days after Christmas, the gift-giving, and on and on.<div>
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One of the by-products of what goes on during this month is that I lose touch. A midst the hustle and bustle and stretched time demands, I somehow forget to do the things which are most integral to my life, like spending intimate time with my immediate family or investing into friendships in more than just the superficial conversations that take place at White Elephant gift exchanges.</div>
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The biggest deficit I experience, however, is the time missed spending with Jesus the Christ. One might think that this season would be the one where people dive into this, the most important of relationships, but for me, that usually ends up not being the case. </div>
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When they got out on land, they saw a charcoal fire in place, with fish laid out on it, and bread. Jesus said to them, “Bring some of the fish that you have just caught.” So Simon Peter went aboard and hauled the net ashore, full of large fish, 153 of them. And although there were so many, the net was not torn. Jesus said to them, “Come and have breakfast.”</blockquote>
Let's set this scene a little bit: the disciples have not been spending the time with Jesus that they've gotten used to in the past three years. Since His Resurrection, He's only showed up twice, and the disciples are probably feeling some kind of frustration with this disconnectedness, especially since the Holy Spirit had not showed up yet.<br />
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In the past, I've typically told people that I'm not a morning person. I don't know that this is entirely the truth. Even if I get up at an insanely early hour, I can function pretty normally if I've had enough sleep and I've dosed myself with some coffee. And some of the most life-changing moments in my walk with Christ have been in these early morning hours, and one thing I've realized is that I miss having breakfast with Jesus. Sometimes I feel some kind of frustration with this disconnectedness.<br />
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Friends, perhaps you've been feeling some kind of frustration with disconnectedness from this Jesus lately. Maybe it's time to have some breakfast with Jesus. Maybe it's time you let your knees reconnect with your bedroom floor.<br />
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After all, 'tis the season to be joyful.Kingdom Seekerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05002785094733844024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1203745757084544957.post-60156323809625519372014-12-18T09:44:00.003-08:002014-12-18T09:44:50.576-08:00The Punchline, The Reveal, and The DisappointmentI consider myself an amateur magician. Then again, I consider everyone except for the David's (Blaine and Copperfield) to be amateur magicians, mainly for the reason that there are so few of us (hah - "us"). But I heard somewhere once that magic is very similar to comedy in some respects.<br />
<br />
That might sound odd to you, but let's analyze this: there are many jokes that take the listener down a path where they think the outcome is something they can generally expect. (i.e. "Why was six afraid of seven?") Then, the listener is surprised with something they couldn't see coming (i.e. "Because seven was a well known six offender.") We might call this "the punchline."<br />
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Magic often operates in a similar way. The observer is taken down a path where they think the outcome is something they can generally expect. (i.e. The observer chooses a card and the card is lost in the rest of the deck.) Then, the observer is surprised with something they couldn't see coming (i.e. Their signed card appears underneath the sole on the inside of their shoe.) We might call this "the reveal."<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"For he grew up before him like a young plant, and like a root out of dry ground; he had no form or majesty that we should look at him, and no beauty that we should desire him. He was despised and rejected by men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief; and as one from whom men hide their faces he was despised, and we esteemed him not." (Isaiah 53)</blockquote>
I'm a big fan of counter-intuitive thinking. I think God is, too. He took the Jews down a path where they thought the outcome was something they could generally expect. (i.e. The Jews were being dominated by an oppressive regime and had hope for a conqueror-Messiah to come and free them.) Then, the Jews were surprised with something they couldn't see coming (i.e. The Jews were given a small Baby born to a nobody-family from a nowhere-town Who would be more concerned with the freedom of their hearts than the freedom of their circumstances.)<br />
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Make no mistake, the Jews were right in expecting a great Lion-Warrior-King, but they just didn't expect it at the right time. Jesus' First Coming was as the Suffering-Servant, and the logic-defying nature of His arrival upset a lot of people. We might call this "the disappointment." But hear me friends, this was news was not disappointing, but rather the greatest news to ever reach Earth's shores.<br />
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You just have to have the eyes to see it.Kingdom Seekerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05002785094733844024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1203745757084544957.post-75569464185699085722014-12-03T10:10:00.003-08:002014-12-03T10:11:51.085-08:00Peaches, Homelessness, and a Place of RestSo I make it a point to be friends with interesting people. One such person's name is Peaches - yes, Peaches. That is not his birth name, but I can't see myself calling him by his real name or anything else. I volunteer for an organization called Youth for Christ, and so does Peaches.<br />
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One night, I was having a meeting with my supervisor and she made a ridiculously appropriate comment about my buddy: Peaches creates home for people wherever they may be. Perhaps you don't quite fully understand what that means, so I'll explain myself.<br />
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Let's say that you were at a football game. Lots of things are happening around you. There's tons of noise. There's crowds up the wazoo. If Peaches steps into that atmosphere, his personality creates a very real sense of calm, as if you were resting at home in quiet. He doesn't lend himself to the craziness of the surrounding environment, but rather makes his home with you in that moment. It is a great feeling of peace.<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"Jesus answered him, “If anyone loves me, he will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our home with him." (John 14)</blockquote>
What is home? Yes, it may be where your heart is, but why is your heart there in the first place? Is it not because that is the place where you feel most at rest? Is it not the place where you find the worries and concerns of your everyday life fading into the peace and calm of home? I contend that it should be, and I also contend that this is what Jesus does for someone who has been redeemed by the peace that He offers.<br />
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It is no small matter that the God of the universe saw it fitting to make Himself at home with the dirty, broken, and hopeless. It is a matter of great wonder to think that Christ would take up residence and create home for those who have long felt homeless and abandoned. For those who have felt restless and hopeless. For those who know not what it means to have peace. But the Almighty God saw it fitting that He should make His home with us, giving us all of the rest and peace that it entails.<br />
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Friend, if you've too long been homeless and restless, would you not allow Christ to make His home in you today?<br />
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<br />Kingdom Seekerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05002785094733844024noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1203745757084544957.post-40728938583405503092014-11-24T16:33:00.000-08:002014-11-24T16:33:39.208-08:00The Forgotten Fruit and the Bruises It BearsFigs don't get the publicity they used to. And even though many great lovers of fruit have heard of this treat, they have yet to actually try it. This is travesty. If you've ever tried the fig, you know what I'm talking about. It is truly one of the more unique flavors in the fruit kingdom, with a soft texture which is mixed with the crunchiness of its seed core, and it has a sweetness which is quite separate from any other kind of sweetness.<br />
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Those from the Middle East do not have the same problem of not knowing this fruit - it's all over the place! The fig is to Middle Easterners what the apple is to Americans, I suppose. If you've read any of the Bible, (hint: it was written in the Middle East) you know that the fig is quite the stud among his fruit buddies.<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"Then Amos answered and said to Amaziah, “I was no prophet, nor a prophet's son, but I was a herdsman and a dresser of sycamore figs." (Amos 7)</blockquote>
If you've read the Old Testament, you know that Amos is one of the Minor Prophets and has his own book (whoa). However, the man did not come from a line of prophets and was not designated by Israelite Prophet Association as a licensed minister. He was simply called by God to do what he did, but that's a lesson for another day. In his previous life, Amos was a "dresser of sycamore figs."<br />
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Now, the Prince of Preachers, Charles Spurgeon talked about Amos in a much cooler way than I could ever expect to. He says,<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"...a more correct translation might be a bruiser, a trainer or preparer of sycamore fruit, the sycamore fruit being like a fig, though not quite so excellent in flavour. It was believed in the East that it would never ripen except it was a little bruised, so that some person was employed with an iron comb to scratch and wound the skin. Unwounded the fruit, even when ripe, was too bitter to be eaten, but after it had been wounded, it ripened rapidly, and became sweet, and was not an objectionable article of diet."</blockquote>
It seems as if one of Amos' primary positions in life was to literally bruise fruit. Imagine talking about that job at your high school reunion. However, unless the fruit was bruised, it was not made sweet enough to be enjoyed. Unless it was wounded, it wasn't good for anything but the trash heap.<br />
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Dear friend, I don't know what it is that you're going through right now, but hear me out for a second: maybe God's allowing some things into your life so that you could be made useful for a greater purpose. Consider for a moment that the pain might be God's way of giving you nothing to grab onto but Himself. Maybe the hurt, and doubt, and brokenness is His way of preparing you to bless someone who will experience the same trial. I know for a fact that this happened to me.<br />
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Maybe God's bruising you so that you might become sweet.Kingdom Seekerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05002785094733844024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1203745757084544957.post-28179318940015835442014-11-09T20:26:00.001-08:002014-11-09T20:28:19.769-08:00Home is for KeepsI was born and have lived my entire 21-year-old life within one roughly-seven-mile radius. And it's not even like I've lived in one house my whole life - I've moved about 6 times. So I guess you could say I moved around a lot as a kid, but let's be real here: I've made my home within this small town that I grew up in.<br />
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I moved into the house I live in now about 8 years ago. I was 13. Everything I knew about living in houses was that we might not stick in one for all that long. There were no guarantees that I'd even get my driver's license while living in my house. This wasn't a huge emotional thing; it's not like I had to drastically change my life every time I moved. However, this whole moving-on mentality was something I was pretty used to.<br />
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That being said, I found myself recently thinking, "Wow. I really like living here."<br />
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I know they say that people get tired of seeing or doing the same thing all the time, but somehow, regardless of how little it's changed, this home had really grown on me over the years. Perhaps it was <i>because </i>I had the chance to let the years sink into my perception of this house that I began to truly realize how at home I felt. My room is now my lair, my cave, my sweet abode of manliness. Seriously, my desk is a carpenter's workbench (thanks dad!). Although, the curtains are a bit feminine. I've gotta do something about that...<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Jesus answered him, “If anyone loves me, he will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our home with him. (John 14)</blockquote>
Now watch the miracle that's happening in this text, and pay attention because it's easy to miss. Jesus, the Christ, the Lord of galaxies, earthly kingdoms, mountains, and even the screen you're reading this off of has an offer: if you would love and follow Him, he will make his home <i>with you. </i><br />
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Whaaaaaaa?<br />
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First, let's get over the fact that this is one of the most mind-blowing, eyeball-exploding, lungs-bursting thoughts in existence and consider what it means to make a home with someone. It means that you're there for good. Permanent. It means to change the place where your mail gets delivered and set up shop for keeps.<br />
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And unlike the fickleness of a housing market which has encouraged a family to move 6 times within the same seven-mile radius, Jesus's new address in you is permanent because He will be with you wherever you go. And unlike the fickleness of a family member who can get so sick of your garbage that they decide to move out when things get rough, Jesus sticks around because, listen, <i>His </i>home is where <i>your </i>heart is.<br />
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And for a God that doesn't change, home is for keeps.Kingdom Seekerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05002785094733844024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1203745757084544957.post-49272065644591281112014-10-30T19:31:00.005-07:002014-10-30T19:31:41.334-07:00A Plane Carcass, An Empty Field, and A Day Gone By.On the way to my old school, I pass by McDonald's, Dick's Sporting Goods, and my friendly neighborhood airport. It's kind of strange to see the landing strip right from the main road, but there it is. Sometimes, when I need to go to the airport to pick up a friend or get dropped off for my own adventure, I pass by what looks like an unused portion of the airport property, which is pretty much just an empty field. However, sitting right there next to the edge of the road that borders the field is a giant metallic tube, which I'm pretty sure is the remains of an old plane, chopped in half to show it's gutted insides.<div>
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<div>
After all these years, I'm still unsure as to why it's there. It doesn't look like it serves any purpose. Because of its obscurely random placement in a field of dead grass, I doubt it's an attempt at modern art. Whatever it may be there for, I'm positive that it's served its time as a commercial airliner in its glory days. What kind of people have been aboard this bird? Where were they going? What great adventures did this aero-bus facilitate? Who was connected to their loved one because this plane got them there? Did it soar during the Golden Age of Flight?</div>
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<br /></div>
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I don't know. All I know is that this plane's flying days are over.</div>
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<div>
I recently made my way to my old school, from which I've recently graduated. Just a few short miles from this plane carcass lies the empty field that used to be home to another kind of life. In a former time, it was known as Chapel by the Lake - a place that I've written about many times before. The church that used to own the property sold it to some investors, and I imagine the spot will get used for another high-rise that'll block the view of the ocean waters, but whatever the case may be, this outdoor, open-air cathedral was once home to many of my great thoughts, stretches of worship, and moments of crying and desperation. They tore it down shortly after I graduated and now it's just an empty field surrounded by a parking lot. I can't imagine how many people had been blessed by sitting in those fluorescent-blue seats throughout the years, how many people found a best friend in Jesus there, or how many had been welcomed into the family of God through baptism there.</div>
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I don't know. All I know is that this chapel's church-ing days are over.</div>
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There was one time, shortly after I graduated, where I sat in those blue seats and thought about the journey I'd been through. College had been pretty much all I wanted it to be, and a lot I didn't expect it to be. Many friends had touched my life in a way that's unjust to put into words. I'd found gifts and talents that I didn't know I had. Nights full of fun and tear-inducing laughter with friends gave me something to miss. Spiritual encounters and a winding, broken, narrow road took me on a journey with God that I didn't think I'd experience if you'd asked high-school me.</div>
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It was during these years that my soul learned that a simple joy was not threatened by the changing of the seasons, and so I was ready now. The college years which I had pedestal-ized and longed for when I was a wee one were now over and it was time to step into life as a working man. It was time to leave those times behind and cherish the memories they left for me. I'm not sure what the future holds. I wonder what journey I'll be on a year from now.</div>
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I don't know. All I know is that this young man's college days are over.</div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven... (Ecclesiastes 3)</blockquote>
Kingdom Seekerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05002785094733844024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1203745757084544957.post-16608022203101776622014-10-19T15:43:00.004-07:002014-10-19T15:43:53.280-07:00The Speedo Priest's Freestyle PrayerThis past summer's trip to Israel left quite a few <a href="http://www.kingdom-eyes.com/2014/08/can-mcdonalds-be-foreign.html" target="_blank">impressions</a> on me. Something about piggybacking onto a Romanian Eastern Orthodox tour of the Holy Land as Evangelical Christians created this strange tension. And although it was something that I've never experienced, (and will probably never experience again) I'm definitely thankful for the opportunity to hang out with a group of people that had a very different perspective on faith than I did.<br />
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I should start by explaining that we had two tour guides. One of them was your typical week-long excursion-type guide that gave us historical background and other insights at each of the sites we visited. Since many of the tourists were Orthodox church members from roughly the same city, the other guide was actually the priest that presided over the congregation from that area. He was tasked with guiding everyone from a more spiritual perspective.<br />
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The first time we got on the tour bus, the priest began the trip with quite a lengthy prayer. I'll be the first to tell you that I don't agree with <i>a lot </i>in the Eastern Orthodox religion, but this was actually a really beautiful prayer that contained a lot of Biblical truth. My dad even mentioned to me how much he liked it, and the trip started off pretty hopeful.<br />
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However, what we discovered the next morning was that, when we got on the bus, the priest gave a pretty similar prayer. By the morning after that, we were sure that this guy was praying the same exact prayer that he had the two days prior. And so we ended up hearing this same, drawn-out prayer for a week straight.<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"And when you pray, do not heap up empty phrases as the Gentiles do, for they think that they will be heard for their many words. Do not be like them, for your Father knows what you need before you ask him." (Matthew 6)</blockquote>
On one of the last days of the trip, we were given basically half of a day to relax and unwind from the hard work that is touring the Holy Land. Considering the blistering heat, on the way back from our morning excursion, me and my brother talked about jumping in the luxurious hotel pool. So we got to the hotel, changed into our swimmies, and got to the side of the pool. And much to our ________, (I'm not really sure what word to put here) the priest arrived by the poolside.<br />
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Me and my brother, who had not seen this man outside of his priestly garments the entire trip, soon found ourselves with our feet in the pool talking to a priest wearing nothing but a pair of Speedo's. For some reason, not a single other person from our tour group decided to go swimming aside from me, my brother, and the priest.<br />
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In our lively conversation, we covered a lot of subjects ranging from religion, to government, and to culture. After getting over the strangeness of seeing a priest transition from such thick, black, body-engulfing clothing to a bright blue Speedo, I found that the conversation had some pretty interesting points.<br />
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Is it not sad that the priest could speak more freely to us than He could to the God he claimed was his Father? Is it not exponentially more sad to know that the Almighty All-Creating God of everything wanted to speak to this priest as a dad does to his son, and yet this man could not see it?<br />
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Brother or sister, God does not want your fancy words. If you want to make a beautiful prayer, go ahead. But God is more concerned with connecting with you than He is with receiving a superficial layer of words that have no relation to the status of your heart.<br />
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I will give the priest one concession: at the end of each of these lengthy prayers, the priest would suddenly relax and start praying improvisationally, so to speak. The last portion of his prayer was always freestyle.<br />
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Brothers and sisters, let you prayers be freestyle.Kingdom Seekerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05002785094733844024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1203745757084544957.post-10437142865765950812014-10-09T15:31:00.002-07:002014-10-09T15:33:13.626-07:00Dumpster Diving for EternityFor those of you who don't know me all that well, my father is a wood-worker.<br />
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"So he can FIX MY TABLE/CHAIR/RANDOM WOODEN OBJECT!?!?!"<br />
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No.<br />
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Or rather, he probably could fix it - it'll probably just cost a lot more than what you originally paid for the item. Y'know, overhead, operation costs, etc. Sorry!<br />
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Anyhow, in one of the previous shops that my dad was renting out, there was a dumpster. I mean, there's a dumpster where he is now, but the complex of buildings he's near at the current time doesn't have nearly the same variety of business as his old shop had. At my dad's old shop, he was near a health-minded cookie factory, baseball bat factory, assorted storage units, a dry-cleaning store, etc.<br />
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This may not sound too exciting to you, but what this meant is that there was always interesting things in the dumpster. As a child, I made a practice out of total-commitment dumpster diving, literally climbing into the rusty-green receptacle in order to rummage around in hopes of finding some item or artifact that could fascinate my ten-year-old self.<br />
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And boy, did I.<br />
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Old record players, TV's, baseball bats, massive cardboard boxes - you name it. Forget playing football, finding hidden dumpster-treasure was probably one of my favorite childhood pastimes!<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Stop regarding man in whose nostrils is breath, for of what account is he? (Isaiah 2)</blockquote>
The other day, I was driving out of my neighborhood when I saw some boxes and assorted junk thrown out to the curb. There was a sign attached to this pile of assorted potential treasures: "FREE STUFF." For a moment I considered stopping, but for some reason, I was suddenly filled with thinking, "What if someone sees me?" So, I rolled on by, with the fear of humiliation ringing in my memory.<br />
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Friends, having a mind to consider the well-being and comfort of others is a good thing. Being afraid of getting mentally condemned by someone you don't know for an action that is good is a terrible thing.<br />
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After all, it was a certain man named Jesus of Nazareth Who decided to make a total commitment to dumpster dive into the rusty-green trash-heap that is humanity. He lowered Himself - why are we so afraid to? Oh, that we may cast off the pride that slows us from pushing the Kingdom of Heaven forward with both feet.<br />
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Maybe it's time that we dive into the brokenness and trash that is our neighbor's soul, and in so doing, provide hope for One Who can clean up the mess. Maybe it's time we forfeit the weight of pride tied to our ankles so that we might run to the slums and projects that need our humility. Maybe it's time we stick our hand in the mud and pull someone out, regardless of how dirty we'll get.<br />
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Maybe it's time.Kingdom Seekerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05002785094733844024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1203745757084544957.post-24605919980993857252014-09-27T14:37:00.001-07:002014-09-27T14:38:01.495-07:00The Great MadnessI was trying to create an account that would allow me to use the electronic health record I needed for school. The online form was asking me to input a middle initial. Anyone who knows me even just a little better than the guy who rings up my groceries at the store knows that I do not have a middle initial. My name is Nathan Costiuc - I don't need a middle name to separate me from all of the other zero Nathan Costiuc's on the planet. So I left that portion blank, just as I always do in these types of situations (although if I had a middle name, I'd want it to be something with a 'Q'. How cool would <i>that </i>be?)<br />
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I got stuck. There was some sort of problem with the account. I called the company up and asked them what the beef was. The gentleman on the phone told me that I had to put in a middle initial. I was clear with the fact that I had none. He insisted. I lied on the form. Are you happy, Mr. Customer Service?<br />
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Think with me here: this little box that was asking for my middle initial was probably doing so to authenticate my individuality. Its purpose was to make sure that it was legitimately me filling out this form. The irony of this situation is that, in being forced to fill it out so I could use the software, it made me falsify information and put down something that was not accurate to the reality of who I was. The form that was asking for the real me forced me to be a fake me.<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"Although I trained and strengthened their arms, yet they devise evil against me." (Hosea 7)</blockquote>
Sometimes, irony oversteps its bounds and becomes something else. When the reality of the ridiculousness of a situation becomes overwhelming, irony leaps over itself and becomes madness. This is easily seen in a quote from Voltaire, who said, "It is forbidden to kill; therefore all murderers are punished unless they kill in large numbers and to the sound of trumpets." The reader who peruses this statement immediately becomes overwhelmed with frustration as he questions how such a thing could be true. Coupling the irony of this quote with the frustration over its truth, it gets pushed into the realm of madness.<br />
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In Hosea, God is addressing the people of Israel, who are repeatedly and consistently rejecting the covenant God made with them, choosing to worship gods made with their own hands instead of the Almighty Creator. This is where we find the quoted passage. This is where we find God saying, "You have used the very hands that I made and gave strength to build your idols."<br />
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Here we find The Great Madness: if God didn't give us the air we breathe and a mind to think, we wouldn't be able to sin against Him as we do. Rather, we use the life He keeps on giving us to show our ungratefulness for the life He keeps on giving us by sinning against Him. This is not only irony. This is Madness.<br />
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Brothers and sisters, this is God we're talking about. And we've sinned altogether too much against Him. I've sinned altogether too much against Him. We not only participate in this irony, but we rejoice to be a part of The Great Madness.<br />
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Brothers and sisters, this cannot be so.Kingdom Seekerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05002785094733844024noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1203745757084544957.post-26300321202172084142014-09-18T12:52:00.002-07:002014-09-18T12:52:50.288-07:00Falling Asleep in Church and Other SinsAs a child, I was fairly fidgety. If I was sitting somewhere I was supposed to be quiet, it's as if my body would say, "Quiet, eh? Put the hyperactivity in overdrive, captain!" Needless to say, there were many moments of discipline that had to take place when I let that energy get out of control.<br />
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The odd thing about my tendency to be energetic is that I also fall asleep very easily. One might think that people like me have trouble falling asleep. Incorrect. (Where'd you get your degree? Psh...) I can fall asleep almost anywhere. This was also true as a child, and I would often fall asleep during sermons.<br />
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Even now, though I'm shaking my legs furiously as I type away, my eyelids want to shut down and take a nap.<br />
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For whatever reason, nowadays, I don't have too much trouble staying awake during sermons, <i>unless </i>I've gotten very little sleep over the weekend. If that's the case, I usually sit there trying to force my eyelids open by sheer mental willpower. How often does that work? No comment. After trying to keep my eyes open fails, I sometimes do this head-bob thing where I drop in and out of consciousness. Y'know, your head falls as you fall asleep and then the feeling of your head falling alerts your brain and, in the sad irony of it all, your mind doesn't wake you up enough to keep you awake, but only enough to lift your head back up. Only to let it fall again.<br />
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The whole process is quite shameful, to say the least. The preacher is pouring out his heart about a deep spiritual matter and there you are, head-banging to the beat of your cat-nap dreams. Then, the inevitable happens:<br />
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Your friend nudges you and wakes you up.<br />
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That's the most embarrassing moment of this whole escapade! Because if your friend has noticed that you were rocking away to your own hardcore concert right there in the pew, that means everyone else saw it too! So your cheeks turn red and you get flustered with your buddy for pointing out your pagan ways. Sometimes you try to play it off like you weren't sleeping, but just agreeing ecstatically with the pastor. But let's be honest, who are you fooling?<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Brothers, if anyone is caught in any transgression, you who are spiritual should restore him in a spirit of gentleness. Keep watch on yourself, lest you too be tempted. Bear one another's burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ. (Galatians 6)</blockquote>
The Bible calls us to be accountable to one another. If someone calls us out on something, we shouldn't get upset with that person for pointing out what other people were already seeing. We should rejoice in the fact that we have someone to keep us to a high standard!<br />
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So if your buddy wakes you up during church, or calls you out on your pride, or shows you the ways in which you are not being gentle to others, don't shoot the messenger - He's literally doing what the Bible is telling him to by calling you out. Use the opportunity to get angry at your sin, and if you know you struggle with something, tell your Christian brother or sister what's going on before they have to approach you about it. In other words, hate your sin enough to seek accountability for it. So the next time you want to fall asleep in church, don't be upset when the guy you talked to about your tiredness before the service tries to pinch you.<br />
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It is a pinch of love.<br />
<br />Kingdom Seekerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05002785094733844024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1203745757084544957.post-84717769553265011952014-09-09T11:40:00.002-07:002014-09-09T11:40:30.883-07:00A New Grading ScaleI was homeschooled for most of my life, (People tell me that explains a lot, but I'm not sure why. Huh.) but I did have a brief stint as your run-of-the-mill, uniformed, mayonnaise-skinned private-school student from kindergarten to second grade. Yes, I came complete with a mushroom-headed bowl-haircut, a gap in my two front teeth, and khaki shorts. And I probably don't even need to mention the fact that my lunchbox always dominated the other kids' - that should be obvious.<br />
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During some of those formative years, I was evaluated according to a grading scale that was different from that of the "big kids." Instead of receiving an A, B, C, D, or F, I received some sort of grade that revolved around the word "satisfactory." Either my work was "unsatisfactory," "needs improvement," "satisfactory," "good," or "excellent." Something like that.<br />
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Now, according to this scale, one is obligated to recognize that "satisfactory" is pretty much a C. Sure, it technically meets the requirements of the assignment or test, but getting this grade doesn't fill you with the joy that an "excellent" would. This is because the standard for "satisfactory" was set pretty low.<br />
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If I were to tell you that God's love was just satisfactory, you would not rejoice.<br />
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Afterward the children of Israel shall return and seek the Lord their God, and David their king, and they shall come in fear to the Lord and to his goodness in the latter days. (Hosea 2)</blockquote>
If you haven't read Hosea, it is essentially God using an adulteress as a metaphor for the nation of Israel's unfaithfulness to Him. Hosea's wife, Gomer, whored herself away to the pleasures and enticements of other men. So, in order to display God's faithfulness, He tells Hosea to go and <i>pay </i>to get Gomer back.<br />
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Gomer's central problem was her idea that Hosea's love wasn't good enough - it may have been "satisfactory," but in no way did she see it as "excellent" as the pleasures she chased. In the same way, Israel saw God's love as only meeting the requirements but not as fulfillment for the soul.<br />
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And so do we.<br />
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But today, I make an effort to challenge the grading scale. I say that "satisfactory" and "excellent" are one and the same when it comes to the concept of our need and God's love. If the requirement for our hearts to be at rest is a never-ending, all-fulfilling, perfectly-complete kind of love, then anything that could satisfy those requirements would be automatically considered as "excellent." In this way, the "satisfactory" becomes the "excellent," over and above the devastating emptiness of the pleasures that this world offer.<br />
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This is why the people of Israel come back, as shown in Hosea 2. They are tired of the brokenness and deceit of worldly pleasure and come back "to His goodness in the latter days."<br />
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Dear child, will God's love be satisfactory for you today, or will you chase the abyss?Kingdom Seekerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05002785094733844024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1203745757084544957.post-16779665923369191232014-09-02T13:21:00.002-07:002014-09-02T13:21:44.502-07:00I Like the Way You Pray"I like the way you pray."<br />
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I was at a Bible study and I had just prayed (for food or in our small groups or something of that nature). That was when my buddy said that to me.<br />
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"I like the way you pray."<br />
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The main question that arises out of that kind of statement is, "How does a man pray well?" To be clear, I'm not really sure. I don't really know that there's a scoring system for that kind of thing. But I do have ideas as to some things you can recognize that will shape the way you approach prayer. By no means is this all-inclusive, but it might give you a fresh perspective on talking to God.<br />
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<b>You're talking to God.</b><br />
Think about that for a second. It is one thing to realize that God is as mind-blowingly awesome as He is as the Creator and Orchestrator of everything you can experience. This, in and of itself, is enough reason to bow down and approach Him with worship-minded prayer. It is another thing entirely to recognize the fact that we are sinners who fall completely short of God's standard of perfection - a status that ensures that we are hell-bound. This added realization makes prayer not just a humbling experience, but unequivocally audacious and improper! It's as if a convicted murderer were to eat dinner at the judge's house: totally unacceptable.<br />
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<b>Observe what's been done for you.</b><br />
The last point might not have made you feel any better about prayer, but that's because it has to be reconciled with the fact that Jesus died on the cross so that you could draw near. Because the blood of Jesus Christ covers His followers, they can now "with confidence draw near to the throne of grace." (Hebrews 4) Unbelievable. Not only do we get to draw near without getting killed, we get to do it with <i>confidence.</i><br />
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<b>See the implications.</b><br />
Not only have you been made right with God, but you have been adopted as His son or daughter (Ephesians 1). Children get to ask things of their parents that no one else gets to ask them, like asking for a glass of water in the middle of the night, or asking to be given a piggy-back ride. The point? Kids aren't scared to talk to their parents. No, it is the most comfortable thing in the world for them. I believe that spirit should apply to us as we pray - not to be driven by formalities, but to pray as a son to His Dad.<br />
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I'm still not sure exactly what my buddy meant when he said he liked the way I pray, but I have a feeling that it had something to do with skipping the fancy, King-James speak and talking to God in recognition of what I was doing: approaching the God of all that exists as a sinful, but sanctified son.Kingdom Seekerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05002785094733844024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1203745757084544957.post-17673313326307861622014-08-26T08:54:00.001-07:002014-08-26T08:54:29.457-07:00Can McDonald's be Foreign?I've seen a good bit of the world. This is not to boast, but, rather, I consider it a blessing to have had my mind opened to things quite extraordinary and spectacular. However, I'm left with a striking impression that the world is growing smaller. Even in foreign lands, culture has, for a number of years now, begun to meld together with other cultures - a process that has been sped up by the internet, I believe.<div>
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However, there are some cultures which remain truly separate and distinct. This summer, I got to go to Israel (this was right before things started to get really heated up in that area). In this culture, I was truly and undoubtedly a foreigner. I knew none of the language, customs, or setting of life which drove Israeli existence.</div>
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If you ever go to Israel, you'll most likely go as part of a tour group. This is pretty much the only option for gringos like us who are so out of place that even ordering from an Israeli McDonald's would be near-impossible. Well, as part of a tour group, you typically go and visit all of the sites where major Biblical events are said to have happened. In most of these places, the Orthodox or Catholic churches have built monolithic Cathedrals to mark the spot.</div>
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At a certain point in these tours, everything begins to look the same and your appreciation for the locales that you are being taken to subsides. You become saturated and find it difficult to muster any recognition of the monstrous cathedrals that you're surrounded by. At one such location, named Tabgha, it was told to us that this was the location where Jesus multiplied the fish and loaves of bread for the crowd of 5,000 people.</div>
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Well, that's cool, (and probably not a true statement) but I had seen so many sanctuaries by this point that the Koi pond in the front of the building was more fascinating to me than the elaborateness of man-made chapels. As I stared at the fish and our tour group leader droned on with information, I heard something which snatched my audible attention: singing.</div>
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And let me make this clear: I had already heard a lot of singing. At every place we stopped, the priest leading our group made sure to sing the Scriptures or some Orthodox hymn. We'd gotten a lot of this ritualistic, chanting-type music along the way. But what I heard in that moment was not some Orthodox tune - it was an evangelical hymn.</div>
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As fast as you could say, "Forget the Koi," I up and bolted into the church where I heard the singing and almost immediately joined in song with this group of evangelical believers. Here, in the middle of Israel, surrounded by the foreignness and unfamiliarity of an astoundingly different culture and longing for something that reminded me of home, I was washed with the warm native-ness of what I knew and loved.</div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"But our citizenship is in heaven, and from it we await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ..." (Philippians 3)</blockquote>
Sometimes, this world is unfamiliar. Not because we're not used to it, but because there is, in our hearts, a desire for more. We long for a satisfaction we cannot attain. No one put it more succintly than C.S. Lewis, who wrote, "If we find ourselves with a desire that nothing in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that we were made for another world."<br />
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Today, I long for home. To be done with this broken world. To be wrapped in the familiarity for which my soul was made. Brothers and sisters, we will one day be home.<br />
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But for now, make much of the journey.Kingdom Seekerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05002785094733844024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1203745757084544957.post-58089957106456319022014-08-18T12:17:00.001-07:002014-08-18T12:17:46.675-07:00Jesus Wants You to be a MurdererI'm not sure when society transitioned from seeing Christians as people of valor, strength, and justice to a view of them being goody-two-shoes whose faith made them weak and unable to fight. It's as if walking with Jesus means that you are now a soft-serve, timid, sheltered, meek-and-mild, quivering creature who is petrified at the very thought that people who aren't believers actually do bad things. Along with this view, there simultaneously exists the perspective that the strong of this world are those who do what they want, when they want to do it. They are those who can get any women they want, experience all the pleasures they can get their hands on, and get the most toys.<br />
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This is for my warriors.<br />
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This is not a message for non-believers. This is a message for you, my fellow brother or sister who feels antagonized by a world that views you as feeble and weak. For however much this world tells you that it is a thing of weakness to not grab a hold of all the pleasurable sins you can, your resistance is actually a monument to a great strength that sinners have no ability to mentally process. To be surrounded by a sea of beckoning temptation and walk on the waters above it takes unbelievable focus and fight, neither of which are spawned by your own strength or willpower.<br />
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In him also you were circumcised with a circumcision made without hands, by putting off the body of the flesh, by the circumcision of Christ, having been buried with him in baptism, in which you were also raised with him through faith in the powerful working of God, who raised him from the dead. (Colossians 2)</blockquote>
I won't go into details, but if you know anything about circumcision, it is painful. It is the taking of a knife to your body. And I don't know how much you know about burial, but it typically means that someone must be dead for it to occur. These symbols are given for a very specific reason:<br />
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Jesus wants you to be a murderer.<br />
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Christ wants you to to put to death your sin nature - to decisively, intentionally, and un-regrettably drag your flesh out into the streets, put a gun to its head, and pull the trigger without a second thought. And that would be decidedly easier to do if sin didn't look so good. In fact, it's so difficult, you can't even do it! That is why Colossians 2 explicitly states that it is God Himself who accomplishes His task in you throughout your whole life.<br />
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Essentially, your warrior-king has given you the strength to do what needs to be done. So as you stand back and are mocked by the world as they drown in their sea of temptation, remember your warrior-king. Remember that the God of infinite power lives inside of you and is working a might in you that is greater than the world can even comprehend. And as you fight with your teeth gritted and your failures mocking you, know that "you are from God and have overcome them, for he who is in you is greater than he who is in the world." (1 John 4)<br />
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Dear warrior, Jesus wants you to be a murderer.Kingdom Seekerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05002785094733844024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1203745757084544957.post-28293462086003282642014-08-12T09:12:00.003-07:002014-08-12T09:54:28.315-07:00You Can't Climb the Clouds<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieWSyuyIsd1wSlrJhigHwcWJMAvpJTgNpoJ29fA9EOdpRK8yVr3CohzypGt8DF9aeVEdVBR-HMyv6pQUqabNnqcEJ0nvcdPt5Foa-AT5Jn1gSfmZ2ljuwC9YQnwY0KW31YONSYgQRNHxo/s1600/Clouds5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieWSyuyIsd1wSlrJhigHwcWJMAvpJTgNpoJ29fA9EOdpRK8yVr3CohzypGt8DF9aeVEdVBR-HMyv6pQUqabNnqcEJ0nvcdPt5Foa-AT5Jn1gSfmZ2ljuwC9YQnwY0KW31YONSYgQRNHxo/s1600/Clouds5.jpg" height="225" width="400" /></a></div>
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No matter how much they stand as a testament to divine architecture, these divine skycrapers will drop the foot of its first climber. No matter how much you stare from your airplane seat at 30,000 feet and begin to truly think that these colossal marshmallows actually maintain some sort of structural integrity suitable for the fleshy pads we stand on, the clouds will reinforce the foolishness of a climb with the insult of death. And no matter how much they seductively stare back, tempting man with the most spectacular of all rock-climbing opportunities, their end guarantee remains only failure and fatality. For all of their light, beauty and jagged edges masquerading as foot-holes, clouds are liars, visually promising a glorious scale, but not even offering an anchor for your harness.<br />
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You can't climb the clouds.</div>
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And what I am doing I will continue to do, in order to undermine the claim of those who would like to claim that in their boasted mission they work on the same terms as we do. For such men are false apostles, deceitful workmen, disguising themselves as apostles of Christ. And no wonder, for <b>even Satan disguises himself as an angel of light</b>. (2 Cor. 11)</blockquote>
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I call shenanigans. Satan must be in cahoots with the clouds, teaching them their lying ways. Only, perhaps they have not learned as well as he yet. Oh yes, the clouds are liars, offering the sham of climbing its slopes to its aeroplane-bound onlookers, but one mistake they make: they will not hold your foot even for a second.</div>
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You see, Satan will hold your foot. In fact, he is a master of deceptive foot-holds, allowing you to grasp the rock-face of your sin and begin to climb. Don't worry - the steps will hold. And hold they will until you have grasped each vice, pulling yourself up to the pinnacle of this boulder of evil - a peak that promised you satisfaction, acceptance, joy, and love by means of your own self-glorification. But when you get to this peak, you find that this boulder is more like a cloud, and it lets you go as soon as you realize your foot-holds were always a fluffy, bright, beautiful illusion.</div>
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You can't climb the clouds.</div>
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And as you fall to your shameful and utter failure, you hear these words:</div>
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While I draw this fleeting breath,<br />
When mine eyes shall close in death,<br />
When I soar to worlds unknown,<br />
See thee on thy judgment throne,<br />
Rock of Ages, cleft for me,<br />
Let me hide myself in thee. </blockquote>
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This Rock of Ages, this risen Jesus, this Mountain of Shelter with a place carved just for you in its face, can catch you in your descent. And in catching you, it promises something better than foot-holds and dangerously deceptive climbs: to "soar to worlds unknown." </div>
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You can't climb the clouds. But you can fly over them if you want to.<br />
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Kingdom Seekerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05002785094733844024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1203745757084544957.post-54462983908358762452014-07-24T09:14:00.002-07:002014-07-24T09:14:24.982-07:00Warped TogetherEveryone who has a passion or hobby of some sort grows to love very specific things within that passion. For a guitarist, he might love the stiffness of a certain, rare guitar pick. For the runner, they find the particular pair of running shoes that best aids the way that their feet... hit the ground? I don't know. I can only speak of what I do know.<div>
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I am a prestidigitator - a sleight-of-hand artist, if you will. I love working with playing cards specifically, and I've learned a few things about my own tastes. I like it when card manufacturers use a thicker stock of playing card paper, like Studs (out of production). I appreciate the Linoid finish used on Tally-Ho's. I greatly value the packet-ability of Bee Wynn playing cards. This might all be Greek to you, but to me, I find great pleasure and happiness in appreciating the details. However, the flip-side of that appreciation is finding great annoyance when something is just a little bit wrong.</div>
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Warped playing cards.</div>
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It's hard to describe just how much I am disgusted with warped playing cards. Even the slightest curve make fan spreads feel wrong. They make you hate to spring the cards, because you know you will only add more distortion to the deck. And you cringe every time you see someone perform a riffle shuffle without completing it (the bridge thing), for you know that they are bending the cards without accomplishing an equal action that will unbend them. It's hard to watch.</div>
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One thing that you notice about bent playing cards is that it's almost never just one card that is warped. It is every single card in the entire deck - they are all warped together, with the same horridly unnatural twist running through the whole deck. If it was just one, you might be able to fix it; an entire deck cannot be salvaged. You must put up with them, throw them away, or do what I do and give them to people who want to play a game of cards so that you don't have to give them anything out of your more expensive decks. Selfish? Perhaps - I have 70.</div>
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You were running well. Who hindered you from obeying the truth? This persuasion is not from him who calls you. <b>A little leaven leavens the whole lump.</b> I have confidence in the Lord that you will take no other view, and the one who is troubling you will bear the penalty, whoever he is. (Galatians 5)</blockquote>
The fact of the matter is that we are the lump. You and me? Lump. The whole church of Christ? Lump. A lump of dough cannot be separated. You can't go into it and begin to separate the water from the flour. So whatever you do to one portion of it affects the rest. If you set a lump of dough on a table, with just the end of it peeking over the cliff, what happens? It is not just the little piece on the end that falls, it is a whole section of dough.<br />
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Just like a deck of cards, the church acts cohesively. If it allows false teaching in, large amounts of those who aren't careful will be poisoned with lies (as was happening to the Galatians). If someone in the church continues to remain in unrepentant sin, it will affect the people around him. We warp together. It is for this reason that we must be exceedingly careful about what we allow into this deck.<br />
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Oh, that we might let go of our self-centeredness and grasp the gravity of the reality that we are all responsible for each other - that what we do has ripple effects for those who God chose to be near to us. Let us not sit with our hands folded at the effects of our own sin and the onslaught of false, demonic teaching.<br />
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For this we have been doing far too long.</div>
Kingdom Seekerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05002785094733844024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1203745757084544957.post-7904654609964905952014-07-18T05:39:00.003-07:002014-07-18T05:43:06.922-07:00Ping-PongHow dare I?<br />
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It'll be all right. I'll think about that later.</blockquote>
There's more than this. I know it. He has more for me. He promised.<br />
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Stop it. Right now is calling.</blockquote>
...<br />
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Ignorance is bliss. Forgiveness is always there on the other side, anyway. Plus, you've already made mistakes. We'll just consider this whole thing a package deal.</blockquote>
At this point there is no ignorance. There is only willful, intentional disobedience, and to call it anything else wouldn't even be a respectable attempt to lie to myself.<br />
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You think too much. Just stop thinking. God would forgive a moment of forgetfulness, no?</blockquote>
Of course He would! But can't you see that's not the point!? More than forgiveness, I desire repentance! I want less reasons for Christ to have to forgive me! Shut your mouth and slay thyself.<br />
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...</blockquote>
Why do you stay? Why does even the name of Christ not keep your shadow from being cast over me? Why does your darkness continually loom over my head?<br />
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Because as much as you want me to leave, you've already proved that you want me to remain. Your will is weak and slowly cracking, and I do not need more than a small sliver to wedge myself inside.</blockquote>
This is God we're talking about here. Maker of every atom which dares not even spin without first asking His permission. Commander of every gale and all its raindrops, He tells them not only stop, but to begin raging. Every speck of light in thunder being told, "Here, and not there." Every sonic crack making people run from the sheer terror of simply experiencing its deafening might, and might I defy this God? This God Whose throne is surrounded by exponentially more terrifying iterations of these meek earthly detonations, and I dare willfully turn my back before the One Who gives my ankles the ability to twist? Somehow, this pathetically microscopic sack of water and carbon, when faced with the immediate, unquestioning obedience of a Creation that dwarfs its existence, shakes its fist at the heavens and says, "I deny You, Mountain-Mover." And yet, this ant dares defy Mt. Everest. What frame of rational thought exists to even conceptualize this kind of rebellion? I have decided - there is none.<br />
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...</blockquote>
This is You we're talking about here. And I've already done more than enough to break Your heart. Please don't leave me. But more than forgiveness, I ask for repentance. Would You let me walk away? You are God, and, right now, I'm not the one who gets to decide what's best for me, no matter how bad I want it. After all, of what worth is denying myself and following when it costs me little? Some, I admit. But, oh, the immeasurable reward for those who choose You when storms like these rage. Oh, Storm-Maker, I know not how to give You my will for longer than the few seconds ahead, but for these few moments, it is Yours. And when he shows his face again, as he will not long from now, may I be humbled by thunder once again.<br />
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---</blockquote>
How dare I?Kingdom Seekerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05002785094733844024noreply@blogger.com0