Ever feel like your life is a shambles? Most of your time is spent running around in circles. The more you try to get done, the less you accomplish. You either need more time alone or more time with people.
I know that sounds confusing and you may wonder what I’m talking about. But take another minute and let me explain.
Introverts need time alone. How do you know you are one? If being around a lot of people and involved in activity, leaves you drained, you’re probably an introvert. You prefer solitude. Nothing refreshes you like curling up with a good book or listening to soft music. You’re happy when you’re strolling on the beach alone.
But not if you’re an extrovert. You like the beach when it’s crowded with people. Families building sand castles. Surfers surfing. Street vendors hawking dogs and hamburgers from their grills. Weight lifters grunting and volleyball players shouting. Kids squealing on the swings and merry-go-round, screaming when they fall off the jungle gym. Boom boxes booming. Dancers dancing. Noise and color everywhere.
Introverts enjoy a quiet sunset. Extroverts are too busy partying to notice.
Of course, most of us are a mixture of both and that’s why different activities appeal to us at different times. We need both—time alone and time with others. The trick is to recognize which one you need and when.
Then you can be most productive. Then those elements will work in your favor. You’ll be happier. Instead of feeling that you’re wasting time, you’ll discover how to use the energy and time you have. Instead of mayhem that leaves your life looking like the ancient Greek and Roman ruins, you can use what you have. And in the process what you learn can help others. That’s the definition of noble ruins—being useful again.
Friday, April 04, 2008
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Private Preparation
A quick read of Mark 1: 16–20 may leave you with the idea that something magical or mystical happened when Jesus called his disciples. We’re told that Simon and Andrew “immediately left their nets and followed [Jesus].” Then we read that Jesus “immediately” called James and John.
The inference seems to be that they saw one another for the first time and immediately—almost hypnotically—were drawn to one another. But it’s obvious that Jesus wouldn’t act on impulse. So what really happened?
A look at other gospel accounts reveals more of the time line. It’s likely they met before. And even if they didn’t, these were not chance encounters. And it seems a stretch to suppose that divine revelation caused all five men to do what they did as if in response to a heavenly puppeteer.
Mark prefaces their call with the story of Jesus’ baptism. He also mentions Jesus’ time in the desert. These happened in preparation for his ministry. And although Peter describes himself elsewhere as “a sinful man”, it’s doubtful that he was as ignorant about God’s kingdom as some later supposed.
And while it’s true that God doesn’t always choose the qualified but qualifies those he chooses, we should learn another truth from this passage. Jesus knew enough to teach the masters of Israel by the time he was age twelve. And it’s likely that these men, called by God to become “fishers of men” had relied on God for some time. After all, their lives and their livelihood depended upon his grace.
We shouldn’t be any different. We are all called to follow Christ and both be and make disciples. But that’s only the beginning. Each of us has a destiny. Specific gifts and a calling to fulfill.
So it would be helpful if we remember this: Private preparation precedes public performance.
The inference seems to be that they saw one another for the first time and immediately—almost hypnotically—were drawn to one another. But it’s obvious that Jesus wouldn’t act on impulse. So what really happened?
A look at other gospel accounts reveals more of the time line. It’s likely they met before. And even if they didn’t, these were not chance encounters. And it seems a stretch to suppose that divine revelation caused all five men to do what they did as if in response to a heavenly puppeteer.
Mark prefaces their call with the story of Jesus’ baptism. He also mentions Jesus’ time in the desert. These happened in preparation for his ministry. And although Peter describes himself elsewhere as “a sinful man”, it’s doubtful that he was as ignorant about God’s kingdom as some later supposed.
And while it’s true that God doesn’t always choose the qualified but qualifies those he chooses, we should learn another truth from this passage. Jesus knew enough to teach the masters of Israel by the time he was age twelve. And it’s likely that these men, called by God to become “fishers of men” had relied on God for some time. After all, their lives and their livelihood depended upon his grace.
We shouldn’t be any different. We are all called to follow Christ and both be and make disciples. But that’s only the beginning. Each of us has a destiny. Specific gifts and a calling to fulfill.
So it would be helpful if we remember this: Private preparation precedes public performance.
The Gospel Truth
When I sin I’m like Adam or Peter. I run away from God or tell him to leave me alone.
At those moments I don’t feel holy. So I don’t want to be around the Holy One. I know what I’ve done and I know there should be consequences for my actions. I don’t think I should be forgiven, even though I know God wants to forgive me.
And that’s the point Jesus made when he said, “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near. Repent and believe in the good news!” (Mark 1: 15, HCSB)
Mark tells us that Jesus came preaching the good news. But when I’ve been bad, I don’t think I deserve to hear any good news. I expect at the very least to be scolded. I know I should be punished.
But Jesus died so that God wouldn’t have to punish me—or you.
Three times in the King James Version of the New Testament the word propitiation is used to describe the Messiah’s atonement. Other versions use various words, but the concept of one person dying for another is hard to grasp. But here’s a simple definition: the death of the innocent, on behalf of the guilty, to satisfy the wrath of the just.
Yes, we should be forever separated from God. But we won’t be if we accept the good news—that Jesus took our place and our punishment.
And that’s the gospel truth that leads us to genuine repentance.
At those moments I don’t feel holy. So I don’t want to be around the Holy One. I know what I’ve done and I know there should be consequences for my actions. I don’t think I should be forgiven, even though I know God wants to forgive me.
And that’s the point Jesus made when he said, “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near. Repent and believe in the good news!” (Mark 1: 15, HCSB)
Mark tells us that Jesus came preaching the good news. But when I’ve been bad, I don’t think I deserve to hear any good news. I expect at the very least to be scolded. I know I should be punished.
But Jesus died so that God wouldn’t have to punish me—or you.
Three times in the King James Version of the New Testament the word propitiation is used to describe the Messiah’s atonement. Other versions use various words, but the concept of one person dying for another is hard to grasp. But here’s a simple definition: the death of the innocent, on behalf of the guilty, to satisfy the wrath of the just.
Yes, we should be forever separated from God. But we won’t be if we accept the good news—that Jesus took our place and our punishment.
And that’s the gospel truth that leads us to genuine repentance.
Tuesday, January 08, 2008
Colonel Panic
I imagined what happened as a physical attack. Colonel Panic led the charge. And when the battle ended, my computer lay in ruins.
At first, it seemed the hard drive had been overrun, decimated. Then it became apparent that the logic board had been trashed. I wondered, what next? Was the motherboard destroyed? I knew enough by then to understand the scope of the problem.
Kernels, not colonels, are tiny bits of information embedded deep in the computer’s memory near the root commands. At start up, they tell the computer what programs and applications to run. But mine didn’t want to do what it was designed to do.
One tech defined kernel panic. “It’s like a two-year-old having a temper tantrum. It knows what it’s supposed to do, but it refuses to do it.”
So for two months, I struggled for survival without my right arm. I sent my laptop to be rebuilt, restored. What I got back was a clean slate, as blank as the day I’d bought it.
I had to reinstall primary software and drivers for my printer. Afterward, for two weeks I struggled to rebuild my files, preferences, and various folders. The good news? I lost no data. Before the erase and install the tech instructed me to perform, I bought a 500GB external hard drive and saved my entire user file. But only when I attempted to restore all that data did I learn he’d taken me into a minefield.
Instead of using one simple software tool to migrate the information from the external drive back to my laptop, I had to move one file or folder or individual item at a time. After two more days I managed to reconstruct my mailboxes and address list and directories.
The moral of the story is simple: don’t drop your computer and expect it to work. And in life, don’t imagine that you can control everything that happens to you.
I didn’t drop my computer, but I did knock it off a small table. It never hit the floor. The power cord prevented that. The sudden motion sensor locked up the hard drive. I lost no data. No immediate damage seemed evident. But the injury was real.
Sometimes that happens to us. We’re knocked around and bruised on the inside. There may be no outward sign of any problem, but we’re hurt. We think about the words someone said. We interpret the actions of others. We take thoughts to heart.
The old adage says, “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me.” That’s a shield we use for self-defense. But it’s always deployed too late. Colonel Panic has already attacked and we’re already wounded.
At that point we may know the truth—that God loves us—but we may not believe it as much as we once did. Instead we often believe what others say about us, suppose that their opinions may be at least partially true, and conclude that God can’t love us since we aren’t perfect.
But the truth is we never were. We were born defective. The concept of original sin—that Adam and Eve infected us by what they did in the Garden of Eden—is true. We’re not responsible for that; God doesn’t blame us. He tells us what’s wrong so he can fix us. Our kernels have been damaged. We know what we should do, but we refuse to obey. The result? We need a new logic board.
We can’t think straight. Our concepts, plans, ideas, values, viewpoints, and understanding are scrambled. We need our thoughts to be replaced with new knowledge, fresh wisdom. We need God to reprogram us.
He will, if we let him. His thoughts can become our thoughts, his ways, our ways. And when they do, we can trust that we’ll be fully restored. Nothing will be lost. We will be saved.
Want to learn more? Visit http://praisechapelkingman.podblaze.com to listen to sermons by Senior Pastor Howard Pennington or any of our pastors or guest speakers.
At first, it seemed the hard drive had been overrun, decimated. Then it became apparent that the logic board had been trashed. I wondered, what next? Was the motherboard destroyed? I knew enough by then to understand the scope of the problem.
Kernels, not colonels, are tiny bits of information embedded deep in the computer’s memory near the root commands. At start up, they tell the computer what programs and applications to run. But mine didn’t want to do what it was designed to do.
One tech defined kernel panic. “It’s like a two-year-old having a temper tantrum. It knows what it’s supposed to do, but it refuses to do it.”
So for two months, I struggled for survival without my right arm. I sent my laptop to be rebuilt, restored. What I got back was a clean slate, as blank as the day I’d bought it.
I had to reinstall primary software and drivers for my printer. Afterward, for two weeks I struggled to rebuild my files, preferences, and various folders. The good news? I lost no data. Before the erase and install the tech instructed me to perform, I bought a 500GB external hard drive and saved my entire user file. But only when I attempted to restore all that data did I learn he’d taken me into a minefield.
Instead of using one simple software tool to migrate the information from the external drive back to my laptop, I had to move one file or folder or individual item at a time. After two more days I managed to reconstruct my mailboxes and address list and directories.
The moral of the story is simple: don’t drop your computer and expect it to work. And in life, don’t imagine that you can control everything that happens to you.
I didn’t drop my computer, but I did knock it off a small table. It never hit the floor. The power cord prevented that. The sudden motion sensor locked up the hard drive. I lost no data. No immediate damage seemed evident. But the injury was real.
Sometimes that happens to us. We’re knocked around and bruised on the inside. There may be no outward sign of any problem, but we’re hurt. We think about the words someone said. We interpret the actions of others. We take thoughts to heart.
The old adage says, “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me.” That’s a shield we use for self-defense. But it’s always deployed too late. Colonel Panic has already attacked and we’re already wounded.
At that point we may know the truth—that God loves us—but we may not believe it as much as we once did. Instead we often believe what others say about us, suppose that their opinions may be at least partially true, and conclude that God can’t love us since we aren’t perfect.
But the truth is we never were. We were born defective. The concept of original sin—that Adam and Eve infected us by what they did in the Garden of Eden—is true. We’re not responsible for that; God doesn’t blame us. He tells us what’s wrong so he can fix us. Our kernels have been damaged. We know what we should do, but we refuse to obey. The result? We need a new logic board.
We can’t think straight. Our concepts, plans, ideas, values, viewpoints, and understanding are scrambled. We need our thoughts to be replaced with new knowledge, fresh wisdom. We need God to reprogram us.
He will, if we let him. His thoughts can become our thoughts, his ways, our ways. And when they do, we can trust that we’ll be fully restored. Nothing will be lost. We will be saved.
Want to learn more? Visit http://praisechapelkingman.podblaze.com to listen to sermons by Senior Pastor Howard Pennington or any of our pastors or guest speakers.
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