music :: worship :: life
The girl at Chick Fillet handed me my food and as I turned and took the first few steps toward a table, I heard her say very softly, “God bless you.” Since I was several steps away and there were many people in the room and it was quite noisy, and she muttered the words very softly, it was apparent that she didn’t think I had heard, did not intend the words to be heard.
As I ate, I started thinking. What if you were to say a prayer for every person you interacted with during the day. Every person you met. Even those with whom the interaction was adversarial. How would such a habit affect you? I think it would transform your life.
I’m going to try it and see.
When you arrive at the Pearly Gates, how many people will be waiting to greet you, eagerly expecting your arrival, because you were the one who brought them to Christ?
The readings in the Stewardship books have turned out to be very powerful. I thought I would go through the motions of reading the stuff because it was the correct thing to do. Little did I know what an impact it would have. The first few readings were dull, but the readings recently have become profoundly meaningful, directly addressing the warfare I have been waging in my life for the last few months.
Today (yesterday as I write this), the reading asked the question, “When you arrive at the Pearly Gates, how many people will be waiting to greet you, eagerly expecting your arrival, because you were the one who brought them to Christ?” Will it be a large crowd? A small group of good friends? Or no one at all?
I thought the corollary of this is: “When you look around your new heavenly home, how many people will you miss? How many people will not be there because of something you could have said or done but didn’t?”
In a recent issue of Worship Leader magazine, a man wrote about a workshop he’d attended. His church was going through the same kinds of conflicts as ours, struggling over the changes between traditional and contemporary worship. One of the seminars offered was on just this subject. So, along with many others dealing with the same issues, he attended this seminar. The leaders opened with a question. They said before you can make those choices, you need to answer for yourself one question, and you need to ask it of everyone in you congregations. “What things are you determined to hang onto even if they prevent someone from knowing Christ?” A very hard question.
This penetrates to the heart of the central issue I’m struggling with: trying to gain control of my life. The war I’ve been waging with myself over the things I really believe are important, versus the things that fill so much of my time. Until I began reading this book, I’d never realized this was a stewardship issue. But that is exactly what it is.
Twenty-six years ago I was told I had at most two to three years to live. And in May of 1978, I gave my life to God to do with as He would for however long He gave me to live. Every day is a gift—every hour, every breath a gift I have done nothing to deserve. I know this to be true. It would be nice if I could say that I have lived every minute since in full knowledge that I was living on God’s Time. But the truth is that I lose whole days, whole years to living for myself & not for God. It is God’s Time I am wasting, and not my own.
So standing out in sharp relief is the answer—or rather the question—to sort out the chaos in my life. “Does this activity serve to further God’s plan?”
The reading asked us to pray for willingness, and so I did. I got down to my knees on the concrete floor of my shop and asked God for the willingness to let go of everything in my life that does not serve to further His plan.
I feel a change already.
I can’t speak for anyone else, but as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.
Often I have heard that God gives us each a cross to bear. Sometimes I think each of our crosses is uniquely tailored to our specific needs and strengths. But always the burden is too much for us to bear alone.
As we strive, with his help, the effort forces us to grow in ways of his choosing, not necessarily as we would have chosen. So he continues to mold us. But as we grow in wisdom and strength, the cross he gives us grows ever heavier and harder to bear. Thus we never outgrow our need for him.
[powered by WordPress.]
41 queries. 0.973 seconds
Sponsors of this page: