The Great Conflict in Society

Ministry is a hard thing.  It reaps the joys of seeing people experience positive change in their lives, but it also struggles and suffers through the arrogance and intolerance of difficult people.  In my personal life, nothing rocks my boat harder than hate talk.  I can disagree with someone and still love, value, and respect that person.  I have done it often.

However, there are also people out there who are not about finding common ground.  They are not interested in a conversation where each side hears the other.  Their focus seems to be only to push their opinions on others with no intention of changing their minds.  They are not there to respect others, they are there to throw rocks so that they might feel more secure about their own views.

To be honest, I have been guilty of doing such things.  I have entered a conversation with the sole purpose of throwing my "Jesus comment" in there and shunning all else that is said.  I have approached many conversations with the wrong motives and have dug deep holes that strained relationships for the sake of me getting my 2 cents in.  I am not happy about those instances.

When I read Scripture, I never see Jesus having an argument.  I see Him having conversations.  I see Him listening to others and meeting them where they are.  I see Him putting love first, corrective teaching second.  And I am guilty of not always following that model.

You see, we like to get caught up in this tolerance vs. intolerance war.  Some people have the mindset of "I support tolerance so much, I cannot tolerate your intolerance".  Others approach the scene with a "whatever you say" attitude and don't make a stand for anything.  I don't believe the path that Jesus took was one that completely accepted any cultural side.  The Jesus I know tolerated the people around Him enough to eat with them, hang out with them, talk with them, travel with them, and stay in their homes.

This same Jesus, however, was so intolerant of their sin that He died to give them freedom from it.  To give us freedom.  I am beginning to understand that Jesus tolerated people enough to love them and meet them where they were, but He wasn't tolerant enough to let them go on hopeless and condemned.

Here in America, we get wrapped up in tolerating others and living at peace with each other so much that it feels like sometimes Christians have comfortably exiled themselves to stereotypes. The Christian community is known to be hypocritical, intolerant, judgmental, and hateful.  Are we so?  Sometimes...but Jesus broke through the stereotypes placed on Him.  He lived radically in a way that those around Him, even "church folk" had no idea what to do with Him.

There is a conflict in society.  There will always be people pushing to be accepted.  And there will always be people trying to bar the gates against them.   Humanity has always been this way.  Even in the days when Jesus walked the earth, these cultural conflicts were happening.  What I never saw was Jesus taking sides.  Jesus abided in one place; the will of God.

My prayer for myself and the Christians of my generation is that we would remember the example Jesus set.  He stood for truth, He lived out love, and He broke through cultural stereotypes.  Jesus was not a hater.  But He made a stand when a stand was called for.  He was courageous.  He did not push His own agenda, but only did what He saw the Father doing.  

I cannot say that I do the same.  I am guilty of jumping into a conversation to enforce my opinions and strike out against someone who is, in my mind, speaking foolishly.  I am guilty of trying to correct someone before I love them.  I am guilty of being hateful and intolerant in some areas.  I am also guilty of being too tolerant and remaining passive when someone ought to make a stand for something.  Jesus did not lead a ministry that was focused on the cultural opinion.  If I am to follow Jesus as a Christ follower should, I cannot get caught up in these things either.

Fighting The Camp High

I apologize for not posting lately.  This is largely due to the fact that I have been out of town this week.  I got the great opportunity to go and serve as a leader in my youth group as we went away to Tennessee for church camp.  Now, this is not my first time going to camp with a youth group.  This was, however, my first Student Life Camp, and honestly the first camp I'd been to in several years.

My time in Tennessee did something to me.  I can say in all honesty that I arrived at camp carrying some things and left those burdens behind as we drove off.  In the same way, I arrived at camp empty handed in certain aspects of my life and left camp filled and satisfied. 

Now, if you're familiar with church events and church camps in particular then you might understand the phrase "camp high".  Camp is meant to be an emotional experience that occurs in a new place, hopefully a closed off place where distractions are set aside.  In many ways, camp is a spiritual sanctuary.  Kids feel something during camp that they probably don't feel during their normal or typical church time.  And so often, they get latched onto those feelings and have an emotionally inspired experience that is commonly called "camp high".  They become addicted to those feelings and are drawn to the atmosphere that camp provides. 

There is a problem with camp high, though.  It doesn't last.  We will get caught up in the emotion of worship and the thrill of having thousands of other people singing with us, and being in a place surrounded by our youth group friends 24/7 without outside distractions that we allow our thrill to generate from our surroundings and the atmosphere around us.  The truth, however, is that true and genuine change must occur inside us, not by the energy outside of us.

My prayer for my youth group is that they would not fall victim to the camp high.  I pray against the possibility of days after being home and away from the camp atmosphere they "lose" those feelings.  I pray that the messages that were brought before them were convicting, inspired change, and that they would act on them.  I pray that camp changed them on a deep level, not made them feel good on a surface emotional level.

In fact, that is also my prayer for myself.  I fought a lot with myself at camp this week.  I also wrestled with truths that God was throwing in my face.  Camp, for me, was not about learning new things, but about re-sparking that original sense of awe and amazement at what God has done for me.  Camp was about falling in love with Jesus again; not just serving Him because I should.

Camp high is an ever-present threat.  It would be so easy to allow myself to get caught up in the awesomeness of the week and slowly slip back into old patterns and thought processes that drew me away from closeness to God and His righteousness as camp became more of a distant memory.  I wrestle against myself in sticking to the path that I know is the good road and the only path to abundant life.  I may fall from time to time, but God has grace, knowing my heart and my desire to know Him better. 

I want to see a changed lifestyle in me.  And I know that this kind of change must happen deep inside me; I cannot rely on an emotional high to carry me through the trials and conflicts of life.  The focus of the camp was on being audacious.  For me, it was about being amazed.  In love again.  This is my prayer and the focus of my heart. 

Satan has held me down in many areas of my life for way too long.  I have not held up resistance or fought back for the ground I lost to him.  This...is a rally call for my soul.  I am back.  I am changed.  And I am willing to take the fight to the gates of Hell to snatch back what I so easily surrendered before:  my passion and genuine love for the God that gave up everything for me.

This is a new season in my life.  A new era.  May God use this new man however He sees fit.

Such a Difficult Love

As I am writing this tonight, I am in the midst of a deep emotional struggle.  Tomorrow morning is my father's retirement ceremony.  He will be retiring from the United States Navy after 20 years of service.  I have never known life without my father in the military, so this is a significant event, to say the least.  That, however, is only a piece to the puzzle.

As I have shared in past posts, my father is not the man of my household.  He does not live with us and hasn't done so in going on 2 years now.  My relationship with him is thin, stretched only when he insists we spend time together.  This is because I have lost much respect for him because of what I feel to be a deep betrayal against my family.  That aside, my time with him is awkward because he no longer knows me.  He loves me still and does care about what I do with my life, but he has chosen not to be a part of it.  He has removed himself from my mom's life completely and my sister and I see him from time to time.  He sees my sister more so because she is younger and doesn't have as much of a choice.

All this being said, my family has endured the military life for 20 years as a family.  As one.  My mom, who has supported my father's career longer than anyone else in the world, is not invited to his retirement ceremony.  Not that she'd go if she was invited, but it strikes me hard when I realize that this should be a great and happy day for my family, and yet the only one who is looking forward to it is my father.  Out of respect of his position as my father, and the fact that I have put up with the Navy all my life, I am attending the ceremony along with my sister.

Tonight, as I pick out nice clothes to wear tomorrow, I feel more alone and abandoned by my father than I ever have since the day I watched him drive away almost 2 years ago.  I want to support him and be happy for him in his success, especially feeling that part of it is my success as well...but it is difficult.  This is one of those times when love hurts.

When I was a child, crying was not a normal thing, but it certainly wasn't unheard of.  I had plenty of childhood heartbreaks.  As a teen, those hurts continued, and the tears were still an occasional part of my grieving process. But in recent years, my heart has endured tragedy and betrayal in such a deep way, that is has grown hard.  Tears do not fall often because life's curveballs just don't do much to you after you've watched your father pack his things and drive away with barely an hour's notice. 

But tonight I cry.  Tonight my heart breaks open the way it did when my father left.  Right now, loving my father is the hardest thing I could possibly do.  I want to hate him for being happy in his life, for daring to retire and leave my mom out in the cold when he wouldn't have made it as far as he did without her support.  I want to strangle him for continuing to push himself in my sister's life and forcing her to remain torn between spending time with him and my mom.  I want him to realize how much he has belittled himself in my eyes for turning his back on everything he told me was expected of a man.  My dad is long gone and I am left with a shell of who he once was.

It is for this shell of a man that I go tomorrow to "celebrate".  I am torn on the inside and tomorrow I shall wear the saddest smile I have ever faked.  I will shake hands with all my father's coworkers and new buddies that I have never met and thank them for coming.  I shall hug my distant relatives on his side of the family who I was never close to and tell them I'm glad to see them.  I will look after my sister who will also suffer a great sense of loneliness and be the big brother she needs me to be.  I will love my father and fake it for his sake, though he deserves nothing from me at this point. 

This is the most difficult love I have ever felt.  I go to support, smile, and celebrate with the source of the greatest pain I have ever experienced.  I've been cut before, but never have I been expected to bare my chest and take the blows with a smile.

I can only pray that one day my father realizes what it is I suffer for him tomorrow.  He does not truly know what he asks of me and my sister.  But this is showing me that the reality of my father never coming back is a very possible reality and its time to stop waiting on him to come take up his responsibility again.  My house needs a man to lead it and my mom should not have to carry this burden alone.  It is time for me to step up.  To take my father's place...


If you had told me when we still lived in Virginia that in 2 years, I would be trying to shoulder the responsibilities that the man of the house is expected to bear, I wouldn't have believed you.  For the first time, I can grasp the realities of what Christ went through on the cross, offering Himself up for those He loved, even as they insulted, hurt, and refused to trust Him.  I know that Jesus knows this pain and betrayal and I shall draw close to Him in this.

This is such a difficult love...but Jesus endured, and so I push on.  And I know I can endure even more than what I've been given.  Time to rise up as a man and stretch my breaking point.  My family needs me.

How hard are you willing to love?

The Worthy King

We have many names for God.  We call Him a great number of things, and many of them are true.  We call Him Lord, for He is indeed the master and one who has full authority.  We call Him Father, for it is true that He has adopted believers into His family and we have been made children of God according to the truth of Scripture.  We call Him our Savior, for the great news of Scripture is that Christ stepped down from the throne to save us from eternal separation from Him!  We also call Him our Provider, our Protector, even our Friend.  All of these are true.  But there is one title that has always stood out to me.  I believe it is meant to stand out.  God is, above all else, our King.

Revelation 19 calls Him the "King of all kings and Lord of all lords".  In my heart, I know that all too often I am quite comfortable with God being my Provider, my Savior, my Friend.  These are things in which God is doing something for me.  He is providing for me, saving me, befriending me.  It is easy to get cozy feelings from these things.  But to proclaim Him to be my Lord and King, is something that takes on a different meaning.  No longer is God seen to be serving me, but now such a title implies that I serve Him.  There is a different weight to such a title.

My understanding of this continues to grow with each day, but I can see clearly from Scripture that Christ is my King first, all else second.  That is to say, if I am openly rebelling against Him, there are benefits I will miss out on.  Christ, being the just and right King that He is, does not reward wickedness.  He does not tolerate sin.  You don't have to look any further than the cross to see confirmation about that.  For you see, Christ's work on the cross was not just about how much He loves us, but also about just how far He is willing to go to slam the door on sin.  It was for the sake of love that He died.  It was the for the sake of justice that He rose again and re-claimed His place at the right hand of God.

Jesus Christ is King and upholds His righteousness and perfection.  And He rewards His servants who follow hard after Him and pursue those virtues.  And when we fall in our pursuit of those things, He offers us grace, knowing we will never be perfect on this side of eternity. However, when we stray away and pursue others gods and idols, we fall away from right standing with the King!  He does not stop loving us and He does not withhold His grace in allowing us back into the fold when we return to His presence, but He cannot bless us, teach us, or use us in the way He desires to when we are not chasing after His goodness.

It is starting to sink into my heart and my soul about the real depth of what it means that Christ is my King.  When He commands something of me, it is not the authority of a college professor.  It is not merely an educated suggestion or a wise opinion counseling me.  It is my King commanding me!

 I have been on a kick about choices on this blog lately.  This post ties right on in.  If I am serious about Christ being King, then when the King commands, the servant listens.  The consequences for disobedience are serious, though we like to ignore that part.  God is not a tyrant, but He upholds justice and demands obedience.  And is He not worthy and deserving of such loyalty?  As if creating the universe was not enough to make Him worthy of worship, He also stepped between us and the punishment due to us, paid that debt, and then created a bridge to Himself where there once was a gap.  He made it possible for us to know Him personally and be His kin, when before His act on our behalf, we were His enemies!  Yes, He is worthy to be King and He is worthy of our lives and our obedience.

When I "became saved" as we like to call it in our Christian vocabulary, I made a confession of Jesus being my Lord and Savior.  Scripture teaches that the two titles go hand-in-hand.  If Jesus saved me, then He is my Lord.  If He is my Lord, then I am saved.  It is dangerous to believe that Jesus is your Savior if you do not express Him as Lord.

If He is my Lord, then I owe Him loyalty as a servant owes his King the same loyalty.  There is no room for a lukewarm "God is King on Sundays, but the rest of week I am my own person" mindset.  And yet so many Christians are comfortable living this way.  When the Israelites of the Old Testament fell into that mindset, their loyalties became divided.  They didn't cast God out, but they made Him compete with other things.  When this happened, He would allow them to fall into captivity and become prisoners of their enemies until they laid aside their idols and worshiped Him alone.  the 21st Century American Christian cannot imagine God doing something like to them and so they are comfortable not giving Christ their absolute loyalty and obedience.  They are okay putting on a mask for Sunday mornings and then living however they desire the rest of the time.  I fear that when Christ returns to claim His own, many of those people will be alarmed when God does not count them among His own!  The Body of Christ is no place for hypocrites and the half-committed.

To conclude, knowing that Jesus is King should have some weight to it in our lives.  There should be a reverence for God, who freed us and allowed us the Honor of serving Him and being a part of His family.  There should be a joy for those same reasons.  There should also be a careful study of God's commands and a seeking of His character so that we might serve Him faithfully.  If you do not revere God, find your joy in Him, or study His word to better know Him and know His commands, then Christ is probably not your King.  You are probably still enslaved to Satan and your own sin nature.  Invite Jesus to come and break you free from that.  Let Him be King.

We will always have a master.  Someone will always be acting as king over us.  But there is only one worthy King.  Serve Him and live abundantly. 

The Man in the Mirror

Have you ever walked past a mirror, saw the reflection of yourself out of the corner of your eye and had to do a double-take because you didn't recognize yourself?  Well last night I experienced something like that.  It was probably around 3:00 or 3:30am and I went into the bathroom for a drink of water.  While pouring my cup, I looked up in the mirror and saw the reflection of myself.

It has been said that the eyes are the windows to your soul...well, I'll admit it; I leaned in and looked myself in the eye, my face only a foot away from the mirror and stared for about 10 minutes.  I know what I look like, but for a moment, I thought I glimpsed who I was.  I stared as deep into my own eyes as one could possibly stare, strangely anxious for answers.

You see, there is something inside of me that few have the discernment to see.  The potential man I can become.  I look inside myself and I see the potential for greatness.  I see a destiny that God has laid out for me and I see myself striving for righteousness through obedience to His commands.  I see a strong warrior for the cause of Christ.  A man of God.

Then a moment passes and I can see someone completely different even as I stare into the same face.  I see a villain.  A destructive, selfish, and perverted man.  I see the potential for me to turn my back on God, on my beliefs, and on those who love me.  I see a hollow shell of the person God intended for me to be. 

The road to becoming a man is not a well-marked one for me, especially in light of the fact that my own father chose to step out of my family circle and pursue his own interests.  I was raised being told that living a certain way was important and then when I become old enough to seriously pursue manhood and had secured a higher level of independence, my father turned his back on the very lifestyle he had raised me to believe in.

This is not to say I walk alone.  But it is to say that I have seen firsthand that we get a choice in life and those choices leave a mark.  I'll be honest, I had lived a lifetime under the guidance of godly father who acted honorably and with integrity.  And with one destructive decision, he wiped that from my memory.  I no longer remember what its like to have my father live in the same house as me.  In fact, if I try to imagine what it'd be like to wake up tomorrow morning to my father eating breakfast in the kitchen, that thought seems out of place.  Foreign.

 My father made his choice.  His lifetime of good was swept away in a day.  And even now, he has the potential to come back around.  To repair what he chose to destroy.  To take hold of what he willingly laid down.  To become a man of God again, not the shell of who he used to be.  It hit me hard last night.  Something simple.  Something I already knew in my head, but not in my heart.  I must choose who I become.

The man in the mirror that I spent 10 minutes staring at was both the villain and the hero of my future.  Within me, I saw darkness.  Anger and bitterness.  I also saw light.  I saw love and compassion.  Patience and a kind smile.  I have potential, indeed.  But which part of me to feed?

I do not walk through life alone.  But in choosing what kind of man I become, that is something I alone can do.  You cannot make that choice for me.  My mother cannot make that choice for me.  My pastor cannot choose which path I take.  By God's grace, the devil himself cannot choose what I become.

Every one of us has potential.  You have the potential for evil or the potential for good.  The choice is yours to make and to stick to day by day.  I have seen myself in the mirror.  I have seen what is within me.  And as my namesake said, as for me and my house...we shall serve the Lord.

I am Joshua Allan Ramos. The man in the mirror is me.  And while I accept that there is darkness in my heart, I make the hard choice to resist it.  To wage war on it.  To pursue Christ and the righteousness He offers me.  I seek to be a man of God.  That is my choice.  I pray to stick by that decision and work hard to uphold my honor and the name of the Lord my God.  I pray that I never give up on this quest, never yield the road to the villain within me, or that I abandon the code I am choosing to live by.  This is my oath of faith.  This is who I am choosing to become.

Who will you choose to become?

What to do About Westboro Baptist Church

 Below is my good friend and dear brother in Christ's blog post.  It was so good and mind turning that I felt the need to share it:

"There's a lot going on in the world right now. Heck, just America is a stressful place right now. But among the confusion and chaos, I want to look at something that pops up ever so often nowadays: Westboro.

When they first came out of the woodwork, you knew about it. Drawn signs of "God hates fags.," or "Pray for more dead soldiers.," flooded the media channels and stations that would continuously play the same clips of protestors at soldiers funerals.

And I must admit, I jumped in the bandwagon of "Anti-Westboro." But before I go any further, I must make it explicitly clear that I, in no way, agree with them or the message that they express. Now continuing on...Like the rest of America, I became infuriated with a people who would take the name of God, His Son, and His Spirit and drag them through the mud, using them to claim their own message instead of the story, life, and love of Christ.

But while in my storm of fury and fist shaking, there was a different thought that crossed my mind: Pray for Westboro.

And over time, that transformed from praying for them, to love them. And in that exact moment, God took everything He is, was, and will be, and smacked me across the face with it. In all my anger and fury I had built up towards them, I had forgotten the one most important lesson that I was taught for so many years before Westboro: Love the Lord your God; and *love* thy *neighbor* as *thyself*.

Love.

Yes, they have misdirection. Yes, they distort everything Christ. Will I be in their face given the chance I ever see them in person, absolutely! But if I forget to pray for them and love them like Christ loves you and me, then I'm not really any better than who they are.

There's the challenge. Is it accepted?"

What will you do with such a challenge?  Should Westboro stand alone in their confusion?  Shall we block them out and allow them to strike more wounds against the heart and soul of the American people?

We have a spiritual duty to our brothers and sisters in Christ to restore them and come alongside them and pull the knife from their hands with love and gentleness.  Isolating them does not solve the issue.  Is it not time that American Christians stopped being comfortable with passivity and watching from a distance?

We are at war, friends.  But our war is not against each other, but against the forces of Hell.  Satan would have us divided and hating each other.  He could not operate the same with a united body of Christ standing guard.  Are we willing to humble ourselves and love hard enough to strive for unity?

How will you answer my friend's challenge?  How will you answer the call of God?

The Human Rebound

 This past weekend, Pensacola suffered the 3rd wettest day of its history and the wettest day since 1979.  Many parts of the city were flooded and pictures circulated around the nation of parking lots that were supposed to be full of cars and you could barely see the top of the cars in all the water.  One of the more commonly circulated pictures was that of a Burger King that was flooded.  There was no parking lot.  And it was just as wet inside the building as it was outside it.  Then, as I was driving past it today, just two days after all the flooding, I saw it was open for business.  It has a yellow warning tape on some parts of the building and I'm sure the structure took on some water damage, but just a few days after the ordeal, it was "back on its feet".

This got me thinking about how people also were created to bounce back.  Our souls were forged from tougher stuff than bricks.  We can face tragedy and endure.  Like the Burger King, we do not bounce back fully operational...life leaves its scars.  It leaves its wounds.  But we limp on anyway.

The Human Rebound, I'm calling it.  Our innate capacity to recover and press on through circumstances.  There is no universal breaking point among humans.  There is no exact place in our lives where none of us can no longer move on.  In fact, I am finding that when we as individuals come to a place of breaking and giving up on hope and life itself, its because we made a choice to.  At some point, we concluded that it was in our best interest to roll up into a ball rather than live life.  We decided that the only option we had left was to stop trying and the absence of that effort would spare us pain, suffering, and agony.  

But you and I are made from stern stuff.  Our souls were created to be unyielding, unrelenting, and unstoppable.  Only the Creator Himself could tame us.  I believe that is our origin.  And slowly, since the days of Eden, humanity has drifted from its divine heritage.  We have sank deeper into a dark abyss and have forgotten our beginnings.  We like to start the beginning of human history in Genesis 3, not Genesis 1.  We are broken vessels because of sin, yes, but the blood of Christ redeems us! 

The Human Rebound is our heritage; our birthright as adopted children of God.  We have the divine calling to rise up and live hard.  All people have the instinctive drive to press onward.  But without a great hope, how can we hold out?  Jesus Christ is that great hope.  And salvation through faith in Christ secures our calling to endure, to bounce back, to rebound.  

When I examine my own life and the lives of the Christians around me, I do not see the rebounding spirit I wish I could see.  I see myself giving ground to the enemy when I ought to be fighting back and holding on.  I should be tightening my grip when things get heated.  I can worry about the blisters later.  I cling to a greater Hope.  I am without excuse.

We are without excuse.  There is no tragedy too great for us to give up on the life that God has specifically and purposefully set before us.  That is not to say that we do not hurt or that we do not suffer.   But when life gets too heated for us to handle, we must not make giving up an option.  

You are called to greatness.  You have been designed for a purpose.  Do not forsake that. The Lord is our refuge, our rock, and our shelter.  He is our King, our Redeemer, our Provider, and our Friend.  God covers all the bases for us.  He watches our backs even as He paves the road ahead of us.  We are not without help.  We are not without hope.

If you are my brother or sister in Christ, remember your heritage.  Do not forget the One who set you free from chains that were beyond your power.  You must not give up on God.  He will pull you through; keep trusting Him.

Rebound. Again and again...as many times as it takes.  Never give up your right to live.

Rebound.

Passion and Discipline

Extremes are dangerous things.  They, by their very nature, off balance us, and cause us to see reality one-sided.  If as Christians and warriors of God, we are to strive for a divine perspective of life, we must strive for balance and being well rounded.

That being said, it could be noted that my posts as of late have been geared towards a more passion-driven side.  A call to get up and fight with courage and honor has been sounded more than once recently on this blog.  However, there is more to living victoriously than looking at life from a barbaric and wild point of view.  While being driven by passion is vital, it is not the ultimate goal.  Again, extremes are dangerous.

So today, I feel the urge to introduce the other necessary factor involved with living the Christian life courageously and victoriously.  Alongside your passion, you must have discipline.

Christians are not meant to be like beasts, mindless and driven only by instinct.  There must be intelligence and purpose behind our actions; a discipline of our mind and body.

Passion is the fuel and discipline is the steering wheel.  Both are necessary.  One without the other is useless.  As we go about life, we must be diligent to check ourselves in this.

As before, I am sounding a call for Christians to rise up and hold ground for the kingdom of God.  In this generation, issues like same-sex marriage, abortion, and validity of God’s existence are all thrown into question.  The world is not right in the head and Christians must take a stand and have a voice.  However, while making a stand on the truth is essential, we must do it tactfully and intelligently.  We are not mindless brutes, we are ambassadors for Christ.  We proclaim His name and bear His Spirit.  We cannot act thoughtlessly.  Passion plus discipline.

Balance is a difficult thing.  Some of us may be overly passionate and lack discipline.  Others have plenty of discipline, but are not passionately engaged in reaching others.  It is time we focused on employing both and become a body of Christ that moves forward in boldness, but also in wisdom. 

Where is your struggle?  Is it in having a passion for the ministry God is calling you towards?  Or is it in having discipline and tact while ministering to the people God puts in your path?  Strive for balance.  The Lord Jesus demonstrated both in His ministry.  Seek to imitate. 

Circles of Influence

There is something I am concerned about.  Well, there are many things, but this is one of the giants that have shadowed my thoughts as of late.  The horror of what is becoming has finally reared its ugly head to the point of me being able to openly address it in my own life.  My hope and prayer is that you will be able to relate with my situation and we may seek out a solution together.

Being a “Navy brat”, I am used to having a few good friends for short periods of time.  Over the course of 20 years, I’ve had several best friends, many close friends, and I daresay 100s of acquaintances.  In fact, most of them I keep up with on Facebook.

I remember a time after I had been settled in Virginia for many long years when I had many friends and I kept up with each of them as best as I could.  I cared about everyone.  I had a large circle of influence over those I interacted with.

As the years have gone by, I have seen this slip in my social life.  I have become less invested, even interested in the lives and troubles of others.  I still have a group of close friends, and I am ever loyal to that small circle of people.  But what I have realized looking back is that I once had a bigger circle of people I was loyal to.  I once cared more about many instead of caring more about few as I do today.

My influence has lessened.  My passion for people has dwindled.  When I try to pinpoint how exactly this happened, I can safely conclude that things in my personal life spun out of balance and I became socially selfish and spiritually introverted.  I closed up my walls and locked the doors while I did some repairs emotionally.

In the process of doing that, I became less concerned for others.  I became hardened to the struggles of others because I was dealing with my own junk.  Over the past few years, I have become hard hearted and cold towards the suffering of others because of the ordeal that I myself had suffered. 

But this is not an excuse worth hiding behind.  I used to be a trustworthy companion.  I used to lead by example and be the friend to many.  In short, I used to love people.  And now I see myself only loving my friends.  Jesus had something to say about that. “If you are kind only to your friends, how are you different from anyone else? Even pagans do that” (Matthew 5:47).

I have some heart changing that I need to do.  I have not loved selflessly and made myself truly available for the people in my life in a long time.  I can feel myself becoming a shell of who I used to be.  This has got to end.

There is a scene from the movie 10,000 BC, in which an elder warrior is explaining to a younger man with a great destiny before him what it means to be great.  Here’s what Tic’Tic says:

“A good man draws a circle around himself and cares for those within.  His woman, his children.
 Other men draw a larger circle and bring within their brothers and sisters. But some men have a great destiny. They must draw around themselves a circle that includes many, many more.  Your father was one of those men. You must decide for yourself whether you are, as well.”

The fact is, it is expected of us as social creatures to take care of those within our circle.  But a greater person is the one who draws a larger circle around himself and draws as many into it as can possibly fit.  I used to draw larger circles than I do now.

I am called to draw large circles and care for those within.  I am called to leadership.  I am called to bravery.  I am called to serve the Lord and the souls He puts in my path. 

I am not called to close in my walls and invite in only a few and offer no love or help to others.  I am not called to form my own little social club and bar the gates so that no other can enter.  And yet this is what I have done, in a way.  For someone who spent years in service to those around me and seeing God work through that and finding true joy and contentment out of that love and service, there is shame in the coldness I feel towards others today.

The challenge God has laid at my feet and I am throwing at your feet as well is this:  have you allowed the pain and suffering of your own life to shrink your circle of influence among your friends?  Have you allowed your own trials to stop you from being a bright light of hope and love towards those who you interact with?  Today is the day to end the selfish social game.  Today is the day to start serving and truly seeing the people around you.

I’m going to call my brother out onto the floor again as I did in my last post.  We are men.  We are not dominate or better than others, but we have been called to a role of leadership.  That role requires service and love towards others.  Just as good king loves his land and his people, a good leader must love his followers and serve them above himself.  A good man must draw a large circle around himself and lovingly invite all to enter into it.  Tear down your walls of self pity, prejudice, and selfishness today.  All are worthy of your time, your smile, and your service.  Take up the mantle of manhood that Christ calls us towards and open up to the people around us.

What does your circle of influence look like?  It is large and open to many people, or has it shrunk over the years and do you now only trust a few with your time and love?  Examine your heart and make the change if a change needs to be made.  So God has spoken to my soul and so I have declared it to you. 

A Rally Call For Guys!

I did not sleep much last night.  In fact, I went to bed around 7:00am.  Just before I finally crashed into a coma, I had the clearest thought…the clearest realization about myself.  I want to be the epic hero that I see in the movies, but that’s not who I am.  Why is that? 

Why do I even watch movies in the first place?  Why do I have this need to be entertained?  You see, it takes a very specific thing to entertain me.  I have to be moved.  Most often, I watch action/adventure movies with a hero who is given a difficult challenge that seems impossible to overcome.  I hold my breath when they’re on the edge of failing, and cheer for them when they walk out alive and victorious.  Hollywood is filled with stories like this. 

But to return to my question, why am I drawn to movies like that?  Could it be that my very soul was designed to be in that kind of an epic role?  Could God have created me for the purpose of throwing myself up against the difficulties in life and overcoming them?  Could it be that my life is meant to be as entertaining as the best that Hollywood can offer?

My favorite movie characters are all men.  They all have characteristics that I wish I had myself, whether I admit it or not.  Aragorn from Lord of the Rings resisted the temptation of Sauron’s ring and let Frodo go on alone.  Persevering, he faced impossible obstacles and held out against the greatest of evils.  Though he had at first chosen exile, he eventually faced what he was meant to become and accepted his role as king and leader.  He made the ultimate difference.

Then there’s Balian, son of Godfrey in Kingdom of Heaven.  We find him at the end of the film holding the burning city of Jerusalem against thousands of Muslim soldiers.  The other leaders have long abandoned the city, yet Balian remains behind trying to save the people.  I get chills every time I watch the enemy swarm into a breach in the wall and Balian and his soldiers bravely stand guard and fight them back for hours and hours. 

Balian and Aragorn are just two of my heroes.  I have many.  And each time I watch a film like that, I find myself needing the hero to win.  I need him to be victorious no matter what it costs him.  I have this need in the deepest corner of my soul to see good triumph and evil flee.  So I pursue and obsess over any sort of entertainment in which I can quench that thirst.

Here’s what I have realized.  God put that thirst there.  But He didn’t put it there so I could enjoy movies where the good guys win and the bad guys die.  He put it there to drive me forward in living out His purpose.

Now we’ve got a problem.  If this innate desire to overcome evil and be “heroic” comes from God, why am I so keen to sit down on the couch and watch someone else live out my dreams on a TV screen and not live it myself?

I am passive.  Like most men in this twisted American culture, I have become dull and tolerant.  I am more content watching a movie about a hero than actually being that hero to the people around me.

When did this become okay?  Such atrocity should have never become the norm in our society.  It is time for me to rise up and become the man I thirst to be, but am too weak to risk becoming. 

I am all too familiar with the hardships involved in being strong.  It is much easier to be weak.  Hollywood depicts being the hero in movies like 300.  We watch in awe as 300 men fight off thousands and thousands of men for days.  Hopelessly outnumbered, they don’t stand a chance.  Yet they fight anyway. 

It is so easy to say that I want to be like that here in the comfort of my bedroom, but when push comes to shove, could I really join the ranks of the 300 and wage a war I could not win?  Do I have that kind of strength in me?  That kind of courage?

Most men do not.  And I am becoming sick of being one of the many who will never get up from their couch and become the kind of men they find so entertaining.

This is a rally call for the guys.  I will not pretend to understand woman, but I know the heart and soul of a man and I feel the quench to be great like all men do.  And I know what God calls me to be.  I am called to leadership.  To wage war against a spiritual enemy far older, more experienced, and more frightening than any enemy ever seen in a movie.  And my very soul and future is at risk.  There is not room for me to be passive.  There is not room for us to be passive.

Guys.  We are called to be men.  Leaders of nations.  Heads of the households.  The loyal friends.  The loving brothers.  Elite soldiers in a kingdom too great to be imagined.  This is the destiny laid before us. We are all called to be heroes.  Warriors.  Brave and honorable. 

Aragorn, Balian, Maximus (Gladiator), King Arthur.  Men such as these are only giants in our entertainment industry because American men do not have stories and lives to rival them.

This is it, guys.  A call to arms against a passive lifestyle.  An empty lifestyle.  Let’s go. 

Late Night Reflections: The Barbarian Inside Me

Here I am, pacing like a lion anxious for the kill.  Passion, fury, anxiety…they engulf me.  Consume my thoughts.  I long for days of warriors again.  We have soldiers, but the day of the warrior is dead.  Where did they go?  It seems like the only place left to look for the brave soul of a warrior is backwards into the halls of history.  What about today?  What about the fighting spirit that beats against the cage of my heart threatening to break loose?

Here I am, my hands finding every weapon within sight.  The broadsword feels strong in my hands.  Its weight not a barrier, but an addition to the strength I feel growing in my veins.  My Roman sword, light and strong, I whip it around with flashes of speed, seeking a target.  The Katana has a familiar weight, I swing it with precision and comfort, having trained in its arts for years.

I wield my weapons like a madman ready for war.  My heart refuses to stop pounding in my ears and my blood boils.   I feel my strength grow in intensity and my yearning to leap and run about digs deep.  There is a gleam in my eye and a fire in my soul that I do not know what to do with.  It runs deep, an intimate part of my very being.

The consuming need to fight.  To throw myself at another to test my skills and my heart.  I yearn for it in a way I have not yearned in a long time.  Long has my discipline held, my resilience to the call to arms.  And yet now I feel as though my heart was caught by surprise as I arm myself to the teeth, my flesh has become steel and my heart burns for conflict.

Simply, I am a man.  Worst still, I am human.   A complex web of emotions, passions, and desires that drive me forward until my days end and I rejoin the dust of the earth.  I do not pretend to understand my nature, only that I must be myself.  I cannot resist my own soul.  And my soul desires to be tested, for my body to be made war upon. 

Is this the Barbarian Way I have so long pondered?  To not just endure fear, but to seek it?  Only a madman pursues his doom and yet every fiber of my being seeks to be confronted and overcome.  Only that I might face the odds and conqueror.  Or die.  Neither outcome frightens me.  And yet both frighten me. 

I look around in my life for the warriors of my generation.  I seek and search and I see domesticated men.  I see passive souls.  I see fear and unwillingness.  I see selfishness and cowardliness. I do not see honor in my generation.  I do not see brave, untamable souls set on fire for a road of purpose and passion. 

I wish I could live my whole life within this spark of vigor.  Even now I feel it dwindling.  Seeping out of the pores of my skin like water in my hand.  There is no containing it.  I cannot even begin to grasp it.  Where does my passion so earnestly flee to?  And how might I take it captive?  I need my soul back.  Not this hollow shell of domestic living.  I was created as a man.  As a warrior with a burning soul.  A soul burning with the spirit and passion of God almighty. 

I see what I could become.  And yet I see where I still remain.  Am I unmovable in my weakness?  In my love for being passive and small?  Lord, set fire to my bones and let them never cease to burn.  Let my passion never be quenched and the warrior inside me never sleep.    

The Early Church: Back to our Roots

To get a completely fair and unbiased view about the church, let’s take a look at its history; starting at the very beginning with the Book of Acts.  It all starts in Chapter 2.  We see the Apostles gathered together at the temple in worship when suddenly, the Holy Spirit comes and fills them!  I find it interesting that in the Old Testament when we see the Holy Spirit work, we see that it “comes upon” never that it “fills within”.  For the first time in history, we see the Spirit of God coming to dwell within men.  This is the beginning spark of a blazing fire.  Upon being filled with the Spirit of God, the Apostles begin to speak to each other in other languages so that all in the temple could hear and understand them! (Acts 2:4)

And yet here, at the very beginnings of the church, we see opposition.  In verse 13, it reads “Some, however, made fun of them and said, ‘They have had too much wine.’”  Really?  A group of uneducated guys get up in the middle of the worship service and start speaking to each other in multiple languages and you call them drunk?  “For the wisdom of this world is foolishness in God's sight” (1 Corinthians 3:19). 

Anyway, following this, we know that Peter gets up to speak before the crowd who, is at this point, a little freaked out.  He quotes the prophet Joel and then proceeds to share the Gospel of Jesus Christ.  When his audience heard this, “they were cut to the heart and said to Peter and the other Apostles, ‘Brothers, what shall we do?’”  Peter instructed them to repent and trust in Jesus as their Lord and Savior.  Peter promised them that upon their confession, they too, would receive the Holy Spirit.  We learn that about 3,000 people trusted in Jesus and were filled with the Holy Spirit that day.  (Acts 2:41)

So this is the beginnings of the church.  What happens from there?  They had no buildings, no organized doctrine other than the very words of Jesus, and were not respected, or even acknowledged by their society!  We know from the end of Acts 2 that the believers banded together, becoming their own private community and selling their possessions and sharing with among another.  They were in the truest sense, a family.

When I think of my “church family”, I think of a group of people I see once or twice a week and put on my “church face” to and not really share any of my problems.  They might know what passage of the Bible I’m reading that week, but I keep them out of my private life, my private sins, and my deepest fears.  All too often, the church never sees more than a mask.  And people wear masks well.  How do we cut through those lies and deceptions?  Well the early church literally lived among each other.  They experienced life together.  They were a family in a deeper way than even their blood families. It was not unheard of then, just as it is common now, for only one member of a family to become saved and join the Body of Christ.  This spiritual salvation and change in lifestyle could easily isolate someone from their blood family, whose priorities have yet to change.  So in many ways, the church was the only real family some of these people had.  And the body of believers took that responsibility seriously.

Throughout the Book of Acts, we see the community of believers growing, experiencing opposition, and yet still growing.  Something that made them unique that I don’t see in church today is this particular verse: “All the believers were one in heart and mind.  No one claimed that any of his possessions were his own, but they shared everything they had.” (Acts 4:32)

What if we did church like that?  The unity and fellowship the church shared during this time period is what accelerated its growth in the spirit as well as numbers.  Early on, we see a committed community of people who were passionately opposed to the society they dwelled in.  They were not just a part of, they WERE a radical movement that was in conflict with their Jewish and Gentile neighbors. 

I’ll stop here.  I want to devote a whole separate post to the church being a radical movement.

Intro: What is Church?

What do you think of when you hear about “the church”?  Whether that be your local church or the Body of Christ as a whole?  Honestly, being raised in a family and environment where church was okay, if not normal, I do not get a tingly excited feeling when I think about the church.  In fact, I think back on my Southern Baptist understanding and association with “church” and I get a bunch of well dressed and well-behaved people sitting up straight in pews or very uncomfortable chairs listening to an older and wiser man preach from a pulpit that is usually twice his size.

When I think of the church doing stuff, I think of potlucks, a game of flag football in the park, mission trips, or doing yard work in a neighborhood as a youth group.  And when I consider what the church is within society, I see it as part of the community.  A place of peace and grace where with open doors inviting people in to meet Jesus and change their lives so they can fit in with the rest of the well-dressed and well-behaved people.  And I’d like to think that is a fairly accurate and okay view of the church.

I have felt a great sense of unrest recently about my views and associations with the church, its people, and its purpose recently.  I hate and reject the notion that church is for the elder and the civilized and that a wild young man with dreams of swords, kingdoms, and an epic adventure is out of place on Sunday mornings. And yet, when I look around at my generation whose life is consumed by Call of Duty video games, dating, and being popular, I can see why so many find the idea of Sunday School to be unappealing. 

I have struggled with this.  Does church have to stop being “church” or do the teens have to grow up and extend their priorities?  I have attended churches with dead or even nonexistent youth groups and I have attended churches with youth groups huge in number, and yet small in spiritual growth.  Of course, there are always exceptions to the rule.  I hope to one day witness a group of people my age who, as the majority in a group, are working fervently and passionately for God within and outside the church.

But what is it that is lacking in this situation?  Is it the church refusing to cater to a new generation or is it a new generation feeling that church is old, irrelevant, and dry?  Perhaps it is both.

I am coming to a revelation about what the church used to be, is meant to be, and what it sometimes is in America.  As a young adult, I am greatly familiar with the interests, dreams, and desires, of teenagers, especially guys.  And I have a great desire to see young people my age and younger to truly be excited about church.  But truthfully, if all the people my age see in church is a Sunday Morning service where they have to dress nice, behave, and sit still…and then the occasional community project on the weekends, they will miss the point of church. 

In this short series, I will be posting my passions in life as a young man, and how I see the church, and more specifically, Christ, bringing that out in me.  I see church as a way maker, not an obstacle to achieving my great dreams and purposes in life.  I know that most people my age do not share this view though.  In fact, my generation is hostile against church, religion, the very idea of God.  And until people my age see church as something beyond boring or just tolerable, I fear greatly for the future generations and the heritage Christians will leave behind.

So again, what is the church?  I look forward to exploring this concept in my next post.

Changes in 2012

So I haven't really posted much of anything in the past several months.  The last thing I wrote was a re-post of something and that was way back in October 2011.  It is time for me to get off my butt and write again.  Not because I necessarily want to...but because I need to.  I have many friends who have taken up daily writing and I see the impact and response they get and it brings me back to the times when I wrote because it was a passion. Life circumstances have really snuffed the fire out of me when it comes to writing and simply expressing myself in general.  But now it is 2012.  I am determining to change.

Lately I have been doing a lot of thinking.  I guess that's what happens when you change to major to a major in Philosophy. Haha.  Anyway, something has really been weighing on me, though I have spent long months putting it off and ignoring it.  My encounters with sin have changed gradually over the past several years of my life.

I remember a day long ago when thinking a thought of hate alarmed and unnerved me.  Now it is all too easy to mutter curses under my breath without a second thought.  I remember when the idea of adultery sickened me.  Now my personal life and social experiences are plagued with it and it has become more normal to me.

Sin, in almost every way, has crept into my lifestyle and has been welcomed openly. Whereas, I was once openly opposed to the idea of sitting in my own misery and filth, it is now all too easy to resist it with my words while embracing it with my actions.

Simply put, I remember when my encounters with sin were conflicts.  Now it is more like a family reunion.  There is not much battling with sin any more...it is more like a massacre.  Sin kicks me around and puts my head on a stick and I stand by dying to my convictions without a sword in my hand.

But now I have determined that needs to stop.  I have just recently turned 20 years old.  I am not a teenager any more.  I cannot afford to be childish or ignorant. What I do with my life matters and I can't continue to trash my life now assuming I have my whole life ahead of me to fix it and do what I need to do to be doing.

I have come to the realization in my heart, not just my head, that Christians are sinners too.  The only thing that is different about the lifestyle of a Christian and someone who has yet to accept Christ is not the sin itself.  It is the conviction.  Someone who lacks Christ lacks conviction for their evil because they are not guided by the Holy Spirit.  Someone who has embraced Christ and His lordship should feel that conviction.

As time has gone by, I recognize a significant loss in conviction over my sin.  My anger can fly off the handle very easily though I hide it fairly well.  My pride and arrogance...my need to be right...blinds me from learning from others though I pretend to respect them more than I do in my heart.  This is not the way of a Christian.

I have absolute certainty in my salvation.  But I have come face-to-face with the shallowness of my faith. God has become distant.  Because He moved away from me?  No, because I have drifted.  I have allowed myself to love others things, desire other things, believe other things, and fall prey to a desperation of not relying on God for contentment and purpose.  This much is obvious to me when I examine the low level of conviction I feel about my faults and sins.

But I cannot go on living this way.  I have wasted so many opportunities.  I have turned my back on too many people, even if they never realized it.  I have not been the man I was trained and raised to be.

Now God is re-teaching me what it is to be a man of God.  I am remembering how it feels to go to battle again rather than flirt with my temptations.

One of my dearest and most treasured friends told me not too long ago that she always saw me as a warrior who fought for what I believed it.  A man of conviction and strength.  But the weakness I was displaying and the attitude of giving up on being who I was supposed to be and settling for a lesser and more miserable person really caused her to lose respect for me.  That struck me hard enough to land me on my face and really shake me up.

I guess what I am trying to say with all this is, I can see a period of time in my life over the past few years where I have veered away from the man I was created to be and settled for a lesser creature.  I am a shell of my former self and have become distracted and brought down by my own despair and frustrations.  My willingness to allow the Holy Spirit to guide and convict me has faded over time and I have been letting a lot of people down on a daily basis.

That is not the man I intend to be any more.  I have seen this side of the fence.  I like to think I have been through hell, but mostly I just stuck my face in the dirt and cried about it.  I got bruised and pushed around a bit in battle and gave up and sat down, allowing the enemy to claim my position on the battlefield as their own...meanwhile, I have been remaining inactive and refusing to rise again.

It is a new year now.  I have grown and have enough years in my life to look behind me and weep at the despair I have caused for myself.  This will not continue.

Today, I am re-engaging in my war against sin.  I have forgotten what it feels like to grasp a sword again, but I know I am not alone on the battlefield and am not without purpose.  God has been standing by, my marching orders in His hand...waiting for me to finish my pity party and return to Him.

This day, I return to the battlefield.  There will be no more massacres. Though I realize I will not win every battle, I know that my commander has already won the war.  I will persevere by His side until He takes the victory He has already claimed and takes me home away from war.

I have spent long days in a pit of misery, refusing to represent my faith.  I have been called up out the pit and back to battle.  Today, I am answering that call.  I pray that each of you who reads this will keep me accountable to that call.  I only have one life.  I cannot afford to live it going backwards.

The Everblack

"A blackened sky
A wasted land
A shattered heart
Shifting sand

A blood-stained knife
A bullet-torn corpse
A fallen fortress
A blood-slick floor

Here is pain
Here find death
Behold the misery
Behold His wrath

Welcome to the Everblack

See the sickness
Become diseased
Play with fire
Burn without cease

We are helpless
We are doomed
For hope, there is no room

Welcome to the Everblack

This is our fate
This is our road
Here’s where we head
 If that’s all to be told

But there’s a God
There’s a Love
There’s a Savior
There’s a Way

His name is Jesus
And He saved you
Laid aside His will
As the nails pierced through

But not even Death could claim…
The Son of God

He lives in you
Behold divine love

Behold this Man
Behold your God
Hold His hand

You’re rescued from the Everblack"

No Identity and Malnourished?

So I was spending this evening sitting on the couch feeling sick and watching a baseball game when my doorbell rang.  It was my neighbor.  Her problem?  A stray dog laying on her front porch and blocking her from getting in her front door.  At first glance, I didn't think that dog would be alive in 10 minutes.  But after calling Animal Control and waiting about 40 minutes for them to show up, the dog was still breathing.  In fact, about half way through our wait, she somehow managed to get up and walk around a bit.  She was starved, her eyes were oozing, she was wet and sticky all over, and she barely had the strength to stand.  "I could see her ribs" is a gross understatement.  But she was a sweet dog.  My neighbor came and got me because she was concerned the dog might try to attack her, but even if the dog did have the energy to do so, she was much too sweet.

Forsaking my personal hygene, I got close to her and pet her softly.  Most of my efforts were in keeping her there for the Animal Control lady who was taking forever to arrive.  In that time, I spent most of my time talking to her and just giving her a soft, caring voice.  I do not know if she had been abused, but she had certainly been on her own for quite some time.  In the short time I was with the dog, I grew fond of her.  She was homeless, battered, weak...literally ready to die.

When Animal Control got there, the lady had little trouble getting the dog to come to her and put her in the truck.  As she was loading the dog, my mom, my neighbor, and I were commenting on how she needed a bath and some food.  The Animal Control officer's response?  "They'll put her down probably in the morning."

I was mortified.  Honestly, I was angry.  The officer explained that she had no collar and was in really rough shape.  She would not be given an opportunity to recover and maybe be adopted later on.  I did my part in keeping her alive tonight so that she could die tomorrow.

I can't help but think about the near hour I sat by the dog talking to her.  Encouraging her to keep breathing and that help was coming.  I had no idea that the "help" would give her little hope of surviving. 

What if she had been wearing a collar and looked relatively healthy?  Would they have still decided to put her down?  Or would they have decided that she still had a fighting chance?  I would like to think that they would have given her the chance to live had circumstances been different.  Though I wish that they would give her the opportunity to recover in her present circumstances as well, but life isn't always what we want it to be...

What about our lives?  The dog had no collar and she was starved.  Malnourished and lacking identity. Are you and I not the same way sometimes?  We can crawl through life as if we're barely hanging on....we look and act starved of God and His Spirit and outsiders can see no dog tags on us.  So often we fail to represent Christ and identify with Him.  So often we neglect His teachings, His grace, His word, His fellowship.  And so often we can be found on the porch barely breathing...starved of the essentials of our life: His provision.

We all have those "wilderness experiences" where we feel like we've strayed from the righteous path.  We have all tripped on a bump in the road and have diverted in a different direction.  But like the Prodigal Son from Luke 15, we must come to a place where we repent and return to active fellowship with our Father.

That dog had been abandoned, starved, and left hopeless.  And her fate hurts my heart.  I know if I were in her position, I wouldn't ever want someone to give up on me. 

If you feel like that: a stray with little hope of making it through the rest of your life...do not let go.  There is everlasting help.  There is never-ending grace and love in the arms of a tortured and brutalized King.  He has already suffered all there is to suffer on behalf of our sins and has invited to a place of greatest privilege at His side! He lives on still and intercedes for us before God almighty...the Father of creation.  If you feel out of hope, out of strength, and done with fighting...surrender to the One who has not given up on you.  He has a hope and plan for you.  It is His design that you back away from the doors of death and enter into the gates of divine grace.  Never quit fighting.  You were never meant to be caged by your suffering.

And if you know somebody like that....you do not give up on them either.  When the Animal Control Officer told us the dog would be dead by tomorrow, I clenched my fists, clamped my mouth shut, and went inside with a heavy heart.  The few minutes I had spent with that dog showed me that she still had a will to live.  And they were going to take away that will to live because she was in rough shape and lacked a collar to identify her with someone. 

If I ever hear that a friend of mine has given up on someone else because they're in rough shape, and it seems like they don't have a master to identify with, I will personally kick their butt.  There is always still hope of recovering.  A drug addiction, a porn addiction, an uncontrollable temper, a lack of motivation...whatever it is, there is time to forsake the wilderness and return to the path that person was made and designed to walk.  And if you give up them, how can they be expected to not give up on themselves?

I know a lot of people in my life right now that are living really hard lives.  They are enduring difficult circumstances that are putting enormous pressure on them.  I can even look at my own life and see the footholds that Satan has found that were not there just a year before.  Life is a battle, and the fight lasts as long as we still draw breath.  Sometimes we stray and find ourselves without a collar that links us to Christ.  We discover that our actions are rejections to Christ and His work on the Cross and we must repent of those things and re-connect with Him.  We must put the collar back on and be identified with Him once more.  And just as often, we may find ourselves starved of His word and feeling lost about what to do, how to act, and where to turn.  But we do not have to be starved of Scripture forever.  Indeed, God is calling all of us to dig deep inside His word and discover and embrace His truth. 

Outside of His calling, we will waste away.  We are dead...lifeless in action and purpose until we come awake to His plan for us.  Let that be you today.  God has not given up on you and me.  We may be acting like stray dogs right now, but Christ is not ready to give up on us.  Recovery is possible if we choose it. 

I challenge myself and my friends to commit to such a recovery.  Revival is within us.