Regardless of what you believe in, how you view our world, morality, right and wrong, problems and solutions, guilt and reconciliation, everybody, including you and I, have things precious to us. And regardless of what the actual thing is that's important you, what is common to all people's precious possessions is that none of them are willing to give it up for nothing. Nobody is willing to trade out fifty million dollars for a crusty dollar bill.
So here's what came to me this past Sunday. There's a lot of artists out there, such as Jay Z and Lady Gaga, who make flamboyant gestures pointing to their allegiance to a secret fraternity known as the Illuminati. The Illuminati, if they exist, are a group of brothers (allowing for females to enter) who worship who we know as Satan, or the Devil. He first came to the knowledge of people through the Holy Bible, and is a fallen angel longing to be like God and promotes independence from God, longing to become God himself. Naturally, his followers will take on similar ideals. "Do What Thou Wilt" is a popular phrase coined by arguably the founder of Satanism, Aleister Crowley, in which Jay Z was infamously known for having printed on one of his t-shirts in the clothing line Rocawear when he was the owner and president of it. Satan, is famously known for exchanging the world for the souls of men and women. He even presented to Jesus Christ, the entire world, so long as the only begotten Son of God kneeled to him. Of course, Jesus did not do so. We can not say the same for every other human being that walked this earth.
But there was that Voice, saying, "Now why would Satan so quickly give up the whole world, in exchange for a human life? What can you tell about what is actually precious to Satan? What does he know that Jesus also knew, yet these artists and many others do not?"
"Well, I suppose this world isn't really that valuable. Not to God, and certainly not to Satan. Why would he give up the world so quickly if it's supposed to be that precious to him?"
"He wouldn't." said the Voice.
"So... Satan, as every good liar does, is making us believe that the world is more important than our souls, than our lives, than our eternities, and bartering with us a deal that will see him profit and see us lose? (Satan is called the father of lies John 8) So just by seeing that Satan is willing to give the whole world to us for our souls, that must mean that our souls are more valuable than the whole world, that this whole world is nothing compared to our souls. And even Satan knows it. That You, Father of creation, see us more valuable above every other created thing, even the whole world. And Satan, is trying to take that for himself, by lying to us, by flattering us, by conning us. He means to murder us."
"Good answer." said the Voice.
I can not tell you that there are many people who outright worship Satan. But I can tell you there are many who adhere to his beliefs.
I can not tell you that there are many people who know who Satan is, and what he wants. But I can tell you there are many who seek and want the same things.
I can not tell you there are many people who seek the truth with all their hearts. But I can tell you there is one fallen angel that knows God's Word through and through.
And these artists are just one of many who adhere to these beliefs, who promote selfishness, pride, envy, jealousy, chasing after money like the wind... who have fallen into this lie of making a deal with the Devil. But I tell you now, this deal is not just made with the super rich, or the haughty or the jealous, it is made with every single living person on this planet. And all have a choice, to follow and seek God, or turn and seek after the world. I can tell you now my friends, that all this earth has to offer is nothing compared to all that heaven has to offer... for "what do you benefit if you gain the whole world but lose your own soul? Is anything worth more than your soul? (matt 16) For even if you die a rich and glorious man, powerful in stature and presence, influential more than the others, and a fame that spanned across the seven seas...
A live dog is better than a dead lion. (eccl 9)
God is love.
S.D.G
My Wife's a Whore.
I had no money at the time. I didn't really have a choice. None of us did. It was accepted. Something everybody just lived by... or rather, lived on. You see, you Americans couldn't possibly understand. You can't understand how emasculating it is, to see your wife have to sleep with another man to have food on the table... and you, having to consent to it, not because someone put a gun to your head, or because she's sneaking around behind your back...
But because if you didn't, you couldn't be with her.
This isn't uncommon throughout human history, if you Americans even care about anything outside of your own. Did you not have slaves once yourselves? Slaves are not a thing of the past. You see, in my country, we have very few landowners, and very many workers. And with so few people in control, benevolence and giving to others is a very far-fetched ideal... although our national religion claims to be otherwise, and so does yours. Was not your country the same? The only work that we men have is serving foreigners like you, coming here to see our beautiful country, celebrating and enjoying the lives they lead, waiting for your vacation days... to "get away" from it all. Imagine that...
Vacation.
God if I could only get away from this place, from this country... for free men and bond men walk here along the same streets, but never to the same place. The rich man and the poor man have two eyes, two feet and two hands... but one has golden chains around theirs, and the other... silver shackles. We have forever dwelled in the shadow of those who walk before us, as our masters, our "givers", the ones who take our wives who in return give us what we need. This is my giver. This is my land of the free. Does it really matter to you though? I mean, you don't want to ruin your honeymoon, do you?
I have seen you smile, gazing into the eyes of your fiance, and in the dark have seen you grin at my newly wed wife, riding in the back seat of my car... watching her smile back at you, wondering when the night will finally be over. Many foreigners come here because our country is beautiful; I do not find it beautiful. If there ever was a good, beautiful God, this is not the place He would have made. We worship idle statues and buildings, burning incense and fragrances for these images that never give back, and if this is love, if this is considered beauty, then I wish to be free of it. For every time I see you foreigners come, my stomach begins to churn... and my heart begins to thump... because in my heart, I hate you. Yet with my mouth, I must grind my teeth and love you.
I know you foreigner. You walk by a beggar on the street every day of your life, on the richest street in the world, as if he will no longer exist after he has left your sight. Too busy are you? But the beggar still lies there, still hungry, still slowly fading away every day of every morning. And the slave still walks in your shadow, yet you stroll along as if you do not notice me. But one day, you will. For human justice is blind... but not true Justice. You, oh rich child, will be held accountable for everything that you do, did you know that? Do you?
My countrymen... we... do not wish to be beggars, so we have chosen to be slaves. I need money, don't you? So my wife and I have decided that she will be your whore, and I will be your driver. This is not the life of a real man. This is not the life of a free woman. These are the lives of slaves. And you...
You are our customer.
God save us all.
But because if you didn't, you couldn't be with her.
This isn't uncommon throughout human history, if you Americans even care about anything outside of your own. Did you not have slaves once yourselves? Slaves are not a thing of the past. You see, in my country, we have very few landowners, and very many workers. And with so few people in control, benevolence and giving to others is a very far-fetched ideal... although our national religion claims to be otherwise, and so does yours. Was not your country the same? The only work that we men have is serving foreigners like you, coming here to see our beautiful country, celebrating and enjoying the lives they lead, waiting for your vacation days... to "get away" from it all. Imagine that...
Vacation.
God if I could only get away from this place, from this country... for free men and bond men walk here along the same streets, but never to the same place. The rich man and the poor man have two eyes, two feet and two hands... but one has golden chains around theirs, and the other... silver shackles. We have forever dwelled in the shadow of those who walk before us, as our masters, our "givers", the ones who take our wives who in return give us what we need. This is my giver. This is my land of the free. Does it really matter to you though? I mean, you don't want to ruin your honeymoon, do you?
I have seen you smile, gazing into the eyes of your fiance, and in the dark have seen you grin at my newly wed wife, riding in the back seat of my car... watching her smile back at you, wondering when the night will finally be over. Many foreigners come here because our country is beautiful; I do not find it beautiful. If there ever was a good, beautiful God, this is not the place He would have made. We worship idle statues and buildings, burning incense and fragrances for these images that never give back, and if this is love, if this is considered beauty, then I wish to be free of it. For every time I see you foreigners come, my stomach begins to churn... and my heart begins to thump... because in my heart, I hate you. Yet with my mouth, I must grind my teeth and love you.
I know you foreigner. You walk by a beggar on the street every day of your life, on the richest street in the world, as if he will no longer exist after he has left your sight. Too busy are you? But the beggar still lies there, still hungry, still slowly fading away every day of every morning. And the slave still walks in your shadow, yet you stroll along as if you do not notice me. But one day, you will. For human justice is blind... but not true Justice. You, oh rich child, will be held accountable for everything that you do, did you know that? Do you?
My countrymen... we... do not wish to be beggars, so we have chosen to be slaves. I need money, don't you? So my wife and I have decided that she will be your whore, and I will be your driver. This is not the life of a real man. This is not the life of a free woman. These are the lives of slaves. And you...
You are our customer.
God save us all.
I'd Rather Look Good.
I can guarantee that you have probably never met someone who has never been inspired, changed to whatever degree, or moved by the movies. Whether it was during a specific time in their life, or how relatable it was to what that person was struggling with... every one I know at one point in time was hit, deep in their hearts, by a beautifully written, perfectly shot and produced motion picture.
As I was watching one of my favorite movies again, "Moneyball", a very sad thought ran across my mind. It was saying, "Andy, look at how these great actors, can act so well, to play these great men and women many long to be like and are inspired by... yet how miserably Hollywood fails in their own lives to actually be like these great men and women they work so hard to play."
I can watch an actor live out a storied life of being the greatest father in the world, a live motion Atticus Finch even (one of the greatest literary heroes of our time), a war hero who never compromised and gave it all for the good of his country and for freedom, or even a 'closest to reality' we've seen of Jesus Christ in live motion picture... then hear about how hard the people behind these films failed to actually live out even a small portion of the characters they portray. How the mighty have fallen.
There's a laundry list of names of actors and actresses who have fallen into this category, and I'm sure you and I could speak about all the different famous people we know who act one way on camera, and another way off the screen. And what is the truth here? Aren't we all imperfect? Yes! A wise saying. This is not the point I am getting at. What hurts the most, and burns deepest, is that these great actors and actresses spend so much more time, learning how to "act" out a good life, than they spend seeking a life that is 'act'ually good (pun intended). To repeat, they spend so much time learning how to "act" out a good life, to "walk and talk" like a good man or woman, they neglect the time needed to actually become like these good men and women they "act" like.
And here's the kicker,
We are no better.
I have met time and time again, people who would care more about what others thought of them, than who they actually were behind the walls of their rooms. I have met people who said they'd rather appear strong, than actually be strong. They'd rather appear beautiful, than actually be beautiful. They'd rather appear intelligent, like they've got it all together... then actually live out a wise, humble life. And this ideal is so important to them, the approval of others, that it so powerfully influences the decisions they make in their lives to the point where they will not only lie to you and me, but even to themselves! They would rather live a lie than see the truth. They would rather be lied to than spoken truth to. How far we have fallen from truth!
I'd like to end with a familiar story.
A Hare was lying comfortably in his shelter one sunny afternoon, deep in the green woods, when a curious and lively Tortoise walked up to him and asked "Would you like to run a race with me? I have practiced much and would like to see how I fare against a hare. I dare not presume to be quicker than an animal such as yourself, but if you would be so kind to amuse a friend in the slower spectrum of the Kingdom, I would very much appreciate the gesture!" The Hare, trying not to show a condescending tone, replied, "Dear Tortoise, it would be a dishonor to me and all the other hares of the Kingdom if I were to race against an animal such as yourself. When an animal becomes a part of this spectrum of the Kingdom, we do not think as you do. We must keep up appearances you know. How silly my fellow hares would think of me to lower myself to race even a tortoise! They would think I couldn't run or something!" Truth was, the Hare had injured himself trying to jump a pond that was much too big for him to jump, but couldn't bear the thought of others knowing he was a rabbit who couldn't run anymore.
The Tortoise replied, "But my dear friend, we have never raced before. How do you know if I am that much slower than you are to warrant ridicule from your comrades? And I could learn from you, to better my own running in hopes of becoming a faster animal in the Kingdom." The Hare, trying very hard to sound as if he truly cared for the Tortoise, continued telling the Tortoise more reasons why racing was out of the question.
After they had finished their talk the Tortoise walked off, sad he did not get to race a hare that day. The Hare, sitting still until the Tortoise was out of sight, sprang out of his shelter and immediately went to tell all the friends of the wood, including and most especially not forgetting those who were acquainted with tortoises, that the Hare was far superior in running ability than the Tortoise, and how laughable the idea was of them racing one another. He would tell stories of how quick he could run to and fro, even told stories of how he outran foxes and leopards (though there weren't any leopards or foxes in those woods, only hearsay). The Hare even went as far as to get his close friends, who were just as lazy as he was, to act out scenes of their former races in their days, and the glory that came with being crowned the fastest animal in the Kingdom (when in fact, they were much slower than many of the larger four legged animals). And though the Tortoise would have understood if the Hare had explained his injury, for tortoises are known to be patient, the Hare was too embarrassed to admit it, and became all the more determined to make sure all the wood knew that he was indeed faster than the Tortoise.
As time passed the Tortoise ventured out to different parts of the wood, meeting many animals and eventually became known around all the Kingdom as a lover of races and physical prowess, that though he never was the champion of any of the races he raced in, he was respected as the humble Tortoise, who helped other creatures realize the depth of their own physical giftings. And to this day, in many crowds, he is the animal's favorite, just as it is in humans it too is also in animals; it is always fun to root for the underdog.
And for months and months, and years and years, the Hare never left his shelter, deep in the green woods, with friends of the wood, telling stories of how superior hares were than tortoises, and telling stories of how quick he could dart to and fro, even outrunning foxes and leopards (though there are not any leopards or foxes in his woods, only hearsay). And though the Hare was invited many times to join the races, I do believe the Hare is still sitting in his shelter, deep in the green woods, telling stories to the same friends, to this very day.
S.D.G
As I was watching one of my favorite movies again, "Moneyball", a very sad thought ran across my mind. It was saying, "Andy, look at how these great actors, can act so well, to play these great men and women many long to be like and are inspired by... yet how miserably Hollywood fails in their own lives to actually be like these great men and women they work so hard to play."
I can watch an actor live out a storied life of being the greatest father in the world, a live motion Atticus Finch even (one of the greatest literary heroes of our time), a war hero who never compromised and gave it all for the good of his country and for freedom, or even a 'closest to reality' we've seen of Jesus Christ in live motion picture... then hear about how hard the people behind these films failed to actually live out even a small portion of the characters they portray. How the mighty have fallen.
There's a laundry list of names of actors and actresses who have fallen into this category, and I'm sure you and I could speak about all the different famous people we know who act one way on camera, and another way off the screen. And what is the truth here? Aren't we all imperfect? Yes! A wise saying. This is not the point I am getting at. What hurts the most, and burns deepest, is that these great actors and actresses spend so much more time, learning how to "act" out a good life, than they spend seeking a life that is 'act'ually good (pun intended). To repeat, they spend so much time learning how to "act" out a good life, to "walk and talk" like a good man or woman, they neglect the time needed to actually become like these good men and women they "act" like.
And here's the kicker,
We are no better.
I have met time and time again, people who would care more about what others thought of them, than who they actually were behind the walls of their rooms. I have met people who said they'd rather appear strong, than actually be strong. They'd rather appear beautiful, than actually be beautiful. They'd rather appear intelligent, like they've got it all together... then actually live out a wise, humble life. And this ideal is so important to them, the approval of others, that it so powerfully influences the decisions they make in their lives to the point where they will not only lie to you and me, but even to themselves! They would rather live a lie than see the truth. They would rather be lied to than spoken truth to. How far we have fallen from truth!
I'd like to end with a familiar story.
A Hare was lying comfortably in his shelter one sunny afternoon, deep in the green woods, when a curious and lively Tortoise walked up to him and asked "Would you like to run a race with me? I have practiced much and would like to see how I fare against a hare. I dare not presume to be quicker than an animal such as yourself, but if you would be so kind to amuse a friend in the slower spectrum of the Kingdom, I would very much appreciate the gesture!" The Hare, trying not to show a condescending tone, replied, "Dear Tortoise, it would be a dishonor to me and all the other hares of the Kingdom if I were to race against an animal such as yourself. When an animal becomes a part of this spectrum of the Kingdom, we do not think as you do. We must keep up appearances you know. How silly my fellow hares would think of me to lower myself to race even a tortoise! They would think I couldn't run or something!" Truth was, the Hare had injured himself trying to jump a pond that was much too big for him to jump, but couldn't bear the thought of others knowing he was a rabbit who couldn't run anymore.
The Tortoise replied, "But my dear friend, we have never raced before. How do you know if I am that much slower than you are to warrant ridicule from your comrades? And I could learn from you, to better my own running in hopes of becoming a faster animal in the Kingdom." The Hare, trying very hard to sound as if he truly cared for the Tortoise, continued telling the Tortoise more reasons why racing was out of the question.
After they had finished their talk the Tortoise walked off, sad he did not get to race a hare that day. The Hare, sitting still until the Tortoise was out of sight, sprang out of his shelter and immediately went to tell all the friends of the wood, including and most especially not forgetting those who were acquainted with tortoises, that the Hare was far superior in running ability than the Tortoise, and how laughable the idea was of them racing one another. He would tell stories of how quick he could run to and fro, even told stories of how he outran foxes and leopards (though there weren't any leopards or foxes in those woods, only hearsay). The Hare even went as far as to get his close friends, who were just as lazy as he was, to act out scenes of their former races in their days, and the glory that came with being crowned the fastest animal in the Kingdom (when in fact, they were much slower than many of the larger four legged animals). And though the Tortoise would have understood if the Hare had explained his injury, for tortoises are known to be patient, the Hare was too embarrassed to admit it, and became all the more determined to make sure all the wood knew that he was indeed faster than the Tortoise.
As time passed the Tortoise ventured out to different parts of the wood, meeting many animals and eventually became known around all the Kingdom as a lover of races and physical prowess, that though he never was the champion of any of the races he raced in, he was respected as the humble Tortoise, who helped other creatures realize the depth of their own physical giftings. And to this day, in many crowds, he is the animal's favorite, just as it is in humans it too is also in animals; it is always fun to root for the underdog.
And for months and months, and years and years, the Hare never left his shelter, deep in the green woods, with friends of the wood, telling stories of how superior hares were than tortoises, and telling stories of how quick he could dart to and fro, even outrunning foxes and leopards (though there are not any leopards or foxes in his woods, only hearsay). And though the Hare was invited many times to join the races, I do believe the Hare is still sitting in his shelter, deep in the green woods, telling stories to the same friends, to this very day.
S.D.G
2pac's Hologram.
In light of this really, really cool concept coming to life before our eyes at Coachella, I found myself listening to 2pac songs again. For whatever reason, I began to get sad...
I see 2pac and I see two things, two sides, or as MLK Jr. said, a civil war going on in the heart of the man. He had hatred, anger, pride, jealousy, and lust on one end of his spectrum, and the other... he had regret, depression, hope, gratitude, and love. Remind you of someone?
I remember growing up as a teenager and a college student, idolizing him over most anyone else, even putting him next to MLK and Ghandi (at the time). While this certainly isn't a warranted praise, I found that what I really connected to was his "real"ness. Or as Pac would say, "I'm the realest mother f***** you ever saw". As arrogant of an expression as that is, he was right in a lot of ways. How many people do you know, can you honestly, truthfully say, gives you their word, means it, and follows through with it, every time you speak with them?
I only know a few.
How many people you know, in your church, actually says something, and then actually does it?
I only know a few.
How many people do you know, would lay down their pride, and in all humility and honesty, come before God and him or herself, and lay down all of their sins before Him? And then, when possible, ask for forgiveness to the one they wronged?
"For the gate is small and the way is narrow that leads to life, and there are few who find it." Matt 7:14
I see 2pac and I see a man who once sought out good, sought out a life of hope, and couldn't find it. Instead, he was enticed by a life of extravagance, boastfulness, riches and fame, and succumbed to his desires that, truth be told, we all succumb to, to our own degree, in our own lives, and through our own way. So what is truth?
There are few who find it.
If this hologram, singing "Makaveli" in the background reminded me of anything, spoke anything to my heart, it was that his "resurrection" is a reminder of the death that is caused by the human condition of great pride, and the social evangelism that preaches pride, passion & power; the three jewels of the modern world. I long to see you in heaven my beloved, and my pride is in grace. My passion is you. And my power is in the love of Christ, my beloved, my resurrection, my life.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mgnkLILDM0o
I see 2pac and I see two things, two sides, or as MLK Jr. said, a civil war going on in the heart of the man. He had hatred, anger, pride, jealousy, and lust on one end of his spectrum, and the other... he had regret, depression, hope, gratitude, and love. Remind you of someone?
I remember growing up as a teenager and a college student, idolizing him over most anyone else, even putting him next to MLK and Ghandi (at the time). While this certainly isn't a warranted praise, I found that what I really connected to was his "real"ness. Or as Pac would say, "I'm the realest mother f***** you ever saw". As arrogant of an expression as that is, he was right in a lot of ways. How many people do you know, can you honestly, truthfully say, gives you their word, means it, and follows through with it, every time you speak with them?
I only know a few.
How many people you know, in your church, actually says something, and then actually does it?
I only know a few.
How many people do you know, would lay down their pride, and in all humility and honesty, come before God and him or herself, and lay down all of their sins before Him? And then, when possible, ask for forgiveness to the one they wronged?
"For the gate is small and the way is narrow that leads to life, and there are few who find it." Matt 7:14
I see 2pac and I see a man who once sought out good, sought out a life of hope, and couldn't find it. Instead, he was enticed by a life of extravagance, boastfulness, riches and fame, and succumbed to his desires that, truth be told, we all succumb to, to our own degree, in our own lives, and through our own way. So what is truth?
There are few who find it.
If this hologram, singing "Makaveli" in the background reminded me of anything, spoke anything to my heart, it was that his "resurrection" is a reminder of the death that is caused by the human condition of great pride, and the social evangelism that preaches pride, passion & power; the three jewels of the modern world. I long to see you in heaven my beloved, and my pride is in grace. My passion is you. And my power is in the love of Christ, my beloved, my resurrection, my life.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mgnkLILDM0o
The Road is Long
Paul's journey was a difficult one, to say the least. He was flogged, beaten, stoned, left shipwrecked, starving, hungry and destitute... put in chains, left cold and naked... all for the sake of the Gospel. I sometimes asked, and perhaps you have too... why did he do all that?
Would I?
I have never met a true follower of Christ, a true man of God, living by faith and not by sight, being led by the Spirit, trusting in the Lord with all their hearts, not have to sacrifice all they have for their Lord Jesus Christ. After all, He is Lord is He not? The God of all creation, of heaven and earth, holy and awesome in power and glory, gracious and kind to those who call to Him, even to those who do not... and we as His servants, are no greater than He are we? He washed our feet. We ought to wash one another's. He gave up His seat in heaven, His equality with God, His position, His rank, His table in the Kingdom eternal... to be beaten, spit on and humiliated by men and women, all to save men and women.
Yet for this He ascended on high, to the right Hand of God, loved by the Father for His humility, His goodness, and His faithfulness. Easter Sunday. The greatest day of my life, where every whimper and complaint that comes from my heart, every arrogant finger pointed at the Lord, every hedonistic pleasure given in to so easily, and every hateful and spiteful word and thought I felt and released... I count them against me no more, for the Judge, the Father, does not count them against me. Though I sin, and continue to do so... though I have weakness after weakness... I can boast of them. Because He still enjoys me during these times. This is not a hockey game. God does not have a penalty box for those of us who fail, who struggle, and who are weak. I do not run from the Father no longer, in shame and guilt, thinking if enough time passes of my feeling "sorry" for what I had done, all will be well with me and my Father again. There are no spiritual "time-outs" for the purpose of gaining God's love; there never were. His favor was never dependent upon what I did... remember? It was dependent on Jesus Christ, on the nature of the Father, and my "yes" cry to Him. We have inherited His righteousness. I do not mean to say that God approves of all that I do... by no means, we are told to put away our former lusts. But I am speaking of what God did for us... that though we still struggle through the years, He is always with us. He is not upset with you, but He enjoys you, loves you, even in your weakness, even in your laziness, even if you have fallen into spiritual slumber. Though you have not been seeking Him... though every step you take you wonder if it is for the Lord and why you feel so alone... He loves you! Go to Him! He will reveal to you more than you can imagine, and give you the strength to continue on, and carry you back to where you belong, so that the lions will not devour you whole.
What man among you, if he has a hundred sheep and has lost one of them, does not leave the ninety-nine in the open pasture and go after the one which is lost until he finds it? When he has found it, he lays it on his shoulders, rejoicing. And when he comes home, he calls together his friends and his neighbors, saying to them, 'Rejoice with me, for I have found my sheep which was lost!' I tell you that in the same way, there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance. (Luke 15)
We repent daily, as even in the Lord's prayer, we ask for daily bread along with the forgiveness of our debts, for his mercies are new every morning, great is His faithfulness (Lam 3) When we truly believe this, I believe, we will know why Paul suffered so much. For we love God because He loved us first... and as I grow to know Him more, of how loving, faithful, and awesome He is.. I will grow more in love with the Father, have more faith in Him, and my faith and love will be seen not by words, theology or song.. but by deed. The cost is great to follow the Lord, isn't it? Yet I count all things as loss in view of the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus (Phil 3). The sufferings are great to be glorified with Him, aren't they? Yet we consider that the sufferings of the present are not worthy to be compared with the glory that is to be revealed to us (Rom 8). Paul, a human like you and I, did not attain this perfection while writing this letter, and I certainly have not either... yet my soul cries,
...that I may know Him and the power of His resurrection and the fellowship of His sufferings, being conformed to His death; in order that I may attain to the resurrection from the dead. (Phil 3) God we seek You, show us Your glory.
Would I?
I have never met a true follower of Christ, a true man of God, living by faith and not by sight, being led by the Spirit, trusting in the Lord with all their hearts, not have to sacrifice all they have for their Lord Jesus Christ. After all, He is Lord is He not? The God of all creation, of heaven and earth, holy and awesome in power and glory, gracious and kind to those who call to Him, even to those who do not... and we as His servants, are no greater than He are we? He washed our feet. We ought to wash one another's. He gave up His seat in heaven, His equality with God, His position, His rank, His table in the Kingdom eternal... to be beaten, spit on and humiliated by men and women, all to save men and women.
Yet for this He ascended on high, to the right Hand of God, loved by the Father for His humility, His goodness, and His faithfulness. Easter Sunday. The greatest day of my life, where every whimper and complaint that comes from my heart, every arrogant finger pointed at the Lord, every hedonistic pleasure given in to so easily, and every hateful and spiteful word and thought I felt and released... I count them against me no more, for the Judge, the Father, does not count them against me. Though I sin, and continue to do so... though I have weakness after weakness... I can boast of them. Because He still enjoys me during these times. This is not a hockey game. God does not have a penalty box for those of us who fail, who struggle, and who are weak. I do not run from the Father no longer, in shame and guilt, thinking if enough time passes of my feeling "sorry" for what I had done, all will be well with me and my Father again. There are no spiritual "time-outs" for the purpose of gaining God's love; there never were. His favor was never dependent upon what I did... remember? It was dependent on Jesus Christ, on the nature of the Father, and my "yes" cry to Him. We have inherited His righteousness. I do not mean to say that God approves of all that I do... by no means, we are told to put away our former lusts. But I am speaking of what God did for us... that though we still struggle through the years, He is always with us. He is not upset with you, but He enjoys you, loves you, even in your weakness, even in your laziness, even if you have fallen into spiritual slumber. Though you have not been seeking Him... though every step you take you wonder if it is for the Lord and why you feel so alone... He loves you! Go to Him! He will reveal to you more than you can imagine, and give you the strength to continue on, and carry you back to where you belong, so that the lions will not devour you whole.
What man among you, if he has a hundred sheep and has lost one of them, does not leave the ninety-nine in the open pasture and go after the one which is lost until he finds it? When he has found it, he lays it on his shoulders, rejoicing. And when he comes home, he calls together his friends and his neighbors, saying to them, 'Rejoice with me, for I have found my sheep which was lost!' I tell you that in the same way, there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance. (Luke 15)
We repent daily, as even in the Lord's prayer, we ask for daily bread along with the forgiveness of our debts, for his mercies are new every morning, great is His faithfulness (Lam 3) When we truly believe this, I believe, we will know why Paul suffered so much. For we love God because He loved us first... and as I grow to know Him more, of how loving, faithful, and awesome He is.. I will grow more in love with the Father, have more faith in Him, and my faith and love will be seen not by words, theology or song.. but by deed. The cost is great to follow the Lord, isn't it? Yet I count all things as loss in view of the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus (Phil 3). The sufferings are great to be glorified with Him, aren't they? Yet we consider that the sufferings of the present are not worthy to be compared with the glory that is to be revealed to us (Rom 8). Paul, a human like you and I, did not attain this perfection while writing this letter, and I certainly have not either... yet my soul cries,
...that I may know Him and the power of His resurrection and the fellowship of His sufferings, being conformed to His death; in order that I may attain to the resurrection from the dead. (Phil 3) God we seek You, show us Your glory.
Something More...
How many times will we go back?
To the
people who bring us back to the road that never ends, tirelessly
circling to the point where a drunken daze is the only way to cope
with these thoughts in my head? Will the knife win me over or will
the pill put me to sleep? I don't know why but I know I gotta change
but something keeps telling me to stay where I am, to finally lay my
head in my bloodied bed. Will I? Should I? I've certainly
considered, but now I'm at the end of my road, tired of the circles,
of the lies that lift me up for one moment then leave me drowning the
next. I'm tired of hearing your lies, your phony truths about a love
that's made by my tears and pride, I'm tired of this life. I'm tired
of this life! So someone come and save me! I have nothing to lose. What do I have? All I held dear has led me here... are the scars on
my wrists and the emptiness in my eyes proof enough to change?
The world around me always claimed we
didn't need a Savior, but as my heart slowly beats, fading with every
moment without a hope I have yet to see, why am I crying out for one? Did I miss something?
Am I the only one feeling like this?
Is this life really all for naught and
God is whoever we make him out to be? Isn't he greater than you? Greater than me? Isn't there something coming or waiting for me? If
it's not Him, if it's not eternal, then I don't want it! How many
men and women have given me a false love, a hope that faded, a dream
that ended, a lust that masqueraded as true love... how many times?
No more of your lies! I'm looking for a love that never dies, a hope
that never fades and a dream that's beyond my nightly tears. And if
there is a God, though I don't know much, I know I'll find You. I
don't know why, but I know I'll find You. People can only do so
much. Look at us! Why am I suicidal? Why am I so violent? Why do
people rape others? Steal? Kill? Murder? Live so selfishly and
greedily? How long will You let this go God? Haven't You seen
enough?
Though my parents and my closest
friends have called them foolish, I've seen a joy in their eyes, a
love and a passion I have never seen before in my life, one that I'm
jealous of and desperate for. Some seem to fake it. Some just seem
to do it for the money. Some seem to do it for fame. But others, a
few I've seen, seem to truly be in love with Jesus Christ. We call
them fools but who are we to judge? I'm the one cutting myself,
bleeding in my bathroom sink... getting high every chance I get...
where did I lose myself? How did it come so far? My tears drip down
my pen, as I remember the beautiful days of my youth, innocent and
naïve, pure in so many ways... before the rage set in. Before the
depression bottled me into this prison of unforgiving hate, fueling
the guilt of my own sins... that's where I lost my place. Yes,
that's where I lost my faith. So that's where I need to pick myself
up again. Can a person turn into a ghost, and go back to a time
where the future held promise and joy?
Can a person be born again?
So tell me where You are and I will
meet You there, wherever You may be, be it far, be it near, my heart
is empty and my soul draws near.. I seek You with all my heart, as if
my life will start over and the days will be renewed... for my fear
also draws near, telling me to stay away from the Son. But I will
not listen to him anymore, he who brought me to this place, who
laughed at my pains and my pride and my shame... I will not listen to
him anymore, because I know in my heart there is more.
I believe in my soul I am more.
-Your best friend
-Your best friend
Something
I always wondered if there was something coming or waiting for me. You know like those kids at school, that chosen few that everyone always wants to be but would never admit to? Yeah... as much as I hate to say it, they always seemed to have something I never had.
They always seemed so much happier than me.
Far be it for me to admit to you that I'd want to be like them, and you know that for me to be even telling you a single positive characteristic of the ostentatious bunch hogging up the lunch tables during every break should tell you what kind of day I've had, even though it's my birthday! I mean, come on! I hate it too, but every time one of them comes up to talk to me, my heart starts racing and I secretly hope that whatever they have to say to me will add a little light to the end of my day, (which, by the way, almost never happens) and I hate it when I do that... but I do it. And you know I'd hate saying this to anyone more than anybody, but some days, they always look like they're so care-free. God what I'd do for that. Every time I look at them talking among themselves, as pretentious as they can be, they always look like they got it all together, have it all figured out... like they have everything. And some days, like this one, I wished I too had everything.
Sometimes when we're all hanging out, my mind starts zoning out and my body would get into this hazy, drifting mode I like to call "space-walking." And during those moments though I'm standing still, I feel like a fly on the wall, disappearing into thin-air, non-existent to everyone passing me by... as if no one knew that I was there, or rather... that no one cared. I know it's depressing but just listen.
I even met someone for god's sake! I know you hate it when I talk about him but I got to, cuz it's my birthday and this is in writing so you have to read it haha ;) But even when I was with him, I tell you, I'd still have those "space-walking" moments where I'd feel depressed and alone. I never said lonely! I'm not being emo, ok? I swear. Just... alone.
You gotta admit it, he was charming, smart, very popular around town... yeah he was a bit arrogant but I didn't mind it for a while. I just wanted to be accepted, wanted to be loved. And you know, I can honestly say there was never a doubt in my mind that this would make me happy, that this would fill me up and satisfy me... And for a while, it did. It really did. I didn't worry about anything. Any other girl in school would be happy to have him as a boyfriend I told myself. And during those days I felt strong, proud, and confident... like I was where I was suppose to be, like I finally was getting what was coming to me. I knew all the right people and all the right people knew me, and I flaunted it like a badge of honor. To be... or should I say,
To feel...
Proud.
I was at the top of the social food chain. No one could talk down to me or poke fun at me (without social repercussions). I was protected. I was respected. I was where I always wanted to be.
Then things started getting complicated. I know you already know, just listen.
He started telling me how much he loved me. Yes, he used the "L" word, several times. And every time he'd say it, it was always when we were making out in my room when my parents weren't home. There was always a part of me that knew he was lying.. but for a moment there, I really didn't care. How come I never got to have a happy ending? Why did my happiness always come with an asterisk at the end of it? Why don't I get a fairy tale? I mean I'm entitled to it after all the... you know... crap in my life. Anyways, yes... if you must know... we did it. Sigh. He was my first. He didn't even hold me after it happened, nor did he even call me the next day. I wanted to cry so bad after we finished but I held it in until he left. I'd be too embarrassed to cry. You know I hate it when I cry. I remember when he walked out the door a weird thought came to me, that I might never see him again. What truth that little voice spoke. I mean I trusted him with everything. Everything. He didn't seem as interested in me anymore, and I remember you told me a thousand times that I needed to leave him... but I didn't. I hope you understand that up to that point, my boyfriend was my whole life. Without him, I would have lost all my new "friends", and probably would have been ex-communicated from the group that held my lofty social status in limbo by the lips of their mouths and the clicks of their smart phones, just by his status changing from "In a relationship" to "Single".
I know.
I was using him too.
I mean, I liked him and all... but I don't think I ever liked him. You know what they say, hindsight is always 20/20. The idea of being liked by someone like him (or anyone for that matter) and what it would do for me socially, was what really kept me in that relationship. I hardly knew him to tell you the truth, and though I'd share with him all about me, like he was prince charming and I was sleeping beauty, he never seemed to listen... or care. Most of our time was spent making out in front of school where no one seemed to care about what we were doing... or in a dark corner somewhere where no one would ever see what we were doing. I never liked to hide it, but I know he did.
So, this is your best friend. I got used for sex. And I used him for fame. Charming, aren't I?
God I must sound so pathetic to you by now, but I'm writing this to you because you're my best friend... and I have no one else to go to. Sometimes I hear your voice in my head telling me what I should do during the hard times in my life... I hear you say "Pray, God is always listening." I rarely ever did take that advice... my parents don't really believe in God and neither do I. But you know what? On this occasion, I actually did. I actually prayed.
I remember when your parents were going through their divorce, though it was really tough on you, you would pray and cry with tears rolling down your eyes, asking Jesus for hope. Even when your younger brother committed suicide, and you felt so powerless to do anything, you still had hope. I mean at one point it was you counseling me over what happened instead of the other way around! And honestly, I admired you for it. I don't know how you did it, but I wish I could do it too.
Sometimes I still wonder if there's something grand waiting for me... if there's a hope I didn't find yet or didn't see through all the bulls**t. But I don't know if I can just turn around and start believing like you... and the sad thing is, even after having everything I thought I wanted, and finding out it wasn't as gratifying as it looked, I'm still here wondering when my life will radiate with hope and great things like your life seems to do for you. I know I've never asked you this before, but seeing how I even admitted to you that thing about those "popular" kids at school... I figure this can't be as embarrassing or as pride swallowing as that. And you totally don't have to do this if you don't want to... but, I was just wondering, as my best friend, since it's my birthday...
Could you pray for me?
-Your best friend
They always seemed so much happier than me.
Far be it for me to admit to you that I'd want to be like them, and you know that for me to be even telling you a single positive characteristic of the ostentatious bunch hogging up the lunch tables during every break should tell you what kind of day I've had, even though it's my birthday! I mean, come on! I hate it too, but every time one of them comes up to talk to me, my heart starts racing and I secretly hope that whatever they have to say to me will add a little light to the end of my day, (which, by the way, almost never happens) and I hate it when I do that... but I do it. And you know I'd hate saying this to anyone more than anybody, but some days, they always look like they're so care-free. God what I'd do for that. Every time I look at them talking among themselves, as pretentious as they can be, they always look like they got it all together, have it all figured out... like they have everything. And some days, like this one, I wished I too had everything.
Sometimes when we're all hanging out, my mind starts zoning out and my body would get into this hazy, drifting mode I like to call "space-walking." And during those moments though I'm standing still, I feel like a fly on the wall, disappearing into thin-air, non-existent to everyone passing me by... as if no one knew that I was there, or rather... that no one cared. I know it's depressing but just listen.
I even met someone for god's sake! I know you hate it when I talk about him but I got to, cuz it's my birthday and this is in writing so you have to read it haha ;) But even when I was with him, I tell you, I'd still have those "space-walking" moments where I'd feel depressed and alone. I never said lonely! I'm not being emo, ok? I swear. Just... alone.
You gotta admit it, he was charming, smart, very popular around town... yeah he was a bit arrogant but I didn't mind it for a while. I just wanted to be accepted, wanted to be loved. And you know, I can honestly say there was never a doubt in my mind that this would make me happy, that this would fill me up and satisfy me... And for a while, it did. It really did. I didn't worry about anything. Any other girl in school would be happy to have him as a boyfriend I told myself. And during those days I felt strong, proud, and confident... like I was where I was suppose to be, like I finally was getting what was coming to me. I knew all the right people and all the right people knew me, and I flaunted it like a badge of honor. To be... or should I say,
To feel...
Proud.
I was at the top of the social food chain. No one could talk down to me or poke fun at me (without social repercussions). I was protected. I was respected. I was where I always wanted to be.
Then things started getting complicated. I know you already know, just listen.
He started telling me how much he loved me. Yes, he used the "L" word, several times. And every time he'd say it, it was always when we were making out in my room when my parents weren't home. There was always a part of me that knew he was lying.. but for a moment there, I really didn't care. How come I never got to have a happy ending? Why did my happiness always come with an asterisk at the end of it? Why don't I get a fairy tale? I mean I'm entitled to it after all the... you know... crap in my life. Anyways, yes... if you must know... we did it. Sigh. He was my first. He didn't even hold me after it happened, nor did he even call me the next day. I wanted to cry so bad after we finished but I held it in until he left. I'd be too embarrassed to cry. You know I hate it when I cry. I remember when he walked out the door a weird thought came to me, that I might never see him again. What truth that little voice spoke. I mean I trusted him with everything. Everything. He didn't seem as interested in me anymore, and I remember you told me a thousand times that I needed to leave him... but I didn't. I hope you understand that up to that point, my boyfriend was my whole life. Without him, I would have lost all my new "friends", and probably would have been ex-communicated from the group that held my lofty social status in limbo by the lips of their mouths and the clicks of their smart phones, just by his status changing from "In a relationship" to "Single".
I know.
I was using him too.
I mean, I liked him and all... but I don't think I ever liked him. You know what they say, hindsight is always 20/20. The idea of being liked by someone like him (or anyone for that matter) and what it would do for me socially, was what really kept me in that relationship. I hardly knew him to tell you the truth, and though I'd share with him all about me, like he was prince charming and I was sleeping beauty, he never seemed to listen... or care. Most of our time was spent making out in front of school where no one seemed to care about what we were doing... or in a dark corner somewhere where no one would ever see what we were doing. I never liked to hide it, but I know he did.
So, this is your best friend. I got used for sex. And I used him for fame. Charming, aren't I?
God I must sound so pathetic to you by now, but I'm writing this to you because you're my best friend... and I have no one else to go to. Sometimes I hear your voice in my head telling me what I should do during the hard times in my life... I hear you say "Pray, God is always listening." I rarely ever did take that advice... my parents don't really believe in God and neither do I. But you know what? On this occasion, I actually did. I actually prayed.
I remember when your parents were going through their divorce, though it was really tough on you, you would pray and cry with tears rolling down your eyes, asking Jesus for hope. Even when your younger brother committed suicide, and you felt so powerless to do anything, you still had hope. I mean at one point it was you counseling me over what happened instead of the other way around! And honestly, I admired you for it. I don't know how you did it, but I wish I could do it too.
Sometimes I still wonder if there's something grand waiting for me... if there's a hope I didn't find yet or didn't see through all the bulls**t. But I don't know if I can just turn around and start believing like you... and the sad thing is, even after having everything I thought I wanted, and finding out it wasn't as gratifying as it looked, I'm still here wondering when my life will radiate with hope and great things like your life seems to do for you. I know I've never asked you this before, but seeing how I even admitted to you that thing about those "popular" kids at school... I figure this can't be as embarrassing or as pride swallowing as that. And you totally don't have to do this if you don't want to... but, I was just wondering, as my best friend, since it's my birthday...
Could you pray for me?
-Your best friend
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