I heard an interesting concept the other day. My youth minister told us: A childish faith says the more I know God, the more perfect I become. But a child-like faith says the more I know God, the easier it becomes to see our imperfections.
Interested idea.
This is a guest post written by Nesley Kunkel. If you would like to make a guest post, see this page.
Do you believe that you are who you are for a reason, that you were put here for a purpose? Do you believe that you are special in everyway, that every little thing about you is important? Do you believe that you will never be alone, that you will share your life with someone else? Believe that you have a purpose in life, that you are important, that you will never be alone.
Believe in God.
I got this in an email, and a friend of mine read it in the paper. It’s possible you’ve already read it, since it was written about 10 years ago, but if you haven’t, definitely read it now. It seems quite long, but once you start reading, it will go by quicker than you can say “flubbernuggets” This short story isn’t one to miss!
17-year-old Brian Moore had only a short time to write something for a class. The subject was what Heaven was like. ‘I wowed ‘em,’ he later told his father, Bruce. ‘It’s a killer. It’s the bomb. It’s the best thing I ever wrote….’ It also was the last.
Brian Moore died May 27, 1997, the day after Memorial Day. He was driving home from a friend’s house when his car went off Bulen-Pierce Road in Pickaway County and struck a utility pole. He emerged from the wreck unharmed but stepped on a downed power line and was electrocuted.
The Moore’s framed a copy of Brian’s essay and hung it among the family portraits in the living room. ‘I think God used him to make a point. I think we were meant to find it and make something out of it,’ Mrs. Moore said of the essay. She and her husband want to share their son’s vision of life after death. ‘I’m happy for Brian. I know he’s in heaven. I know I’ll see him.’
Brian’s Essay: The Room…
In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in the room. There were no distinguishing features except for the one wall covered with small index card files. They were like the ones in libraries that list titles by author or subject in alphabetical order. But these files, which stretched from floor to ceiling and seemingly endless in either direction, had very different headings. As I drew near the wall of files, the first to catch my attention was one that read ‘Girls I have liked.’ I opened it and began flipping through the cards. I quickly shut it, shocked to realize that I recognized the names written on each one. And then without being told, I knew exactly where I was.
This lifeless room with its small files was a crude catalog system for my life. Here were written the actions of my every moment, big and small, in a detail my memory couldn’t match. A sense of wonder and curiosity, coupled with horror, stirred within me as I began randomly opening files and exploring their content. Some brought joy and sweet memories; others a sense of shame and regret so intense that I would look over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching.
A file named ‘Friends’ was next to one marked ‘Friends I have betrayed.’ The titles ranged from the mundane to the outright weird ‘Books I Have Read,’ ‘Lies I Have Told,’ ‘Comfort I have Given,’ ‘Jokes I Have Laughed at.’ Some were almost hilarious in their exactness: ‘Things I’ve yelled at my brothers.’ Others I couldn’t laugh at: ‘Things I Have Done in My Anger’, ‘Things I Have Muttered Under My Breath at My Parents.’ I never ceased to be surprised by the contents.
Often there were many more cards than I expected. Sometimes fewer than I hoped. I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the life I had lived. Could it be possible that I had the time in my years to fill each of these thousands or even millions of cards? But each card confirmed this truth. Each was written in my own handwriting. Each signed with my signature.
When I pulled out the file marked ‘TV Shows I have watched’, I realized the files grew to contain their contents. The cards were packed tightly and yet after two or three yards, I hadn’t found the end of the file. I shut it, shamed, not so much by the quality of shows but more by the vast time I knew that file represented.
When I came to a file marked ‘Lustful Thoughts,’ I felt a chill run through my body. I pulled the file out only an inch, not willing to test its size and drew out a card. I shuddered at its detailed content.
I felt sick to think that such a moment had been recorded. An almost animal rage broke on me. One thought dominated my mind: No one must ever see these cards! No one must ever see this room! I have to destroy them!’ In insane frenzy I yanked the file out. Its size didn’t matter now. I had to empty it and burn the cards. But as I took it at one end and began pounding it on the floor, I could not dislodge a single card. I became desperate and pulled out a card, only to find it as strong as steel when I tried to tear it.
Defeated and utterly helpless, I returned the file to its slot. Leaning my forehead against the wall, I let out a long, self-pitying sigh.
And then I saw it.. The title bore ‘People I Have Shared the Gospel With.’ The handle was brighter than those around it, newer, almost unused. I pulled on its handle and a small box not more than three inches long fell into my hands. I could count the cards it contained on one hand.
And then the tears came. I began to weep. Sobs so deep that they hurt. They started in my stomach and shook through me. I fell on my knees and cried. I cried out of shame, from the overwhelming shame of it all. The rows of file shelves swirled in my tear-filled eyes. No one must ever, ever know of this room. I must lock it up and hide the key. But then as I pushed away the tears, I saw Him.
No, please not Him. Not here. Oh, anyone but Jesus. I watched helplessly as He began to open the files and read the cards. I couldn’t bear to watch His response. And in the moments I could bring myself to look at His face, I saw a sorrow deeper than my own.
He seemed to intuitively go to the worst boxes. Why did He have to read every one? Finally He turned and looked at me from across the room. He looked at me with pity in His eyes. But this was a pity that didn’t anger me. I dropped my head, covered my face with my hands and began to cry again. He walked over and put His arm around me. He could have said so many things. But He didn’t say a word. He just cried with me.
Then He got up and walked back to the wall of files. Starting at one end of the room, He took out a file and, one by one, began to sign His name over mine on each card. ‘No!’ I shouted rushing to Him. All I could find to say was ‘No, no,’ as I pulled the card from Him. His name shouldn’t be on these cards. But there it was, written in red so rich, so dark, so alive. The name of Jesus covered mine. It was written with His blood. He gently took the card back. He smiled a sad smile and began to sign the cards. I don’t think I’ll ever understand how He did it so quickly, but the next instant it seemed I heard Him close the last file and walk back to my side.
He placed His hand on my shoulder and said, ‘It is finished.’ I stood up, and He led me out of the room. There was no lock on its door. There were still cards to be written.
‘For God so loved the world that He gave His only son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life.’-John 3:16. ‘I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. ‘-Phil. 4:13.
Please note: This essay was originally written by Joshua Harris… not by Brian Moore. Find out more Here.
This is a paper I wrote for my teen leadership class. The assignment was to write a paper sharing whether or not you would allow homosexual marriage or not and why. I still haven’t been given a grade yet, but here it is anyways.
I think I will keep using the Scribd viewers from now on. If you have a problem or just don’t like it, please let me know.
Well over the past few weeks, I’ve really started to question how Jesus would have addressed homosexuality. It brought me to do a lot of research, and it ended up with me altering my views on homosexual marriage. I’ve come to the conclusion that Jesus would not care whether someone was homosexual or not. He just wouldn’t care.
One of the things this website stressed was the story of Zacchaeus. Jesus didn’t say anything to Zacchaeus about his career choice, He just loved him. I really think that’s what God is calling us to do. Not deny homosexuals, but to push past their choices, and head for the person inside. Now this doesn’t mean that I believe homosexuality isn’t a sin, that it still is. I’m just saying Jesus had something else in mind. There’s more to the issue than arguing whether something is right or wrong.
Another thing I found elsewhere was the verse Hosea 6:6: For I desire mercy, not sacrifice, and acknowledgment of God rather than burnt offerings.
The Israelites were offering their sacrifices to God, not because it pleased Him, but because it was the law. This actually made God angry. Isn’t it the same thing when we deny homosexual marriage?
I had to write a paper for my Teen Leadership class whether I would allow homosexual marriage or not, and why. This really fortified my new view. I will post it so you can read through it (it’s only two pages) within the next day or two.
Until then, I recommend you take a quick glance at what this website has to say on the issue: What Would Jesus Say? I found it very nice whilst writing my paper.
Galatians 5:25-26 ~ Since we live by the Spirit, let us keep in step with the Spirit. Let us not become conceited, provoking and envying each other.
This was a paper I had to write for my teen leadership class already this year. The task was to write a paper that attempted to convince an atheist that God existed in letter form. It took me about 3 hours to put together, and I ended up getting a 90 on it. I got the impression though that a 90 is high relative to the other essays. Well, here is how I would convince an atheist that God exists:
Can I have some constructive critisizm?
Edit: Whoever tweeted this paper… I love you.
After we returned from our mission trip, a friend of mine (whom requested to remain anonymous) asked if I would post something he wrote as a guest post. This it is:
Last week I got to go to LA on a mission trip. It was the most changing thing I’ve ever done. It makes me sad to see these kids that have nothing be so happy, especially since I have everything and feel so upset. I can’t get away from the feeling of them being outside every night. I just can’t!
Why? Why must they go through this and not me? Why? While I was there, I felt like I was going to die. Now I am home and I am sad all the time. Truly sad. Even on our fun day I was sad, because I could not stop thinking about those people. It’s like I’m awake for the first time. I’ve lost myself.
Why can’t we lose ourselves more? Whenever I think about this, I think of the quote: “every man dies, but not every man lives”. I don’t think you really live until you lose yourself in Christ. Now I ask: Have you ever lost yourself? Have you ever longed for something selfless? God will give you a chance, but will you take that chance, and do something with it? Only you can answer this so think long and hard about it. A man’s reach is only as far as his grasp.
How far will you let God reach through your life? Will you let Him have the grasp of impact on your life? Get lost in God’s work.
This post is somewhat long, but I think if you read it all the way through, you will greatly benefit. The story I am telling I wish everyone could hear.
On Thursday (day 6 of mission trip), my group visited “Hippie Hill” in Venice Beach, California. It was my favorite part
Homeless man on Venice Beach
of the trip by far. We took fried chicken, a bunch of chips, and a lot of cokes so we could eat with the people that lived there.
Zach (one of my best friends) and I walked up to man sittin apart from the main pack. His name was David. He talked about how he had traveled the world playing bass for a group in like the 60’s. He quit that so he could raise his daughter and get her through college, so he became a computer programmer to start saving up. His daughter got through college, and his company was bought out by IBM. So he is homeless now on “Hippie Hill”. He kept telling us to not waste our lives, and to get out and do something for God. Wise man.
He needed to leave, so we went back to the main group. We were eating some pretzels, just kinda standing there, and a man walked up. He was tall and had a medium-length hair style. He also wore this orange sunglasses that made him look sharp.
He told me his name was Zappy, because he looked like someone from the 70’s. Well I complimented his sunglasses, and he let me try them on. I tried to give them back to him, but he just pulled out another pair from his backpack and said, “Nah”. That was cool. I never thought I would be getting something from a homeless man.
He started to tell us how if we believe God will take care of us, then He will! He told us stories of his 20 years on the streets, and how God had provided for him so well. He had been shot at, shanked, and had recently been hit by a car, but God provided for him every time. He even told us how he had once had a gun pointed at his head, but he wasn’t scared, because he knew God would let him live, or let him see Jesus face to face. The Crypt member pulled the trigger, and nothing happend. Zappy had been though many things like that, where God had shown grace to him.
Lastly, there was a man named Gregory. The previous day, another one of our small groups had gone to Hippie Hill and done the same thing we had. A girl named Caghan had given Gregory a book called 7 Minutes with God. When we visited, we were able to meet Gregory. He talked how he had read it, and how he had asked God to forgive him, and told us he was saved. All because of a book that had been given to him. He told us he didn’t think he had long to live because of a health condition he had recently discovered, so about 8 of us prayed with him. When we were finished, three words really spoke to me. He said, “Bless you angels”.
Hippie Hill has changed the way I will look at life.
http://uk.news.yahoo.com/5/20090629/ten-grieving-jackson-fans-commit-suicide-8a3eada.html
I know there has been an increase, I now believe the figure is 12. I believe there may have been one Briton who has taken their life.
I found this on some Christian forums. I love the nine words of the poster of the link (whom happens to be an atheist)decided to write:
As if there is nothing else worth living for.
You shall not make for yourself an idol in the form of anything in heaven above or on the earth beneath or in the waters below. You shall not bow down to them or worship them; for I, the LORD your God, am a jealous God ~ Exodus 20:4-5
http://thedailybibleverse.blogspot.com/2009/01/exodus-204-5a-you-shall-not-make-for.html
We can mistakenly think that what God is talking about here are merely idols made by human hands-things like totem poles or statues of other gods or people. But bigger than that are the idols of the heart. An idol is anything that takes first place in our life and affections; anything that becomes a “functional god” in our life is an idol. What are the things you put your trust in? What controls your thinking and actions throughout the day? Is it your job, education or social status? Maybe it is approval from a certain person in your life. When any of these things take first priority, above God in your life, they are idols.
Well scientists now discovered that there was a single man at one point in time.
In new genetic studies of modern human origins, scientists think they have found strong evidence that there was an ancestral “Adam” about 188,000 years ago to go with the previously discovered “Eve.”
The scientists used certain male-specific segments of the Y chromosome, the chromosome passed from father to son, to trace the common ancestor of every man now on earth to that period. They are reporting the findings today in the journal Nature, which also includes a separate study placing Adam in a more recent time.
They then go on to try to mesh in Evolution into the equation, instead of just admitting that the Bible may be at least somewhat accurate. If there is one thing I’ve learned about hardcore Atheists, it’s that they won’t get even close to admitting the Bible has some tasty meat:
The two could have lived at slightly different times, and it is somewhat misleading to associate them with the biblical Adam and Eve, who were supposedly the ultimate sources of all humans. Rather they were probably two random individuals in the small population of early humans, some of whose genes happen to have persisted in the lottery of procreation while those of their contemporaries failed to survive. *Boldedness Added*
You have heard me say it before, and you will hear it often in the future: we are always trying to run from God. If you don’t see scientists running from God in this example, then you must be running as well.
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