"There shall be no more pain" (Revelation 21:4). I have no fondness for pain. Not a single happy painful memory. Sure, good things have often risen out of pain. But neither the pain itself nor the memory of it bring a smile.
Jesus said we will always have the poor with us. The same is true of pain. Pain is always at hand. If not our own, then someone we know. Can you think of someone you know right now who is suffering? I can.
A grieving family a few miles north of me struggles with a pain I cannot imagine -- the drowning death of their three-year-old son.
A dear couple in our church family brought a sack of fresh vegetables from their garden to give to their daughter yesterday...only to be met at the door by the son-in-law saying, "When I tried to wake her up this morning, she was dead."
Parents burying their children flies high off the pain chart.
We know where pain originated. Genesis. The book of beginnings tells us. Adam, Eve, and the serpent had the first committee meeting in human history and decided one of God's rules was suspect. They decided God didn't have their best interests at heart, so they deliberately dined on a forbidden fruit.
God punished each of them with pain. The serpent's mode of transportation went from whatever it was to belly-crawling. If you don't think that's painful, try it. Along with the belly-crawling, the serpent's sin earned him dust-eating and head-crushing.
The woman's punishment was two-fold: Greatly multiplied sorrow and pain when having children, and having to submit to the authority of the dumber of the two genders. Why childbirth? Probably for more significant reasons than I, the dumber of the genders, will ever know. But childbirth had not yet occurred in human history. Chapter 4 of Genesis hadn't been written yet. So, childbirth, the next event in Adam and Eve's lives, was going to be more unbearable (pat yourself on the back if you recognized the pun) than originally planned.
The man obviously took one for the team when the punishment was handed out, though. One could argue that the woman's punishment would be enough for both genders due to the fact that the woman's punishment would naturally be transferred onto the man. Thus, the phrase, "If momma ain't happy, nobody's happy" was born.
Not only that, a man standing next to a woman during the birthing process, FEELS her pain if he is dumb enough to be within reach of her fingernails or teeth. We usually are. One bite has led to a billion more. The woman's second punishment lands in the man's lap as well. Things like heavy sighing, rolling of the eyes, tapping of the foot, hands on the hips, etc., have all evolved from this punishment.
But wait...there's more! For the man. Man had to go out and work the uncooperative fields. The woman and kids needed food. Food came from the ground. But the ground was as cooperative as the clamped jaws of a baby refusing a spoonful of medicine. Thorns, thistles and sweat awaited the man every day until he dropped dead.
Pain.
Isn't it interesting that the Bible introduces us to pain's birth in the first book and then points to pain's death in the last book? "There shall be no more pain."
What happened between Genesis and Revelation that led to the promise of a future in heaven without pain? The answer is not a what, but a who...
Jesus.
Jesus happened.
Genesis even predicted Jesus would happen. When God was doling out the serpent's punishment, He said, "I will put enmity between you (serpent) and the woman, and between your seed and her Seed; He (Jesus) shall bruise your head, and you shall bruise His heel" (Genesis 3:15, parenthesis mine).
Seems to me the winner of that battle is the one with the bruised heel. My, what a bruise it was. Are you with me? Between the birth of pain in Genesis to the death of pain in Revelation, Jesus was born.
Jesus was born.
The cure came via the curse.
Jesus came to pay the price for the sin of humanity. He gathered up all the rotten apple cores that have ever fallen from the sin-dripping lips of mankind, toted them to the cross, and paid for them with His life. Through pain.
More pain than any human has ever known. Through His own excruciating pain, He paid sin's penalty with His pure life's blood. The pain was meant for us, yet He stepped between it and us and took it upon Himself.
We still feel pain. Though the penalty has been paid, though forgiveness has been settled, we still live with pain...for now. But there is coming a day when there will be no more pain.
That's something worth knowing. And worth sharing.
Advil until then...
Perry Crisp
Showing posts with label Jesus. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jesus. Show all posts
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Little Debbie
Debbie T. returned to her one bedroom apartment with the words "four to six months" boldly emblazened into her mind. A few weeks earlier, a shadow appeared on one of her test results. That shadow, her doctor discovered, was a fast-growing form of cancer. Deb was faced with the news that she had only a few months to live.
Deb had lived her life without really giving her own eventual demise much thought. Now, it was all she thought about. "But it was just a shadow," she kept repeating through her tears. "How can a shadow kill?"
Eventually, Deb began to take inventory of her life. She looked at herself and her situation. She was a divorced, 57 year-old woman with no children. Her parents had both died before she was 50. Her sister, twelve years ahead of her chronologically, was now 50 years behind her mentally and emotionally, spending her remaining years in a care facility for alzheimer patients. Deb worked as a cashier at a small, family-owned grocery store in rural Louisiana since her divorce fourteen years ago.
The first phone call she made was to her boss, Randy. Through her tears, Deb let Randy know that she would not be coming back to work. In spite of his many efforts to find out why she was crying and quitting her job, Randy soon heard the line go dead. A strange, illogical fear kept Deb from telling anyone that she was dying. It was as if, by saying it aloud, it would make it true.
The second phone call Deb made came two days later. She called her bank to find out how much money she had in her checking and savings accounts. The amount surprised her. She had hoped to have enough money to get away for a few days. She wanted to sit on a beach and watch the sun rise and set. Instead, she had enough money to go practically anywhere she wanted for a week! Upon further investigation, she discovered a sizeable deposit into her account the previous day. Randy.
Randy and his wife and family had always been good to her. She knew she had to tell them what was going on, but she decided she would wait until she returned from her trip. She had to get away. But where? Deb wanted to see at least one place on earth that she had always dreamed of seeing before it was too late.
Deb knew what that one place was --- Hawaii! For years, she watched game shows and dreamed of being a contestant and winning a trip to Hawaii. But it had only always been a fantasy. With Randy's help, she had just enough money to get to California for a week.
A plan developed in Debbie's mind. She would go to California, get on a game show, and win a trip to Hawaii. It seemed simple enough...until she tried to apply as a contestant. The waiting lists did not fit her limited calendar. The tryouts, application forms, and the odds of being selected were not in her favor either. The only game show she could get tickets to immediately was the one she had watched all her life: "The Price is Right."
"The Price is Right" is the one game show that pulls contestants from the audience. She knew the likelihood of being selected as a contestant was a long shot. She knew the chances of winning a trip was an even greater long shot. And the odds of her winning a trip specifically to Hawaii? Just this side of "not-a-chance." But what did she have to lose? At least she would die knowing she finally took a risk on fulfilling her dreams.
To her surprise, an ad on "The Price is Right" website inviting people to be a contestant on the show had a sample contestant name tag that read, "Debra!" It was all she needed to point and click her way toward contestanthood.
With great fear and enormous butterflies in her stomach, she booked a seat in the audience and one on an airplane. She then found the big, luxurious hotel that they always advertise on the game show and booked a room for three nights. The fear of the shadow was driven away by the excitement of going to California and being in a television audience.
This was a huge step for Deb. Her flight left in four days and she didn't sleep for the next three nights. She packed and packed again a dozen times, ignoring all phone calls, emails, and knocks at the door.
Deb felt totally out of place in Los Angeles. She tried to act like a seasoned traveler, but knew she was failing miserably. In spite of her anxieties, she forced her way through LAX, baggage claim, and an unforgettable cab ride to the hotel. As she checked in at the snazziest place she had ever seen, she looked around, hoping to catch a glimpse of Richard Gere, only to discover that everyone was looking at her. They had obviously never seen anyone from the other "LA"!
When the door closed behind her in her immaculate hotel room, she let out a gigantic sigh of relief, flung herself onto the soft bed, and let the emotions flow. It was an odd demonstration of grief, laughter, sorrow, satisfaction, disbelief, and relief.
The next day, Debbie sat in the studio audience of "The Price is Right" with a big tag on her shirt that read, "Deb." The process of getting to her seat was all a blur. She vaguely remembered filling out paperwork and going through security, but it was mostly a fuzzy series of events that didn't find a home in her memory.
Deb enjoyed the entire show, but her name wasn't called...until the second half! "Debbie T, come on down! You're the next contestant on 'The Price is Right!'"
Deb couldn't believe it! She didn't jump up and scream. She floated down the aisle in shock. It didn't seem real. When she reached her place in the contestant line-up, tears began to flow down her cheeks. The host of the show saw the tears and tried to help her laugh it off, "Wow. She's crying. That usually only happens backstage BEFORE I go to makeup."
Everyone laughed. Everyone except Deb. She cried harder. The place went silent. Fear gripped Deb like never before. Barely discernible words crept out of her for the first time about her diagnosis and her dream. Before she could stop herself, she blubbered to a studio full of strangers what she had kept from close friends: "A shadow...cancer...four to six months...Hawaii..."
People in the audience gasped. Producers began to whisper. Deb saw their reaction. "What are you DOING?" she thought to herself. She suddenly felt foolish and alone. She ran as fast as she could out of the studio. She didn't stop running until she got to the hotel.
Deb hid in her room for the next two days until time for her flight home. She was miserable. She felt like a total failure, having stood at the plate of "the oppurtunity of a lifetime" and struck out.
When Deb entered her home, the sound of the door closing behind her seemed like the closing of the casket on her hopes and dreams. She went straight to bed and slept for ten hours. "Why wake up?" she thought to herself. "What's the point?"
Deb laid in bed staring at the ceiling fan for another hour before getting up and fixing herself some toast and coffee. She had two messages on her answering machine. One number she recognized. Randy. The other number must have been a telemarketer. She didn't recognize the area code. Deb let both messages sit and blink while she ate her breakfast and started the bathwater in the tub.
While in the tub, the unrecognized area code bounced around in her head until it finally found a home. In Deb's mind, there was almost a "ding, ding, ding" sound that went off. The area code was the same as her hotel in Los Angeles. Deb knew that she had paid her bill before leaving, so she decided to finish the relaxing bath before checking the message.
BEEP. "Debbie T? This is Adam Sandler, producer of 'The Price is Right.' Would you please give me a call? I have something I would like to discuss with you."
BEEP. "Deb? Hey, it's Randy. Listen, I need to talk to you. Can you please call me back?" BEEP.
"The Producer is calling ME?" Deb was shocked, scared, and embarrassed. She had replayed her incident on the show over in her mind ten million times and it always left a painful hole in her stomach. She knew they simply edited her out of the program and called another contestant to take her spot. So, why was Mr. Sandler calling?
Three slight raps on her apartment door jolted Deb out of her attempt to understand Mr. Sandler's message. Deb went to the door and looked through the peep hole. Randy and some man in a business suit. Both smiling.
"What do you want, Randy? And who is that with you?"
"This is Mr. Sandler, Deb," answered Randy. "He's a big Hollywood producer. Would you please let us in? We would like to talk to you."
Debbie stood silent, trying to process the situation. "I know about your cancer, Deb," said Randy. "Mr. Sandler tracked me down from the paperwork you filled out to be on the show. He told me what happened. You have nothing to be ashamed of. We know there's nothing we can do or say to change what you are facing. But please, give us a chance to change how you face it."
Tears flowed down Deb's cheeks. Her heart was broken, but her will was stubborn. "Randy," she answered. "You and your family have been so good to me. But this is something I have to deal with alone."
"I apologize for interrupting, Mrs. T," said Mr. Sandler. "If you wanted to deal with it alone, why couldn't you stop yourself from telling a theater full of strangers? I don't think 'alone' is working for you. We'd like to help if you would be kind enough to let us in so we can talk."
"You came all this way to talk to me?" Deb couldn't imagine such a thing.
"I did," answered Mr. Sandler.
A brief silence followed. With trembling hands, Deb unlocked her apartment door, opened it, and buried her face in Randy's embrace. The three of them sat in Debbie's apartment and talked briefly about her cancer, treatment options, and grim prognosis. Few conversations fill a room with as much heaviness and sadness as this one did.
But the heaviness and sadness didn't last long. Through Mr. Sandler's travel connections and sponsors, as well as sizeable donations from businesses and banks in Deb's small Louisiana community, Deb was going to Hawaii for four weeks! All expenses were paid. Reservations and flights were already booked. Randy handed her an envelope with all her ticket and hotel information and enough spending money for a family of twelve, and said, "I hope your toothbrush is still in your suitcase. You have a plane to catch tomorrow evening."
Did you catch her name? Deb T. Put them together. Debt. We all face Debbie's dilemma. We live in bodies cursed by sin and sentenced to death. The hope of our soul is to gain an envelope of grace that grants us a ticket to Heaven.
We can't earn it. Our debt is higher than our ability to pay. But there is One to whom our value is higher than our debt.
God loved us so much that He sent His Son, Jesus Christ, into the world to pay the cruel price and purchase our fare to Heaven. Jesus came all this way for YOU!
Debbie didn't go to Hawaii until she reached her hand out and accepted the envelope from Randy. Any gift involves a willing giver and a willing receiver. God has willingly given you the gift of salvation. Jesus willingly gave His blood to pay for your sin's penalty. Have you willingly, personally received that gift?
You can. Here's how: Admit to God that you have sinned against Him. No excuses. No comparisons to anyone else. Just acknowledge that you are a sinner in need of His gift of salvation. Then, ask God to forgive your sins through the sacrificial death of Jesus on the cross. Then, by an act of your will, heart, mind, and soul --- turn away from sin and turn toward the Son of God, Jesus Christ. Invite the resurrected Christ to enter and change your life forever.
Have you? If so...believe. Stand on your soul's liberty through the promises of God's Word, the Bible, that you are forgiven and redeemed by the blood of Jesus. You invited Him into your life by faith. Now, live by that same faith.
If you just prayed to receive God's gift of salvation through Jesus Christ, I would like to know about it so that I can pray with and for you, and help you take your next steps as a born-again child of God. Please email me and let me know of your decision. I look forward to hearing from you.
Indebted,
Perry Crisp
perryphrase@yahoo.com
Deb had lived her life without really giving her own eventual demise much thought. Now, it was all she thought about. "But it was just a shadow," she kept repeating through her tears. "How can a shadow kill?"
Eventually, Deb began to take inventory of her life. She looked at herself and her situation. She was a divorced, 57 year-old woman with no children. Her parents had both died before she was 50. Her sister, twelve years ahead of her chronologically, was now 50 years behind her mentally and emotionally, spending her remaining years in a care facility for alzheimer patients. Deb worked as a cashier at a small, family-owned grocery store in rural Louisiana since her divorce fourteen years ago.
The first phone call she made was to her boss, Randy. Through her tears, Deb let Randy know that she would not be coming back to work. In spite of his many efforts to find out why she was crying and quitting her job, Randy soon heard the line go dead. A strange, illogical fear kept Deb from telling anyone that she was dying. It was as if, by saying it aloud, it would make it true.
The second phone call Deb made came two days later. She called her bank to find out how much money she had in her checking and savings accounts. The amount surprised her. She had hoped to have enough money to get away for a few days. She wanted to sit on a beach and watch the sun rise and set. Instead, she had enough money to go practically anywhere she wanted for a week! Upon further investigation, she discovered a sizeable deposit into her account the previous day. Randy.
Randy and his wife and family had always been good to her. She knew she had to tell them what was going on, but she decided she would wait until she returned from her trip. She had to get away. But where? Deb wanted to see at least one place on earth that she had always dreamed of seeing before it was too late.
Deb knew what that one place was --- Hawaii! For years, she watched game shows and dreamed of being a contestant and winning a trip to Hawaii. But it had only always been a fantasy. With Randy's help, she had just enough money to get to California for a week.
A plan developed in Debbie's mind. She would go to California, get on a game show, and win a trip to Hawaii. It seemed simple enough...until she tried to apply as a contestant. The waiting lists did not fit her limited calendar. The tryouts, application forms, and the odds of being selected were not in her favor either. The only game show she could get tickets to immediately was the one she had watched all her life: "The Price is Right."
"The Price is Right" is the one game show that pulls contestants from the audience. She knew the likelihood of being selected as a contestant was a long shot. She knew the chances of winning a trip was an even greater long shot. And the odds of her winning a trip specifically to Hawaii? Just this side of "not-a-chance." But what did she have to lose? At least she would die knowing she finally took a risk on fulfilling her dreams.
To her surprise, an ad on "The Price is Right" website inviting people to be a contestant on the show had a sample contestant name tag that read, "Debra!" It was all she needed to point and click her way toward contestanthood.
With great fear and enormous butterflies in her stomach, she booked a seat in the audience and one on an airplane. She then found the big, luxurious hotel that they always advertise on the game show and booked a room for three nights. The fear of the shadow was driven away by the excitement of going to California and being in a television audience.
This was a huge step for Deb. Her flight left in four days and she didn't sleep for the next three nights. She packed and packed again a dozen times, ignoring all phone calls, emails, and knocks at the door.
Deb felt totally out of place in Los Angeles. She tried to act like a seasoned traveler, but knew she was failing miserably. In spite of her anxieties, she forced her way through LAX, baggage claim, and an unforgettable cab ride to the hotel. As she checked in at the snazziest place she had ever seen, she looked around, hoping to catch a glimpse of Richard Gere, only to discover that everyone was looking at her. They had obviously never seen anyone from the other "LA"!
When the door closed behind her in her immaculate hotel room, she let out a gigantic sigh of relief, flung herself onto the soft bed, and let the emotions flow. It was an odd demonstration of grief, laughter, sorrow, satisfaction, disbelief, and relief.
The next day, Debbie sat in the studio audience of "The Price is Right" with a big tag on her shirt that read, "Deb." The process of getting to her seat was all a blur. She vaguely remembered filling out paperwork and going through security, but it was mostly a fuzzy series of events that didn't find a home in her memory.
Deb enjoyed the entire show, but her name wasn't called...until the second half! "Debbie T, come on down! You're the next contestant on 'The Price is Right!'"
Deb couldn't believe it! She didn't jump up and scream. She floated down the aisle in shock. It didn't seem real. When she reached her place in the contestant line-up, tears began to flow down her cheeks. The host of the show saw the tears and tried to help her laugh it off, "Wow. She's crying. That usually only happens backstage BEFORE I go to makeup."
Everyone laughed. Everyone except Deb. She cried harder. The place went silent. Fear gripped Deb like never before. Barely discernible words crept out of her for the first time about her diagnosis and her dream. Before she could stop herself, she blubbered to a studio full of strangers what she had kept from close friends: "A shadow...cancer...four to six months...Hawaii..."
People in the audience gasped. Producers began to whisper. Deb saw their reaction. "What are you DOING?" she thought to herself. She suddenly felt foolish and alone. She ran as fast as she could out of the studio. She didn't stop running until she got to the hotel.
Deb hid in her room for the next two days until time for her flight home. She was miserable. She felt like a total failure, having stood at the plate of "the oppurtunity of a lifetime" and struck out.
When Deb entered her home, the sound of the door closing behind her seemed like the closing of the casket on her hopes and dreams. She went straight to bed and slept for ten hours. "Why wake up?" she thought to herself. "What's the point?"
Deb laid in bed staring at the ceiling fan for another hour before getting up and fixing herself some toast and coffee. She had two messages on her answering machine. One number she recognized. Randy. The other number must have been a telemarketer. She didn't recognize the area code. Deb let both messages sit and blink while she ate her breakfast and started the bathwater in the tub.
While in the tub, the unrecognized area code bounced around in her head until it finally found a home. In Deb's mind, there was almost a "ding, ding, ding" sound that went off. The area code was the same as her hotel in Los Angeles. Deb knew that she had paid her bill before leaving, so she decided to finish the relaxing bath before checking the message.
BEEP. "Debbie T? This is Adam Sandler, producer of 'The Price is Right.' Would you please give me a call? I have something I would like to discuss with you."
BEEP. "Deb? Hey, it's Randy. Listen, I need to talk to you. Can you please call me back?" BEEP.
"The Producer is calling ME?" Deb was shocked, scared, and embarrassed. She had replayed her incident on the show over in her mind ten million times and it always left a painful hole in her stomach. She knew they simply edited her out of the program and called another contestant to take her spot. So, why was Mr. Sandler calling?
Three slight raps on her apartment door jolted Deb out of her attempt to understand Mr. Sandler's message. Deb went to the door and looked through the peep hole. Randy and some man in a business suit. Both smiling.
"What do you want, Randy? And who is that with you?"
"This is Mr. Sandler, Deb," answered Randy. "He's a big Hollywood producer. Would you please let us in? We would like to talk to you."
Debbie stood silent, trying to process the situation. "I know about your cancer, Deb," said Randy. "Mr. Sandler tracked me down from the paperwork you filled out to be on the show. He told me what happened. You have nothing to be ashamed of. We know there's nothing we can do or say to change what you are facing. But please, give us a chance to change how you face it."
Tears flowed down Deb's cheeks. Her heart was broken, but her will was stubborn. "Randy," she answered. "You and your family have been so good to me. But this is something I have to deal with alone."
"I apologize for interrupting, Mrs. T," said Mr. Sandler. "If you wanted to deal with it alone, why couldn't you stop yourself from telling a theater full of strangers? I don't think 'alone' is working for you. We'd like to help if you would be kind enough to let us in so we can talk."
"You came all this way to talk to me?" Deb couldn't imagine such a thing.
"I did," answered Mr. Sandler.
A brief silence followed. With trembling hands, Deb unlocked her apartment door, opened it, and buried her face in Randy's embrace. The three of them sat in Debbie's apartment and talked briefly about her cancer, treatment options, and grim prognosis. Few conversations fill a room with as much heaviness and sadness as this one did.
But the heaviness and sadness didn't last long. Through Mr. Sandler's travel connections and sponsors, as well as sizeable donations from businesses and banks in Deb's small Louisiana community, Deb was going to Hawaii for four weeks! All expenses were paid. Reservations and flights were already booked. Randy handed her an envelope with all her ticket and hotel information and enough spending money for a family of twelve, and said, "I hope your toothbrush is still in your suitcase. You have a plane to catch tomorrow evening."
Did you catch her name? Deb T. Put them together. Debt. We all face Debbie's dilemma. We live in bodies cursed by sin and sentenced to death. The hope of our soul is to gain an envelope of grace that grants us a ticket to Heaven.
We can't earn it. Our debt is higher than our ability to pay. But there is One to whom our value is higher than our debt.
God loved us so much that He sent His Son, Jesus Christ, into the world to pay the cruel price and purchase our fare to Heaven. Jesus came all this way for YOU!
Debbie didn't go to Hawaii until she reached her hand out and accepted the envelope from Randy. Any gift involves a willing giver and a willing receiver. God has willingly given you the gift of salvation. Jesus willingly gave His blood to pay for your sin's penalty. Have you willingly, personally received that gift?
You can. Here's how: Admit to God that you have sinned against Him. No excuses. No comparisons to anyone else. Just acknowledge that you are a sinner in need of His gift of salvation. Then, ask God to forgive your sins through the sacrificial death of Jesus on the cross. Then, by an act of your will, heart, mind, and soul --- turn away from sin and turn toward the Son of God, Jesus Christ. Invite the resurrected Christ to enter and change your life forever.
Have you? If so...believe. Stand on your soul's liberty through the promises of God's Word, the Bible, that you are forgiven and redeemed by the blood of Jesus. You invited Him into your life by faith. Now, live by that same faith.
If you just prayed to receive God's gift of salvation through Jesus Christ, I would like to know about it so that I can pray with and for you, and help you take your next steps as a born-again child of God. Please email me and let me know of your decision. I look forward to hearing from you.
Indebted,
Perry Crisp
perryphrase@yahoo.com
Monday, March 29, 2010
In Full Spring?
Spring is having a hard time springing and staying sprung here in east Texas. Passover is here. Easter is nearly here. The flowers, grass, trees, and bass all know it's time. They are trying to do their spring thing, but the weather is a bit temperamental and uncooperative.
One spring day barely clocks in a full 24 hours before cold winds, cold rain, and white, fluffy stuff shoves spring aside. Somewhere in Minnesota a young child must have prayed for Texas weather, and God answered by swapping theirs with ours.
Be not disheartened! This one thing I know --- Spring will prevail! The grass will need mowing. The flowers will need photographing. The bass will need a few moments of oxygen and a photo op with a proud fisherman.
Fear not, grandpaw! You WILL get to wear the plaid shorts over your belly button and your black socks over your calves. Fret not, biker friend! A day is coming when you can ride sleeveless again without your teeth chattering. Keep the faith, everyone. Spring will spring and stay sprung.
How do I know? Because that's the way God set the seasonal table of earth. God is a God of order, not chaos. God set the earth and all other planets in perfect order. God scheduled the rotation precisely so that spring would follow winter, summer would follow spring, autumn/fall would follow summer, and winter would follow autumn/fall.*
It is no coincidence that Jesus died and rose again in the spring. Spring is symbolic of new life returning to barren ground, branches, vines, and limbs. In the spring, stuff underground breaks out of earthly graves and rises to fulfill its purpose. So did Jesus.
Like the seed in the soil, Jesus was buried. But only for three days. On the third day, the Seed split, Life burst forth out of that grave, and the Lily of the Valley arose!
Hallelujah! Christ arose!
Just as surely as He arose, He will return. Just as surely as spring will win out over winter, Jesus will come back for His bride, the Church. Just as surely as the allergists among us need to refill their prescriptions soon, so the redeemed of the Lord need to renew their faith that Jesus is risen and coming again soon.
Sprung Free,
Perry Crisp
*Translation for Men: Spinner bait and spawn/Turkey season follow jigs/Duck/Deer/Quail season, worm/topwater fishing follow the spinner bait and spawn/Turkey season, crankbait/Dove season follow worm/topwater fishing, and jigs/Duck/Deer/Quail season follow crankbait/Dove season.
*Translation for Women: Shopping for Easter clothes follows Christmas shopping, Memorial Day/4th of July/Back to School sales follow Easter shopping, Labor Day/pumpkin/turkey sales follow Memorial Day/4th of July/Back to School sales, and Christmas shopping follows Labor Day/pumpkin/turkey sales.
One spring day barely clocks in a full 24 hours before cold winds, cold rain, and white, fluffy stuff shoves spring aside. Somewhere in Minnesota a young child must have prayed for Texas weather, and God answered by swapping theirs with ours.
Be not disheartened! This one thing I know --- Spring will prevail! The grass will need mowing. The flowers will need photographing. The bass will need a few moments of oxygen and a photo op with a proud fisherman.
Fear not, grandpaw! You WILL get to wear the plaid shorts over your belly button and your black socks over your calves. Fret not, biker friend! A day is coming when you can ride sleeveless again without your teeth chattering. Keep the faith, everyone. Spring will spring and stay sprung.
How do I know? Because that's the way God set the seasonal table of earth. God is a God of order, not chaos. God set the earth and all other planets in perfect order. God scheduled the rotation precisely so that spring would follow winter, summer would follow spring, autumn/fall would follow summer, and winter would follow autumn/fall.*
It is no coincidence that Jesus died and rose again in the spring. Spring is symbolic of new life returning to barren ground, branches, vines, and limbs. In the spring, stuff underground breaks out of earthly graves and rises to fulfill its purpose. So did Jesus.
Like the seed in the soil, Jesus was buried. But only for three days. On the third day, the Seed split, Life burst forth out of that grave, and the Lily of the Valley arose!
Hallelujah! Christ arose!
Just as surely as He arose, He will return. Just as surely as spring will win out over winter, Jesus will come back for His bride, the Church. Just as surely as the allergists among us need to refill their prescriptions soon, so the redeemed of the Lord need to renew their faith that Jesus is risen and coming again soon.
Sprung Free,
Perry Crisp
*Translation for Men: Spinner bait and spawn/Turkey season follow jigs/Duck/Deer/Quail season, worm/topwater fishing follow the spinner bait and spawn/Turkey season, crankbait/Dove season follow worm/topwater fishing, and jigs/Duck/Deer/Quail season follow crankbait/Dove season.
*Translation for Women: Shopping for Easter clothes follows Christmas shopping, Memorial Day/4th of July/Back to School sales follow Easter shopping, Labor Day/pumpkin/turkey sales follow Memorial Day/4th of July/Back to School sales, and Christmas shopping follows Labor Day/pumpkin/turkey sales.
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Last Minute Gifts
Now is the time for last minute gifts. The time of the holiday when folks all run out at the same time to buy more stuff to stuff the stocking or because they forgot Uncle Fred's gift...again. Or Aunt Gertie just called and said she's coming to your house for Christmas. Oh joy!
Last minute gifts. Aren't you glad Jesus wasn't a last minute gift? Jesus, the gift of God to the world, wasn't an afterthought. The gift of Christ to the world was most anticipated. More than 300 Old Testament prophecies were fulfilled with precision by the life of Jesus. 300!
Scholars and mathematicians have calculated the odds. Set 300 aside for a moment. If Jesus had only fulfilled 8 of the Messianic prophecies in the Old Testament, the odds would be 1 out of 10 to the 17th power (a one followed by 17 zeros).
Try wrapping your mind around it this way: Mark one silver dollar with a marker and hide it in a stack of silver dollars two feet deep that covers the entire state of Texas. Blindfold someone and have them pick the marked silver dollar at random on the first try. How do you like the odds? And that's only 8 of the prophecies. The odds of one man fulfilling 60 -- not 300 -- but 60 of these prophecies would be 1 out of 10 to the 895th power.*
Brain freeze!
Jesus was not a last minute gift. Unless you think of it in a much different way. The minute before I accepted the gift of Jesus as my personal Savior was the last minute I lived only for myself. The next minute was the first minute I began living for God. Between that last minute and that next minute, time met eternity in my heart. I was forgiven. The transaction for my soul was ratified. I was born again.
I didn't embrace a religion. I didn't pick up a new set of meditation mantras. I didn't hold myself real tight, embrace the inner child (mine's ADD...he won't hold still long enough to be embraced), or will my way into right living. I gave up. I surrendered. I quit. I died. Went into the tomb of my soul and found Jesus there. He wasn't dead. He was alive. And He was giving out new life! I resurrected from that tomb a new person -- alive only because Christ lives in me.
How difficult is it to describe new life to someone who is still spiritually dead? Probably as difficult as a butterfly trying to convince a caterpillar about the change in his life. All you can do is spread your wings, fly, and testify!
Don't wait until the last minute. You don't know which one it is any more than a blindfolded person knows which silver dollar is marked. Choose this minute to be the last minute you live without Jesus.
See you in a minute.
Perry Crisp
*Statistics provided in "A Rabbi Looks at the Last Days," by Rabbi Jonathan Bernis, p. 81-82.
Last minute gifts. Aren't you glad Jesus wasn't a last minute gift? Jesus, the gift of God to the world, wasn't an afterthought. The gift of Christ to the world was most anticipated. More than 300 Old Testament prophecies were fulfilled with precision by the life of Jesus. 300!
Scholars and mathematicians have calculated the odds. Set 300 aside for a moment. If Jesus had only fulfilled 8 of the Messianic prophecies in the Old Testament, the odds would be 1 out of 10 to the 17th power (a one followed by 17 zeros).
Try wrapping your mind around it this way: Mark one silver dollar with a marker and hide it in a stack of silver dollars two feet deep that covers the entire state of Texas. Blindfold someone and have them pick the marked silver dollar at random on the first try. How do you like the odds? And that's only 8 of the prophecies. The odds of one man fulfilling 60 -- not 300 -- but 60 of these prophecies would be 1 out of 10 to the 895th power.*
Brain freeze!
Jesus was not a last minute gift. Unless you think of it in a much different way. The minute before I accepted the gift of Jesus as my personal Savior was the last minute I lived only for myself. The next minute was the first minute I began living for God. Between that last minute and that next minute, time met eternity in my heart. I was forgiven. The transaction for my soul was ratified. I was born again.
I didn't embrace a religion. I didn't pick up a new set of meditation mantras. I didn't hold myself real tight, embrace the inner child (mine's ADD...he won't hold still long enough to be embraced), or will my way into right living. I gave up. I surrendered. I quit. I died. Went into the tomb of my soul and found Jesus there. He wasn't dead. He was alive. And He was giving out new life! I resurrected from that tomb a new person -- alive only because Christ lives in me.
How difficult is it to describe new life to someone who is still spiritually dead? Probably as difficult as a butterfly trying to convince a caterpillar about the change in his life. All you can do is spread your wings, fly, and testify!
Don't wait until the last minute. You don't know which one it is any more than a blindfolded person knows which silver dollar is marked. Choose this minute to be the last minute you live without Jesus.
See you in a minute.
Perry Crisp
*Statistics provided in "A Rabbi Looks at the Last Days," by Rabbi Jonathan Bernis, p. 81-82.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Non-Fiction Fish Story...Really...I Promise
Fishermen tell three types of stories: 1) True stories, 2) Lies, and 3) Stories that start out true, but grow in creativity and length. The size of the fish, the bait, the boat, or the waves may increase with each telling.
The following story falls under category number one. It is 100% non-fiction. A few years ago, I stumbled onto an opportunity to fish at a pond and I was unprepared. It was a family get-together, cookout, reunion thing. They mentioned the pool to swim in, but failed to mention the pond to fish in. So there I was...bypassing the pool to contemplate the fish population of the pond.
The urge to fish was strong. But first I had to hunt. In the garage attic of our family reunion hosts, I found a rod and reel. The rod and reel had a cork and a hook. Fantastic! But I had no bait. I rummaged around for a fishing lure of any kind and found none.
The reunion hosts lived in a subdivision within a city. They had a well-manicured lawn (about as big as a phone booth) and a few tiny flower beds. Similar houses surrounded the large pond. I resisted the urge to dig up the flower beds in search of worms, but I needed some kind of bait.
A thought came to mind. I quickly hid the fishing pole and went back to where the humans were grazing around a food table filled with sandwiches, chips, and dip. It was there that I found the bait I had hoped for: bologna! Pronounced "ba-lo-ney," bologna is a refined slab of delicious round steak. It's an aquired taste. It's also a word commonly used by those who just heard a politician speak.
This was a rather fancy affair, so the sandwiches were trimmed of bread crust and cut up into tiny squares. I guess rich folk can't eat a whole sandwich. Trying not to draw attention to myself, I stuffed a few sandwich squares into my mouth and a couple into my pockets.
I chatted with a neice or two and headed back to the garage where I had stashed the rod and reel. I tried to make my way to the pier that went out over the pond unnoticed, but a couple of youngsters in the pool saw me and followed.
I tore off a piece of bologna and put it on the hook. Almost immediately, the cork started bobbing up and down. It wasn’t long before I caught a small perch. With a few more pieces of bologna, I caught a few more perch. But I'm not much of a perch guy. It was sorta fun catching them, but it didn't satisfy the fisherman in me nearly as much as a bass would.
When I started running low on bologna, an idea came to me. I caught a tiny perch that was no bigger than the palm of my hand, took the hook out of the perch’s mouth and stuck it through his (or her) back under the dorsal fin. I cast my live bait with baloney-breath out into the pond.
The perch made the cork bob up and down as it tried to swim away from the hook in it's back. Then the cork went straight down and disappeared! Whoa baby! The fight was on!
In order to keep this story on the non-fiction level, I will admit that when I reeled in the bass, he was not a wall-hanger (for the outdoor illiterate, that means he wasn't a big fish). The bass weighed a little over ten -- I mean, two pounds. But it was the way that I caught the bass that made it so much fun. Thankfully, I have witnesses.
Let's get out of the pond for a minute and into the parabolic significance of this story. Isaiah 25:8 predicts the atoning death of Christ on the cross and says, "He will swallow up death forever." Paul quotes this prophetic statement in 1st Corinthians 15:54 to reinforce the fact that Jesus saved us from the curse of eternal death.
With those Scriptures in mind, think of the Christian as the bologna, the perch as death, and the bass as Jesus. Before Jesus died on the cross, we (humans) were dangling on a hook without hope. Death feasted on us and continually swallowed us up. When Jesus died on the cross, He looked like another bologna-victim of death. But while in the grave, God removed the hook from Jesus, stuck it in death, and when Jesus rose from the dead, He swallowed death, like the bass that swallowed the perch, and ended death's pursuit of all who believe in Jesus.
To the unbeliever, it looks like death swallows life. But the believer knows it isn’t so. Death doesn’t swallow the Christian. Christ swallows death and gives the Christian eternal life!
Hooked on Jesus,
Perry Crisp
The following story falls under category number one. It is 100% non-fiction. A few years ago, I stumbled onto an opportunity to fish at a pond and I was unprepared. It was a family get-together, cookout, reunion thing. They mentioned the pool to swim in, but failed to mention the pond to fish in. So there I was...bypassing the pool to contemplate the fish population of the pond.
The urge to fish was strong. But first I had to hunt. In the garage attic of our family reunion hosts, I found a rod and reel. The rod and reel had a cork and a hook. Fantastic! But I had no bait. I rummaged around for a fishing lure of any kind and found none.
The reunion hosts lived in a subdivision within a city. They had a well-manicured lawn (about as big as a phone booth) and a few tiny flower beds. Similar houses surrounded the large pond. I resisted the urge to dig up the flower beds in search of worms, but I needed some kind of bait.
A thought came to mind. I quickly hid the fishing pole and went back to where the humans were grazing around a food table filled with sandwiches, chips, and dip. It was there that I found the bait I had hoped for: bologna! Pronounced "ba-lo-ney," bologna is a refined slab of delicious round steak. It's an aquired taste. It's also a word commonly used by those who just heard a politician speak.
This was a rather fancy affair, so the sandwiches were trimmed of bread crust and cut up into tiny squares. I guess rich folk can't eat a whole sandwich. Trying not to draw attention to myself, I stuffed a few sandwich squares into my mouth and a couple into my pockets.
I chatted with a neice or two and headed back to the garage where I had stashed the rod and reel. I tried to make my way to the pier that went out over the pond unnoticed, but a couple of youngsters in the pool saw me and followed.
I tore off a piece of bologna and put it on the hook. Almost immediately, the cork started bobbing up and down. It wasn’t long before I caught a small perch. With a few more pieces of bologna, I caught a few more perch. But I'm not much of a perch guy. It was sorta fun catching them, but it didn't satisfy the fisherman in me nearly as much as a bass would.
When I started running low on bologna, an idea came to me. I caught a tiny perch that was no bigger than the palm of my hand, took the hook out of the perch’s mouth and stuck it through his (or her) back under the dorsal fin. I cast my live bait with baloney-breath out into the pond.
The perch made the cork bob up and down as it tried to swim away from the hook in it's back. Then the cork went straight down and disappeared! Whoa baby! The fight was on!
In order to keep this story on the non-fiction level, I will admit that when I reeled in the bass, he was not a wall-hanger (for the outdoor illiterate, that means he wasn't a big fish). The bass weighed a little over ten -- I mean, two pounds. But it was the way that I caught the bass that made it so much fun. Thankfully, I have witnesses.
Let's get out of the pond for a minute and into the parabolic significance of this story. Isaiah 25:8 predicts the atoning death of Christ on the cross and says, "He will swallow up death forever." Paul quotes this prophetic statement in 1st Corinthians 15:54 to reinforce the fact that Jesus saved us from the curse of eternal death.
With those Scriptures in mind, think of the Christian as the bologna, the perch as death, and the bass as Jesus. Before Jesus died on the cross, we (humans) were dangling on a hook without hope. Death feasted on us and continually swallowed us up. When Jesus died on the cross, He looked like another bologna-victim of death. But while in the grave, God removed the hook from Jesus, stuck it in death, and when Jesus rose from the dead, He swallowed death, like the bass that swallowed the perch, and ended death's pursuit of all who believe in Jesus.
To the unbeliever, it looks like death swallows life. But the believer knows it isn’t so. Death doesn’t swallow the Christian. Christ swallows death and gives the Christian eternal life!
Hooked on Jesus,
Perry Crisp
Monday, September 28, 2009
Simon Says...So What?
Raise your hand if you ever played "Simon Says." Surely, you didn't just raise your hand. First of all, you would look ridiculous sitting at a computer with your hand in the air. Second, I didn't say, "Simon says."
We used to play this when I was a kid. Somehow, my sister was always Simon. My brother and I never dethroned her. I can still see her skinny, tanned frame as she stood in the yard with hands on her hips, giving out commands. (For her husband's sake, I pray she has discontinued this practice). Oh, hi Lynn!
Who is Simon and why should we care what he says? Some say Simon really isn't Simon. Simon is Cicero. Cicero was a famous ancient philosopher, statesman, lawyer, political theorist, and Roman constitutionalist. He was a really smart guy. Like E. F. Hutton, when Simon speaks, people listen.
Or maybe, it is connected to Simon de Montfort and the year 1264, when Simon captured King Henry III at the English town of Lewes. For the next year, any order Henry III gave could have been countermanded by de Montfort. Henry's son, Prince Edward, (who, according to rumor, was at Woodstock...google it) took Simon's castle by force and used his flags as a means to surprise Simon's forces in 1265, thus ending the game, "Simon says."
Whether it is truly rooted in Cicero, the philosopher, or Simon, the conqueror, it is a fun game for children. But when you get older, you soon learn to stop letting Simon boss you around.
So, who SHOULD we listen to? First, you need to realize that there are still a lot of Simons out there, shaking their fingers at you, and telling you what is and is not acceptable. Modern philosophers will tell you to listen to your inner child. That's kinda dumb. Doesn't that bring us full circle back to the kid who used to listen to Simon? The cultural gurus would tell you to listen to anyone who meets with their esoteric chalk dust theories...which usually leave you coughing, choking, scratching your head, or starving. Spiritually, the world would like to hang twenty-five signs pointing in twenty-five directions and have you believe all are equally viable...except for the one that points to Christ.
You can believe anything as long as you don't really believe it. You can do anything any way you want to do it as long you don't tell anybody it's the right way to do it. And you can stand on any truth you want to stand on as long as it doesn't come from a Bible or quote Jesus.
OR...
You can be honest. You can make an honest search. You can question why the prevailing philosophy of this world wants to Simonize you away from Jesus Christ and the Bible. You can open your ears and your heart and listen for that still, small voice that speaks from a heart of love, grace, and peace.
I'm not Simon. I'm Perry. I can't tell you what to do or believe. I can only tell you that I'm a recovering Simon-follower who has found Someone far better to follow. I'm a follower of Jesus Christ. There. I said it. Let the politically correct police pummel me with their arrogance and smug faith in the shifting sands of today's "Simon" who was yesterday's nobody and tomorrow's forgotten idol.
I believe in the Rock of Ages. I believe in the One is the same yesterday, today, and forever. I'm going to listen to the One who took my punishment and bears my scars all because He loved me.
By the way...I'm in good company. A guy named Simon (Peter) met this same Jesus and left everything to follow Him.
You don't have to take any baby steps or giant steps to find Jesus. He's only a prayer away. Call out to Him. He's waiting for you with arms open wide, not hands on His hips.
Perry says, "Jesus Saves." But Jesus saves whether Perry says so or not.
We used to play this when I was a kid. Somehow, my sister was always Simon. My brother and I never dethroned her. I can still see her skinny, tanned frame as she stood in the yard with hands on her hips, giving out commands. (For her husband's sake, I pray she has discontinued this practice). Oh, hi Lynn!
Who is Simon and why should we care what he says? Some say Simon really isn't Simon. Simon is Cicero. Cicero was a famous ancient philosopher, statesman, lawyer, political theorist, and Roman constitutionalist. He was a really smart guy. Like E. F. Hutton, when Simon speaks, people listen.
Or maybe, it is connected to Simon de Montfort and the year 1264, when Simon captured King Henry III at the English town of Lewes. For the next year, any order Henry III gave could have been countermanded by de Montfort. Henry's son, Prince Edward, (who, according to rumor, was at Woodstock...google it) took Simon's castle by force and used his flags as a means to surprise Simon's forces in 1265, thus ending the game, "Simon says."
Whether it is truly rooted in Cicero, the philosopher, or Simon, the conqueror, it is a fun game for children. But when you get older, you soon learn to stop letting Simon boss you around.
So, who SHOULD we listen to? First, you need to realize that there are still a lot of Simons out there, shaking their fingers at you, and telling you what is and is not acceptable. Modern philosophers will tell you to listen to your inner child. That's kinda dumb. Doesn't that bring us full circle back to the kid who used to listen to Simon? The cultural gurus would tell you to listen to anyone who meets with their esoteric chalk dust theories...which usually leave you coughing, choking, scratching your head, or starving. Spiritually, the world would like to hang twenty-five signs pointing in twenty-five directions and have you believe all are equally viable...except for the one that points to Christ.
You can believe anything as long as you don't really believe it. You can do anything any way you want to do it as long you don't tell anybody it's the right way to do it. And you can stand on any truth you want to stand on as long as it doesn't come from a Bible or quote Jesus.
OR...
You can be honest. You can make an honest search. You can question why the prevailing philosophy of this world wants to Simonize you away from Jesus Christ and the Bible. You can open your ears and your heart and listen for that still, small voice that speaks from a heart of love, grace, and peace.
I'm not Simon. I'm Perry. I can't tell you what to do or believe. I can only tell you that I'm a recovering Simon-follower who has found Someone far better to follow. I'm a follower of Jesus Christ. There. I said it. Let the politically correct police pummel me with their arrogance and smug faith in the shifting sands of today's "Simon" who was yesterday's nobody and tomorrow's forgotten idol.
I believe in the Rock of Ages. I believe in the One is the same yesterday, today, and forever. I'm going to listen to the One who took my punishment and bears my scars all because He loved me.
By the way...I'm in good company. A guy named Simon (Peter) met this same Jesus and left everything to follow Him.
You don't have to take any baby steps or giant steps to find Jesus. He's only a prayer away. Call out to Him. He's waiting for you with arms open wide, not hands on His hips.
Perry says, "Jesus Saves." But Jesus saves whether Perry says so or not.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Passion Anyone?
Passion. No word captures that week of Jesus' life leading up to Easter Sunday better than passion.
It took passion to willingly walk mile after mile toward the city of Jerusalem when Jesus knew that He would be brutalized and murdered.
It took passion to ride into town to shouts of adoration and praise when Jesus knew that those same voices would turn to shouts of violence and hatred.
It took passion to enter the Temple and stir the indignation of the religious hypocrites knowing it would compel them to plan His painful death.
It took passion to love Judas.
It took passion to sit at the table with the disciples and eat a passover meal knowing that the entire meal symbolized the events that were about to take place in just a few hours.
It took passion to bend over the dirty feet of the disciples and wash them with water knowing that His body would soon be stretched out upon a cross and His blood would soon be poured out over their dirty, sinful souls.
It took passion to pray and surrender to the Father's plan in the garden knowing that the Temple guards were on their way.
It took passion to let men grab Him with the human power of their flesh and think they held Him when He knew the unlimited, divine power He held over them.
It took passion to hear the lies and endure the mockery of six illegal trials and false witnesses when He knew the truth of His innocence and their guilt.
It took passion to stand still while bloodthirsty men pummeled Him with their fists, spit into His face, ripped out His beard, tore His flesh with a whip, and mocked His name and authority while His angels stood and watched -- wanting to protect Him and defend Him, yet obeying His sovereign command not to intervene.
It took passion to carry the cross, endure the nails in His hands and feet, the thorns upon His brow, and be hoisted up before the world He loved in ridicule and humilty knowing that they did not understand one very important fact: It was His love for them...for us...that held Him on that cross. Not the nails.
It took passion to allow the horrible cruelty of crucifixion to play itself out without taking a divine shortcut.
It took passion to stay in the grave three days.
Passion. The same passion it took for Jesus to endure that week is still in His heart for you. He is passionate for you. He loves you. He did all that He did for you.
Remember His Passion...
Perry Crisp
It took passion to willingly walk mile after mile toward the city of Jerusalem when Jesus knew that He would be brutalized and murdered.
It took passion to ride into town to shouts of adoration and praise when Jesus knew that those same voices would turn to shouts of violence and hatred.
It took passion to enter the Temple and stir the indignation of the religious hypocrites knowing it would compel them to plan His painful death.
It took passion to love Judas.
It took passion to sit at the table with the disciples and eat a passover meal knowing that the entire meal symbolized the events that were about to take place in just a few hours.
It took passion to bend over the dirty feet of the disciples and wash them with water knowing that His body would soon be stretched out upon a cross and His blood would soon be poured out over their dirty, sinful souls.
It took passion to pray and surrender to the Father's plan in the garden knowing that the Temple guards were on their way.
It took passion to let men grab Him with the human power of their flesh and think they held Him when He knew the unlimited, divine power He held over them.
It took passion to hear the lies and endure the mockery of six illegal trials and false witnesses when He knew the truth of His innocence and their guilt.
It took passion to stand still while bloodthirsty men pummeled Him with their fists, spit into His face, ripped out His beard, tore His flesh with a whip, and mocked His name and authority while His angels stood and watched -- wanting to protect Him and defend Him, yet obeying His sovereign command not to intervene.
It took passion to carry the cross, endure the nails in His hands and feet, the thorns upon His brow, and be hoisted up before the world He loved in ridicule and humilty knowing that they did not understand one very important fact: It was His love for them...for us...that held Him on that cross. Not the nails.
It took passion to allow the horrible cruelty of crucifixion to play itself out without taking a divine shortcut.
It took passion to stay in the grave three days.
Passion. The same passion it took for Jesus to endure that week is still in His heart for you. He is passionate for you. He loves you. He did all that He did for you.
Remember His Passion...
Perry Crisp
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Oh Brother
Dad and I searched for quite a while before we found the tiny marker on my uncle's grave. Dad's brother died an infant and was buried near many of my ancestors. While at the cemetery, we wrote down names and dates of those who bore our name and lived before us.
Genealogy is a search for relatives of the past. Christianity is a search for relatives of the future. Let me explain. When you introduce people to Jesus and they accept Him as savior, they become children of our heavenly Father. They also become your siblings in Christ.
Once Andrew found Jesus, he went looking for his brother, Simon Peter. He wanted his brother to meet his savior. When Peter met Jesus, Andrew's brother became Andrew's brother on a whole new and eternal level.
I wanted the same thing for my brother. I was fifteen when I met Jesus. I began praying for my brother to find what I had found in Christ. Eight years later, I received a phone call. Through tears of joy, my brother told me that he gave his heart and life to Jesus.
My brother became my brother all over again in a new and incredible way.
God wants to do the same for your relationships. He wants you, but He also wants your whole family and the entire circle of your friends to know Him as your forever Father.
BROTHER Perry
Genealogy is a search for relatives of the past. Christianity is a search for relatives of the future. Let me explain. When you introduce people to Jesus and they accept Him as savior, they become children of our heavenly Father. They also become your siblings in Christ.
Once Andrew found Jesus, he went looking for his brother, Simon Peter. He wanted his brother to meet his savior. When Peter met Jesus, Andrew's brother became Andrew's brother on a whole new and eternal level.
I wanted the same thing for my brother. I was fifteen when I met Jesus. I began praying for my brother to find what I had found in Christ. Eight years later, I received a phone call. Through tears of joy, my brother told me that he gave his heart and life to Jesus.
My brother became my brother all over again in a new and incredible way.
God wants to do the same for your relationships. He wants you, but He also wants your whole family and the entire circle of your friends to know Him as your forever Father.
BROTHER Perry
Monday, January 12, 2009
Double Take
Mike and Mark are identical twins. My first time to meet them was a lot of fun - for them! It was my sophomore year in high school and I was new in town. I met Mark in the hallway. He was friendly and said he would see me at lunch.
Later, in the cafeteria, I took my tray and sat down next to my new friend, Mark. Only it wasn't Mark. It was Mike. But I didn't know that.
"Hey, Mark. Mind if I sit here?" I asked. He hesitated a second, then smiled, and said, "Not at all. Have a seat." We carried on a conversation for a few minutes without him ever giving his true identity away.
Within ten minutes, someone sat on the other side of me. You guessed it. Mark. I looked from left to right and left again. I was seeing two Marks! The real Mark smiled and said, "I see you've met my brother, Mike." Identical twins with identical grins.
I haven't seen the twins in nearly twenty years, so I don't know how much they still resemble one another. But in high school, Mark and Mike looked exactly alike. They were the physical image of each other, though not the perfect image of each other. They each had their own unique personalities and tastes. When you saw Mark, you saw what Mike looked like. But you could not get to know Mike by being with Mark.
Jesus, however, is the image of God perfectly. When you see Jesus, you see God! And when you get to know Jesus, you truly get to know God. Why? Jesus is the exact representation of God. "He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation" (Colossians 1:15, NIV).
In Genesis 1:26, God said, "Let us make man in our image." The closest we come to seeing God's statement fulfilled is when we allow Jesus, the perfect image of God, to live through us.
Too many of us are worried about our own image. Like a little girl playing with a doll, we pamper our image, dress it up, and prop it up. But in reality, it's just as fake as the doll.
You have a choice today. You can baby-sit your own image or you can yield your life to Jesus and show others His reflection in you.
My Twin Lives Inside Me,
Perry Crisp
Later, in the cafeteria, I took my tray and sat down next to my new friend, Mark. Only it wasn't Mark. It was Mike. But I didn't know that.
"Hey, Mark. Mind if I sit here?" I asked. He hesitated a second, then smiled, and said, "Not at all. Have a seat." We carried on a conversation for a few minutes without him ever giving his true identity away.
Within ten minutes, someone sat on the other side of me. You guessed it. Mark. I looked from left to right and left again. I was seeing two Marks! The real Mark smiled and said, "I see you've met my brother, Mike." Identical twins with identical grins.
I haven't seen the twins in nearly twenty years, so I don't know how much they still resemble one another. But in high school, Mark and Mike looked exactly alike. They were the physical image of each other, though not the perfect image of each other. They each had their own unique personalities and tastes. When you saw Mark, you saw what Mike looked like. But you could not get to know Mike by being with Mark.
Jesus, however, is the image of God perfectly. When you see Jesus, you see God! And when you get to know Jesus, you truly get to know God. Why? Jesus is the exact representation of God. "He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation" (Colossians 1:15, NIV).
In Genesis 1:26, God said, "Let us make man in our image." The closest we come to seeing God's statement fulfilled is when we allow Jesus, the perfect image of God, to live through us.
Too many of us are worried about our own image. Like a little girl playing with a doll, we pamper our image, dress it up, and prop it up. But in reality, it's just as fake as the doll.
You have a choice today. You can baby-sit your own image or you can yield your life to Jesus and show others His reflection in you.
My Twin Lives Inside Me,
Perry Crisp
Monday, December 1, 2008
The Anchor Holds
There are many reasons why an anchor may not hold: The water may be too deep, the rope may be too short, or the anchor may be too small for the size of the boat or the strength of the wind.
Those are the less embarrassing reasons.
There are other reasons why anchors don't hold. I have discovered them all by myself. For example, an inadequate knot tends to result in the anchor taking up permanent residence as a prop on the set of SpongeBob SquarePants.
Also, forgetting to pull up the anchor when moving to another part of the lake can cause premature anchor detachment. And then there's the moment when you and your fishing buddy both say, "I thought YOU were bring the anchor!"
In life, we often find ourselves in need of an anchor that holds. We occasionally end up in "deep water" or fighting against the wind and waves of life only to discover that our anchor is insufficient. Or we depend on things or people that just aren't secure, reliable, or honest.
There is one anchor that holds in this life no matter how deep the water, no matter how high the waves, and no matter how strong the wind. This anchor is firmly and eternally secure, reliable, and trustworthy.
The anchor that holds is Jesus.
When we put our trust in Jesus Christ, the anchor of hope is dropped, secured, and immovable for all eternity.
"We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure..." (Hebrews 6:19, NIV).
Anchored in Faith,
Perry Crisp
Those are the less embarrassing reasons.
There are other reasons why anchors don't hold. I have discovered them all by myself. For example, an inadequate knot tends to result in the anchor taking up permanent residence as a prop on the set of SpongeBob SquarePants.
Also, forgetting to pull up the anchor when moving to another part of the lake can cause premature anchor detachment. And then there's the moment when you and your fishing buddy both say, "I thought YOU were bring the anchor!"
In life, we often find ourselves in need of an anchor that holds. We occasionally end up in "deep water" or fighting against the wind and waves of life only to discover that our anchor is insufficient. Or we depend on things or people that just aren't secure, reliable, or honest.
There is one anchor that holds in this life no matter how deep the water, no matter how high the waves, and no matter how strong the wind. This anchor is firmly and eternally secure, reliable, and trustworthy.
The anchor that holds is Jesus.
When we put our trust in Jesus Christ, the anchor of hope is dropped, secured, and immovable for all eternity.
"We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure..." (Hebrews 6:19, NIV).
Anchored in Faith,
Perry Crisp
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Liquid Lessons
Peter wanted to go toward Jesus. Jonah wanted to flee from God. Peter stepped out of the boat. Jonah was tossed. Peter walked on it. Jonah swam in it. Peter saw the waves beating against his legs and doubted his ability to walk on water. Jonah saw the gigantic fin coming toward him and doubted it was Flipper coming to take him for a dolphin ride. Peter started sinking and asked for help. Jonah started sinking and asked, "What's that sucking noise?"
Jesus reached out and lifted Peter up. The monster fish opened wide and swallowed Jonah down. Peter joined Jesus in the boat and learned a lesson on faith. Jonah joined the oceanic buffet inside the big whale's tummy and learned a lesson on obedience.
We can learn both of these lessons from both of these soaked souls.
Peter, with towel wrapped around his shivering body, might say:
"It was awesome walking on water! It's amazing what you can do when you're keeping your eyes on Jesus. And it's surprising how quickly you can sink when you lose your focus. I'm glad I left the boat and walked on the water, but oh, how I wish I'd never let doubt sink my faith."
Jonah, with seaweed dangling from every orifice, might say:
"You better do what God tells you to do. Go where He tells you to go. You can't outrun God. You can't outswim God. You can't hide in the belly of a boat or a fish. I was afraid to follow God and do what He told me to do. Then I learned that the only thing I need to be afraid of is NOT doing what God tells me to do. There is nothing to fear when you are in the center of God's will. But I could tell you stories of what all there is to fear outside of God's will!"
Reporting Seaside,
Perry Crisp
Jesus reached out and lifted Peter up. The monster fish opened wide and swallowed Jonah down. Peter joined Jesus in the boat and learned a lesson on faith. Jonah joined the oceanic buffet inside the big whale's tummy and learned a lesson on obedience.
We can learn both of these lessons from both of these soaked souls.
Peter, with towel wrapped around his shivering body, might say:
"It was awesome walking on water! It's amazing what you can do when you're keeping your eyes on Jesus. And it's surprising how quickly you can sink when you lose your focus. I'm glad I left the boat and walked on the water, but oh, how I wish I'd never let doubt sink my faith."
Jonah, with seaweed dangling from every orifice, might say:
"You better do what God tells you to do. Go where He tells you to go. You can't outrun God. You can't outswim God. You can't hide in the belly of a boat or a fish. I was afraid to follow God and do what He told me to do. Then I learned that the only thing I need to be afraid of is NOT doing what God tells me to do. There is nothing to fear when you are in the center of God's will. But I could tell you stories of what all there is to fear outside of God's will!"
Reporting Seaside,
Perry Crisp
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Coordinates to Truth
Johnnie was looking for direction in his life. He desperately wanted peace, truth, and happiness, but he didn't know where to turn.
He entered "peace" into his GPS and it gave him 286,354 different addresses. "Truth" opened up millions of addresses. And "happiness" seemed to be on every corner, or so the GPS claimed.
Johnnie began to get frustrated. Tears streamed down his cheeks. "Is there any hope?" he cried. He knew better than to type "hope" into the GPS. It would only lead to more dead ends.
Without really knowing why, Johnnie slowly entered three letters: "G-o-d" and pushed the search button. The list of addresses wasn't as long, but still Johnnie was puzzled that God had so many. "Why can't there just be one clear way to God?" Johnnie whispered.
The moment he asked that question, the cursor on his GPS hovered over the name of Jesus. Johnnie felt something stir inside him. His pulse quickened. His breathing became audible. What was happening?
Johnnie clicked on the name of Jesus and read these words, "I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through Me" (John 14:6).
Below the words of Jesus were the following directions:
1. Realize that God loves you and has a personal plan filled with meaningful coordinates for your life. Follow these directions and you will find peace, truth, happiness, and hope. "For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life" (John 3:16).
2. To get to God, you must realize you are going in the wrong direction and turn around. You have sinned against God and it is leading you away from Him. "For all have sinned and come short of the glory of God" (Romans 3:23). The direction you are going will lead you to eternal death and separation from God. "For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord" (Romans 6:23).
3. Look for the cross of Jesus Christ. Stop at the cross. That is the only place anyone's life can truly be turned around. "But God demonstrated His own love toward us, in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us" (Romans 5:8). At the cross, admit to God that you are a sinner. (Sin is the "Bridge Out" to your relationship with God). Invite Jesus to come into your life personally, forgive your sins, and save you. (Jesus is the only bridge that reaches God).
4. You are now ready to turn away from the direction you were going and start a brand new journey. Give Jesus the keys. Let Him drive. Place all your trust in Him. You will find peace instantly. You will find truth constantly flowing from the lips of your new Driver. As long as you allow Him to drive, you will find happiness no matter how bumpy the road may become.
Oh, and by the way...you won't believe your final destination! There is a description of it in the Map (the Bible). It is an incredible place.
Johnnie followed those directions to God and found what he was looking for. When he types "G-o-d" into his GPS now, only one clear choice exists -- Jesus. The rest deleted themselves. They must have just been a mirage.
GPS...God Provided Salvation for you. Will you follow these directions?
Perry Crisp
He entered "peace" into his GPS and it gave him 286,354 different addresses. "Truth" opened up millions of addresses. And "happiness" seemed to be on every corner, or so the GPS claimed.
Johnnie began to get frustrated. Tears streamed down his cheeks. "Is there any hope?" he cried. He knew better than to type "hope" into the GPS. It would only lead to more dead ends.
Without really knowing why, Johnnie slowly entered three letters: "G-o-d" and pushed the search button. The list of addresses wasn't as long, but still Johnnie was puzzled that God had so many. "Why can't there just be one clear way to God?" Johnnie whispered.
The moment he asked that question, the cursor on his GPS hovered over the name of Jesus. Johnnie felt something stir inside him. His pulse quickened. His breathing became audible. What was happening?
Johnnie clicked on the name of Jesus and read these words, "I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through Me" (John 14:6).
Below the words of Jesus were the following directions:
1. Realize that God loves you and has a personal plan filled with meaningful coordinates for your life. Follow these directions and you will find peace, truth, happiness, and hope. "For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life" (John 3:16).
2. To get to God, you must realize you are going in the wrong direction and turn around. You have sinned against God and it is leading you away from Him. "For all have sinned and come short of the glory of God" (Romans 3:23). The direction you are going will lead you to eternal death and separation from God. "For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord" (Romans 6:23).
3. Look for the cross of Jesus Christ. Stop at the cross. That is the only place anyone's life can truly be turned around. "But God demonstrated His own love toward us, in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us" (Romans 5:8). At the cross, admit to God that you are a sinner. (Sin is the "Bridge Out" to your relationship with God). Invite Jesus to come into your life personally, forgive your sins, and save you. (Jesus is the only bridge that reaches God).
4. You are now ready to turn away from the direction you were going and start a brand new journey. Give Jesus the keys. Let Him drive. Place all your trust in Him. You will find peace instantly. You will find truth constantly flowing from the lips of your new Driver. As long as you allow Him to drive, you will find happiness no matter how bumpy the road may become.
Oh, and by the way...you won't believe your final destination! There is a description of it in the Map (the Bible). It is an incredible place.
Johnnie followed those directions to God and found what he was looking for. When he types "G-o-d" into his GPS now, only one clear choice exists -- Jesus. The rest deleted themselves. They must have just been a mirage.
GPS...God Provided Salvation for you. Will you follow these directions?
Perry Crisp
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
The Sixteen-Word Story
passing by
cried out
be quiet
cried more
stood still
came near
received sight
followed Him
I'm only giving you sixteen words because I want you to read this story in Luke 18:35-43. But oh, how those sixteen words talk! They tell more than just one man's story from long ago. They tell the story of everyone who has ever chosen to follow Christ.
PASSING BY - Sooner or later, everything passes your way. You will be exposed to the entire menu of life. People will pass by you. Ideas, philosophies, information, opportunities, temptations, doctrines, gimmicks, scams, pleasures...will all glide by like ducks at a shooting gallery. And one day - someday - Jesus will pass by you. Maybe He already has and your story has already been written beyond these first two words to the next two or ten words. But if not, be assured - Jesus WILL pass by you. Be ready. Don't miss it. Don't ignore it. Don't bite the apple you've been tossed from the orchard-keeper of lies.
CRIED OUT - We all cry out in our own way. It may not look or sound the same to the eye or ear, but the message of the heart is the same. Our emptiness and neediness causes our soul to weep.
BE QUIET - Just as sure as the entire menu of life will pass your way, you can expect with equal certainty that the maitre d' of life will shush you. You ask the wrong question and you will be shushed. You try to deal logically with the issues of life and you will be shushed. Go against the flow of society and you will hear the collective ssssshhhhhhh's of life. Sadly, the story ends here for many people. Jesus passes by and they cry out. But once shushed, they forever remain silent. They draw their filthy beggar's blanket around their shoulders and retreat to silently begging for hope.
CRIED MORE - But the heart that picks up the scent of eternal hope cannot be silenced! Don't be shushed by the world. Don't be ashamed to cry out like some helpless, vagrant soul. You are both. So am I. Had Jesus never passed by this planet, Venus should be renamed "Hope" because earth would be 25.7 million miles beyond it. But He did pass by. When the world holds its finger up in firm fashion to shush you, cry louder. Because what happens next is worth it.
STOOD STILL - He who was in motion became motionless. At the sound of the cry, He stopped. You cry, God stops. You call for Him, you get His attention. Every time. Jesus stood still. I remember the night He stood still for me. He was passing by my bed around midnight when I was fifteen. Tears rolled down my cheeks and I cried out to Him. He stopped. He stood still for me. He will stand still for you.
CAME NEAR - Jesus commanded that they bring the man of this story to Him. And the man came near. I don't know that we fully comprehend the depth of that statement. Do we realize all that it took for man to ever come near to God again once sin had entered the world? But there is a Bible truth written in James 4:8 that is true no matter where you put it in the Bible: "Draw near to God and He will draw near to you." Nothing else matters until you do. Let me say that again, but notice the word I emphasize. Nothing else matters until YOU do. Not your parents. Not your preacher. Not your president. Not your nation. You. The hope of your life boils down to you and Jesus...together.
RECEIVED SIGHT - There are different ways to see. We see the physical with our eyes, but everything else with our hearts and minds. "Receive" and "sight" are mentioned together three times in three verses. It was the greatest issue of this man's existence and Jesus gave him what he asked for...and more. His eyes were able to see, but they were not alone. His heart, his mind, and his soul received sight as well. Jesus mentioned the key to this idea of receiving sight: "your faith has made you well." What faith? I didn't see any faith. Did you? Oh wait...now I see it. I see it in the first thing the blind man did.
FOLLOWED HIM - The most challenging portion of our story lives in those two words. It is the challenge waiting for us the moment the alarm clock goes off. It is the daily, hourly, and moment-by-moment choice of life. Though I BEGAN following Him, am I still? Will I now? Will you? He gave us sight so we could see the path and follow His steps. Yet we are so tempted to look elsewhere. Follow Him. Keep writing your story. Don't let it end with anything less than the words of Jesus saying to you, "Well done, good and faithful servant."
Two of the last three words of Luke 18 bring the perfect benediction to our story...
PRAISE GOD,
Perry Crisp
cried out
be quiet
cried more
stood still
came near
received sight
followed Him
I'm only giving you sixteen words because I want you to read this story in Luke 18:35-43. But oh, how those sixteen words talk! They tell more than just one man's story from long ago. They tell the story of everyone who has ever chosen to follow Christ.
PASSING BY - Sooner or later, everything passes your way. You will be exposed to the entire menu of life. People will pass by you. Ideas, philosophies, information, opportunities, temptations, doctrines, gimmicks, scams, pleasures...will all glide by like ducks at a shooting gallery. And one day - someday - Jesus will pass by you. Maybe He already has and your story has already been written beyond these first two words to the next two or ten words. But if not, be assured - Jesus WILL pass by you. Be ready. Don't miss it. Don't ignore it. Don't bite the apple you've been tossed from the orchard-keeper of lies.
CRIED OUT - We all cry out in our own way. It may not look or sound the same to the eye or ear, but the message of the heart is the same. Our emptiness and neediness causes our soul to weep.
BE QUIET - Just as sure as the entire menu of life will pass your way, you can expect with equal certainty that the maitre d' of life will shush you. You ask the wrong question and you will be shushed. You try to deal logically with the issues of life and you will be shushed. Go against the flow of society and you will hear the collective ssssshhhhhhh's of life. Sadly, the story ends here for many people. Jesus passes by and they cry out. But once shushed, they forever remain silent. They draw their filthy beggar's blanket around their shoulders and retreat to silently begging for hope.
CRIED MORE - But the heart that picks up the scent of eternal hope cannot be silenced! Don't be shushed by the world. Don't be ashamed to cry out like some helpless, vagrant soul. You are both. So am I. Had Jesus never passed by this planet, Venus should be renamed "Hope" because earth would be 25.7 million miles beyond it. But He did pass by. When the world holds its finger up in firm fashion to shush you, cry louder. Because what happens next is worth it.
STOOD STILL - He who was in motion became motionless. At the sound of the cry, He stopped. You cry, God stops. You call for Him, you get His attention. Every time. Jesus stood still. I remember the night He stood still for me. He was passing by my bed around midnight when I was fifteen. Tears rolled down my cheeks and I cried out to Him. He stopped. He stood still for me. He will stand still for you.
CAME NEAR - Jesus commanded that they bring the man of this story to Him. And the man came near. I don't know that we fully comprehend the depth of that statement. Do we realize all that it took for man to ever come near to God again once sin had entered the world? But there is a Bible truth written in James 4:8 that is true no matter where you put it in the Bible: "Draw near to God and He will draw near to you." Nothing else matters until you do. Let me say that again, but notice the word I emphasize. Nothing else matters until YOU do. Not your parents. Not your preacher. Not your president. Not your nation. You. The hope of your life boils down to you and Jesus...together.
RECEIVED SIGHT - There are different ways to see. We see the physical with our eyes, but everything else with our hearts and minds. "Receive" and "sight" are mentioned together three times in three verses. It was the greatest issue of this man's existence and Jesus gave him what he asked for...and more. His eyes were able to see, but they were not alone. His heart, his mind, and his soul received sight as well. Jesus mentioned the key to this idea of receiving sight: "your faith has made you well." What faith? I didn't see any faith. Did you? Oh wait...now I see it. I see it in the first thing the blind man did.
FOLLOWED HIM - The most challenging portion of our story lives in those two words. It is the challenge waiting for us the moment the alarm clock goes off. It is the daily, hourly, and moment-by-moment choice of life. Though I BEGAN following Him, am I still? Will I now? Will you? He gave us sight so we could see the path and follow His steps. Yet we are so tempted to look elsewhere. Follow Him. Keep writing your story. Don't let it end with anything less than the words of Jesus saying to you, "Well done, good and faithful servant."
Two of the last three words of Luke 18 bring the perfect benediction to our story...
PRAISE GOD,
Perry Crisp
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Rugged Cross Far Better than Paper Rug
My hope has been lifted to a whole new level! I received a thing in the mail this week informing me that a certain "church" in Oklahoma has prayed for me ("or whoever's hand touches this envelope") -- and I am going to be blessed!
They even sent me this cool prayer rug made out of paper. All I have to do is touch both of my knees to the prayer rug, ask God for anything I want (they even gave examples of "what I want" -- a Mercedes, a helicopter, a lottery jackpot).
There's a picture of Jesus on the paper rug. His eyes are closed. But when I finish praying, all I have to do is stare at His eyes and they will open. If they do, my prayers are answered. Then, I have to RUSH the rug (along with a form where I can enclose a donation) back to the Oklahoma "church" so another person named "Occupant" can get the same holy rug blessing.
If you are taking me or them seriously at this point, you need to log off of your computer, find a New Testament, Bible-believing church with an emergency room entrance and go to it as quickly as possible...you need Biblical Therapy!
God answers prayer. But He doesn't need paper rugs or holy envelopes. God is waiting for you to pray. And He knows your name isn't "occupant." God is prepared to bless you. But His blessings are eternal, spiritual, emotional, supernatural, often physical, and occasionally financial. God is not as interested in what you drive as He is what drives you. God is not nearly as apt to increase the odds of your gambling habit as He is to pay the debt of your sin.
God is bigger than that "church" in Oklahoma figures. His prayer lines are not for your profit. His throne room is not your casino. He doesn't exist to wait on you. You were created to serve Him.
He will take care of you. He will meet your needs. He will bless you as He chooses, and He looks at your obedience to His Son more than He checks to see if both knees are touching a paper Jesus.
All you need to know about prayer is found in the Bible, not in your mailbox. I won't waste time arguing how powerful prayer is because it is more powerful than any of us will take the time to realize and/or incorporate into our daily lives.
We don't need to open Jesus' eyes. Jesus needs to open ours. His words of truth are there for all to see: "And whatever you ask in My name, that I will do, that the Father may be glorified in the Son. If you ask anything in My name, I will do it" (John 14:13-14).
My hope is lifted. Not by a bunch of materialistic promises underlined in red on an envelope. But by the knowledge that God knows me by name, knows my past, present, and future needs, and cares for me enough to provide all that I need rather than all that I want.
Preferring a Personal Jesus to a Paper One,
Perry Crisp
They even sent me this cool prayer rug made out of paper. All I have to do is touch both of my knees to the prayer rug, ask God for anything I want (they even gave examples of "what I want" -- a Mercedes, a helicopter, a lottery jackpot).
There's a picture of Jesus on the paper rug. His eyes are closed. But when I finish praying, all I have to do is stare at His eyes and they will open. If they do, my prayers are answered. Then, I have to RUSH the rug (along with a form where I can enclose a donation) back to the Oklahoma "church" so another person named "Occupant" can get the same holy rug blessing.
If you are taking me or them seriously at this point, you need to log off of your computer, find a New Testament, Bible-believing church with an emergency room entrance and go to it as quickly as possible...you need Biblical Therapy!
God answers prayer. But He doesn't need paper rugs or holy envelopes. God is waiting for you to pray. And He knows your name isn't "occupant." God is prepared to bless you. But His blessings are eternal, spiritual, emotional, supernatural, often physical, and occasionally financial. God is not as interested in what you drive as He is what drives you. God is not nearly as apt to increase the odds of your gambling habit as He is to pay the debt of your sin.
God is bigger than that "church" in Oklahoma figures. His prayer lines are not for your profit. His throne room is not your casino. He doesn't exist to wait on you. You were created to serve Him.
He will take care of you. He will meet your needs. He will bless you as He chooses, and He looks at your obedience to His Son more than He checks to see if both knees are touching a paper Jesus.
All you need to know about prayer is found in the Bible, not in your mailbox. I won't waste time arguing how powerful prayer is because it is more powerful than any of us will take the time to realize and/or incorporate into our daily lives.
We don't need to open Jesus' eyes. Jesus needs to open ours. His words of truth are there for all to see: "And whatever you ask in My name, that I will do, that the Father may be glorified in the Son. If you ask anything in My name, I will do it" (John 14:13-14).
My hope is lifted. Not by a bunch of materialistic promises underlined in red on an envelope. But by the knowledge that God knows me by name, knows my past, present, and future needs, and cares for me enough to provide all that I need rather than all that I want.
Preferring a Personal Jesus to a Paper One,
Perry Crisp
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)