A quick check of current bass fishing lures at a major retailer lists 937 types. With each type, there are size and color variations on the average of 22 per type. Multiply those together and you need a tackle box that can hold 20,614 items.
What's a fisherman to do? Unless he is on speaking terms with a largemouth bass (and I know a few people who ARE), he is forced to guess. There are, however, different levels of guessing.
Take Homer and his wife, Etta, for example. Being the romantic husband that he is, Homer decided to take Etta fishing on Valentine's Day. Actually, he had planned on taking her to the Dairy Queen but it wasn't his fault the bass began their pre-spawn activity on Valentine's Day!
So the two lovebirds hopped into the john boat and headed to the north end of the lake. Being the generous and loving husband that he is, Homer rigged Etta's pink and purple female-type fishing pole with a Texas-rigged, super killin', hog smashin' craw-worm. He told her to chunk it on out there, let it hit bottom, and then slowly crank it in, giving the rod an occasional pop. Even though Etta never said, "Huh?" - Homer knew the look. Being the patient husband that he is, he chunked it out there for her and demonstrated his prior instructions.
After a long ten minutes of fishing and catching nothing, Etta went to fiddling around in Homer's tackle boxes.
"What are you doing, sugar muffin?" asked Homer.
"I'm looking for something else to fish with. Something with a little bling to it," answered Etta. She looked up at him with her one good eye and grinned that gorgeous, albeit toothless, grin that always melted his heart. He returned the grin with a nod and a half smile, then turned where she couldn't see him smirk.
Homer thought to himself, "Bling? Did she say bling? It's a tackle box, not a jewelry box. She ain't gonna catch nothin. And when I catch me a hawg on this here craw-worm, she'll be sorry she didn't listen to the master!"
Homer prided himself on knowing exactly what the fish were biting. He even bragged to his buddies that God blessed him with a fish's brain and he "knowed what they were thinkin'."
Etta pulled a ten-inch worm out of the bottom of Homer's tackle box and held it up. "Can I try this one?" she asked.
Homer had no idea how such a worm ever made it's way into his tackle box. That worm was a sight! It looked like a mardi gras parade puked all over it. It had every bright-colored, glittery speck you could imagine imbedded into it's black and motor-oil colored body.
Homer spit. Then he spoke. "Apparently, that old worm has set too long on the bottom of my tackle box," he said. "And all the glitters and sparkles from other baits melted into it. That's the ugliest thing I ever saw! The fish ain't gonna hit that thing. In fact, it'll probably scare 'em all away...honey pie."
She batted her eye, squared her jaw, and tried to stand up in the boat so she could put her hands on her hips (a posture Homer knew all too well). "But, but, but, if my four-leaf clover darlin' wants to fish with that," Homer corrected himself. "Then, by golly, she's gonna fish with it."
Etta sat back down and grinned like a giddy school girl. Homer took the bling mardi gras puke worm from her hand and put it on her hook. It went against every fiber of his being and he hoped no one could see him. Etta cast the worm about two feet, making an awful splash as that big worm hit the water right next to the boat.
While Homer was shaking his head and whispering his good-byes to all the bass in a two-mile radius, Etta's pole went to bending and Etta went to screaming, "I got one!"
"No way!" Homer shouted before he could stop himself.
"Yes, way!" Etta yelled back. "Stop standin' there gawkin'. Get the net!"
"You sure it ain't a stump or a gar or a trot line?" Homer asked and instantly regretted asking it. Before that sentence got to "trot line," Homer knew the answer. A bass so big it would be a wallhanger in Jimmy Houston's house (pause for a moment of silence at the mention of his name) jumped straight up out of the water, did a hula dance in mid-air with five inches of puke worm hanging out of her mouth, and headed straight back down.
"Hang on, Etta! I'm gettin' the net. Give her some slack or she'll break your line," Homer shouted.
Etta leered at him and said, "I got this! You just get the net."
Homer did the husband hunker that all men are familiar with. The one that says, "Yes ma'am" without the words.
The fish was longer than the mouth of the net, but they managed to get her into the boat. After a dozen high fives, a thousand hoops and hollers, and a couple of pictures with the polaroid, Etta turned to the crowd that had gathered at the bank and held her lunker hawg big momma bass up like Jay Yelas at the Bassmasters (another pause). She could hear the folks whistling and shouting.
When she turned back around, Homer, being the humble husband that he is, was digging in the bottom of his tackle box for a ten-inch black and motor-oil worm with some bling on it.
The lesson of Homer and Etta is three-fold: 1) Take your dog - NEVER your wife - fishing on Valentine's Day. 2) If you DO take her fishing and she catches a bigger fish than you, DON'T go to the Dairy Queen right after that. 3) No matter how good a guesser you are when it comes to fishing -- everyone occasionally guesses wrong, and anyone can occasionally guess right.
Fishing is guesswork. But you can improve your chances of guessing right by learning patterns, studying the seasonal behavior of fish, discovering what is and is not working from other experienced fishermen (and knowing whether they are lying to you or not), and by following the three P's: practice, practice, practice.
However, even a first-time fisherman can crawl into a boat or stand on a bank and be in the right place at the right time with the right bait. The guesswork factor in fishing is what makes it fun.
Unless you're fishing for answers to life's questions.
Life was never meant to be a guessing game. The Creator of life did not create haphazardly. He created with purpose, design, and compassion. He not only planned YOU, He has a plan FOR you. You don't have to guess. You just have to search.
Where do you begin searching? The first place to search for God's plan for your life is in the Bible. It is God's instruction manual for man. In it, you will find truth. Truth is the guide of life that we all need. Jesus said, "I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father but by Me" (John 14:6).
The truth of the Bible also tells us that "God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish, but have eternal life" (John 3:16). That's not a guess. That's a guarantee from the Manufacturer.
A second place to search is in prayer. Prayer is simply opening your heart to God and talking to Him. You can tell Him how you feel. You can ask Him to show you what He wants you to know. You can ask Him anything. He longs to hear from you. A third place to search is in a healthy church. Being around other followers of Christ gives you people just like you to talk to, lean on, and learn from.
This life and the one following is too important to leave it all up to chance. God wants you to know. He hasn't put 20,614 options in front of you. Just one. His Son. I pray you will accept Jesus as, not only the Savior of the world who died for the sins of the world, but as YOUR personal Savior who loves you and died for you.
Googling Really Large Tackle Boxes,
Perry Crisp
Showing posts with label John 14. Show all posts
Showing posts with label John 14. Show all posts
Monday, February 21, 2011
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
A MUST Read
What if I'm right?
In an instant, the levy broke. It wasn't a slight breach. It was a wide, gaping break that emptied an entire lake in a matter of hours. Within minutes, a wall of water forced its way over and through trees, homes, streets, and towns. The water was so powerful, trees snapped and houses crumbled and disappeared. Dozens of people were swept away in an instant.
Dozens. Not hundreds. Not thousands. Dozens. The dozens swept away were the ones who refused to believe the warnings and heed the voluntary and eventual mandatory, evacuations. The Corps of Engineers had warned the public of the likelihood of a pending breach or even complete failure of the levy. Warnings and precautions had been public for three months. Officials went door to door insisting that residents evacuate.
Many heeded the warnings and evacuated. Some who evacuated early decided the authorities were wrong and snuck back into their homes after a month or two. Others grew impatient and held rallies in their towns to protest the evacuations, angrily shouting insults at the public officials and engineers who kept them from returning to their homes.
Then the levy broke.
Just as the engineers predicted, the water runoff from the rain miles away from the lake eventually made its way to the lake and increased the already tremendous pressure on the weakening levy, and it broke open with the same force as if detonated by a bomb.
Dozens died instantly. The anger of those who once protested the intrusion of the evacuation turned to tears of sorrow, disbelief, humility, and gratitude. Those who had been the objects of constant verbal assaults comforted and cried today with those who had cursed them yesterday.
Once the initial force of the water passed and left the area flooded, rescue teams manned dozens of boats and several helicopters to search for those who might have survived. The helicopter pilots guided the rescue boats to people in trees, on rooftops, and hilltops. The "eye in the sky" (via radio communication) also warned of unsafe areas so that the rescue boats would not get swept away in dangerous currents or their motors entangled in power lines. The results of the search were not as positive as everyone had hoped. Less than twenty people were rescued.
One rescue boat came upon a man in a boat tied to a tree. When the waters initially swept the man from his front porch, he managed to grab onto a tree limb and hold on. Within an hour, an empty boat came floating toward him. He swam to it and climbed inside. He drove the boat around for a while, but could not tell where he was. Afraid of running out of gas or getting completely lost, he tied the boat to a tree and waited for help.
The rescuers pulled their smaller boat next to his and instructed him to get into their boat, but he refused. "This boat saved my life and I'm gonna keep it," he insisted. The rescuers tossed the man a rope and told him to tie it to his boat so that they wouldn't get separated. He tossed the rope back to them, shook his head, and motioned for them to go on. He would follow.
He followed. For a little while. Apparently, the man eventually recognized where he was. Once he got his bearings, he sped up, passed the slower rescue boat, and took off. The rescuers shouted and tried to wave at him to stop, but he kept going. They tried to catch him, but he was quickly gone. A rescue helicopter followed above him for a few minutes, but lost him in the trees.
Two hours later, the helicopter pilot spotted the man's boat. The hull was severely compromised. Water filled the boat. The man was nowhere in sight. His body was found a week later.
As sad as this story is, it reaches infinitely greater depths of sadness when you realize it is a modern-day parable of those who refuse to heed the teachings of Scripture; and instead, believe the popular modern-day myth that there are many paths to heaven.
I believe the Bible is the true Word of God with the same depth of conviction that you believe oxygen is vital to the survival of your body. I believe what Jesus said when He said, "I am THE way, THE truth, and THE life. NO ONE comes to the Father, but by Me" (John 14:6). Jesus, in His own words, excludes Himself from the argument that there are many ways to heaven.
I believe Acts 4:12, "Nor is there salvation in ANY other, for there is NO OTHER NAME under heaven given among MEN by which we MUST be saved."
I believe what the Bible reveals. And the Bible doesn't argue about it. It states it as fact. Jesus said He's coming back and this world will one day end. I believe Him. The signs provided in the Bible to help us know when the end time is drawing near have never been more contemporary than they are now. The end could be closer than any of us realize. The levy is swelling.
Jesus said there is a heaven and there is a place of eternal torment called "Hell" and I believe Him. I also believe HIS description of hell over your favorite joke or country song about hell. There will be no partying. There will be no friends. There will be no escape.
Back to my first question: What if I'm right?
What if Jesus IS the only way? What if God gave us ONE way and the devil manufactured twenty alternatives to deceive those who preferred a different way than God's way? What if the Bible is 100% accurate?
What if I'm right?
I know what you're thinking at this point: What if the narrow-minded, holier than thou preacher is dead WRONG? Good question. What if I'm wrong? That would mean you are right.
What if YOU'RE right and there are many ways to God and/or heaven? Then I've lost nothing and gained everything. In that case, I am ON one of the so-called "many ways" to heaven. Why do I feel like I've gained everything? I have lived as both a non-Christian and a Christian, and I'll take the Christian life of joy, peace, grace, forgiveness, and love over the life of emptiness, ambiguity, uncertainty, emotional-roller-coaster-living ANY DAY...even if I'm wrong. But I know I'm not. How do I know? Faith. Faith confirmed daily. I know because I know Him experientially.
What if I'M right and you're wrong? You lose everything and gain an eternity in hell. Your shouts of anger and defamatory name-calling toward those of us who are trying to help you find the truth in Jesus place you in the parable as those who foolishly rally against and curse the ones who have saved your life before you realize it. If I'm right, then your perception of my intentions toward you are wrong. If I'm right, you might also be the man in the boat who felt he had a superior boat and knew a better way to safety only to find out that the other ways lead to disaster. If I'm right, I'm in contact with the "Eye in the Sky" who is trying to lead you in the right way.
Shouldn't that be a sobering enough thought to send you into an honest inquiry of the truth about Jesus? Not a quick googling of websites that agree with your presuppositions and prop up your opinions. I'm asking you to take an honest heart journey. I'm challenging you to drop your argumentative anger and face the issues of your soul without bias.
If I'm right, or even have a ten percent chance of being right in your mind, then what would it be worth to you to find out? And if YOU are so right, why not take my challenge, read the Bible, attend an evangelical church faithfully for a few months, and listen. Really listen. Not just to what the preacher says. Listen to what you hear inside your heart.
One more sobering question for you to think about today: If there were many ways to God and/or heaven, why would Jesus claim otherwise, and then believe it enough to die for it, knowing that man could reach God through lesser means? In other words, there's no wiggle room. You have to decide whether Jesus was/is the Son of God or whether He was a misinformed, delusional liar.
I'm just a man in a boat who is in contact with an eye in the sky who knows the way. And I'm begging you...
...please take the rope.
Perry Crisp
In an instant, the levy broke. It wasn't a slight breach. It was a wide, gaping break that emptied an entire lake in a matter of hours. Within minutes, a wall of water forced its way over and through trees, homes, streets, and towns. The water was so powerful, trees snapped and houses crumbled and disappeared. Dozens of people were swept away in an instant.
Dozens. Not hundreds. Not thousands. Dozens. The dozens swept away were the ones who refused to believe the warnings and heed the voluntary and eventual mandatory, evacuations. The Corps of Engineers had warned the public of the likelihood of a pending breach or even complete failure of the levy. Warnings and precautions had been public for three months. Officials went door to door insisting that residents evacuate.
Many heeded the warnings and evacuated. Some who evacuated early decided the authorities were wrong and snuck back into their homes after a month or two. Others grew impatient and held rallies in their towns to protest the evacuations, angrily shouting insults at the public officials and engineers who kept them from returning to their homes.
Then the levy broke.
Just as the engineers predicted, the water runoff from the rain miles away from the lake eventually made its way to the lake and increased the already tremendous pressure on the weakening levy, and it broke open with the same force as if detonated by a bomb.
Dozens died instantly. The anger of those who once protested the intrusion of the evacuation turned to tears of sorrow, disbelief, humility, and gratitude. Those who had been the objects of constant verbal assaults comforted and cried today with those who had cursed them yesterday.
Once the initial force of the water passed and left the area flooded, rescue teams manned dozens of boats and several helicopters to search for those who might have survived. The helicopter pilots guided the rescue boats to people in trees, on rooftops, and hilltops. The "eye in the sky" (via radio communication) also warned of unsafe areas so that the rescue boats would not get swept away in dangerous currents or their motors entangled in power lines. The results of the search were not as positive as everyone had hoped. Less than twenty people were rescued.
One rescue boat came upon a man in a boat tied to a tree. When the waters initially swept the man from his front porch, he managed to grab onto a tree limb and hold on. Within an hour, an empty boat came floating toward him. He swam to it and climbed inside. He drove the boat around for a while, but could not tell where he was. Afraid of running out of gas or getting completely lost, he tied the boat to a tree and waited for help.
The rescuers pulled their smaller boat next to his and instructed him to get into their boat, but he refused. "This boat saved my life and I'm gonna keep it," he insisted. The rescuers tossed the man a rope and told him to tie it to his boat so that they wouldn't get separated. He tossed the rope back to them, shook his head, and motioned for them to go on. He would follow.
He followed. For a little while. Apparently, the man eventually recognized where he was. Once he got his bearings, he sped up, passed the slower rescue boat, and took off. The rescuers shouted and tried to wave at him to stop, but he kept going. They tried to catch him, but he was quickly gone. A rescue helicopter followed above him for a few minutes, but lost him in the trees.
Two hours later, the helicopter pilot spotted the man's boat. The hull was severely compromised. Water filled the boat. The man was nowhere in sight. His body was found a week later.
As sad as this story is, it reaches infinitely greater depths of sadness when you realize it is a modern-day parable of those who refuse to heed the teachings of Scripture; and instead, believe the popular modern-day myth that there are many paths to heaven.
I believe the Bible is the true Word of God with the same depth of conviction that you believe oxygen is vital to the survival of your body. I believe what Jesus said when He said, "I am THE way, THE truth, and THE life. NO ONE comes to the Father, but by Me" (John 14:6). Jesus, in His own words, excludes Himself from the argument that there are many ways to heaven.
I believe Acts 4:12, "Nor is there salvation in ANY other, for there is NO OTHER NAME under heaven given among MEN by which we MUST be saved."
I believe what the Bible reveals. And the Bible doesn't argue about it. It states it as fact. Jesus said He's coming back and this world will one day end. I believe Him. The signs provided in the Bible to help us know when the end time is drawing near have never been more contemporary than they are now. The end could be closer than any of us realize. The levy is swelling.
Jesus said there is a heaven and there is a place of eternal torment called "Hell" and I believe Him. I also believe HIS description of hell over your favorite joke or country song about hell. There will be no partying. There will be no friends. There will be no escape.
Back to my first question: What if I'm right?
What if Jesus IS the only way? What if God gave us ONE way and the devil manufactured twenty alternatives to deceive those who preferred a different way than God's way? What if the Bible is 100% accurate?
What if I'm right?
I know what you're thinking at this point: What if the narrow-minded, holier than thou preacher is dead WRONG? Good question. What if I'm wrong? That would mean you are right.
What if YOU'RE right and there are many ways to God and/or heaven? Then I've lost nothing and gained everything. In that case, I am ON one of the so-called "many ways" to heaven. Why do I feel like I've gained everything? I have lived as both a non-Christian and a Christian, and I'll take the Christian life of joy, peace, grace, forgiveness, and love over the life of emptiness, ambiguity, uncertainty, emotional-roller-coaster-living ANY DAY...even if I'm wrong. But I know I'm not. How do I know? Faith. Faith confirmed daily. I know because I know Him experientially.
What if I'M right and you're wrong? You lose everything and gain an eternity in hell. Your shouts of anger and defamatory name-calling toward those of us who are trying to help you find the truth in Jesus place you in the parable as those who foolishly rally against and curse the ones who have saved your life before you realize it. If I'm right, then your perception of my intentions toward you are wrong. If I'm right, you might also be the man in the boat who felt he had a superior boat and knew a better way to safety only to find out that the other ways lead to disaster. If I'm right, I'm in contact with the "Eye in the Sky" who is trying to lead you in the right way.
Shouldn't that be a sobering enough thought to send you into an honest inquiry of the truth about Jesus? Not a quick googling of websites that agree with your presuppositions and prop up your opinions. I'm asking you to take an honest heart journey. I'm challenging you to drop your argumentative anger and face the issues of your soul without bias.
If I'm right, or even have a ten percent chance of being right in your mind, then what would it be worth to you to find out? And if YOU are so right, why not take my challenge, read the Bible, attend an evangelical church faithfully for a few months, and listen. Really listen. Not just to what the preacher says. Listen to what you hear inside your heart.
One more sobering question for you to think about today: If there were many ways to God and/or heaven, why would Jesus claim otherwise, and then believe it enough to die for it, knowing that man could reach God through lesser means? In other words, there's no wiggle room. You have to decide whether Jesus was/is the Son of God or whether He was a misinformed, delusional liar.
I'm just a man in a boat who is in contact with an eye in the sky who knows the way. And I'm begging you...
...please take the rope.
Perry Crisp
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
This Way to Safety
A passenger plane failed to take off properly, crashed through the fences and barriers at the end of the runway, skidded along its belly a great distance before doing a nose dive into a nearby river late at night. The aircraft was half in and half out of the powerful river current. The craft remained intact, but the wings and tail section of the plane remained on land while the nose, cockpit, and business-class section floated on the river. Only the pilot and the co-pilot knew that the front half of the plane was on the river, but the pilot was dazed and nearly unconscious from the crash.
The co-pilot knew that the strong current made the exits at the front end of the plane too dangerous. Anyone exiting the plane in that river would drown in the darkness. The co-pilot acted quickly. The crash knocked all the power out. He could not call the flight attendants or calm the passengers with the PA system.
Knowing that the primary exits in a crash are near the cockpit and that the flight attendants might soon try to open the forward doors, he exited the cockpit, turned on his flashlight, and began directing everyone to the back of the aircraft. Flight attendants were located at the front and rear of the plane, and the ones at the rear could not hear the co-pilot over the voices of panic and creaking noises of the crumpled plane.
The co-pilot instructed the flight attendants at the front of the plane not to open the doors because the water would come flooding in and could possibly pull the entire plane into the river. He then pushed his way through the frightened passengers toward the rear of the plane, encouraging everyone to remain calm. Every few rows, the co-pilot instructed everyone that the only safe exit was at the rear of the craft.
This process took a great deal of time and the passengers were getting more and more anxious to get off the plane. Fear spread throughout the craft. Someone shouted, "What if the plane catches on fire with these fully-loaded fuel tanks?" Another shouted, "The front exit is the largest. Why aren't we exiting there?" Yet another said, "If we use all the exits, we can all get off of here quicker!"
By the time the co-pilot reached the flight attendants at the rear of the plane, chaos had ensued. People began panicking and pushing in both directions. Others argued with those who were panicking to listen to the co-pilot and do what he says.
The co-pilot opened the rear emergency door and began safely disembarking the passengers. He used his flashlight to guide the frightened passengers toward him while the flight attendants on the ground took them to a safe, open area away from any potential explosion. Emergency personnel from the nearby airport began to arrive on the scene.
Little did the co-pilot know what was happening at the front of the craft. A few of the passengers near the cockpit chose not to follow the co-pilot or heed his instructions. Instead, they unleashed their panic on the flight attendants guarding the large exit door, shoved them aside, and tugged on the exit handle to get the door opened.
Thankfully, the flow of the river forced the door to stay shut long enough for everyone else, including the injured pilot and the flight attendants to get safely off the plane. Multiple attempts were made to control the panicked passengers and lead them safely to the rear of the plane, but they continued pushing against the door that would lead to their death should they succeed in their mission.
Finally, the emergency personnel from airport security boarded the craft at the risk of their own lives and forcefully removed the remaining passengers. Once the passengers who had defied the co-pilot's plan of escape were on the ground, they looked back toward the front of the craft, saw the powerful river that would have swept them to their deaths, and hung their heads in shame. Not long after everyone was safely removed from the sight of the crash, the force of the river overpowered the nose of the plane and wrestled the front half of the craft to the river's bottom.
The co-pilot's quick action and knowledge of the situation saved the lives of every person on board.
But wait. What if this story was a parable? What if the crumpled aircraft was symbolic of the world, the co-pilot was Jesus, and the front and rear exits of the craft represented hell and heaven, respectively?
Apply today's logic of tolerance and the world's overbearing and distorted hatred of anything that remotely appears to be intolerance of other's religious views to this situation. If YOU were on that plane, would you accuse the co-pilot of being intolerant for insisting that there is only one way to safety? Would you call the emergency personnel who forced you off the plane a bunch of narrow-minded bigots?
As a Christian, I believe the Bible is the Word of God. As such, I believe it is truth, not opinion. When Jesus said, "I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through Me" (John 14:6), I believe Him. When Peter said, "Nor is there salvation in any other, for there is no other name under heaven given among men by which we must be saved" (Acts 4:12), I believe him. When Paul wrote, "If you confess with your mouth the Lord Jesus and believe in your heart that God has raised Him from the dead, you will be saved" (Romans 10:9), I believe it!
So, when I stand at the corner of sin and salvation and point people in the direction of Jesus alone and you think me intolerant, bigoted, and narrow-minded, your disdain is for with the wrong person. Your argument is really with Jesus, Peter, and Paul (all three were Jews, by the way...so don't think me anti-semitic, either).
What would you think of the co-pilot had he simply pushed his way through the passengers, shared his opinion that he thought maybe the back exit was the best, but then said, "Use whatever exit you think is best for you," and then left everyone in danger to figure it out for themselves?
Think for just a moment about the passengers who insisted on using the front exit. They were convinced they knew more than anyone else on board. They were determined to use the front exit, believing totally that it was a way to safety. It was only AFTER they were off the plane that they saw the error of their ways. Yet for them in this story, they were still safe. They just had to deal with their own shame and stubbornness that nearly cost them their lives.
But eternity is a different issue. You must decide to accept and follow Jesus before you disembark this physical world. You must live eternally with whatever decision you make now. Weigh your arguments carefully. Research truth honestly. This is no place to casually accept the fluff of pop culture. This is the biggest decision of your life.
This Way,
Perry Crisp
The co-pilot knew that the strong current made the exits at the front end of the plane too dangerous. Anyone exiting the plane in that river would drown in the darkness. The co-pilot acted quickly. The crash knocked all the power out. He could not call the flight attendants or calm the passengers with the PA system.
Knowing that the primary exits in a crash are near the cockpit and that the flight attendants might soon try to open the forward doors, he exited the cockpit, turned on his flashlight, and began directing everyone to the back of the aircraft. Flight attendants were located at the front and rear of the plane, and the ones at the rear could not hear the co-pilot over the voices of panic and creaking noises of the crumpled plane.
The co-pilot instructed the flight attendants at the front of the plane not to open the doors because the water would come flooding in and could possibly pull the entire plane into the river. He then pushed his way through the frightened passengers toward the rear of the plane, encouraging everyone to remain calm. Every few rows, the co-pilot instructed everyone that the only safe exit was at the rear of the craft.
This process took a great deal of time and the passengers were getting more and more anxious to get off the plane. Fear spread throughout the craft. Someone shouted, "What if the plane catches on fire with these fully-loaded fuel tanks?" Another shouted, "The front exit is the largest. Why aren't we exiting there?" Yet another said, "If we use all the exits, we can all get off of here quicker!"
By the time the co-pilot reached the flight attendants at the rear of the plane, chaos had ensued. People began panicking and pushing in both directions. Others argued with those who were panicking to listen to the co-pilot and do what he says.
The co-pilot opened the rear emergency door and began safely disembarking the passengers. He used his flashlight to guide the frightened passengers toward him while the flight attendants on the ground took them to a safe, open area away from any potential explosion. Emergency personnel from the nearby airport began to arrive on the scene.
Little did the co-pilot know what was happening at the front of the craft. A few of the passengers near the cockpit chose not to follow the co-pilot or heed his instructions. Instead, they unleashed their panic on the flight attendants guarding the large exit door, shoved them aside, and tugged on the exit handle to get the door opened.
Thankfully, the flow of the river forced the door to stay shut long enough for everyone else, including the injured pilot and the flight attendants to get safely off the plane. Multiple attempts were made to control the panicked passengers and lead them safely to the rear of the plane, but they continued pushing against the door that would lead to their death should they succeed in their mission.
Finally, the emergency personnel from airport security boarded the craft at the risk of their own lives and forcefully removed the remaining passengers. Once the passengers who had defied the co-pilot's plan of escape were on the ground, they looked back toward the front of the craft, saw the powerful river that would have swept them to their deaths, and hung their heads in shame. Not long after everyone was safely removed from the sight of the crash, the force of the river overpowered the nose of the plane and wrestled the front half of the craft to the river's bottom.
The co-pilot's quick action and knowledge of the situation saved the lives of every person on board.
But wait. What if this story was a parable? What if the crumpled aircraft was symbolic of the world, the co-pilot was Jesus, and the front and rear exits of the craft represented hell and heaven, respectively?
Apply today's logic of tolerance and the world's overbearing and distorted hatred of anything that remotely appears to be intolerance of other's religious views to this situation. If YOU were on that plane, would you accuse the co-pilot of being intolerant for insisting that there is only one way to safety? Would you call the emergency personnel who forced you off the plane a bunch of narrow-minded bigots?
As a Christian, I believe the Bible is the Word of God. As such, I believe it is truth, not opinion. When Jesus said, "I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through Me" (John 14:6), I believe Him. When Peter said, "Nor is there salvation in any other, for there is no other name under heaven given among men by which we must be saved" (Acts 4:12), I believe him. When Paul wrote, "If you confess with your mouth the Lord Jesus and believe in your heart that God has raised Him from the dead, you will be saved" (Romans 10:9), I believe it!
So, when I stand at the corner of sin and salvation and point people in the direction of Jesus alone and you think me intolerant, bigoted, and narrow-minded, your disdain is for with the wrong person. Your argument is really with Jesus, Peter, and Paul (all three were Jews, by the way...so don't think me anti-semitic, either).
What would you think of the co-pilot had he simply pushed his way through the passengers, shared his opinion that he thought maybe the back exit was the best, but then said, "Use whatever exit you think is best for you," and then left everyone in danger to figure it out for themselves?
Think for just a moment about the passengers who insisted on using the front exit. They were convinced they knew more than anyone else on board. They were determined to use the front exit, believing totally that it was a way to safety. It was only AFTER they were off the plane that they saw the error of their ways. Yet for them in this story, they were still safe. They just had to deal with their own shame and stubbornness that nearly cost them their lives.
But eternity is a different issue. You must decide to accept and follow Jesus before you disembark this physical world. You must live eternally with whatever decision you make now. Weigh your arguments carefully. Research truth honestly. This is no place to casually accept the fluff of pop culture. This is the biggest decision of your life.
This Way,
Perry Crisp
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
One Coffin To Go, Please
Seventy-nine years ago, a man in Stanstead Abbots, England bought himself a solid oak coffin for twenty-three pounds --- about $100 at the time. He loved his coffin. He kept it in a shed out behind his house. Every day, he would go out to the shed to give his coffin a polishing.
He did this for at least thirty-three years. Someone discovered this rather unusual routine when the proud coffin-polisher was still polishing that box at ninety-two years of age. At that age, the old fella would occasionally get tired before finishing the daily polishing ritual and hop into his prized casket for a nap.
At this point, I have two observations: 1) The guy who sold that coffin to this gentleman must have been some kind of salesman! 2) I wonder how many door-to-door salesmen stumbled upon the old man while he was taking a nap in his coffin!
When the basket-case casket owner was interviewed about this odd possession (or was it obsession?) of his, he smiled and said he was real happy with his coffin. He had taken enough good naps in it that he felt satisfied that it would do him well for his longest of all rests.
He said, "I even had my photograph taken in it! Wanted to see how I'd look when the undertaker lays me out."
When asked why he valued this polished oak coffin so much, he answered, "I came into the world a bit rough, as one of nine children. Now, I'm making sure I go out respectable --- with an oak coffin that has solid brass handles and everything!"
A couple more observations: 1) I think he can give up on the whole "going out respectable" idea since everyone who read his story made the circular finger motion around the ear and let out a whistle. 2) What exactly is "everything"? Oak. Okay, I got that. Solid brass handles. I got that, too. But what else is there? He sounded like his coffin had extra amenities that not every corpse would be able to enjoy for eternity. (Join me now in doing the finger motion around the ear and the slight whistle).
In today's world, it is not uncommon for the aging to visit a funeral home and make prearrangements for when that time comes so that their family will not have to make all those decisions. It is a very thoughtful and wise act on their part. Some even pick out the type of casket and begin making payments on the whole burial package.
But I haven't seen or heard of any of them strapping the casket to the roof of their sedan like a Christmas tree to carry it home and try it out! Obviously, the British chap, who is now enjoying his long rest in his prized coffin, was the fruit loop in the box of Cheerios.
However, his bizarre behavior raises an important issue. Are you prepared for the inevitable? I'm not trying to sell you a prearranged funeral plan and I don't have any brochures or fliers on premium caskets. When death comes, it only comes to the body. Not the soul. I'm not worried about the quality of the box you'll be buried in. I'm concerned about where the rest of you will go when your body ceases to function.
The most important decision concerning death has to be made while you still have life. Your destination is the issue at hand. Not your transportation. It won't matter if you have a black or a white limousine or a finely polished casket. What will matter is the preparation of your soul's destination for eternity.
You would look rather silly going to the airport and picking out an airplane because it's pretty without a clue as to where it's going.
Be sure to get this right. There's no changing flights once you're in the air. There are no mulligans. No do-overs.
Jesus made it as clear as it can be made: "I am THE way, THE truth, and THE life. No one comes to the Father except through Me."
Jesus also said, "What shall it profit a man if he gain the whole world (or even a fancy coffin made of oak with brass handles and everything), and lose his own soul." The parenthetical part isn't in the Bible, you understand.
You don't need a coffin in your shed. You need the Christ who shed His blood for your sins in your heart. THAT, I can help you with.
One Satisfied Customer,
Perry Crisp
He did this for at least thirty-three years. Someone discovered this rather unusual routine when the proud coffin-polisher was still polishing that box at ninety-two years of age. At that age, the old fella would occasionally get tired before finishing the daily polishing ritual and hop into his prized casket for a nap.
At this point, I have two observations: 1) The guy who sold that coffin to this gentleman must have been some kind of salesman! 2) I wonder how many door-to-door salesmen stumbled upon the old man while he was taking a nap in his coffin!
When the basket-case casket owner was interviewed about this odd possession (or was it obsession?) of his, he smiled and said he was real happy with his coffin. He had taken enough good naps in it that he felt satisfied that it would do him well for his longest of all rests.
He said, "I even had my photograph taken in it! Wanted to see how I'd look when the undertaker lays me out."
When asked why he valued this polished oak coffin so much, he answered, "I came into the world a bit rough, as one of nine children. Now, I'm making sure I go out respectable --- with an oak coffin that has solid brass handles and everything!"
A couple more observations: 1) I think he can give up on the whole "going out respectable" idea since everyone who read his story made the circular finger motion around the ear and let out a whistle. 2) What exactly is "everything"? Oak. Okay, I got that. Solid brass handles. I got that, too. But what else is there? He sounded like his coffin had extra amenities that not every corpse would be able to enjoy for eternity. (Join me now in doing the finger motion around the ear and the slight whistle).
In today's world, it is not uncommon for the aging to visit a funeral home and make prearrangements for when that time comes so that their family will not have to make all those decisions. It is a very thoughtful and wise act on their part. Some even pick out the type of casket and begin making payments on the whole burial package.
But I haven't seen or heard of any of them strapping the casket to the roof of their sedan like a Christmas tree to carry it home and try it out! Obviously, the British chap, who is now enjoying his long rest in his prized coffin, was the fruit loop in the box of Cheerios.
However, his bizarre behavior raises an important issue. Are you prepared for the inevitable? I'm not trying to sell you a prearranged funeral plan and I don't have any brochures or fliers on premium caskets. When death comes, it only comes to the body. Not the soul. I'm not worried about the quality of the box you'll be buried in. I'm concerned about where the rest of you will go when your body ceases to function.
The most important decision concerning death has to be made while you still have life. Your destination is the issue at hand. Not your transportation. It won't matter if you have a black or a white limousine or a finely polished casket. What will matter is the preparation of your soul's destination for eternity.
You would look rather silly going to the airport and picking out an airplane because it's pretty without a clue as to where it's going.
Be sure to get this right. There's no changing flights once you're in the air. There are no mulligans. No do-overs.
Jesus made it as clear as it can be made: "I am THE way, THE truth, and THE life. No one comes to the Father except through Me."
Jesus also said, "What shall it profit a man if he gain the whole world (or even a fancy coffin made of oak with brass handles and everything), and lose his own soul." The parenthetical part isn't in the Bible, you understand.
You don't need a coffin in your shed. You need the Christ who shed His blood for your sins in your heart. THAT, I can help you with.
One Satisfied Customer,
Perry Crisp
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
It's Your Funeral
At a museum in Deadwood, South Dakota, tourists can read the following inscription left by a prospector: "I lost my gun. I lost my horse. I am out of food. The Indians are after me. But I've got all the gold I can carry!"
That scenario not only aptly defines the pursuits and obsessions of most Americans today, it also begs the question: "When you finally get all that you want, will it be worth what it cost?"
There's not much room in a casket. Even if your casket has a safety deposit box filled with millions or you are buried at Fort Knox, it wouldn't mean a thing to you. The only thing that will matter then is what you do with Jesus now.
Jesus said, "I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through Me." By "life," Jesus means eternal life. Let's face it. You and I are headed for an unavoidable statistic: 1 out of every 1 of us will 1 day die.
People have all kinds of opinions about what happens after we die. Most of it is a lot of guesswork that is oddly empty of any homework and strangely dependent upon a stranger's opinion. We are quizzical creatures. We research every product we buy, scrutinize over every investment we make, and thoroughly examine the reliability of a toothbrush before we buy it. But when it comes to eternity, we accept popular opinion, embrace those who offer something that sounds "right" to us, and swallow a trendy philosophy because it was on Oprah. We want truth to conform to us. Who cares if it's really the other way around?
I would rather trust an Eyewitness. Someone who has been there. I'll trust the Manufacturer of life over a shade-tree philosopher. The Creator over the creature. And I'll take my chances with the One whose word has never failed. You should study His book. It makes more sense than you've been led to believe.
Jesus said, "What shall it profit a man if he gain the whole world and lose his own soul?"
In the end, you and I won't hope for all the gold we can carry. We will hope for a God who can carry us.
I'm thinking that old prospector wishes he would have pondered that thought a bit further.
Preparing for Finals,
Perry Crisp
That scenario not only aptly defines the pursuits and obsessions of most Americans today, it also begs the question: "When you finally get all that you want, will it be worth what it cost?"
There's not much room in a casket. Even if your casket has a safety deposit box filled with millions or you are buried at Fort Knox, it wouldn't mean a thing to you. The only thing that will matter then is what you do with Jesus now.
Jesus said, "I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through Me." By "life," Jesus means eternal life. Let's face it. You and I are headed for an unavoidable statistic: 1 out of every 1 of us will 1 day die.
People have all kinds of opinions about what happens after we die. Most of it is a lot of guesswork that is oddly empty of any homework and strangely dependent upon a stranger's opinion. We are quizzical creatures. We research every product we buy, scrutinize over every investment we make, and thoroughly examine the reliability of a toothbrush before we buy it. But when it comes to eternity, we accept popular opinion, embrace those who offer something that sounds "right" to us, and swallow a trendy philosophy because it was on Oprah. We want truth to conform to us. Who cares if it's really the other way around?
I would rather trust an Eyewitness. Someone who has been there. I'll trust the Manufacturer of life over a shade-tree philosopher. The Creator over the creature. And I'll take my chances with the One whose word has never failed. You should study His book. It makes more sense than you've been led to believe.
Jesus said, "What shall it profit a man if he gain the whole world and lose his own soul?"
In the end, you and I won't hope for all the gold we can carry. We will hope for a God who can carry us.
I'm thinking that old prospector wishes he would have pondered that thought a bit further.
Preparing for Finals,
Perry Crisp
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
How to Avoid "How to" Books
Near the line of cashiers at most home improvement stores or warehouses is a library of "How to" books. You can find anything from "How to Build a Deck" to "Plumbing a 70-Story Building for Dummies."
Actually, I'm not really sure what the titles are because I never pull over and pick one up. I only know they are there because I've glanced in that direction once or twice. I'm thinking of writing a book called, "How to Avoid 'How to' Books."
Why do I avoid those books? Because I know me. I wouldn't make it past the introduction page without trying to figure out who I could hire to do this project. Demolition and disassembly I can do without a manual. But construction, assembling, remodeling, or repairing turns me into Curious George. All I do is make messes and anger the man in the yellow hat.
It's not that I don't think plumbing, concrete, wiring, and construction are important. I do. I just want it all to be done right. I would even appreciate a lifetime guarantee that none of that stuff would ever fizzle or fall apart.
What do I do? I call a professional or a friend who has read the manuals and knows what he is doing. This stuff is too important to put in the hands of a Mr. Get'r Done whose tongue is dangling back and forth over his lower lip and says, "Let's put this thingy over here and that whatchacallit over there. That oughta work. Try it now."
I'm convinced some folks treat the maintenance and construction of their hearts and lives the same way I treat home repairs. The bookstores have volumes of advice on how to do life. But they're all written by tongue-dangling humans whose own lives have missing parts and imperfect performance.
There's really only one book on the shelf that gives accurate (even flawless) directions to the complexities and uncertainties of human existence: The Bible.
Which one? There's really only one. I know there are plenty of counterfeits. But there's really only one true Bible. It starts with Genesis, ends with Revelation, has no more than 66 books in it, and isn't published by the Watch Tower Society. Clear enough?
I find that Christians bypass reading the Bible for themselves for the same reason I bypass the "How to" books at Jowe's and The Domicile Depot. They are afraid they won't be able to understand. They feel overwhelmed and unqualified.
That's where the really good news happens. Let me illustrate. Let's say I walk into Jowe's because I need to repair a faucet. I walk over to the library of plumbing and pick up a book called, "Faucet Repair for the Totally Inept," read three sentences and get frustrated because there are no pictures except the ones with Chinese subtitles. Before I can slam the book shut, a guy in a blue frock wearing a smile and a name tag that reads, "Joe Lee Spearit" comes over and says, "Can I help you?"
Joe guides me through the repair manual, shows me the tools I need, and demonstrates for me exactly what I need to do to fix my faucet. I go home, fix the faucet, grunt, and raise my hands in tool man victory.
It is the same with God's Word. As you pick it up to read it, ask the Author of the Bible to guide you through it. God's authorized representative is God Himself who comes in the form of the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit will "teach you all things, and bring to your remembrance all things" (John 14:26). The Holy Spirit won't mislead you, either. He will "guide you into all truth" (John 16:13).
Be not afraid. Pick up The Book. Whisper a prayer for help and begin reading today.
You can do it. He can help.
Perry Crisp
Actually, I'm not really sure what the titles are because I never pull over and pick one up. I only know they are there because I've glanced in that direction once or twice. I'm thinking of writing a book called, "How to Avoid 'How to' Books."
Why do I avoid those books? Because I know me. I wouldn't make it past the introduction page without trying to figure out who I could hire to do this project. Demolition and disassembly I can do without a manual. But construction, assembling, remodeling, or repairing turns me into Curious George. All I do is make messes and anger the man in the yellow hat.
It's not that I don't think plumbing, concrete, wiring, and construction are important. I do. I just want it all to be done right. I would even appreciate a lifetime guarantee that none of that stuff would ever fizzle or fall apart.
What do I do? I call a professional or a friend who has read the manuals and knows what he is doing. This stuff is too important to put in the hands of a Mr. Get'r Done whose tongue is dangling back and forth over his lower lip and says, "Let's put this thingy over here and that whatchacallit over there. That oughta work. Try it now."
I'm convinced some folks treat the maintenance and construction of their hearts and lives the same way I treat home repairs. The bookstores have volumes of advice on how to do life. But they're all written by tongue-dangling humans whose own lives have missing parts and imperfect performance.
There's really only one book on the shelf that gives accurate (even flawless) directions to the complexities and uncertainties of human existence: The Bible.
Which one? There's really only one. I know there are plenty of counterfeits. But there's really only one true Bible. It starts with Genesis, ends with Revelation, has no more than 66 books in it, and isn't published by the Watch Tower Society. Clear enough?
I find that Christians bypass reading the Bible for themselves for the same reason I bypass the "How to" books at Jowe's and The Domicile Depot. They are afraid they won't be able to understand. They feel overwhelmed and unqualified.
That's where the really good news happens. Let me illustrate. Let's say I walk into Jowe's because I need to repair a faucet. I walk over to the library of plumbing and pick up a book called, "Faucet Repair for the Totally Inept," read three sentences and get frustrated because there are no pictures except the ones with Chinese subtitles. Before I can slam the book shut, a guy in a blue frock wearing a smile and a name tag that reads, "Joe Lee Spearit" comes over and says, "Can I help you?"
Joe guides me through the repair manual, shows me the tools I need, and demonstrates for me exactly what I need to do to fix my faucet. I go home, fix the faucet, grunt, and raise my hands in tool man victory.
It is the same with God's Word. As you pick it up to read it, ask the Author of the Bible to guide you through it. God's authorized representative is God Himself who comes in the form of the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit will "teach you all things, and bring to your remembrance all things" (John 14:26). The Holy Spirit won't mislead you, either. He will "guide you into all truth" (John 16:13).
Be not afraid. Pick up The Book. Whisper a prayer for help and begin reading today.
You can do it. He can help.
Perry Crisp
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