We Can Live Honestly, Because We Are Loved

This video is really interesting. There's a lot of truth here, about how we limit ourselves by the lies we believe, about how we live in fear of what other's will think. Kyle's biggest point though, to me, is how we so often can't accept the love of others, we can't believe they really mean it, because we don't love ourselves.

"How could they really love me? I'm not worthy" we tell ourselves.

"They're just saying that to be nice. If they only really knew what I was like, what I have done, then they wouldn't love me."

But for for those who have been saved by Christ's blood, we can love who we are because Christ loves who we are. If the God of the universe, Who knows EVERY single thing we've done, even the things we ourselves have long forgotten, loves us, who are we to differ with Him and distain the very thing He loves?

Some might take this as license to live life according to their own flesh, but it's precisely because our Father loves us that we can be okay with where we are, with who we are, yet also desire to become more like our lover, more like Christ.

That's the key that makes Kyle's message resonate, at least for me. I am lovable because I am loved, and I can live passionately, honestly, vulnerably, because no matter what other's think of me, I know what my Savior thinks of me.

He loves me.

And that is enough.

Paul

Don't Despise the Lost, We All Have Rotten Meatloaf in Our Refrigerators

I used to always kind of chuckle when I read an article about a guy who did some crazy thing, hiking the pacific crest trail, driving across the country, or even going vegan, in a quest to ‘find himself.’

“Seriously?” I’d think in a scoffing tone of think. “Pull up your diaper and get a job. Stop being selfish and thinking about yourself and do something."

Only recently have I have ben realizing that my dismissal of those ‘self discovery’ quests, my disdain for, and even sense of superiority to, people looking for themselves comes from a deeper place than a simple sense of productivity or efficiency. The reason I didn’t like them, was very simple, and unnervingly close to home.

I realized, I am that guy.

And I don’t like him.

Not knowing who I truly am is a feeling that I’d stuffed deep down, tried to not think about, ignored. Ever opened your fridge and seen that tupperware container of last weeks dinner (ok, admit it, it’s actually from last month’s dinner), growing various unnatural colors and textures, probably smelling up a storm inside it’s little plastic coffin, just waiting to offend the smelling sensibilities of anyone foolish enough to open it? What did you do with that little container of overripe meatloaf? Yeah, pushed it into the back of the fridge, maybe hid it behind the bag of carrots. Pushed it away, to be dealt with later, hopefully by someone else, when you’re not home.

That’s what I did. I pushed my smelly little container of my rotten identity, or rather, an uncertain identity, into the corner behind a container of ego or false humility or something and tried not to think about it. But it was there, and though it’s hardy tin of polycarbonate did an admirable job of containing it’s festering contents, some would always seep out, reminding me of it’s presence, affecting my life. I couldn’t ignore it, but I also couldn’t deal with it. I didn’t know how. I wasn't brave enough to face it, so I pretended that it wasn’t there, and mocked those who were brave enough to admit that it was.

“Besides,” my subconscious must have reasoned, “Look at the rest of the stuff you got, it’s all pretty good, not even close to it’s expiration date, don’t worry ‘bout it.”

*   *   *

In each of us there is a longing to be loved, but to be truly loved, you must be truly known, deeply known. And the deeper someone get’s, the more likely it is that they’ll find something they won’t like. So we close up, close off. They can’t hurt us if they don’t know how bad we can be. I mean, can you imagine what they’d think if they found that tin nestled neatly behind the eggnog? Can’t let that happen.

And yet, the desire is there, for someone to know you all the way, to know all those nasty thing’s you don’t know what to do with in your fridge that is life. But there’s a risk in letting them in, a risk that as they go deeper in, they’ll get weirded out by all the gunk, or maybe just not be able to handle the stench, and they’ll pull out. But after you’ve let someone in, there’s no going back, because now they know, and they know too much. But what if they get in, and they don’t look at what you think is garbage with disdain? What if they see it, and feel empathy, compassion, and love? What if, in seeing that you’re not perfect, they’re opened up to reveal that they’re not perfect either?

We’re all broken, walking this broken way, which conveniently enough, is the title of a book I’m reading right now.

Those people we meet in this life who are brave enough to be broken with us are like gems: rare, beautiful. God may only bring a handful of them into our lives this side of heaven, but oh how sweet is the fellowship of those who are raw, who are broken, and who love the broken. Yet as amazing as those friends are, there is One who actually knows the extent of our brokenness, and loves us more than any other human ever could.

*   *   *

So while the old me might have mocked the idea of going on a quest to ‘find yourself,’ new more recent me gets to dismount his high-horse, apologize to all the identity seekers out there (Sorry!), and join them on their quest, our quest, to discover who we truly are, and are truly meant to be.

No Matter Who's Elected, Christ is Still King

Today was a very productive, restful day. I worked on my business, read some out of Delighting in the Trinity (which, btw, is a book you should read), visited with my host family, filled out my voting ballot, ate dinner, listened to music and a few podcasts, etc.

'Ok Paul, we're all thrilled that you had a great day. But this isn't Instagram, go post photos of your food elsewhere' I can hear you saying. Or maybe you're not. But either way, I do indeed have a grander purpose in telling you all of this.

I'm not pleased with the two front-runners, not one bit, and the funny thing is, I don't think 80% of America really is either. And while I won't be voting for either of them, I think it's a safe assumption to say that we'll either have a power-hungry criminal or a power-hungry business man as our next commander in chief. But that said, Christ reigns. Right here, right now. He's not 'going' to be in charge one day, He won't take control of the planet sometime in the future, He's exercising his authority right now. Even over who is elected president of the US on November 8th.

And it's because Christ is at the right hand of God that I can go about my day today and not fret about tomorrow (Matt 6:34). Does this mean that tomorrow will necessarily be more comfortable than today? Absolutely not. We may experience persecution like America hasn't ever seen, we might see religious liberty curtailed and marginalized. We might see the rounding up of our weapons, abolishment of the 1st and 2nd amendments, it might turn into hell on earth. But we need not fear.

Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not advocating inaction or passivity We've been given the responsibility to not just vote, but to speak out, to get involved, to influence. We cannot abandon those duties, those privileges, to the hyper-calvinistic fatalism of 'well God's in control, so what can I do?' God is sovereign, but we are responsible to act.

The true King is still on his throne. I love Psalm 37, the whole chapter's so good, but the heart of it is Psalm 37:4-12. I know it's a long section, but I entreat you to read it and let it's truth sink in:

"Trust in the Lord, and do good;
 dwell in the land and befriend faithfulness.
 Delight yourself in the Lord,
and he will give you the desires of your heart.
 Commit your way to the Lord;
 trust in him, and he will act.
 He will bring forth your righteousness as the light,
and your justice as the noonday.
 Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for him;
 fret not yourself over the one who prospers in his way,
over the man who carries out evil devices!
 Refrain from anger, and forsake wrath!
 Fret not yourself; it tends only to evil.
 For the evildoers shall be cut off,
but those who wait for the Lord shall inherit the land.
 In just a little while, the wicked will be no more;
though you look carefully at his place, he will not be there.
 But the meek shall inherit the land
and delight themselves in abundant peace.
 The wicked plots against the righteous
and gnashes his teeth at him,
 but the Lord laughs at the wicked,
for he sees that his day is coming."

And if we need further reassurance that He is ruling now, Daniel 2:21 tells us "He changes times and seasons; he removes kings and sets up kings; he gives wisdom to the wise and knowledge to those who have understanding." 

Brothers, sisters, friends, whatever happens, whoever gains office, wherever the nation goes, I encourage you, trust God. Love God. Know that He loves us, and has our best in mind. "There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear." (1 John 4:18). For those of you who know me well (you know who you are. :) ), you'll know that I'm preaching to myself here more than anything. I have fretted, I have feared, I have wrung my hands over the direction our country is taking (and a million other things). But I've been encouraged as of late by fellowship with my brothers and sisters in Christ, and by reading the Word, meditating on the truth that though we walk through the valley of the shadow of death, we need fear no evil.

I'll leave you with this one thought, an excerpt from R.C. Sproul's Podcast, Jesus Changes Everything, because he said it better than I ever could.

"And so my hope and my prayer is that as you go to bed tonight and await the election results tomorrow, that you will never lose sight of the fact that Jesus Christ reigns. That Jesus Christ has given us the leader that He’s chosen for us for His glory and the good of His people. We may be chastened, we may be persecuted, we may be driven into the coliseums like our fathers before us, for sport. I don’t know what the future holds. What I do know is that Jesus holds the future."

Corporation's are Like Children.... Maybe

Reading an article about the recently released movie Ex Machina got me thinking, and this is what I thought.

So, there's these things out there, corporations, and they're kind of like children, only really, really big. They do all sorts of interesting things, invent cars that don't use gasoline, computers that fit in your pocket, and pull liquid energy from nearly 10,000 feet below the sea. But they're also foolish, and don't know what's best for them or the economy. There also aren't any mechanisms or systems to keep them in check like competition, economics, or voluntary certification boards (what a silly idea). The only thing that can keep these big, stupid corpo-children from destroying themselves and all of humanity (and possibly the last vinyl record ever signed by John Lennon), is the corporation's big brother, your best friend, and the savior of mankind (which they do lovingly, for a small fee): The government! That's right! Though corporations are basically like children, the government is completely comprised of angels and their harmless toy poodles! They'll make sure nothing bad ever happens! yay!

But in all seriousness, I do find it interesting that this article in the NY Times (and the movie, which I've not seen) presents as the solution to the potential risk of AI's to be government regulation. I probably tend to lean too far to the libertarian side of things, and government does does have a role in society, but without a doubt it's too large, and seems to be the magic tonic that will solve all of our problems if only we will entrust them with a little more power.

The Fleeting Time

Is it just me, or does life seem to be passing by more quickly as I get older? I mean, wasn't it Friday just yesterday? And I thought Christmas was last weekend... It wasn't too long ago that I remember thinking that it was going to take forever to grow up. Everything in the future seemed so far away, so distant, almost an eternity away.

But now, 60 years old almost seems eminent. Holiday's used to take forever to come, now it seems as though I have to keep my eyes propped open lest I blink and miss them.

This all reminded me of Psalm 39:4 (and I had to looks this up, I can't claim to have had this memorized)

“O LORD, make me know my end and what is the measure of my days; let me know how fleeting I am!"

We're only on this earth for a short time before moving on to our eternal home. So use the time that our Father has given you.

“So teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom.”

Psalms 190:12

God Speed,
Paul

Are You a Good Steward?

The other day I was struck by what now seems a profound thought (though only time will tell I suppose). My room had fallen into a slight case of disarray, some clothes on the floor, my desk was... less than tidy, and it was generally looking like a mini version of a bachelor pad. My dad came in one day and said something along the lines of "for just being two guys in this room (I bunk with my awesome younger, albeit taller, brother), you sure can make a mess!"

At the time I took this as a sideways chid for letting our room get so messy (which was true), but I was also a rebuke for not being faithful in what I had been given. I was reminded of the parable that was taught in Luke, which (using some quick searching) I found in Luke 16, wherein this well-known passage resides:

“One who is faithful in a very little is also faithful in much, [. . .] And if you have not been faithful in that which is another's, who will give you that which is your own?"
Luke 16:10, 12

 I wasn't being faithful in what the Lord had given me through my dad. On this earth I have about 150 square feet that I'm in charge of, and I wasn't treating it with respect. To a degree, I had been viewing it as 'my room' and since I apparently didn't mind 'my room' getting a little messy, it was ok. But it isn't 'my room' it's my Father's room (both earthy and heavenly). I am simply it's steward, and a poor one at that.

When the time comes for me to move out (probably when I get married), Do I want my father to say "finally, now we'll be able to keep that room of yours clean!" Or do I want to hear him joyfully echo the master in another one of Jesus' parables:

‘Well done, good and faithful servant. You have been faithful over a little; I will set you over much
Matt 25:21

 Everything we own on this earth isn't truly ours. As the Psalmist has said:

The earth is the Lord's and the fullness thereof,
the world and those who dwell therein.
Ps 24:1

 It's all His property, we are merely His stewards. Let us all use the blessings that He has given us for His glory.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to get off my paltry soap box and get back to vacuuming.

Unrelated, and Yet, Related

I was journaling about a conversation that I had with a dear friend of mine today, and as I typed out something that she said it suddenly hit me like it was new to me.

"Our father"

My friend and I aren't related in any way, and yet, we are. She's my sister, I'm her brother. We have the same Father in heaven, He's adopted both of us into His family for all eternity. We christians have such a deep, familial connection with each other here on earth that I think is very rarely ever really realized. At least, I know I have seldom ever really thought of it, much less comprehended the significance of it. Just the thought of it is bewildering to me. God isn't only a Father to the fatherless, he has also given the fatherless a family to surround them, guide them, correct them, and encourage them.

So then you are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are fellow citizens with the saints and members of the household of God, ~Ephesians 2:19

Reflections From the Past

Most people who know me will have at one point or another discovered that I am a journal keeper.

Now, let us get a couple of pesky definitions out of the way. Technically I suppose I actually keep a diary, because it's a "my-eyes-only" (save the rare occasion that I share an entry), deeply reflective and introspective account of my thoughts during the day, conversations I had, and things that I read. The word diary has such a feminine connotation to it that I have decided, in keeping with the title of this blog and despite the fact that it is technically more accurate, that I will allow the ladies to claim this word as their own, and I shall stick to journaling.

Anyway, I have pondered from time to time just why I keep this record of my life. I didn't used to always be like this you know. I have tried to keep a journal a number of times, but each time my efforts proved futile, and each time I eventually simply stopped writing. But in 2013 I started writing again, usually about once a week and kept at it. Maybe because my life was more interesting, and I had more to write about. Either way, at the turn of the new year I decided to try journaling every day for a month. I enjoyed that so much (and actually found things to write about each day) that I've continued doing so, rarely missing a day (and if I do, I always go back and attempt to reconstruct it.)

But my why is something that I think about, particularly since I so often cringe when going over my old entries. Why do I do this thing which it seems has only one purpose: to enshrine in history how immature I used to be. And far greater is my consternation when I think of others examining my innermost thoughts at some later date! But now, friend and reader, if you've stuck with me in my meandering thoughts for this long, I've finally arrived at the inspiration for this little journey of self reflection. It was a quote I discovered on my equally meandrous ventures on the internet about journaling.

“We are well advised to keep on nodding terms with the people we used to be, whether we find them attractive company or not.” ~Joan Didion 

I know that for most of us (or perhaps I'm the only one, but I think not) looking back on who we used to be, "whether we find them attractive company or not," usually results in feelings of embarrassment that we once were the way we were. But I think this embarrassment is the wrong attitude to have towards our past. Who we once were should be a constant reminder of all that the Holy Spirit has wrought in our lives.

Looking back on our past, regardless of how vile, repulsive, or objectionable it is, should drive us ever further into our Father's arms, and cause an ever greater gratitude to well up inside us  for the saving work of Christ. So in this sense, my journal really serves as a record of the Holy Spirit's redeeming work in me. A log book of how I've changed over the years through His grace. It's also a mortifying reminder of who I once was, indeed would still be, were it not for the work of my Savior on the Cross. Praise God for His kindness and grace towards a sinner like me!

~Paul

P.S. I know I didn't really get to my why, just my what. So maybe I'll go more in depth on my why at a later date. We'll see.

A Son of God, How Can it Be?

I just finished the chapter titled Sons of God, in J.I. Packers phenomenal book Knowing God, and it has opened my eyes to the reality of what it means to be a Christian more than any other singular book (the bible aside) that I have ever read. We've all heard the word 'adoption' before, and we've all read about how God is our heavenly Father, but these terms have always seemed (though I didn't realize it before) etherial to me.

But now, though I still feel that my eyes are almost completely shut, I feel as though I have caught a glimpse into just what it means to be a son of God. To be adopted into His family. To be reconciled to the Maker of all things by His own Son, and to now be counted a brother with Christ, heir to the inheritance of God. Just thinking about it make my head swirl, and my heart throb.

A Son of God. 

How is that even possible? We read about princes, and princesses, and knights, and royalty, and they all seem like such marvelous things... for other people. We even hear about people being adopted into royalty (more in the past then in the present though). Usually the adopted son or daughter is someone who is old enough to have proven that they are worthy of royalty. They have the character, discipline, intelligence, and insight to hold the position of familial relationship with those in power.

But our God, our King, the Creator of the universe, has adopted us into His family to be His sons and daughters, not because we were particularly mature, intelligent, or kind (quite the contrary) but simply because He loved us because of who He is. He didn't adopt us because we are lovable, He adopted us because He is loving. We have been made, by His free grace, sons and daughters of the one who is called the Most High, the King of Kings, and the Lord of Lords. But there's yet another title by which He has said we may address Him, one of kindness, tenderness, love, affection, guidance, and closeness And one by which I feel I am just now beginning to truly comprehend it's depth:

I call Him Father.

I Don't Have Time. (Really?)

"When I get home from work I don't have enough time to do the things that have to get done, " You say. 

 "I just don't have time to read books, " You lament.

"I'd love to read more books, but..."

But, but, but.

Excuses, that's what I hear Paul, excuses. Reasons why you can't, or wont, do the things that you say are important to you.

But my dear Paul, don't you have two (government mandated) 15 minute breaks at work? 

"Well yes..."

And what do you do on said breaks?

"Oh I do lots of things, I check my G+, FaceBook, The Blaze, get distracted, go on rabbit trails, etc."

So you have time to do all that, and yet you don't have time to read books?

"..."

This was my conscience convicting me this morning as I was trying to figure out how I could get more book reading into my daily life. None of us have as much time as we would like. But that's why we have to be purposeful in how we spend the time that we have been given. Google+ is great, as is FaceBook and the rest, but on my work breaks I'm going to prioritize reading good literature (and occasionally posting about it).


How about you? How will you capitalize on the spare moments between tasks? Will you fritter them away, or will you "redeem the time" (Eph 5:16) for the furtherance of Christ's Kingdom?

Are We Here for the Long Haul?

"Any theology that does not live with the sense of the immediate return of Christ is a theology that takes the edge off the urgency of faith. But any theology that does not cause us to live as though the world will be here for thousands of years is a theology that leads us into social irresponsibility."
        ~Tony Campolo in Four Views on the Book of Revelation

Wow wow wow! This is really accurate! I remember the feeling when I became unconvinced of dispensational premillennialism that I had time here to plan for the long term. The feeling that I don't have to rush for fear of being raptured or called away any minute was profoundly impactful. Mr. Campolo's last statement I think is especially true, "... any theology that does not cause us to live as though the world will be here for thousands of years is a theology that leads us into social irresponsibility." How many Christians have given up on this world because of the faulty notion that we're not going to be here very long, and therefore don't have to worry about the world at large, socially, politically, or morally? 

Here's the book on Goodreads, highly recommended:

Goodreads

And if you want to pick up a hard copy, here's the Amazon link:

Amazon

~Paul

Easier Does Not Equal Better

There are times when I wish things were as they used to be. Life as a child is significantly easier than as an adult, especially in one particular area.

Decisions.

As children, most decisions are made for us, what we eat for dinner, when to go to bed, how much sugar is enough, and the list goes on. But as we grow up, more and more of the decisional responsibility should be placed upon our shoulders.

I'm at one of those momentous points in my life. I have to make the decision as to where I'll work for the foreseeable future. I have two options on my plate, both have their pros and cons, both would be enjoyable, and both would pay the bills (though one would pay them with more left over). What factors do I consider? How do I decide which is a better use of the limited time that the Lord has entrusted to me?

In years gone by I would probably have run to dad and mom and asked them what I should do, and they, while likely leaving the final decision up to me, would have told me what they thought was the best option. Now that I'm a young adult though, I'm so very thankful that my parents have sought to help me stand on my own two feet, rather than let me rely on them to choose my path.

My parents have given me mountains of advice, suggested things to consider, and people to talk with, and encouraged me to pray and see the Lord as I make this weighty decision. But they have resisted the urge that I'm sure they feel to tell me what they think is the right decision, for which I am extremely grateful.

And it's hard sometimes. Having the answer handed to me on a silver platter would be easy, but it wouldn't be better. While I wouldn't be responsible if the decision were a bad one, but I also wouldn't grow and mature, nor experience the blessing of a wise decision. We have to make decisions every day of our lives, and my parents recognize that the only way we can learn to make decisions, is to make decisions.

Thanks Mom and Dad!

~Paul

A Shiny Sink

Sinks - We all have them.

Shiny, clean, spotless sinks - Most of us don't have them.

I just got home from work, and was greeted by a very clean kitchen. So when I was finished making my afternoon snack (carefully seasoned mashed potatoes), I almost threw the spatula into the sink. But then thought about all the work that someone in my family had done to get the sink to it's current sparkling condition. I felt ashamed that I, in my laziness, was about to toss a soiled utensil into it, marring it's pristine condition.

So I didn't. I grabbed the scrub brush, took literally less than 15 seconds to clean the spatula, and add it to the drying rack.

It's so much easier to keep a space clean once it's completely clean, because leaving the first item out is always the hardest. By not leaving my spent spatula in the sink, I helped keep the kitchen clean for that much longer. 

Hmmm, now perhaps I should clean my room, because it literally looks like a tornado went through it...

The Value of writing

A moment of terror flooded over me. I couldn't find them. I checked drawers, bags, all over my desktop, but they were nowhere to be found. But then I remembered that I had filed them all, safely next to my birthday cards from last year.

Phew.

That was a sigh of relief, I had found all of my birthday cards, and could commence writing my thank you notes, thanking each family who had taken an evening of their week to come celebrate with me the passage of yet another year that the Lord had granted to me. But being the distractible fellow that I often am, I sat at my desk and pondered the emotions of the last few minutes: concern, then panic, followed by hurried searching, and finally sweet relief as I found my treasures. All for some pieces of paper with only a few sentences penned on their smooth surfaces. But all were well spent emotions.

Long after the party is done, the money is spent, and the gifts are either lost, out grown (that one doesn't happen to me anymore) or worn out, I will still have the cards that people have given to me. Whether they were hastily written in the car on the way to the party - thoughts off the top of the author's head, or carefully formulated words of encouragement and wisdom written days in advance, I cherish them all. They show that those who penned them value their recipient enough to show their love and appreciation in old fashioned hand writing, long or short, in depth, profound, or a simple I love you.

Though they may not say we love you in so many words isn't that what birthday cards say? Words of Encouragement may not be my primary Love Language for showing love (and an area in which I need to grow), but it certainly is one that makes my heart rejoice. To know that others love me in ways that I know I don't deserve, it's almost too much joy to contain.

To all of you who have written to me, thank you. It means more to me than I can express.

Paul

Why I Don't (and Never Did) Believe Money Grows on Trees

We've all heard the saying, "Money doesn't grow on trees." This evening I was contemplating that phrase, and why someone, particularly a young someone, might believe that it does.

I know that no one (well, hopefully no one, but someone probably does) believes that money really does grow like shiny green leaves on a tree, it's the root of the matter that is the issue. Rephrased, the saying could say, "Money does not sprout from nothing."

But why might a child grow up with the idea that money comes from nothing? I would wager that it likely could be that he was given money for doing nothing.

Like a government handout, but from parents instead of Big Brother.

Because little Johnny didn't have to work for the money he received, wouldn't it would be counter intuitive for him to think that income is (normally) proceeded by work, and is therefore the product thereof? I tend to think so.

My brothers and I never received "government handouts" from our parents (which are often masked as allowances) growing up. Very early on my parents would find ways for us to earn money to finances our extraneous spending, like mowing, special cleaning, selling things, and yard work, and for that I will be eternally grateful.

Don't raise your kids to expect money that they didn't earn. It won't stop just because they grow up. There's a reason 47,000,000^[source] (that's million) Americans or on food stamps (i.e. government allowance).

Thanks Dad and Mom!!
~Paul

In the Multitude of Counselors There is Safety.

"The more you know, the more you know you don't know."
~Aristotle

An accusation that's often levied at people my age is that we think we know everything. And while that assertion is often well founded, the Lord has been gracious enough to give me a recognition of the fact that I know very, very little.


I know I don't know very much (in fact, I probably don't even know how much I know I don't know!), that's why I'm so thankful for verses like this:

Where no counsel is, the people fall: but in the multitude of counsellors there is safety
~Proverbs 11:14

There will always be those who are wiser than you are, seek them out, and never, ever stop asking them questions.

Blessed is the one who finds wisdom, and the one who gets understanding
Proverbs 3:13 

The Lord has graciously placed a few people in my life who are just mountains of wisdom, depths of knowledge and experience gleaned from years of living. But most of them won't offer their council unless I first ask them (or if they see a blind spot of mine, and then I'm most thankful that they will lovingly come alongside me to point me back in the way I should go).

Be that young man or woman that's known for their hunger for wisdom. Seek out those who are wiser than you, like your parents, and older couples in your church. You will never regret it.

Paul

God Will I Fear

In my morning reading today I was struck by three verses from Psalm 46. They perfectly express what I imperfectly attempted to express in What Do You Fear. Fear of the dark seems petty in light of not fearing "though the earth gives way." What a mighty Lord and Savior we serve!

     1 God is our refuge and strength,
a very present help in trouble.
     2 Therefore we will not fear though the earth gives way,
though the mountains be move into the heart of the sea,
     3 though its waters roar and foam,
through the mountains tremble at it's swelling.
   Selah. 

In Christ,

Paul

What Do You Fear

Last night I accompanied my youngest sister out to do the animals because it was well after sun down. She hasn't quite gotten over her fear of the dark, but she's doing way better than I was at her age! But as I helped her shoo the last of the chickens into their barn, I started thinking about fear.

Fear of the dark is something that it seems most people suffer from at some point in their life. But why? What's so scary about the dark? I would wager that it's not actually the dark that scares people, it's what could be in the dark that has some people (my former self included) jumping at every rustle or snap. Sophocles once said

"To him who is in fear, everything rustles."

It's really fear of the unknown. When we don't know what's out there, our minds can be uncannily  good at scaring the dickens out of us with the ridiculous, and more often than not, unreasonable scenarios that it can come up with.

But as a man whom I respect much more than him of the above quote has said,

"My religious belief teaches me that I’m just as safe on the battlefield as I am in my bed.  The Lord has already appointed the day of my death so I need not worry about that." ~Stonewall Jackson

Fear of anything shows a lack of trust in God. If I'm afraid of what could be out there just because I can't see it, that is evidence that I lack trust in my Savior. If I truly love Him, and trust His plans
and timing, then I should be one of the most fearless people alive!

"There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear. For fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not been perfected in love" ~1 John 4:18"

Abrogation of Personal Privacy, and How to Fly Safely

“They who can give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety deserve neither liberty nor safety.” 

These timeless words spoken by Ben Franklin went through my mind as I stared into the distance in front of me at the Nashville International Airport. This wasn't the first time that I've opted out of the backscatter scanners, nor was it the first time I'd received an "enhanced" pat down.

But unlike the many atrocious reports you've probably read or heard about of aggressive, rude, obnoxious patter downers, I've always had fairly uneventful and painless (or as painless as having a gloved hand running around my waist band can be) experience with the TSA. So I really can't really personally relate to some of the outrageous stories that have been told (like this one).

But that's no excuse to accept these kinds of invasions into our personal privacy just "to obtain a little temporary safety." This kind of violation wouldn't have been tolerated even a decade ago, but today, people will go through nearly anything so long as it's 'for your safety.'

What's even more sobering is the knowledge that the airports are only the first step. The distrust of Americans will eventually move to more general public places like stadiums and schools (oh wait, we already have that), and will only become more and more invasive. But are we actually safer in the air and on the ground today then we were in a pre 9/11 world? I would wager that we're not.

But I know the solution to this whole problem: weapons, maybe even assault rifles.

Yes, I just said that, allow the thing that liberals have nightmares about, and constantly rail against, onto planes. Actually though, they're already on a lot of planes. Many pilots are allowed to have a gun in the cockpit, and more than 10% are armed in the sky (per this not-so happy-about-it article).

Just as arming American citizens can and has protected innocent life on the ground in schools and in public, allowing the people to protect themselves and those around them while in the air will not only make us safer, but it will preserve our liberty and freedom.

I Don't Want to Hear It...

...but that's no excuse for having a 3-year-old-just-lost-his-favorite-toy attitude.

None of us like being corrected, or at least I know that I don't. Sometimes correction means that something I've been doing is way out of line and I really to check my heart. But other times it's simply a kind word from a dear friend telling me I need a little course correction. I know that I need others to help me stay on the straight and narrow, even though it's uncomfortable sometimes to face the fact that I've been wrong (though it really shouldn't be surprising, as it happens all the time), be it a huge log in my eye that a Brother is gently pointing out, or merely a speck
.
For those of you who know me, you know that I tend to over think issues, I can spend days wondering about something someone said, trying to figure out if they were simply being nice, or if they really didn't like my hair. And while it hurts to be told that I'm wrong, in hind sight I am always thankful that they were willing to take my hand and gave me the guidance that I need. But there's one thing that hurts even more than being told "you're wrong": not being told "you're wrong."

When I'm doing something that hurts others, or even simply makes them uncomfortable, like belching at the dinner table for example (though that's not a dining sin that I'm in the habit of committing, just FYI), I'd want to know. But there have been times in my life when there has been something that I was doing that did make others uncomfortable, and it was a while before anyone would tell me.

This happend to me again recently, and needless to say I was a little upset when I finally did find out. I distinctly remember thinking "why didn't they tell me!?!" and I was just starting to get upset when the Lord brought something to mind that my mom told me a year or so ago. In fact, it was shortly after writing this blog post: Would Someone Please Just Tell Me!?!. I even considered titling this entry "Please Just Tell Me!" but I realized that this title would completely miss the point that I apparently still needed to learn.

What my mom had pointed out to me so long ago, and indeed has had occasion to point out several times since (ok, a lot of times, my noggin's pretty think), was that I often don't accept correction with a Christlike attitude. For instance she said that I often argue when others correct me, and I remember getting ready to say "well that's not always true!", and that's when it hit me.  I don't have "ah ha!" moments very often, but I had one then. I had just proven to myself that mom was right (as she usually is).

It's not about others not telling me, it's about me not listening with grace and humility.

I wasn't accepting her correction with enough humility to see that she was right, or enough grace to accept her reproof with thankfulness. The fault lies completely with me. I can't complain that others didn't tell me the hard things, because I hadn't made it safe for them to do so. They weren't making life difficult for me, I was the one making life difficult for them. If I was known to accept correction and reproof with grace and humility, others probably wouldn't hesitate to help me see my flaws.

I think that two of the verses in particular that I quoted in "Would Someone Please Just Tell Me" apply to this situation quite divinely:

Proverbs 15:31: The ear that heareth the reproof of life abideth among the wise. 

Proverbs 15:32: He that refuseth instruction despiseth his own soul: but he that heareth reproof getteth understanding. 

Getting mad at others when they are trying to guide me is like getting mad at the messenger, it doesn't make the message untrue, but it can drive away even my closest friends. By the grace of God, I need to man up and accept responsibility for my actions, and especially when others come to point me towards Christ. After all, those are the best kinds of friends to have.

By God's grace, and with a little more humility than before,
Paul

P.S. This was post 100!