Egypt in the Rear-View Mirror

I had an Israelite in the wilderness moment this week. You know the story. They were in brutal bondage to the Egyptians, forced to slave day after day in the mud pits and fields to make bricks for the Pharoah's building projects. Year after year they had called out to the Eternal for deliverance and year after year there was no answer. Finally, after many years of toil and hardship, through an amazing sequence of miraculous events, God delivered the Israelites from bondage. 

 They weren't more than a few weeks on the road out of Egypt when they began to staring into the rear view mirror, lamenting the life they had left behind. "We remember the fish we ate freely in Egypt" they exclaimed, "the cucumbers, the melons, the leeks, the onions, and the garlic; but now our whole being is dried up; there is nothing at all except this manna before our eyes!" (Num. 11:5) 

 Their whining always seemed kind of ridiculous to me. How could people who had been so downtrodden desire to go back to that life? 

Well, this week the answer to that question became a little clearer and suddenly their whining, although definitely wrong, didn't seem quite so ridiculous anymore. 

 Last Monday I started a new job. It's a job that promises great opportunities for growth and development. It will allow me to work from home a couple of days a week, saving commute time and increasing the precious time I'm able to spend with my family. My wife actually found the job listing because she had sensed that I was growing weary and frustrated at my current job and new I was somewhat a square peg in a round hole there. I had held on for quite awhile, hoping things would turn around, that I would find my niche. But year after year, I just became more and more unhappy. So when the offer came, after long consideration, I accepted the position. 

 About mid-way through my first week at this new job a funny thing began to happen. I began to miss my old job. The office I had there was much bigger than my new space. The computer equipment wasn't as nice. I was informed that because of a deadline that had to be met by the end of October, I might have to work overtime for which, because I'm now salaried, I wouldn't receive any extra compensation, and to top it all off, there seemed to be more traffic congestion on my commute to work than I had experienced before. 

In the face of these new obstacles, the problems and frustrations I experienced at my old job faded from memory and mid week, I was feeling like I had made a big mistake...that is until my wife, upon listening to my distressed whining that Wednesday evening, lovingly reminded me of all of the reasons I had made the change. Thanks to her, and some time in prayer and reflection, I realized that these new obstacles were in fact minor compared to the benefits and opportunities this new job offers. I'm now more confident than ever that I made the right move. 

Now I spent only a day or so in distress over this crisis. Some people spend a great deal of their lives looking back at Egypt in the rear view mirror, lamenting over a life that could have been, should have been, had different decisions been made. It's a strange kind of slavery they subject themselves to. Paul says in Hebrews 12:1 "...let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which so easily ensnares us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us..." That's advice the Israelites would have done well to follow and advice that we need to be reminded of from time to time as well. A race car driver who spends all of his time looking in the mirror is not going to win many races. While we're on this road of life, we would do better to look ahead at where God is taking us, focusing on the hope for the future rather than looking back lamenting about what we have left behind. I finished this week much more upbeat than I had been on Wednesday. I'm still missing my old office but it's worth sacrificing for the chance to work in my pajamas a couple days. More important than that though, is that I'm now looking through the windshield instead of what's in the rear view mirror.

Spiritual Poison Ivy

Written by Tony Stith New Horizons Community Fellowship This week my daughter has been dealing with the effects of an encounter with poison ivy the week before. The right side of her face became almost unrecognizable as it became swollen and turned a bright shade of red. This vile plant grows prolifically on our three acre plot of land. Over the 13 years that we've lived here I've waged a battle to eradicate it from those parts of our property that we use and maintain. But even though you can't see evidence of it's existence above ground, it's root system, which seemingly never dies and extends like a vast network, continues to thrive in the soil underneath. We're fairly certain that it was from soil containing these roots that Courtney, while weeding a flower bed, came into contact with the stuff. The problem with poison ivy is that once it's on the skin it's almost impossible to stop it's damaging affects unless recognized and dealt with immediately. In very rare cases, exposure to large amounts of the plant's oil can cause complications that can lead to death. As we watched our daughter's face swell, we did become a little concerned that this was more than just an uncomfortable nuisance. After consulting the local nurse line and after doing some research, we did finally find some medicine (very expensive medicine I might add) that has done wonders in alleviating some of the discomfort and in helping to draw out the poison faster. It's still taking time to heal, but we aren't worried for our daughter's recovery. Paul writes in Romans 7:18 - 20 "For I know that in me (that is, in my flesh) nothing good dwells; for to will is present with me, but how to perform what is good I do not find. For the good that I will to do, I do not do; but the evil I will not to do, that I practice." He continues in Rom 7:24 - 25 "O wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death? I thank God—through Jesus Christ our Lord! So then, with the mind I myself serve the law of God, but with the flesh the law of sin." As Christians we have had our senses trained by the Holy Spirit and by God's word to recognize sin. But, as Paul here recognized in his own life, even though we do our best to eradicate any vestiges of it from our lives, because we are human and because we live in a fallen world, we will never be able to completely keep ourselves from it's harmful affects. It's tentacles reach into areas we cannot see before we have fallen prey to it's poison. It still has the power to bring us under the death penalty. Paul, however, does reveal the antidote. There's only one way to be released from it's grip. We have the utlimate healing balm...and it's not expensive...it's freely given. It's the blood of our Savior who gave His life for us so that we could be released from the penalty of sin. We still, like my daughter, may have to suffer the consequences of sins affects in our life. We may need to let the infection run it's course. But it should be comforting to know that through the power of His blood, our ultimate healing is certain.

Surviving Life in the Pressure Cooker

When I as a kid my mom was big into canning. Strawberries, peaches, apples, you name it... if it grew on a tree or a bush, she canned it. Now if you know anything about canning, which many these days don't, you'd know that an essential implement in the process is the pressure cooker. And we had a big one. In fact, it was so big and noisy, it used to scare me. When this beast of a stainless steel pot got up to a certain temperature, it would rattle and rock violently on the stove top from the pressure of the steam that was building up inside. The only thing that kept it from blowing was a little cap on the top that let just enough steam out to avoid certain disaster, or at least avoided cooked peaches being strewn all over the kitchen. As a kid I would steer a wide birth around this thing because I thought, "if that thing gets clogged, it's going to blow!" Thankfully it never did...and we spent many a winter enjoying the fruits of my mother's efforts in the kitchen the previous summer. I've learned a little about stress lately. I'm in the middle of a job change, transitioning from the career I've known for seven years, where I've grown somewhat comfortable, where some of my co-workers have become like second family. Now I'm going to a new environment with unknown challenges, unknown personalities, unknown culture. Needless to say I've felt interally somewhat like one of those pressure cookers my mother used long ago, except in my case I didn't have a release cap to keep it from blowing. I didn't realize just how much pressure was building till I found myself in the back of an ambulance one day last week hooked up to an EKG machine. I had called 911 on the way home from work because I felt I was having what I thought was a heart attack. I was short of breath, becoming increasingly dizzy to the point of blacking out with tingling sensations in my toes and hands. Well, after a full battery of tests, including several needle sticks and donations into a little cup, I was given the all clear. My heart was fine, everything else looked fine... The diagnosis? Hypertension brought on more than likely from...you guessed it...stress. Since that day I've been trying to do all of the right things doctors tell you to do. Reduce salt intake, get more rest, exercise daily, eat healthier. In short. Release some of that stress that has been building up in my body. I've tackled these instructions with a passion and I do feel better, even after half a week. There is one piece of instruction, however, that the doctor did not give me...but instruction that I know, more than all of these things, would do more to combat my stress than anything else. I Peter 5:7 tells us to cast our cares on God for He cares for us. At the root of stress is really the fear of the unkown. Of all people, we as Christians, should have every reason to be at peace internally. Yes, there are unknowns in life, but God is sovereign. He has called us and is working out His plan within us. The more I can trust that He cares for me and cast my burden on Him, the greater peace I can have, regardless of the situations I encounter in life. The same is true of major life changes such as my transition to a new job. If I have prayed about a decision, asked God to direct my path, requested that He open and close doors as appropriate in my life, then I need to have confidence that He will do that. In short I need to have faith in Him. The world will continue to turn the heat on. Responsibilities will always be there, bosses will always expect 110%, family problems will crop up sporadically... But regardless of the pressures we face...we can have faith that our God who cares for us will carry our burden. That faith is the best release cap of all.

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"I will meditate on Your precepts, and contemplate Your ways. I will delight myself in Your statutes; I will not forget Your word." Psalms 119:15 - 16

Feet Firmly Planted

Written by Tony Stith
New Horizons Community Fellowship
My wife and I took our two kids and a couple of their friends to Valley Fair, Minnesota's biggest amusement park, this week. I don't know why they call them amusement parks. In my mind, there's nothing in the least amusing about them. They should more accurately be labeled panic parks, terror parks, check your brains at the door parks...Something more befitting the sensations these parks are designed to provoke.

You probably have surmised thus far that I'm not a big fan of rides. I just don't think God intended for man to find creative ways to scare the pajeebers out of ourselves. That, and a few other reasons, are why I staged a little passive resistance this week when we went to visit the local "death" park. Despite my teenage son and his friends best efforts to get me strapped into rides with therapeutic names such as the "Wild Thing", the "Steele Venom" or the "Power Tower" I resolutely determined to keep both of my feet firmly planted on the ground and the contents of my stomach where they belonged...in my stomach.

As I stood at the base of these towering torture chambers watching the family I loved being tossed about mercilessly like stuffed pillows in a pillow fight and congratulating myself for making the wise decision to stay on the ground, I couldn't help but wax spiritually philosophical.

In the realm of the spiritual there are never ending amounts of Christian amusements and diversions to be had. Their flashing neon lights catch our attention, beckoning us to strap ourselves in and let them take us on twisting, turning, thrilling rides to places we've never been before. This ride over here promises to rocket us into the Purpose Driven Life. That ride over there promises to help us Find Your Best Life Now and yet another claims to be able to shoot us to new heights of Possibility Thinking. Christians in droves strap themselves into these and other spiritual diversions. They are emotionally tossed and turned, rocketed back and forth until the ride ends, the excitement fades, and they come out the exit somewhat dizzy and unstable, finding it difficult to walk again on solid ground.

2 Tim 4:3 - 4 tells us... "For the time will come when they will not endure sound doctrine, but according to their own desires, because they have itching ears, they will heap up for themselves teachers; and they will turn their ears away from the truth, and be turned aside to fables."

Eph 4:14 instructs us to "...no longer be children, tossed to and fro and carried about with every wind of doctrine..."

God didn't intend for His people to be twisted and turned and swept away by every wind of doctrine....some new interpretation here or unique three step plan of fulfillment there. He wants us to keep both of our feet firmly planted on the bedrock of his Word. That is where we find life. That is where we find fulfillment. And ultimately, that is the most thrilling and rewarding ride of all.

I think our family has had it's fill of amusement parks for this summer at least. Who knows, maybe next summer my son will finally succeed in getting me strapped into one of those death contraptions. It's not likely, but I know he'll keep trying. I'm pretty adamant about keeping my feet planted firmly on terra firma. I'm determined to keep my spiritual feet there as well.

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"I will meditate on Your precepts, and contemplate Your ways. I will delight myself in Your statutes; I will not forget Your word." Psalms 119:15 - 16

A Beauty to be Shared

The other night my wife and I went on a walk in our country neighborhood. It was the first day the temp had been under 90 degrees for about a week so we wanted to get out of the house and get some air that wasn't recycled.

About half a mile from our house we came upon a scene that elicited both a chuckle and a feeling of sadness at the same time. It was a house whose owners had obviously put a great deal of work into a flower garden that lay to one side of their property. It wasn't a large garden but it was exploding with beautiful color...that is... what color you could see. It would have been the perfect scene of natural beauty had it not been for a 4 foot tall metal fence that they had erected around the perimeter of the entire flower garden. It was as if the flowers had been placed in the state penitentiary. Much of the beauty of the garden had been horribly masked by the ugliness of cold steel.

It was obvious to us why they must have put up the fence. Given the mildness of the previous three winters, the critter population in the area had exploded. These well-meaning people had erected this barricade to defend their prize flowers from becoming critter salad. Flowers and shrubbery aren't cheap, and rabbits in particular can take out quite a few flower plants in short order.

I couldn't help but think that, had it been my garden, I would have tried to find some more unobtrusive way to protect my flowers. If, having found none, I think I would rather run the expense of occasionally replacing a few plants than hiding them away in Fort Knox.

You know, looking at the flower bed I couldn't help but be reminded of a casual acquaintance I had while in college. This person had qualities very similar to this garden. It took me quite a while to learn that this individual was a wonderful person on the inside. She was witty, thoughtful and enjoyable to be around. The problem was that she was terribly shy and closed up on the outside. Unless you were lucky enough to get behind the walled off exterior, you never would have the pleasure of getting to know much about her at all.

I never knew what circumstances in life caused this acquaintance of mine to shut herself off emotionally from much of the world. I have a hard time believing that she was simply born that way. Her emotional closure exceeded simple shyness. Perhaps, like the flowers in the flower bed, her leaves had been chewed on a few too many times in life. She may have been picked on or teased as a child or perhaps rejected by peers too many times as a teenager. Whatever the circumstances, they led to her to pound in the stakes and erect a practically impenetrable steel cage around her emotions.

Jesus gives some difficult instruction in Luke 6. He says in verses 27 through 31 "But I say to you who hear: Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, and pray for those who spitefully use you. To him who strikes you on the one cheek, offer the other also. And from him who takes away your cloak, do not withhold your tunic either. Give to everyone who asks of you. And from him who takes away your goods do not ask them back. And just as you want men to do to you, you also do to them likewise."

I think if I were to summarize these words of Jesus it would be "don't build fences". Regardless of how people or events may hurt us we as Christians are to continue to reach out, to open ourselves up, to others. We aren't to close ourselves off from the world, regardless of how vulnerable we may feel.

I've long since lost contact with my acquaintance from college. Actually, it wasn't till I saw that fenced in garden that she came to mind. I guess there wasn't much to remember of someone who shared so little of themselves. That, in itself, is sad. I pray that she gradually was able to let down her protective fencing and let others in to share her life. I pray that she learned that to risk having a few leaves chewed on is far preferable to the lonelinesss of hiding behind an iron curtain. The work that God is doing within us is simply much too beautiful not to be shared.

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"I will meditate on Your precepts, and contemplate Your ways. I will delight myself in Your statutes; I will not forget Your word." Psalms 119:15 - 16

On the Brink?

As I write the Middle East is exploding in chaos. Two days ago Hezbollah, a terrorist group centered in Lebanon, launched missiles into Haifa, Israel's third largest city. Today, they have hit three or four other cities in Israel. Israel has responded with missile barrages on key infrastructure in Lebanonn which it claims harbors Hezbollah and has responsibility for controlling it.

It is widely believed that this action against Israel by Hezbollah was carried out at behest of Iran and Syria, who are known suppliers and supporters of the guerilla group. Interestingly, the missiles that hit Haifa were both supplied by Iran and some speculate that it may have been Iranianss stationed in Lebanon who launched it. Hezbollah has previously not had the military capability to launch these longer range Iranian missiles by themselves.

It's easy to imagine how this confrontation could escalate into a regional war. I've heard some analysts speculating that because of it's current tensions with Iran, the U.S. could potentially be drawn into the conflict.

It's a scary time. It also may be a prophetic time. This is the first time that rockets with this kind of range have been fired at Israel, hitting a city deep within it's borders. It's interesting to note that this occurred on the anniversary of the date that Rome breached the walls of Jerusalem in 70 A.D.

If this confrontation does escalate into a larger war I believe it will be the culmination of a series of events that began on 9/11, when two towers fell at the hands of terrorists in the chief international economic center on the planet, New York City. The U.S. is just waking up to the realization that our war in Iraq is actually a war with extremists across the entire middle east who see the war with Israel and the war with America as one and the same. It's becoming clear that as long as Syria and Iran supply money and arms to terrorists fighting our troops and those fighting Israel, democracy, or peace for that matter, can never be established in the region. A direct confrontation with Iran and Syria seems inevitable.

Now for a little wild prophetic speculation:
A prophecy in Revelation 14:8 goes like this: "And another angel followed, saying, 'Babylon is fallen, is fallen, that great city, because she has made all nations drink of the wine of the wrath of her fornication.'" I'm no expert on prophecy but there is something in the wording of this one that gives me pause, particularly the use of the word "fallen". Could this possibly be a prophetic reference to 9/11? Not that I feel America is Babylon by any means. The Babylon of Revelation does not necessarily refer to any one nation, but an economic system that transcends borders. Isn't it true that the current international heart of that worldwide system is New York and prior to 9/11 the two towers of the World Trade Center specifically? It's interesting and disturbing to contemplate.

If 9/11 was the beginning of a chain events that will ultimately lead to the fall of this worldwide Babylonish economic system, then we are in for some turbulent times ahead. We'll have to wait and see. All eyes are on Israel.

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"I will meditate on Your precepts, and contemplate Your ways. I will delight myself in Your statutes; I will not forget Your word." Psalms 119:15 - 16

It's All About the Coach

The NBA season has just come to an end. The only reason I know this is because I saw the highlights on the news the other night.

It's not that I don't like basketball. There was a time when I couldn't get enough of it. But over the last several years my interest has waned. Why? Well, partly it's because I've gotten fed up with the nihilistic, self-important attitude of many of today's players. Mostly, though, it's because many of those whom I consider the giants of basketball have now retired. Guys like Dr. J, Magic Johnson, Larry Bird, Kareem Abdul Jabar, Michael Jordan...guys whose feats on the court I was mesmerized by during my teen years. They knew how to play the game the way it should be played.

Okay, Okay...I realize that somewhere out there is a fourteen year old basketball fan who might take issue with that statement. For them, the guys playing today are the stars. They view the heroes of my youth the way I used to view the heroes of basketball fans 20 years my senior. Yeah, sure, Wilt Chaimberlain, Bill Walton, Bill Russel, Jerry Reed...they were good, but they couldn't touch the likes of a Larry Bird or an Air Jordan. I guess it's all relative.

I had always assumed that without the talent of these superstars, the teams they played on wouldn't ever have had the success they enjoyed. After all, who could imagine the Bulls winning six consecutive NBA titles without Michael Jordan? Unthinkable right!? Who can imagine the Lakers without Kareem's sky-hook or Magic Johnson's...well...magic on the court? They brought a great deal of physical talent and showmanship to the game. But do they deserve all of the credit, or even most of the credit, for their teams success?

If you happened to watch the same clip that I watched on the news this week you saw clearly the answer to that question. There they were. A bunch of sweaty guys in Miami Heat uniforms whose faces I didn't recognize gathered around one face I did. That face was their coach, Pat Riley. It was the same face I'd seen on the sidelines years ago as I anxiously cheered my heroes slamdunking and gunning their way to an earlier NBA championship.

Pat Riley looked a bit older than I remembered him but he had the same fire and passion and confidence in his demeaner as he did when he coached Magic Johnson, Kareem Abdul Jabar, James Worthy, Michael Cooper and Kurt Rambis to four consecutive NBA rings. And here he was again, leading a completely different group of somebody else's heroes to yet another.

The lesson is clear isn't it? It's one I wish some of today's self-important players who think they walk on water would get through their heads. They truly are just bit players. The real credit goes to the coach.

It's about the coach for us too isn't it Christian?

Rom 12:3 tells us "not to think of (ourselves)... more highly than (we)... ought to think, but to think soberly, as God has dealt to each one a measure of faith."

When we are tempted to think that our contribution, our talent, our sacrifice deserves more credit or attention than it gets.... or to bask too long in the glow of positive attention or credit when it does come our way, it's important we remember that the real honor, the real glory, goes to our coach, Jesus Christ. It is He who has placed us on His team. It is He who gives us the tools and support to serve Him. Whatever success we have in life comes as a result of using the gifts that He has given and is directing in us. He rightly gets the glory and the credit.

We couldn't ask to be on a better team or to play under a better coach. On His team, we are all champions.

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"I will meditate on Your precepts, and contemplate Your ways. I will delight myself in Your statutes; I will not forget Your word." Psalms 119:15 - 16

Teaching God

The other day I attended my son Jordan’s piano recital. I don’t usually get excited about piano recitals. It’s one thing to endure your own children struggle to find the right key night after night for weeks on end, but sitting through two hours of other people’s kids doing the same thing is downright painful.

But this recital was different. Why? Because every note was played on key? No. There were plenty of “G” sharps that should have been “B” flats. It wasn’t any less painful to endure. This recital was special because my son actually participated.

About three years ago, at the end of another recital, he announced to us that he’d had enough. He no longer wanted to play the piano. This was devastating to me. One gift I’ve been determined to impart to my children is a gift that I personally was never given: the gift of music. I had hoped that both of my children would at least advance to a level where their ability to produce beautiful music could bring a lifetime of enjoyment. My hopes, it seemed, were being derailed.

I couldn’t blame him, though, for wanting to quit. The fun had gone out of it for him. Only a year earlier, you couldn’t drag him away from the piano. Now it took an act of congress to get him to practice for even ten minutes. Some of his loss of enthusiasm I attributed to adolescence; lacking the discipline and maturity to do what it takes to learn. But the lion share of his dying enthusiasm I blamed on his teacher. This well meaning lady's style of instruction consisted of methodically working through principles of music theory and technique by practicing lifeless, outdated music. She also put a great deal of pressure on the kids to participate in local piano competitions and recitals. I suspected she was concerned less with what the children gained from the experience than with promoting her piano lesson business in the local community. Neither of these approaches worked well with my son.

So after Jordan’s adamant announcement we decided to switch tracks. After a brief hiatus we found another piano instructor with a decidedly different approach to music instruction.

What a refreshing change it was. The first thing this teacher asked when the kids walked into her house was what kind of music they enjoyed. "That’s the music", she said with a smile, "you're going to play." Over the next several months of lessons we were impressed that this instructor seemed less concerned that our kids master the mechanics of the music they played than that they be sufficiently motivated by their enjoyment in playing it.

Her reasoning was simple. If you teach the love of music, interest will be maintained over time, and the rest, the method, correct technique, will come naturally. If you teach method first, the love will die, and eventually, so will the learning.

I believe there is a lot of wisdom in that approach. I immediately saw the fruits of it in my children, particularly my son. They couldn't wait to get to the music store to pick out their music and get to the piano.

I think it would pay for our churches to apply this approach in it's efforts to teach it's members children about God. I’ve seen too many Bible school curriculums that jump immediately into the mechanics; the “what” of our faith; without first teaching the “why.” Absent that context; absent an active relationship to build on; the "what" just becomes information.

How much greater would be our success if we strived first to instill in our children a loving relationship with God before funneling lists of memory scriptures and doctrinal statements into their heads. If our children develop a love for God, interest in a relationship with Him will be maintained, and the rest will come naturally. They will want to read His book. They will want to be where other members of His family are. They will want to please Him. It’s that simple.

My son did a great job at the recital. Oh yes, he hit a wrong key a few times... but it was all music to my ears. This time he left the stage with a smile instead of a grimace. He’s learning a skill that will bring him enjoyment the rest of his life…and he’s loving it. I couldn’t be more proud.

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"I will meditate on Your precepts, and contemplate Your ways. I will delight myself in Your statutes; I will not forget Your word." Psalms 119:15 - 16

Unrighteous Judgment

Zacarias Moussaoui was sentenced to life in prison this week for his role in the death of the 2,973 people who died on 9/11. It was reported that as part of a plea that Moussaoui not to be given the death penalty, his defense team cited his dysfunctional childhood. Apparently, the fact that he didn’t have a good relationship with his dad is supposed to make us feel more charitable with regard to the punishment that should be meted out for his heinous crime.

Although, the decision for me was disappointing, I wasn’t surprised. It’s a sad refrain that unfortunately is all too often spouted these days as an excuse for the perverse and evil actions of some of the vilest people in our society. If all else fails in their defense; blame their upbringing.

The idea that suffering past abuse or dysfunction automatically predisposes one to a twisted value system is ludicrous. Even more preposterous is the notion that this reasoning can and should be used to justify or excuse behavior arising from that value system.

Although I don’t know for sure, it would seem to me very probable that Hitler had a less than perfect childhood. If true, should history excuse his actions or reduce our collective sentence on Him as a result? Conversely, I have read that the boys who killed their fellow students so unmercifully in the Columbine tragedy grew up in very balanced, loving homes. The point? Past events and circumstances cannot, should not, be considered a reliable indicator of, let alone an excuse for, current abhorrent behavior.

We have the choice what values we will live by. Joshua 24:15 tells us to” choose for yourselves this day whom you will serve.” Rom 6:16 says, “Do you not know that to whom you present yourselves slaves to obey, you are that one’s slaves whom you obey, whether of sin leading to death, or of obedience leading to righteousness?” Implicit in these passages is the idea that regardless of our past, we have the ability to choose the values we will serve now.

In my library at home I have a series of books by David Pelzer. The first installment in the series is titled “A Child Called It". In this and subsequent books by Mr. Pelzer, he details how he was systematically abused by his parents from an early age. Most of his subsequent adolescent life was spent being shipped from one foster home to the next. Some of these homes weren’t much better than what he experienced at the hands of his birth parents. Yet, somehow David rose above it. Rather than repeating the cycle of abuse with his own family…he chose to go in a totally opposite direction. He now travels the country seeking to help other children who suffer as he did.

David Pelzers’ story is not an aberration. There are plenty of similar stories of people who despite terrible circumstances determined they weren’t going to repeat the cycle of their past. It’s altogether possible that the guy or gal who stops to hold the door for you at the at the local grocery store may be a victim of an abusive childhood.

The Bible doesn’t give Christians the luxury of hiding behind our past. We are told in Romans 6:23 that "the wages of sin is death." There’s no indication here that God distinguishes between what caused the sin. Regardless of what the cause, we are responsible, and the penalty is the same in all cases.

I can’t imagine on that final judgement day if anyone will get too far with God the Father and Jesus Chrsit by launching into a litany of past hurts and abuses in an attempt to reduce the severity of their sentence. I just don’t think it will fly. No one else’s name will be on the page but their own. It’s not only fair, it’s righteous judgment.

It’s a standard of judgment that we can only wish would be applied to the Zacarias Moussaoui’s of this world.

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"I will meditate on Your precepts, and contemplate Your ways. I will delight myself in Your statutes; I will not forget Your word." Psalms 119:15 - 16

The Courage to be a Friend

It was a rough time at school last week for my ten year old daughter. She experienced her first visit to Detention. A friend asked her to break a school rule and, because she didn’t want to risk losing her friendship with this girl, she went along…and got caught. 

 When I spoke with my daughter I tried to say the things that any good parent would say. I stressed to her the importance of picking her friends carefully. I told her that a true friend would never purposely ask her to do something that might get her in trouble. I told her that friends will come and go, but she will always have to look at herself in the mirror. I told her that if she stands for what she knows is right, she might risk losing a few friends along the way, but the ones she keeps will be stronger and deeper because she did. Basically, I wanted her to understand that being a true friend takes courage. 

 Proverbs 27:17 tells us that “as iron sharpens iron, so a man sharpens the countenance of His friend.”

 It’s a beautiful word picture for the type of friends we should have and the purpose for which God has designed them. Iron, of course, is a very hard substance. It is unyielding. It doesn’t bend easily. The image that this passage in Proverbs brings to mind is one of two swords, both made of iron, being swiftly stroked together for the purpose of sharpening. 

It takes some skill to master the technique of sharpening blades this way. The blades have to be stroked at just the correct angle or there is risk of actually doing more damage than good. Carelessly clashing one blade against the other or gliding them across each other at two steep of an angle can mar the blade, causing more nicks and imperfections than were there already. However, done correctly, and with care, just the opposite will occur. Initially the friction needed to sharpen the blades can seem rather rough. The blades can actually bounce away from each other as imperfections are encountered and confronted. But the persistent act of applying just the right degree of pressure at the correct angle will gradually yield a razor-like sharpness in both blades. It’s a beautiful process to behold for anyone who has seen it done. 

It’s a beautiful process to behold in a friendship as well. These are the types of friends we need in our lives. Friends, whose values, like iron are solid and unbending. Friends who care enough about us to sharpen us and allow us to sharpen them. That’s the kind of friendship of which this passage speaks. 

Unfortunately, there are friends who are more like polishing cloths than iron swords. Those who maintain their relationships by glossing over problems or polishing fragile egos. “If I just show them enough love,” this type of friend might say, “maybe they will change.” “It’s a God job.” 

It goes without saying that no amount of polishing will make a sword any sharper. The sword being polished might look prettier; it might have a nice shine, but that’s about it. Over time, constant polishing will actually have a dulling affect on the blade. The edge will deteriorate if not sharpened properly. And we all know what eventually happens to the cloth used to give it this pretty finish. It will inevitably become dirty and tattered and outlive it’s usefulness. Once used up, it will be tossed away only to be replaced by another just like it. 

We’ve probably all known a sword polisher at one time or another. Maybe we’ve even been that person. It’s the person who bends and compromises their own standard of behavior rather than make waves. They might engage in hurtful gossip. They might laugh along with inappropriate or crass jokes; perhaps even telling a few themselves. They might use language that as a Christian they wouldn’t normally use. The sword polisher could be the person who, seeing a friend involved in behavior destructive to themselves or others, neglects to go to them for fear of straining the relationship. So they remain quiet, glossing over it, hoping the situation will resolve itself on it’s own. They hope that if they just show enough love to the person, set the right example, God will somehow reveal to the friend the error of his or her ways. 

Galations 6:1 tells us that if our brother is overtaken in a trespass that we should restore them in the spirit of meekness. As Christians, God gives us the gift of friendship so that we can be tools in His hands to sharpen each other. We are to be iron swords, not polishing cloths. If we truly do love our friend, when we see them being overtaken in a trespass, we will be willing to risk momentary friction and discomfort, even separation, in our effort to restore them. If done in the spirit of meekness, with the right motivation, with care, we will be sharpened in the process as well. 

It takes courage to be this kind of friend. It’s the kind of courage I spoke about with my daughter as she stood before me teary eyed last week. She was obviously sorry for the mistake she had made. I was encouraged that what I was telling her seemed to have a positive impact. Usually when I launch into lecture mode with my children I’m met with glazed eyes. This time I noticed what I can only interpret as resolve to not make the same mistake again. It’s that kind of steely resolve that’s perfect for sharpening.

An Enemy to be Feared?

My best friend from my college days died a few days ago. He had been battling cancer for a number of years. He and I were the same age, he only a few months older. Of the two of us, he was the more athletic, the more energetic, the more full of life. People like him aren't supposed to get sick...aren't supposed to die early. Yet he did, and he has. Death doesn't discriminatee.

It's hard to wrap my mind around the thoughts my friend must have had these last days and weeks of his life; the fear he must have experienced, the uncertainly of how long he had left and finally the resignation and realization that his battle was ending. He was a Christian, with a hope, or rather an assurance, of a life hereafter. I know it gave Him comfort.

Death is a difficult concept to grasp for most of us. It's hard to imagine not being here, existing, breathing. It's hard to imagine no consciousness, no being. God tells us in His word that He has put eternity in our hearts. Maybe that's why the concept of death is so hard for us to fathom. It's not a natural state for us. It's foreign to the purpose for which we have been created. Our natural state is to be alive, to be eternal. That, God's word teaches us, is our destiny.

Well meaning Christians tell us we shouldn't fear death. I think they are wrong. Death is to be feared. Death is darkness, death is separation from all that we know, both physical and spiritual. There's nothing positive about death. I think perhaps the most dreaded words uttered by God in the entire Bible were when He said to Adam and Eve "...you shall surely die." Of course, It's possible our ancient parents didn't understand the meaning of it as do we, their children. They had not as yet experienced the death of someone they loved, someone they cared about. They weren't yet fully aware of their own vulnerability. Had they fully understood it, perhaps they may have thought twice before sinking their teeth into that piece of fruit, no matter how tempting.

The Bible says that a day will come when the earth will give up its' dead. Death itself will be thrown in the lake of fire. We're told it's the final enemy that will be destroyed when our Savior returns. Just think of it; no more suffering, no more fear, no more uncertainty, no more mourning, no more tragic endings.

I'd like to be there when it is finally put down, as it gasps its' last breath. It deserves all it gets. It's taken some good people in its' time. A few of them, like as my freind, I knew and loved. I'm looking forward to getting them, and him, back. I take joy in knowing it's days are numbered.

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"I will meditate on Your precepts, and contemplate Your ways. I will delight myself in Your statutes; I will not forget Your word." Psalms 119:15 - 16