Leaning Forward

Boo

There have only been three times in my 64 years when I have been truly frightened. None of them involves goblins, zombies, spectres, or vampires.

One happened in 1965. My friend Charlie and I had been out one night, doing some things that teens shouldn't be doing. On our way home the car was screeching through a few turns. My dad, The Chester heard us coming. So, he went out on the sun-deck of our house and waited on Charlie and I to walk under the sun-deck through the car port, then into the house. When we walked under the sun-deck railing, dad dropped my mom's full length fur coat on us. We thought a bear or creature had dropped from the trees to devour us. It was truly frightening. We wrestled it to the ground until we heard my dad laughing. Yuk! Yuk!

A second occurred during my pastorate at Woodland Baptist Church. We lived in the church parsonage not more than 150 yards up the rural road from the church. One night it was raining cats and dogs and I had left a book I needed in the office. So, I drove down there to get it. it was a book of funeral services that I needed for a service the next day. In the backdrop also was an open grace just steps from the office entrance. When I arrived the rain had subsided so I left the car door open while I dashed into the office. When I returned, closed the door, and started to back out, something breathed on my next, then licked me. I jumped out of the car, ran home and left the engine running. As it turns out David and Polly Powell's dog Archie had gotten in the back seat while I was in the office. He made a mess. But, not as bad as the mess I made getting out of there.

Number three happened at Hampton Heights Baptist Church. Usually before worship I would slip into the rest room back stage in the baptistry changing area to take care of business and check my tie. The toilet was in a long room lined with small changing areas. As i entered the rest room, I noticed a pair of feet under the last changing room door. I slammed the rest room door, broke into a cold sweat, sure that a serial murderer was hiding from the law in that changing space. What to do? My heart was racing, I was sweating profusely, and I was really scared. I looked for a weapon. All I could find was the fountain pen in my pocket. So, after an eternity, I brandished the pen, threw open the door, and confronted the feet under the changing room door. it was my baptism books, hanging from a hook on the wall, protruding under the door. I preached that day on the 366 times "Fear not" is in the Bible.

There's something perverse in all of us that enjoys scaring the daylights out of other people. My dad pulled scary tricks on us all the time, and I'll have to confess that I also scared our kids, and Harriet too, on occasion around our house. After studying this thing a while, I'm clueless abut why scaring people gives us such a rush. One guy said it was because we like to tap into deep emotions like surprise and fear. Maybe so. But, part of the allure of monsters, vampires, zombies, ghosts, and other strange phenomena may be our need to experience the cold sweats once in a while.

Tonight, some people will get their jollies out of scaring kids. So, the porch and yard are decorated with cob webs, RIP signs, hands sticking up out of the ground, maybe even a few caskets or ghosts. As for me and my house, we'll leave the lights on, welcome neighborhood children with a smile, wish them "Happy All Saints Eve", give them a nice piece whatever candy I don't eat, and plant a smile or two.

And, if I'm scared, it will only be from Oliver growling in the background.

Twick or tweet

As far as I could tell, the child isn't a member of a fertility cult or part of a vegan underground. She's just dressed like a bunch of grapes for her version of Halloween. Most likely her head isn't going to spin around and it's only going to be a sweet child's voice that utters the scariest thing she's apt to say when she's out spooking the neighbors Thursday night: twick or tweet!

So, Halloween's suddenly one of those deals that's hard to explain. And, the 2013 installment is especially troublesome because we're currently trending toward the dark side---vampires, zombies, the walking dead, apocalyptic scavengers, mythical epics, elves, cretans, and the Modern Family, a new kind of nightmare that scares me more than any of the aforementioned monsters. So, this week, we'll get a cross section of the American dream when a bunny rabbit, Superman, Jason, Vlad, Hulk, and Sponge Bob all troop up to our door with the goodie bag open.

The cultural stew is halloween too. Go read about it. Here is the Wikipedia version. There are a few layers to this thing now. Underneath is All Hallows Eve, a genuine spiritual ritual derived from "holy evening" and originally focused on All Saints Day each November 1, honoring the saints and praying for the souls of the dead. Factor in some Celtic harvest cult, Gaelic and Welsh mysteries, Druid celebrations, and the more Western love of the macabre, and we end up courting evil, tip-toeing around horror, and dressing in costumes that scare the wits out of the little ones.

Certain elements of fundamental faith see the devil under every rock and in every pursuit outside of hymn singing and reading the Good Book. I read a blog post the other week about the devilish themes in the Wake Forest Demon Deacon sports mascot. So, Halloween is the big bad wolf in many arenas, another proof of the total decline of Western culture. At the same time, many main-line Bible folks will put on a pair of fangs, drool a little blood, pick up a hatchet, or wear a glow-in-the-dark mask to join in the annual spook-fest. Can that little girl in the grape outfit be a messenger of Satan, a ghoul disguised as innocent fruit? Just the same, are the fine people in the dark house, all the lights extinguished, not participating in Halloween really obedient Christians? 

Here we go, the "in the world" and "not of the world" thing that has us positioned in opposite corners again. This week we'll do trunk or treats, treasure nights, haunted mansions, scavenger hunts, fall festivals, and a few throw back hell houses. Some will party on in voguish costumes echoing Twilight and Walking Dead themes. Once church I read about is sponsoring a Zombie Apocalypse party. If it's a come as you are deal, we're all in trouble!

Yes, I did Halloween as a child, ran the neighborhood with my brother, sister, and other children, hoarding a grocery sack of goodies from popcorn balls to really good cany bars. It was a kinder, simpler time and most of us wore home-made costumes, not usually all that creative. You know, a pirate, a baseball player, once a ghoulish kid wearing a sheet. There were princesses, Mickey and Minnie Mouses, and even a couple of kids in diapers. Generally, it was safe, clean fun.

The times have shifted. Yes, if you look hard enough you can uncover evil at the core of just about anything. And, there will be plenty of devilish conduct Thursday night, dysfunctional people who have to destroy property, and hurt others. Still, there can be good, clean, all-American fun, where very fine people can be in the times but not of them. I applaud churches that provide an alternative, a safe place when neighbor- hood families can escape the dangers of the mean streets.

We're doing trunk or treat tonight. So, the Awana children will come on our to the parking lot and get some goodies from car trunks like ours---decorated with Harriet's Boyds Bears. Then, Thursday night, I'll dress up like a Bible character, greet kids at the door, wish them happy All Saints Eve, and give them a treat.

What does it mean that Harriet suggested I be Methuselah?

 

May the Force be with us

Leave it to my techie wife to keep this OCD guy plugged into the twenty-first century. So, she ordered a pair of the new FitBit Force wireless activity tracker bracelets for Christmas this year. What a blessing! Her fingers did the walking and they should arrive just before we leave for our trip to Israel 12/9. The Force will be with us!

Well, yes, we are gadget freaks. But, when people asked how I knocked off more than 75 lbs. over the past year, I have to give my FitBit One device some of the credit. It's possible a much cheaper and totally unplugged muzzle would have accomplished the goal. But, these little digital counters aren't quite so obvious and do a much better job tracking the numbers that keep me on target most of the time. Throughout the day I'm reminded of of the goals I've set and the blank spaces I'm supposed to fill in tracking progress every day. It's an OCD helper.

So, the Force will tract my steps, calories burned, miles accumulated, stairs climbed, and active minutes during the day. Flip a switch and it will measure nightly sleep as well. Too bad we can't sync the Force with our Sleep Number bed and let it make a few bed softness adjustments during the night. Maybe not! At the same time, the new FitBit Force will transmit my data to the FitBit dashboard on my MAC so I can keep us with progress daily, weekly, etc. For a person with a 64 year weight problem this is a real help.

In the strength department, I was short-changed on discipline. The Gallup Strength Finder 2.0 system rates discipline in the lower five of my personal strength array. So, the Achiever in me (top five strengths) needs lists, agendas, daily planning guides, and to-do reminders to stay on track. So, while some people can exercise discipline enough to trim back the calories or pump up the burn, I need something screaming at me. So, the FitBit One Harriet gave me last Christmas has been the deal. Every day it sends my data to the dashboard and guides the diet, exercise, water intake, blood sugars, blood pressure, and any of the other indicators I wish to track. It may not be necessary for anybody else. But, it's helped me drop the weight and keep it off.

Here's a lesson. I need something like the Force, the digital tracker and not some cosmic new-age power, to keep me focused. Maybe you don't. Each of us is wired for life by the creator of all things while we are in our mother's womb. The sooner we know our talents and strengths the sooner we can discover the sweet spot that makes us most fruitful and satisfied with life. If we're believers, He shines, or manifests Himself in us in particular ways as well. He uses these "gifts" and our in-born talents to work in and through us in life. My personal line-up requires things like the Force tracker to help me stay on point with my health concerns. Being Type II diabetic and fighting weight problems for 64 years accelerates the need to stay focused in the health areas. Each of us needs to know how we are wired so that we can answer His call and be His person in this high-speed world.  

There's a confession too. Self-control is a fruit of the spirit and should be evident in my personal spiritual growth. But, my knees quiver and I break into the cold sweats in the presence of chocolate.  This endomorph was born with thirty-two sweet teeth and was diagnosed with diabetes several years ago. The will power ebbs and flows, usually with the demands of the day. So, I keep calorie counters, low-carb diets, and exercise regimens close at hand. The FitBit One has nagged me into some measure of dietary and exercise constraint so that I would maintain a lower profile for more than a year. It helps to be self-aware. 

So, we're waiting on the Force(s) to arrive so we can keep on tracking. And, ma the Force be with us!

Another day older and deeper in debt...NOT!

The old Tennessee Ernie Ford hit "Sixteen Tons"  wasn't really a birthday song. But, it did include the line "...another day older and deeper in debt...", perhaps a reflection about longevity. I usually see every day as a gift from above and so affect some form of life assessment as part of the daily routine. Still, celebrating birthday 64 yesterday was a great time to scroll through life and do some reality check about my own debt sitution. The truth about this element of life is really humbling. 

Usually we're humming the "I owe, I owe, it's off to work we go" (sung to the tune of "Hi Ho, Hi Ho, it's off to work we go", from Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs), the refrain of an indebted world. Even if the balance sheets are in order, most of us feel under water or upside down in many of the relational categories. I mean, I can't review my personal liabilities without a list of serious indebtedness.

Of course, being a believer casts my eyes upwards at first blush. He is with me at every turn, fulfills His many promises beyond my wildest imagination, has forgiven my sinful nature, entrusted the Good News and His church to my stewardship, and overlooks the personal flaws that hinder my call every single day. If you start adding these benefits in a column it would be astronomical, a sum beyond even the most precise human calculation. As tick marks annotate these blessings, the reality adds an important footnote. "He erased the certificate of debt, with its obligations, that was against us and opposed to us, and has taken it out of the way by nailing it to the cross" (Colossians 2:14). Incredibly, the debt is cancelled. Glory!

Of course, my personal evaluation involves a long list of people who have touched my life over the past 64 years. Gracious me, the stretch of life places many fine folks in the path, people who have lined the way with their kindnesses, words, prayers, gifts, encouragment, and even aggravations. Many of their names and faces have been blurred by the years. But, their unique imprint on my heart is etched in deep and indelible ways. It is only natural that they stand out as debts, something owed because they influenced me in such clear ways. Then, again, truth intervenes. The list then, is narrowed into two categories: those in the family of faith, and those not. 

Once again, Scripture clarifies. Paul wrote, "Do not owe anyone anything except to love one another, for the one who loves another has fulfilled the law" (Romans 13:8). I don't owe them anything. They love me and have contributed to my life out of their love. It's not a debt. In the other category, those not in the family, there's the need to repay evil with good, to love and pray for them, forgive them generously where it is appropriate, and to speak grace into their lives. At the same time, there's the realization this assignment is a privilege and joy, not an obligation. The debt stuff just gets better and better.

So, it's another day older, but not deeper in debt. When the day began yesterday my personal devotion took me to Psalm 3, the fifth verse. King David wrote, "I lie down and sleep; I wake again because the Lord sustains me". The new day, every day, and especially on the date of our birth, is a precious gift from God. We may wake to it because He sustains us and guides us.

In Christ, the debt is cancelled, and we are introduced to the new world of life in Him, with new standards, a new balance sheet, and life in the economy of heaven.

All assets. Totally WOW!

Thank you, Esther...

King David wrote, "Teach us to number our days carefully so that we may develop wisdom in our hearts" (Psalm 90:12). So, since I'm downloading iOS 64 today, I decided to do the math and give this accounting of my days.

Birth date: 27 October, 1949
Today I am 23375 days old. Which is 3339 weeks and 2 days. That's 64 years, including 16 leap years,or 63 years, 52 weeks and 0 days. In other words, that's 768.03 months. Therefore, I am 64 years old. I was born on a Thursday.

Pretty slick, right. Before you marvel at iOS 64, let me confess that this fancy math is the product of a neat site that does the math for you. If you want to have some fun with your days, or amaze your friends with your counting skills, go here.

For most of my adult life I dedicated my birth day each you my mother, Esther Mae Owens Holmes. it was my joy each year to either send her a gift for the day, or take one to her in person. You see, I really didn't do anything on October 27, 1949, when it came my time to enter this world. No, they took her to what was ominously called the "labor room" and she did all the work so that I could make my entrance. Well, yes, there was a doctor and some nurses present, but young Esther Holmes endured the hours of excruciating pain and hard work so that I could have life. 

That experience was a dark mystery to me until I was in the labor room with Harriet during the delivery os our son, Brian Eliot Holmes, December 17, 1977. Until then the labor room was off limits to the men folk and the idea of labor was a mysterious secret hidden form the male gender of our species. Later in history men started having kidney stones so we could approximate delivery. But, at any rate, when I saw Harriet struggle, and sweat, and push, and breath---when her headed spun around and in the devil voice she said, "This is your fault"---it struck me that this thing about the labor room was real. Since then, my birthday became about Esther Mae.

OK, thologue, I know God is the author of life and Jesus is the life. But, my mother, and yours too, went through an ordeal to give us life, and we should be forever grateful. So, for many years I gave my mother a small gift to honor her on that day. When she entered eternity in 2008 this gratitude became a memory. So, today, I'm thanking God for the woman who suffered much so that I could enjoy the blessings of this life.

Why don't you reverse things on your birthday too. Give your mom a call or a note to thank her for the gift of life.

Thanks for all the birthday wishes. Thank you, Esther for life.

Unspoken

The most profound thought ever communicated to me was transmitted without a single word. It was a painful time and my friend just embraced me. Underneath his gesture was deep life lesson. You see, when the people close to us encounter the horrors of this life, we want to help. Words are most often the life-line we extend to them, the most available comfort food we can offer when things have gone harsh. Yet, even when we can shape and contrive them for the unique realities of the hour, they just as often miss the mark. Even more, we're apt to cough up the words that are mose familiar to us, and they don't always fit the context of the moment. So, even our best aimed Sunday School language or the softest words of Jesus turn out to be inappropriate for the circumstance. 

But a gesture says a lot without saying a lot. The embrace surrounded me in warmth, a loving touch that could not be missed. Much later, reflecting on the way that embrace comforted me, I thought of Jesus when he learned of his friend Lazarus had died. It is the shortest verse in the Bible, but what may be the most lasting lesson. You know it. "Jesus wept" (John 11:35). There were no words. Just a heart-moving reaction, an instantaneous response that joined Him to the sisters and the crowd. Words came later, of course, in the raising of Lazarus from the dead. The tears, however, had already established the connection.

Having experienced so much heart-break with people over the course of thirty years as a pastor, I continue to marvel at the power of these gestures, the silent touch that seems to ease the moment or at least join it. Our words often come from the memory bank and not the heart, try as we might for sincerity and authenticity. But, who can mistake the assurance of a look or a touch, the knowing connection of eyes or even flesh, the strong arms that engulf our sorrow in a secure embrace.

And then, there are times when we really don't have words adequate for the hour, but the need for them compels us to come up with something, appropriate or not. More and more my advice is to allow an assuring look or a soft hand to be the connection. Even, at times, to stand silently in the corner so that your friend can at the least see you close by.

Perhaps the unspoken truth is the most profound. And, we should once again learn the encouragement of presence, the power of silence, and the joy of being near.

Happy and blessed Saturday.    

Lighten up

Everybody is uptight these days. You know, tense, wired, living on the ragged edge. Tapping our fingers, rolling our eyes, gnawing our lips, chewing our nails, and every other nervous tick common to the human species. Prices are rising, salaries are falling, government is out of control, crime is on the increase, the Tigers got beat, the Gamecocks got beat, the Bucs got beat, and the bad guys seem to be winning. So, our nerves are shot, our patience tested, and our humor exhausted. What we need is to lighten up.

So, do me a favor. Take a couple of deep breaths, take a look at the kitty pictured above and remember, "A joyful heart is good medicine, but a broken spirit dries up the bones" (Proverbs 17:22). Then, pause a few minutes over this...

An elderly woman decided to have her portrait painted. She told the artist” Paint me with diamond earrings, a diamond necklace, emerald bracelets, a ruby broach, and gold Rolex." "But you are not wearing any of those things" replied the artist.

"I know," she said. "It's in case I should die before my husband. I'm sure
he will remarry right away, and I want his new wife to go crazy looking for
the jewelry."

Or this...

A grasshopper walks into a bar and the bartender says, 'Hey, we have a drink named after you!'

The grasshopper looks surprised and says, 'You have a drink named Steve?'

OK, relax, laugh, smile, and bring some joy to someone else today.

Hey, it's Friday! 

The language barrier

Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Sed sed est nunc. Duis ultricies pellentesque lorem, et mattis sem scelerisque adipiscing. In non commodo augue. Vestibulum ante ipsum primis in faucibus orci luctus et ultrices posuere cubilia Curae; Fusce sit amet elit pellentesque eros sagittis sagittis. Pellentesque dignissim tortor a lorem posuere adipiscing. Ut id massa at felis faucibus varius et id justo.

Well, sure, that made a lot of sense. It's Lorem Ipsum, the language type-setters and printers use to demonstrate layouts. You can read about it, and access the Lorem Ipsum Generator here. That's what I did in order to create the above paragraph of useless text above. Evidently, people selecting layout designs for printed data can concentrate on the design more when the text is indistinct. OK, so there's your useless information for the day. 

Stick with me. The other day I ran into a guy at Starbucks who had visited our church recently. His name was Ray, he was under thirty, enjoyed one of those frappe coffee brews, and wasn't a regular church attender. He recognized me as the guy up there on the stage and said he liked my talk. He loved the music and wasn't bashful when he told me he didn't understand what I talked about. He was like the professor who graded a theology dissertation. He wrote on the bottom of the paper, "I understood every word, but not a single sentence."  Ray said my talk was like that. It made me think of Lorem Ipsum. To Ray, my sermon was like interpreting Lorem Ipsum. Ouch!!

There's an assumption that everyone is going to comprehend our church or spiritual talk. Yes, I fully understand the work of the Holy Spirit, the way the Word reaches across cultures, how truth communicates in spite of our human frailties, and the efficacy of Scripture. But, I also read "Write down this vision; clearly inscribe it on tablets" (Habakkuk 2:2), or, again, when the Apostle Paul wrote, "I speak as to my children..." (2 Cor. 6:13), or when he wrote, "...yet in the church I would rather speak five words with my understanding, in order to teach others also, than 10,000 words in another language" (1 Cor. 14:19). Evidently the New Testament preachers valued speaking with clarity and using language that people could understand. Paul explained things, reasoned with them from Scripture, and spoke to people from various backgrounds. He became all things to all people so that some could be saved (1 Cor.9:22).

 

So, Ray reminded me that I must serve God in my own generation and learn to speak the eternal unchanging truths of His word in ways that communicate to this culture. And, that is a challenge for most of us. Shoot, the world talks different today. I kid a lot about syncing iOS 63 (my age till Sunday), with iOS 7, and all the dialects of the digital world. Text language baffles me, some of the new hand signals make me mad till I decipher them, and tagging requires a Rosetta Stone tool for interpretation. It's a constant learning curve. 

But, interpreting the stats about the Millennial generations isn't quantum physics. They don't require extrapolation or math games. If that cohort is going to hear the message of Christ, us old guys, creatures of habit to be sure, set in our ways, with the church stuff down pat, must unlearn some old things, and learn some new ones. How nice it would be to meet Ray at Starbucks and hear him evidence at least some understanding of what it was about that day.

Fusce sit amet elit pellentesque eros sagittis sagittis. Amen.

   

The gracious art of re-potting

The poor plant is drooping. It receives the correct amount of sunlight, is watered on schedule, and is even talked to on occasion. But, it still looks anemic and tired. So, you finally Google the plant type and the people who do the re-potting for Dummies site (go here to check it out). They advise to remove the plant from it's current pot, check out the root system, and follow the instructions to re-pot the plant. It's an act of agricultural grace, giving the plant an opportunity to thrive and grow. You are a grace ambulance.

Holy moly, I've got a black thumb. What is more, Harriet and I resigned from the yard of the month club ten years ago when we purchased a condominium. In the process of spiritual maturity and humane treatment of the plant world we've also discovered the joys of silk. Still, we received beautiful potted plants from thoughtful friends when our son Brian died two years ago. They are such precious reminders of the dear people who sent them and the blessings of life. But, with black thumbs, keeping them alive is a test for both of us. So, eventually they sagged. That's when we learned the grace of re-potting.

Out of the pot they were a tangled mess. The root systems were chaos, a knotted jumble of tiny impotent roots. No wonder the miserable peace lilies were jaundiced and stunted. They needed to be trimmed and placed into more suitable pots. The pots they came in were sufficient when they were tiny, thriving shoots. But, now they had grown out of them. Older, more mature, they needed to be re-potted.

Yes, every comparison breaks down at some point, and so does the re-potting deal. In church life these days a related term is the rage in church revitalization. You know, many old churches are being re-planted. It's a vital, fresh idea for giving life to dying churches in rapidly changing communities. Sometimes, however, perhaps a simple re-potting would work. In fact, the re-potting idea may be more to the point when thinking about other disconnected spiritual universes---denominations, state conventions, local associations, and then churches. Sometimes the problem is like what was ailing our sickly peace lilies. They can't grow or flourish because the life has been squeezed out of them by intertwined and plaited roots. 

So the Dummies site says the first move is to trim the mess, cut away some of the twisted undergrowth. In institutional life, it may be to simplify the governing system, to unravel the meshed roots that have strangled the life out of it. It's not such an odd occurrence, operating systems being too cumbersome and awkward for the super-structure it is feeding. The lily can't breathe or digest or sprout new growth because the root system is too extensive, braided to the point of choking. They're like the layers of by-laws, committees, procedures, rules and regulations, formal and informal structures, hoops, hurdles, barriers, territories, traditions, gate-keepers, owners, not to mention matriarchs and patriarchs, and more, that have suffocated what were vibrant, vital, and growing organizations. 

So, there it is, the sluggish, inert, organization asphyxiated by its own roots. And, all that is needed, at least as a first move, to restore circulation is to prune back the jumbled mess so the life can flow again. 

Roots, branches, vines, fruit, harvests, and things agricultural are significnat biblical themes. Institutions and organizations, including churches and other spiritual groups must intentionally resist the strangling tendencies of governing systems. Sometimes the system becomes the vine, and in the church that is serious spiritual error. Every church and para-church unit, as well as denominational entities, must constantly review, simplify, and update their documents and systems to insure that the real vine remains the vine, and to use another metaphor, the Head remains the Head.

How can this happen? Guts? Conviction? Biblical imperative? Boldness? Or, maybe just plain obedience? Jesus said, "I am the vine; you are the branches. The one who remains in me and I in him produces much fruit, because you can do nothing without me" (John 15:5). Certainly the idea applies to the church as well as to individual believers. When all the systems and mechanics become the main connection, the branches will be like our poor lilies.

For Jesus is the Life.

Truth, facts, and rose colored glasses

What the little kid in the dugout said resonates with me a lot. A man walked up and asked how the game was going. The kid said, "not bad. We're losing 24-0." "Oooh. That's awful. Aren't you discouraged about such a lop-sided score?", the man asked. "Nah," the kid said, "we haven't even come to bat yet!". My kind of kid, rose-colored glasses and all. 

Then, of course, there are the facts. Mark Twain said, "Get the facts first, then you can distort them as you please". Still, even when we're gifted at weaving the facts in our own direction they can create cracks in the rose colored glasses.  Reality is like that. Just the same, it's fun rummaging through the box of manure in search of the pony hidden in there somewhere. I mean, they are still essentially rose colored, even if cracked.

Then, enter truth. So, here is the basic life question, what is truth? This definition can be debated all day long by people a lot smarter than me. In the broadest sense, truth is what is true, the quality or state of being true, a statement or idea that is true or accepted as true. My personal Christian faith casts this discussion in another direction, defining truth as a "who" and not a "what". Jesus is the truth, and all truth derives from the One who created all things, for whom all things were created, and by whom all things hold together.

So, Mr. Optimist Bible-thumping realist, assess the times. This is where my personal tendencies, teh facts, and the rubrics of faith collide. The facts about culture are indisputable. Even the more liberal observers acknowledge the ramping up of the slippery slope and the continued erosion of national moral standards. Government is apparently dysfunctional, the church is marginalized, the educational system is on life support, and the foundational principles of civilized society are forgotten. We're in a mess. And, those broad characterizations are supported by pages of facts.

The truth is Jesus promised His people trouble in the world and even more so as the Day approaches. More truth is the reminder that He has overcome the world, that the final accounting of all things will register His people as Victors, and that in the end evil will be conquered, Satan thrown into a lake of fire, and His people will live with Him forever in the Heavenly Kingdom. Praise the Lord!

Get your facts first, then you can distort them as you please.

Mark Twain

Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/m/marktwain122862.html#JJ25LxmFmdUUGGIp.99

Get your facts first, then you can distort them as you please.

Mark Twain

Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/m/marktwain122862.html#JJ25LxmFmdUUGGIp.99

Get your facts first, then you can distort them as you please.
Mark Twain
Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/keywords/facts.html#lkaCFbhbbRYpyYWH.99

Get your facts first, then you can distort them as you please.
Mark Twain
Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/keywords/facts.html#lkaCFbhbbRYpyYWH.99

Get your facts first, then you can distort them as you please.
Mark Twain
Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/keywords/facts.html#lkaCFbhbbRYpyYWH.99

So, let's relax, chill, and let the world go to you know where in a hand basket, PDQ. Right? Wrong. If we're talking truth, lets remember He sent us into this very same world to influence it as salt and light, to be His body on the mean streets---His hands, feet, and yes, His voice. We are to speak to the times, confront injustice, challenge the standards of the world, proclaim freedom to the enslaved, and live out this truth as evidence of His grace. We are victors, and should live like them.

The truth also tells us to work while there's light, to make the most of the time, to speak the truth boldly and in love, and hundreds of precepts Jesus left His followers. Of course, we're often pretty selective when choosing which truths to emphasize and teach, and which ones to ignore. This same body of truth advises us to not worry, to pray about everything, rely on His grace as our sufficient provision for all things, and to trust in Him in all matters.

So, armed with faith, His eternal promises, and the assurance of His eternal victory, even with the stark facts of life, Mr. Rose Colored glasses is going to believe that we can influence these times by living the life He empowered us to live.

In Him we have boldness and confident access through faith in Him. Ephesians 3:12