I have been getting bombarded lately and it stinks. I keep attending 40 days of prayer, but I am just not into it. I am an action person, and want to be out visiting people, or doing more than staying at the church for a prescribed hour each night. There are people we should go see, that seems more effective.
And I don’t feel like it is doing much for me. I know I could be worse off. But all this financial stuff is just weighing me down. Dad calls and is ready to file bankruptcy. We are attempting to pay off his American Express card that we used a few years back when Kim broke her back. We paid him $5,000 earlier in 2008 to pay off another debt, which kind of hurt us. He has money, but he does not know how to deal with it. He plays the lottery daily, and says that now he has quit. He is dating, and the woman sounds reasonable. But he doesn’t seem to get it. When all this “what we owe him” talk came up, it drove a wedge between Michelle (my sister) and I and we have not talked since September of last year. I wish I could be free of the debt, but there are really no options out there. I have contacted debt management places, but have heard nothing back. I pray, but get no answers. I keep hoping for that surprise check to show up, but it doesn’t.
So what do we do? On top of everything else, not the junior senator’s wife has another surgery coming up soon. I worry about that. A young girl in our church tried to take her own life the other night, and I worry about her, her parents, and her brother and sister. Another girl grieves for the family that has abandoned her, and the family she wishes she were a part of. A woman in the church fights cancer, another the loss of a loved one (actually two women grieve for lost husbands), a young man struggles with seizures, another with hearing loss. A young man struggles with alcoholism, and another, and another. One man is trying to quit smoking, and another questions his worth. I have a son in college, so there are more worries. I am not alone. If I did not have Jesus in my life, it would be such a waste.
And what do I do? I worry too much, complain too much, and cry out…too much. But I don’t pray enough, care enough, or love enough to help everyone else with their problems. And I want to…see a young couple find jobs, see a dear friend come back to church, see an adopted mom start to set examples for the two young girls that need her so bad, see my pastor happy again…
It is all too much to ask for? Isn’t there a stimulus package for pain, for hurt, something to help me in my uncomfortableness besides pizza and sugar? Because right now…I am longing for a little more.
Not the Junior Senator from Illinois
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
How Sunday happened
I walked into church this past Sunday morning with a headache. Then I got the morning papers. To read that our current Junior Senator may have perjured himself suddenly made my headache go away.
And then church started. It was pretty painful watching our pastor get frustrated because things were not going the way he was hoping. The sound booth took a hit, messing up on a song, and he went back to investigate. Then God took hold and made him stop for a minute and calm down.
And then the service got taken over by God.
What impressed me that morning was the "complete joy" I saw on the faces of some people. One mom in particular was so happy because her husband and their oldest daughter were working things out at the altar. She looked so happy.
And then I saw Mark.
It is hard to believe that two years ago he and I almost came to blows after an awfully silly arguement.
Because now he is so awesome and he has no idea.
I watch him.
Not creepy stalker kind of watching, just casual observation.
And he is pretty cool.
He is a good dad. He worries about his girls. He attends all their sporting events, and he is the super fan.
And he worries about their friends.
And he works hard to keep his family comfortable.
That was what got to me on Sunday morning. To look at the faces and see people honestly concerned about their family and their extended church family. And I hope it continues.
We are a pretty mixed up bunch sometimes. But we do love each other. And that is what we need to keep the focus on...so that people see God in us.
And then church started. It was pretty painful watching our pastor get frustrated because things were not going the way he was hoping. The sound booth took a hit, messing up on a song, and he went back to investigate. Then God took hold and made him stop for a minute and calm down.
And then the service got taken over by God.
What impressed me that morning was the "complete joy" I saw on the faces of some people. One mom in particular was so happy because her husband and their oldest daughter were working things out at the altar. She looked so happy.
And then I saw Mark.
It is hard to believe that two years ago he and I almost came to blows after an awfully silly arguement.
Because now he is so awesome and he has no idea.
I watch him.
Not creepy stalker kind of watching, just casual observation.
And he is pretty cool.
He is a good dad. He worries about his girls. He attends all their sporting events, and he is the super fan.
And he worries about their friends.
And he works hard to keep his family comfortable.
That was what got to me on Sunday morning. To look at the faces and see people honestly concerned about their family and their extended church family. And I hope it continues.
We are a pretty mixed up bunch sometimes. But we do love each other. And that is what we need to keep the focus on...so that people see God in us.
Friday, February 13, 2009
Monday, February 9, 2009
Just an update
The office is insane. I have been demoted (promoted) to up front until the return of an injured coworker. At least Governor Q seems to be doing well. I wont be writing for a few days, at least until things chill.
But all is well.
But all is well.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
What you should know about my blog (updated) plus Blague updates
Let me try to be clear about something as you read this: first thing is I am a Christian, albeit not the best one, but I attempt it. Second, the title of the blog is all in fun. I, in no way, shape, or form, think that Illinois Governor Milorad Blagojevich, a.k.a. Rod, Governor Beautiful Hair, Superhair, GROD, Blague, is innocent. As the Senate is starting to listen to the tapes of his conversations, it is evident that he is a corrupt and icky little person. Third, I work for the State of Illinois, so I know what an evil and terrible governor he has been. I am in the Capitol, and he is not. He has tweaked his nose since day one at the way things should work, so the blog name is all a joke.
Fourth, on occasion, I may preach a little. It is good practice for when my pastor, a.k.a Elf, Munchkin, Stubby, Shorty, Weeman, Oompa-lumpa, cookie maker, makes me preach.
Fifth, I may not interest you everyday when you read this. The subject may bore you, so my suggestion is simple: stop reading, go and find a copy of Robocop, and watch it instead (thanks Kang). If you think my blog is bad, then Robocop may help you rethink that.
As Governor Blague makes the media rounds, I am very impressed (honestly) at how good a memory he has. He has repeated the same little speech several times in the last two days. “The Senate needs to let me speak, to call witnesses, like Rahm Emmanuel, U.S. Senators, blah…blah.” He has it down, but I am also kind of shocked by how much he sounds like Drew Peterson. “I did not, and I say it again, I did not kill my wife.” How many times can you say the same thing, before you really start to believe it? It is a creepy little political mantra of lies. “I did not have sexual relations with Miss Lewinsky.” Oops, and I actually like Clinton.
My only problem with this medial blitz (not my words) is how worthless the media has become. Not the Junior Senator’s wife and I were talking about the old reporters this morning. And once we remembered all their names (John Chancellor forgive me) it occurred to us how awful the current reporters really are. Chancellor was in Vietnam, Brinkley went after stories, even Geraldo used to be somewhat credible, but left that credibility in Capone’s vault. Ask the real questions, like “are you a big, fat liar?” or “Are you having an affair in Springfield?” or “How much do you think your children will be scarred by all this?” The current batch of reporters….suck!
I mean honestly, does he think he is doing something good here?
Rod, (if I can call you that) please listen to me. Take your ball, leave the playground, and go home. It’s over, and you lost. You are killing me, this State, your kids, everyone involved. Just Quit. I don’t want to hear Patti begging President Obama for a pardon in eight years. Or Senator Durbin…(hey, he did it for Governor Ryan).
“Don’t go away mad, just go away.”
Fourth, on occasion, I may preach a little. It is good practice for when my pastor, a.k.a Elf, Munchkin, Stubby, Shorty, Weeman, Oompa-lumpa, cookie maker, makes me preach.
Fifth, I may not interest you everyday when you read this. The subject may bore you, so my suggestion is simple: stop reading, go and find a copy of Robocop, and watch it instead (thanks Kang). If you think my blog is bad, then Robocop may help you rethink that.
As Governor Blague makes the media rounds, I am very impressed (honestly) at how good a memory he has. He has repeated the same little speech several times in the last two days. “The Senate needs to let me speak, to call witnesses, like Rahm Emmanuel, U.S. Senators, blah…blah.” He has it down, but I am also kind of shocked by how much he sounds like Drew Peterson. “I did not, and I say it again, I did not kill my wife.” How many times can you say the same thing, before you really start to believe it? It is a creepy little political mantra of lies. “I did not have sexual relations with Miss Lewinsky.” Oops, and I actually like Clinton.
My only problem with this medial blitz (not my words) is how worthless the media has become. Not the Junior Senator’s wife and I were talking about the old reporters this morning. And once we remembered all their names (John Chancellor forgive me) it occurred to us how awful the current reporters really are. Chancellor was in Vietnam, Brinkley went after stories, even Geraldo used to be somewhat credible, but left that credibility in Capone’s vault. Ask the real questions, like “are you a big, fat liar?” or “Are you having an affair in Springfield?” or “How much do you think your children will be scarred by all this?” The current batch of reporters….suck!
I mean honestly, does he think he is doing something good here?
Rod, (if I can call you that) please listen to me. Take your ball, leave the playground, and go home. It’s over, and you lost. You are killing me, this State, your kids, everyone involved. Just Quit. I don’t want to hear Patti begging President Obama for a pardon in eight years. Or Senator Durbin…(hey, he did it for Governor Ryan).
“Don’t go away mad, just go away.”
An old sermon, updated, and I hope, timely
Are you ready for some football? It’s Super Bowl time, which means food I should not be eating, really cool commercials I really never see again, the Steelers probably winning (this time without the awful referees of a few years ago), and Kurt Warner at least being in another Super Bowl. And this year, I am watching because I don’t want to see The Tubbs, a Southern gospel group at the church.
I’ve had to become somewhat of a fan. My wife loves football, and she likes the Pittsburgh Steelers. Me, I liked the Dallas Cowboys years ago when Tom Landry was the coach, when they were known as God’s team. Now they seem to spend weekends doing community service, or are out on parole. I am just glad they let Pac Man Jones go, because he sucks. So I keep the official hats, but I don’t really pay attention to what they are doing. Unless they do something bad, then Kim keeps me informed.
As of now I am less of a fan of organized sports. I used to have a saying posted on the wall of my office in a former church: “Organized religion will be the death of the church”. I have re-thought that saying to “organized sports will be the death of fun, the destruction of all that is good about being a kid.” On a Monday night a few years ago we went to watch my nephew in a junior varsity football game, Taylorville versus Lincoln. Being a 40-plus year former citizen of Taylorville I found it hard to sit on the Lincoln side, but I wanted to support my family, so there I was, entrenched firmly in enemy territory. And it was a train wreck...not on the field, but up in the stands. Andrew, Kim, and I were sitting in front of Kim’s sister, niece, and other members of the family. People were yelling at the coach to put in their special child, to take out the freshmen, to take out the sophomores, to stop trying to pass, to run the ball, to call time out, to stop embarrassing their child, and suddenly…the yelling of the fans started to cease being directed at the coach and became directed at each other. There was a verbal scrimmage in the bleachers, people were actually getting mad at one another, throwing lippy jabs, cursing each other, and the venom was flying. I cautiously moved down to the front, prepared to make a quick exit. I took Andrew along with me, leaving Kim to deal with her crazy hometown people.
I watched my nephew limp from the field after the game was over, his team defeated and his chance of getting a dog shattered. His dad had told him that if the team beat Taylorville by 40 points that he could get a dog.
They were soundly defeated and so was my nephew. I didn’t even get to speak to him; he went to the bus, not wanting to talk to anyone. After a previous game we received an e-mail that told us how everyone, including my then 16-year old nephew, had cussed out the coach at the previous game, because the coach was doing a terrible job. And after it was all over, as we sat in our living room in Taylorville for one of the last times I immediately started thinking: can you imagine having that much fight for what we believe in? And can you imagine wagering with God, telling Him you will commit to Him more if you get something in return? And finally, can you imagine walking away in defeat, because what you wanted was within your grasp, and because of a miserable team effort, you lost your heart’s desire?
I watched the movie “Fly Away Home” for the first time a few years ago. I knew about it, I actually had it written in my Bible with the idea that someday I would use the point of the movie as sermon material. But I never really watched the movie. It is the story of a little girl and the father she barely knows. After the death of her mother, she moves to Canada with her father, an eccentric artist who likes to be by himself. The little girl becomes the mother to a gaggle of Canadian geese overwhelmed by land developers, and through a series of events, leads the geese south for their annual migration.
I was impressed the first time I heard about this story because of the girl’s commitment to these geese. After watching the movie, I became more impressed by the way her and her father get to know one another. You see, she is not the only one who becomes committed to something. Her father becomes committed to getting to know her, and developing a relationship with her through the geese. At one point, the father is flying in his ultra light; he has this great joy that he is not sharing with anyone, especially this little girl that he does not know. But as the story progresses, he shares this joy with her. And it shows in their relationship, as both begin to grow. They decide to fight for what they believe in. It’s not about the geese, it’s about each other. He wants her to be happy, and she wants the geese to be free. But she is also fighting for a relationship with her father, and that is the real story. She believes in the geese, but she has to learn to believe in her father.
Mark 1:40 tells us of the leper who comes before Jesus. I picked this verse as a memory verse in my Wednesday night class and it has become a favorite and meaningful verse that I apply directly to my life. It is about sacrifice, it is about pain, it is about doing something because it is the right thing to do. The leper does not stand and wait for Jesus to walk past him; he drops to his knees in front of the Savior. He is in such pain, the pain of
leprosy, brittle bones, skin sores, wounds that do not heal, and yet he makes a sacrifice and drops to his knees. This verse is about commitment, it is
about sacrifice, and it is about trust. This man, this unclean man, who has not felt the loving touch of another in years, knows what he has heard, that this man called Jesus is healing people. And he is willing to fight for what he believes can and will happen. At the moment he makes the decision to drop to his knees he believes. Because if had not believed, he would have died in that spot, because no one would have helped him to his feet. Do you get that…he was gross, deformed, smelly, diseased, disgusting, unworthy, icky, and he still had the faith to believe that someone loved him. He had the fight to believe that there was someone out there that cared. And in that moment, it was not about Jesus healing him, it was about touch. I am committed so much that I am willing to drop on my sore, pain filled, scarred knees because I believe in you like I have never believed in anything, or anyone else. I am willing to fight for you, live for you, die for you. What would you have me to do? Just touch me, and I will be clean. Touch. What an incredible sense. But am I willing to fight?
And as far as wagering with God…
A few years ago there was a battle going on at the Pana Nazarene Church. Some of us encountered it first hand. For me, it came the Tuesday morning after a revival started. The devil started on me first thing that Tuesday morning, and when he was done with me, he went after one of our teens, Brandon. And then he moved on to others. It was a scary time, but the Lord won out. I have believed in the power of the devil for a long time, but that is a story for another time. Suffice it to say, he has no power but what we give him, no opening but what we allow, and simple prayer will do more damage than the smack of a thousand baseball bats to the side of his head. Even though that would be totally cool. When I am weak, God makes me strong, and the devil cannot win out.
And why did this happen? Because we all wagered with God. What would you have us do, so we can see blessings at a revival? In order to make a move to Pana, we had to sell our house first, or really, you have to sell it for us, GOD!!! If you want a bigger church, then you have to provide the money, GOD!!! Do you want us to go to Vandalia, then find us a really cheap building; we’ll be here safe and warm in Pana until you do. Are we supposed to talk to drug addicts, whores, and the unclean? Make it worth our efforts; bring in a rich drug addict that will tithe. Or a reformed whore that can teach a Sunday school class. Clean the unclean so we can tolerate them, please. Make them smell good, make them rich, and make them smart.
When we make bets we lose out. I call Christian wagering the “if onlys”. If only You would do this, then I would do this in return. Do you remember the saying, “No deposit, no return?” It is the way we treat God everyday. If He does not do something for us, then He is not getting anything
back. If He wants my best, then He needs to fork out a little of His best. That is not the way it works. Acts 5: 1-10 tells us about two people who wagered against God and the outcome. Ananias and Sapphira were given the simple task of being honest, and they blew it.
If Ananias and Sapphira thought they could wager with God they were sorely mistaken. God knows the heart, and he does not play games. Yell all you want to from the bleachers, complain to the coach, go to the school board, write letters to the editor, but it takes a true believer, a real lover of the game, to get up, go out, and play in the game. Or coach, participate, encourage. I saw that recently with a father who just held his daughter after a basketball game that did not go the way her team would have liked. He did not go to the coach, or complain, he just held her.
The time for wagering is over, or we all lose. It’s time to get in the game and to stop sitting on the sidelines.
But what if the team has let us down. A young man goes to his first day in a college chemistry class. The teacher, a smart alecky old man with everything to prove, asks how many Christians are in attendance. The young man, along with two or three others, gingerly raise their hands. The teacher proceeds to challenge the four believers. “I give you until the end of the semester to pray about this: I am going to drop a beaker onto the floor on the last day of class. If your god exists and answers your prayers, then the beaker will not break.”
The four students gather together after class. They agree to pray hard, assuring that the beaker will hold steady. Every night one young man prays for God to stop the beaker from breaking, he spends his free time in a chapel near the school, earnestly looking for an answer. He walks through the woods, talking to God, knowing this is a test, but more so, it is an opportunity. And then the last day of class arrives.
The professor walks to the front of the class. He looks at the four students, and announces “Let us see what your God can do.” He drops the beaker, which proceeds to hit his foot and roll across the floor, unbroken.
Afterwards the four students gather to celebrate what God has done. The three students look at the fourth and admit that they did not pray, that their class schedule, work schedule, times with their girl and boy friends, television, sports, pizza, goofing off, tests, pop quizzes, and laundry kept them from praying. The team has let him down. But one stood tall. He did not give up, and in the end, His God stood triumphant. And the team learned a valuable lesson. Where one (or two) is (are) gathered in his name…
“We’re gonna shout, shout, until the walls come down. Shout loud until the walls come down. Because we’ve already won, and you don’t have a chance, we have already won. Shout loud, shout loud, until the walls come down. Loud until the walls come down. Until the final bell. Until the final shout. We’ve already won, and you don’t have a chance. Because we’ve already won, and you don’t have a chance. We have already won.”
It is said that the Christian army is the only army that shoots its own people. The military have a term for that, its called friendly fire. And we
need to stop. Because we have already won. We are going to be let down by our team, but our coach, He stands at the sidelines, ever cheering, ever leading, ever calling out new plays, new strategy, new defensive moves, shouting out “We’re gonna shout, shout, until the walls come down. Shout loud until the walls come down. Because we’ve already won, and you don’t have a chance, we have already won. Shout loud, shout loud, until the walls come down. Loud until the walls come down. Until the final bell. Until the final shout. We’ve already won, and you don’t have a chance. Because we’ve already won, and you don’t have a chance. We have already won.”
He is not dead, he lives. The cross is empty, our team is running off the field with their heads held high, and it is because their Victory is assured. The game is over, and no one loses if we play and mean it. I am so incredibly ready for some football. My sister in law, God love her, said something very profound that day at the football game. She said that the reason Taylorville won the game was because they train all year, they condition harder than other schools, and it was not fair. I looked at her, and said, “Yeah, I would much rather be on a team that does nothing to deserve a win, than a team that works to win”. This is the way we should all feel today. I want to be on the team that works at winning. Until the walls come down. Until the final seconds of the fourth quarter. I want to win, because it not just about the game, it is about winning. Do you want to win? Do you want to shout until the final shout? Or do you want to blame someone else when we lose?
As ever...I am not the junior senator.
Oh, and by the way, stop watching the Gov on the talk shows. He is a liar, and will soon be out of office. There is no win-win here, it is all lose-lose.
I’ve had to become somewhat of a fan. My wife loves football, and she likes the Pittsburgh Steelers. Me, I liked the Dallas Cowboys years ago when Tom Landry was the coach, when they were known as God’s team. Now they seem to spend weekends doing community service, or are out on parole. I am just glad they let Pac Man Jones go, because he sucks. So I keep the official hats, but I don’t really pay attention to what they are doing. Unless they do something bad, then Kim keeps me informed.
As of now I am less of a fan of organized sports. I used to have a saying posted on the wall of my office in a former church: “Organized religion will be the death of the church”. I have re-thought that saying to “organized sports will be the death of fun, the destruction of all that is good about being a kid.” On a Monday night a few years ago we went to watch my nephew in a junior varsity football game, Taylorville versus Lincoln. Being a 40-plus year former citizen of Taylorville I found it hard to sit on the Lincoln side, but I wanted to support my family, so there I was, entrenched firmly in enemy territory. And it was a train wreck...not on the field, but up in the stands. Andrew, Kim, and I were sitting in front of Kim’s sister, niece, and other members of the family. People were yelling at the coach to put in their special child, to take out the freshmen, to take out the sophomores, to stop trying to pass, to run the ball, to call time out, to stop embarrassing their child, and suddenly…the yelling of the fans started to cease being directed at the coach and became directed at each other. There was a verbal scrimmage in the bleachers, people were actually getting mad at one another, throwing lippy jabs, cursing each other, and the venom was flying. I cautiously moved down to the front, prepared to make a quick exit. I took Andrew along with me, leaving Kim to deal with her crazy hometown people.
I watched my nephew limp from the field after the game was over, his team defeated and his chance of getting a dog shattered. His dad had told him that if the team beat Taylorville by 40 points that he could get a dog.
They were soundly defeated and so was my nephew. I didn’t even get to speak to him; he went to the bus, not wanting to talk to anyone. After a previous game we received an e-mail that told us how everyone, including my then 16-year old nephew, had cussed out the coach at the previous game, because the coach was doing a terrible job. And after it was all over, as we sat in our living room in Taylorville for one of the last times I immediately started thinking: can you imagine having that much fight for what we believe in? And can you imagine wagering with God, telling Him you will commit to Him more if you get something in return? And finally, can you imagine walking away in defeat, because what you wanted was within your grasp, and because of a miserable team effort, you lost your heart’s desire?
I watched the movie “Fly Away Home” for the first time a few years ago. I knew about it, I actually had it written in my Bible with the idea that someday I would use the point of the movie as sermon material. But I never really watched the movie. It is the story of a little girl and the father she barely knows. After the death of her mother, she moves to Canada with her father, an eccentric artist who likes to be by himself. The little girl becomes the mother to a gaggle of Canadian geese overwhelmed by land developers, and through a series of events, leads the geese south for their annual migration.
I was impressed the first time I heard about this story because of the girl’s commitment to these geese. After watching the movie, I became more impressed by the way her and her father get to know one another. You see, she is not the only one who becomes committed to something. Her father becomes committed to getting to know her, and developing a relationship with her through the geese. At one point, the father is flying in his ultra light; he has this great joy that he is not sharing with anyone, especially this little girl that he does not know. But as the story progresses, he shares this joy with her. And it shows in their relationship, as both begin to grow. They decide to fight for what they believe in. It’s not about the geese, it’s about each other. He wants her to be happy, and she wants the geese to be free. But she is also fighting for a relationship with her father, and that is the real story. She believes in the geese, but she has to learn to believe in her father.
Mark 1:40 tells us of the leper who comes before Jesus. I picked this verse as a memory verse in my Wednesday night class and it has become a favorite and meaningful verse that I apply directly to my life. It is about sacrifice, it is about pain, it is about doing something because it is the right thing to do. The leper does not stand and wait for Jesus to walk past him; he drops to his knees in front of the Savior. He is in such pain, the pain of
leprosy, brittle bones, skin sores, wounds that do not heal, and yet he makes a sacrifice and drops to his knees. This verse is about commitment, it is
about sacrifice, and it is about trust. This man, this unclean man, who has not felt the loving touch of another in years, knows what he has heard, that this man called Jesus is healing people. And he is willing to fight for what he believes can and will happen. At the moment he makes the decision to drop to his knees he believes. Because if had not believed, he would have died in that spot, because no one would have helped him to his feet. Do you get that…he was gross, deformed, smelly, diseased, disgusting, unworthy, icky, and he still had the faith to believe that someone loved him. He had the fight to believe that there was someone out there that cared. And in that moment, it was not about Jesus healing him, it was about touch. I am committed so much that I am willing to drop on my sore, pain filled, scarred knees because I believe in you like I have never believed in anything, or anyone else. I am willing to fight for you, live for you, die for you. What would you have me to do? Just touch me, and I will be clean. Touch. What an incredible sense. But am I willing to fight?
And as far as wagering with God…
A few years ago there was a battle going on at the Pana Nazarene Church. Some of us encountered it first hand. For me, it came the Tuesday morning after a revival started. The devil started on me first thing that Tuesday morning, and when he was done with me, he went after one of our teens, Brandon. And then he moved on to others. It was a scary time, but the Lord won out. I have believed in the power of the devil for a long time, but that is a story for another time. Suffice it to say, he has no power but what we give him, no opening but what we allow, and simple prayer will do more damage than the smack of a thousand baseball bats to the side of his head. Even though that would be totally cool. When I am weak, God makes me strong, and the devil cannot win out.
And why did this happen? Because we all wagered with God. What would you have us do, so we can see blessings at a revival? In order to make a move to Pana, we had to sell our house first, or really, you have to sell it for us, GOD!!! If you want a bigger church, then you have to provide the money, GOD!!! Do you want us to go to Vandalia, then find us a really cheap building; we’ll be here safe and warm in Pana until you do. Are we supposed to talk to drug addicts, whores, and the unclean? Make it worth our efforts; bring in a rich drug addict that will tithe. Or a reformed whore that can teach a Sunday school class. Clean the unclean so we can tolerate them, please. Make them smell good, make them rich, and make them smart.
When we make bets we lose out. I call Christian wagering the “if onlys”. If only You would do this, then I would do this in return. Do you remember the saying, “No deposit, no return?” It is the way we treat God everyday. If He does not do something for us, then He is not getting anything
back. If He wants my best, then He needs to fork out a little of His best. That is not the way it works. Acts 5: 1-10 tells us about two people who wagered against God and the outcome. Ananias and Sapphira were given the simple task of being honest, and they blew it.
If Ananias and Sapphira thought they could wager with God they were sorely mistaken. God knows the heart, and he does not play games. Yell all you want to from the bleachers, complain to the coach, go to the school board, write letters to the editor, but it takes a true believer, a real lover of the game, to get up, go out, and play in the game. Or coach, participate, encourage. I saw that recently with a father who just held his daughter after a basketball game that did not go the way her team would have liked. He did not go to the coach, or complain, he just held her.
The time for wagering is over, or we all lose. It’s time to get in the game and to stop sitting on the sidelines.
But what if the team has let us down. A young man goes to his first day in a college chemistry class. The teacher, a smart alecky old man with everything to prove, asks how many Christians are in attendance. The young man, along with two or three others, gingerly raise their hands. The teacher proceeds to challenge the four believers. “I give you until the end of the semester to pray about this: I am going to drop a beaker onto the floor on the last day of class. If your god exists and answers your prayers, then the beaker will not break.”
The four students gather together after class. They agree to pray hard, assuring that the beaker will hold steady. Every night one young man prays for God to stop the beaker from breaking, he spends his free time in a chapel near the school, earnestly looking for an answer. He walks through the woods, talking to God, knowing this is a test, but more so, it is an opportunity. And then the last day of class arrives.
The professor walks to the front of the class. He looks at the four students, and announces “Let us see what your God can do.” He drops the beaker, which proceeds to hit his foot and roll across the floor, unbroken.
Afterwards the four students gather to celebrate what God has done. The three students look at the fourth and admit that they did not pray, that their class schedule, work schedule, times with their girl and boy friends, television, sports, pizza, goofing off, tests, pop quizzes, and laundry kept them from praying. The team has let him down. But one stood tall. He did not give up, and in the end, His God stood triumphant. And the team learned a valuable lesson. Where one (or two) is (are) gathered in his name…
“We’re gonna shout, shout, until the walls come down. Shout loud until the walls come down. Because we’ve already won, and you don’t have a chance, we have already won. Shout loud, shout loud, until the walls come down. Loud until the walls come down. Until the final bell. Until the final shout. We’ve already won, and you don’t have a chance. Because we’ve already won, and you don’t have a chance. We have already won.”
It is said that the Christian army is the only army that shoots its own people. The military have a term for that, its called friendly fire. And we
need to stop. Because we have already won. We are going to be let down by our team, but our coach, He stands at the sidelines, ever cheering, ever leading, ever calling out new plays, new strategy, new defensive moves, shouting out “We’re gonna shout, shout, until the walls come down. Shout loud until the walls come down. Because we’ve already won, and you don’t have a chance, we have already won. Shout loud, shout loud, until the walls come down. Loud until the walls come down. Until the final bell. Until the final shout. We’ve already won, and you don’t have a chance. Because we’ve already won, and you don’t have a chance. We have already won.”
He is not dead, he lives. The cross is empty, our team is running off the field with their heads held high, and it is because their Victory is assured. The game is over, and no one loses if we play and mean it. I am so incredibly ready for some football. My sister in law, God love her, said something very profound that day at the football game. She said that the reason Taylorville won the game was because they train all year, they condition harder than other schools, and it was not fair. I looked at her, and said, “Yeah, I would much rather be on a team that does nothing to deserve a win, than a team that works to win”. This is the way we should all feel today. I want to be on the team that works at winning. Until the walls come down. Until the final seconds of the fourth quarter. I want to win, because it not just about the game, it is about winning. Do you want to win? Do you want to shout until the final shout? Or do you want to blame someone else when we lose?
As ever...I am not the junior senator.
Oh, and by the way, stop watching the Gov on the talk shows. He is a liar, and will soon be out of office. There is no win-win here, it is all lose-lose.
Monday, January 26, 2009
Our Governor is So Funny
I have been too busy today to write. Governor Beautiful Hair is on every television station, getting kissed by some, brutalized by a few.
So I will write tomorrow.
Thanks to my second follower.
Just dont drink the Kool-Aid.
So I will write tomorrow.
Thanks to my second follower.
Just dont drink the Kool-Aid.
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