Thursday, December 5, 2013
Jar
Have you ever been in a room where someone is trying to open
a jar? Everyone wants to give it a
try.
"Give it here,
I can do it." Everyone feels that
somehow they will be able to do it better or will have more luck or will do it
in just the right way to get that darn jar open. That feeling is common and very human. Sometimes the feeling is based on knowledge,
i.e. the person feeling that way may indeed be very strong, or have opened jars
before and knows a neat trick that gets the job done nine times out of
ten. Often though, I've found that that
feeling in myself often is based on nothing more than a desire to succeed where
others have failed. Somehow, I'll find
the secret, I'll be stronger, I'll be successful. Sometimes this feeling is encouraged when
having been loosened by the previous efforts, the lid comes off relatively
easy. I feel vindicated, I feel great and sometimes superior.
I sometimes feel that new people coming into a ministry
situation are like the person seeing someone struggling with the pickle jar top
and thinking, "oo, oo, give that to me, I can open it!" The subtext is, "You just weren't doing
it right, or your fingers just weren't strong enough." Sometimes, as in the case of the jar,
previous ministry efforts have made the situation ready for fruit and the new
comer effort added to the what has gone on before causes great forward movement
in a ministry. Sometimes the newcomer
tries and tries and still ends up with a jar that is stuck shut.
I acknowledge, that just as in the case of the jar, there
are times when a person needs help to get something done and that in the case
of ministry, sometimes we need someone of more maturity and spiritual strength
to open the jar for us or perhaps we just need more people to lend their
strength and collaborate with us in order to get the thing done. However, I wish for more maturity on the
part all parties.
I would wish that the new personnel would be aware of this
very human urge in themselves and be careful.
Beware of the feeling that the reason that the jar is still closed (why there doesn't seem to
be the expected fruit in ministry), is because of some deficit in the original
efforts. It may just be a stubborn jar,
one that needs a lot of force to open. If
the ministry does take off, beware of feeling vindicated or superior as the
success seen is first and foremost from the Lord, but also upon previous effort
and foundations laid by others.
Of course the new members should join their effort to what's
going on. Asking to have a try is not
the problem. The desire on all parties
is to have the jar open after all!
(There are cases where the original worker would rather break the bottle
than let anyone else open it, but I'm not addressing that here). The problem is one of motivation. What motivates us to ask/demand that we
should have a chance to do it (whatever it is).
If our motivations are wrong, there will be consequences and hard
feelings.
Spiritual maturity on the part of the new worker looks like
being eager to join in the effort but humbly acknowledging that, at least in
the beginning, what they have to offer is more energy than strategy. They should be careful not to jump to
conclusions when they are still ignorant of all that has gone before.
Spiritual maturity in a seasoned worker is acknowledging
that God works in newbies as well. That
new strategies, a fresh look and energy can open doors that were thought to
have been nailed shut. Both seasoned and
unseasoned should remember that they were all sent to do the will of Lord. Respect and Love for the Lord and one another
can cover a multitude of immaturities.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Thursday, March 12, 2009
What do you do for fun?
When I actually have time to do anything fun, I often paint. These are my most recent paintings.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Sopron, Hungary
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
The Evil eye.The concept is that if you have something that someone might envy. You are in danger of having a curse of ill-will on you. Albanian's are very fearful of this and have many ways of warding off this curse. They might have something like these eye beads. They might put a stuffed animal, flag, garlic or a ram's horn up. This is supposed to lure the evil eye away because it draws it to those things instead. They are also careful about complimenting someone or appreciating somebody's things too much. You don't want to inadvertently put the evil eye on
someone or be blamed for bad things happening in other people's lives.In America I think it might correlate it to our expression, knock on wood. The feeling that somehow if we admit that we are doing well, or that we are really happy, or that we like something too much that somehow it's going to taken away from us. If it's too good to be true, it is.
A stuffed person, chicken head and garlic put up to protect new construction from the evil eye.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Why the pain?
The man's life was pleasant. So too was worship. The two always go together.
God was not pleased. So He allowed the man's life to become unpleasant.
The man responded with shock. "How can this be? How could this happen in my life?"
Beneath the shock, the man was smug. But he could not see it. he thought it was trust. "this will soon pass. God is faithful, life will again be pleasant."His worship remained shallow.
God was not pleased. So He allowed more unpleasant things to happen in the man's life.
The man tried hard to handle his frustrations well, like someone who trusted God. "I will be patient," he resolved.
But he didn't notice that his efforts to be patient grew out of the conviction that a pleasant life was his due. He did not hear his own heart saying, "If I'm patient, God will make things pleasant again. That's His job."
His worship became a way to convince God to restore his pleasant life.
God was not pleased. So He pulled back His hedge of protection around the man a little farther. The man's life became miserable.
The man got angry. God seemed unmoved, indifferent, uncaring, Heaven's door slammed shut. The man knew he could not pry it open.
He could think only of better days...not better days coming, but of better days before, days that no longer were and that showed no signs of returning.
His highest dreams were returning to those days, to the pleasant life he once knew, when he felt what he had called joy.
He could not imagine a higher dream than going backward to what once was. But he knew life never moved backward. Adults never become children again. Old people never recover the energy of their most productive years.
So he lost hope. God had withdrawn His blessing, and there was no indication He would change His mind.
The man fell into depression. His worship stopped.
God was not pleased. So He released the forces of hell into the man's life.
Temptations that formerly were manageable now became irresistible. The pain of living was so great that the pleasure the temptations afforded, relief really, seemed reasonable and necessary. But after the pleasure came a new kind of pain, a kind of pain that covered his soul with a fog that not even the brightest sun could penetrate.
The man could see only his pain. He could not see God. He thought he could, but the god he saw was the one whose job it was to relieve pain. He could imagine this god, but he could not find him.
He addressed the only god he knew. He begged for help. Beneath his words of pleading he could almost hear what his heart was saying: "You owe me help. I will never believe I deserved all this to happen. This pain is not my fault. It's yours."
His worship had always taken the form of a demand, but now the demand was so obvious the man could almost recognize it.
God was not pleased. So He let the struggles continue. And God allowed new troubles to come into the man's life.
In the part of the man's heart that dreamed his greatest dreams, he had been certain he would never have to face these new troubles that were now in his life. For years he had said in his heart (without actually hearing it), "That could never happen to me. If it did, my life would be over. If that happened, I'd have no choice but to conclude that God isn't good. I would have to dismiss Go. And no one, not even God, could fault me."
But still the man could not hear his heart speak. What he could hear was a seductive voice that made the worst temptation he had ever faced... to lose hope in God... seem noble, bravely defiant, the only way left for the man to find himself.
The battle waxed hot. But a flicker of hope remained. The man held on to his faith. Even as he did, he could not hear his heart saying, "I have every right to give up on my faith. But I'm choosing the truly noble way. I still believe in You. I still believe you're there and that my highest hopes for joy...whatever hopes are left... lie with you. Does that impress you? If not, my God, what does?"
His worship was more desperate than ever. But is was still proud.
God was not pleased. So He allowed the man's trials to continue and his pain to remain unabated. God kept His distance from the man. He provided no comfort, no tangible reason to hope. It was difficult for God not to make everything better in the man's life. It was even more difficult for Him not to appear directly to the man and assure him of His presence.
But He didn't. God had a greater dream for the man than a return to a pleasant life. He wanted the man to find true joy. He longed to restore the man's hope for what mattered most. But still the man did not know what that was.
The fog around the man's soul thickened until he could feel it, like walls closing in. All that was left was mystery: there was fear certainly, even terror, but more acute was the sense of mystery, the mystery of a bad life and a good God.
Where was He? When the man became most aware of his need for God, God disappeared. It made no sense. Was God there or not? If He was, did He care? Or didn't He?
The man could not give up on God. He remembered Jacob. So he began to fight. But he fought in the dark, a darkness so deep that he could no longer see his dreams of a pleasant life.
In deep darkness, you cannot see. But you can hear. He could hear for the first time what his heart was saying.
"Bless me!" he cried. From his deepest soul, he could hear words reflecting a resolve that would not let go of God.
"Bless me! Not because I am good, but because You are good. Bless me! Not because I deserve Your blessing, but because it is Your nature to bless. You really can't help Yourself. I appeal not to who I am. You owe me nothing. I appeal only to who You are."
He still saw his pain. But now he saw God. And the cry for blessing was no longer a demand for a pleasant life. It was a cry for whatever God wanted to do, for whoever He was. The man felt something different. It was the beginning of humility. But the very fact of what it was kept him from seeing what it was.
The man had forgotten himself and discovered his desire for God. He did not find God right away, but he had hope, hope that he might experience what his soul most deeply longed for.
Then he saw it. Fresh water bubbled up from a spring in the desert of his soul, and he saw it. It was a new dream. He could see it's contours take shape. It was a dream of actually knowing God and representing Him in an unpleasant world. The dream took on a specific focus: he saw how he could know God and represent God to others in a way that was his way and not someone else's. It felt like coming home.
He realized immediately that his power to speak on behalf of God to others in the midst of their unpleasant lives depended on his speaking from the midst of his own unpleasantness. He had never before felt grateful for his troubles.
His suffering became to him a doorway into God's heart. He shared God's pain in His great project of redemption. Suffering together for a single cause made him feel closer to God.
A new thought occured to him. "I will join with whatever forces are opposed to the root of this unpleasantness. I will ally with goodness against evil. I will not wait to see more clearly; what my hand finds to do, I will do. But I will stay close to the spring. My soul is thirsty. A pleasant life is not water for my soul: whatever comes from God... whoever God is... this is the only true water. And it is enough."
The man worshiped God, and God was pleased. So God kept the water bubbling up out of the spring in the man's soul. When the man didn't drink every morning from the spring or return every evening to drink again, his thirst became intolerable.
Some things in his life got better. Some things stayed the same. Some things got worse
But the man was dreaming a new dreams, greater dreams than a pleasant life. And he found the courage to pursue them. He was now a man with hope, and his hope brought joy
God was very pleased, and so was the man.
Shattered Dreams, by Larry Crabb
God was not pleased. So He allowed the man's life to become unpleasant.
The man responded with shock. "How can this be? How could this happen in my life?"
Beneath the shock, the man was smug. But he could not see it. he thought it was trust. "this will soon pass. God is faithful, life will again be pleasant."His worship remained shallow.
God was not pleased. So He allowed more unpleasant things to happen in the man's life.
The man tried hard to handle his frustrations well, like someone who trusted God. "I will be patient," he resolved.
But he didn't notice that his efforts to be patient grew out of the conviction that a pleasant life was his due. He did not hear his own heart saying, "If I'm patient, God will make things pleasant again. That's His job."
His worship became a way to convince God to restore his pleasant life.
God was not pleased. So He pulled back His hedge of protection around the man a little farther. The man's life became miserable.
The man got angry. God seemed unmoved, indifferent, uncaring, Heaven's door slammed shut. The man knew he could not pry it open.
He could think only of better days...not better days coming, but of better days before, days that no longer were and that showed no signs of returning.
His highest dreams were returning to those days, to the pleasant life he once knew, when he felt what he had called joy.
He could not imagine a higher dream than going backward to what once was. But he knew life never moved backward. Adults never become children again. Old people never recover the energy of their most productive years.
So he lost hope. God had withdrawn His blessing, and there was no indication He would change His mind.
The man fell into depression. His worship stopped.
God was not pleased. So He released the forces of hell into the man's life.
Temptations that formerly were manageable now became irresistible. The pain of living was so great that the pleasure the temptations afforded, relief really, seemed reasonable and necessary. But after the pleasure came a new kind of pain, a kind of pain that covered his soul with a fog that not even the brightest sun could penetrate.
The man could see only his pain. He could not see God. He thought he could, but the god he saw was the one whose job it was to relieve pain. He could imagine this god, but he could not find him.
He addressed the only god he knew. He begged for help. Beneath his words of pleading he could almost hear what his heart was saying: "You owe me help. I will never believe I deserved all this to happen. This pain is not my fault. It's yours."
His worship had always taken the form of a demand, but now the demand was so obvious the man could almost recognize it.
God was not pleased. So He let the struggles continue. And God allowed new troubles to come into the man's life.
In the part of the man's heart that dreamed his greatest dreams, he had been certain he would never have to face these new troubles that were now in his life. For years he had said in his heart (without actually hearing it), "That could never happen to me. If it did, my life would be over. If that happened, I'd have no choice but to conclude that God isn't good. I would have to dismiss Go. And no one, not even God, could fault me."
But still the man could not hear his heart speak. What he could hear was a seductive voice that made the worst temptation he had ever faced... to lose hope in God... seem noble, bravely defiant, the only way left for the man to find himself.
The battle waxed hot. But a flicker of hope remained. The man held on to his faith. Even as he did, he could not hear his heart saying, "I have every right to give up on my faith. But I'm choosing the truly noble way. I still believe in You. I still believe you're there and that my highest hopes for joy...whatever hopes are left... lie with you. Does that impress you? If not, my God, what does?"
His worship was more desperate than ever. But is was still proud.
God was not pleased. So He allowed the man's trials to continue and his pain to remain unabated. God kept His distance from the man. He provided no comfort, no tangible reason to hope. It was difficult for God not to make everything better in the man's life. It was even more difficult for Him not to appear directly to the man and assure him of His presence.
But He didn't. God had a greater dream for the man than a return to a pleasant life. He wanted the man to find true joy. He longed to restore the man's hope for what mattered most. But still the man did not know what that was.
The fog around the man's soul thickened until he could feel it, like walls closing in. All that was left was mystery: there was fear certainly, even terror, but more acute was the sense of mystery, the mystery of a bad life and a good God.
Where was He? When the man became most aware of his need for God, God disappeared. It made no sense. Was God there or not? If He was, did He care? Or didn't He?
The man could not give up on God. He remembered Jacob. So he began to fight. But he fought in the dark, a darkness so deep that he could no longer see his dreams of a pleasant life.
In deep darkness, you cannot see. But you can hear. He could hear for the first time what his heart was saying.
"Bless me!" he cried. From his deepest soul, he could hear words reflecting a resolve that would not let go of God.
"Bless me! Not because I am good, but because You are good. Bless me! Not because I deserve Your blessing, but because it is Your nature to bless. You really can't help Yourself. I appeal not to who I am. You owe me nothing. I appeal only to who You are."
He still saw his pain. But now he saw God. And the cry for blessing was no longer a demand for a pleasant life. It was a cry for whatever God wanted to do, for whoever He was. The man felt something different. It was the beginning of humility. But the very fact of what it was kept him from seeing what it was.
The man had forgotten himself and discovered his desire for God. He did not find God right away, but he had hope, hope that he might experience what his soul most deeply longed for.
Then he saw it. Fresh water bubbled up from a spring in the desert of his soul, and he saw it. It was a new dream. He could see it's contours take shape. It was a dream of actually knowing God and representing Him in an unpleasant world. The dream took on a specific focus: he saw how he could know God and represent God to others in a way that was his way and not someone else's. It felt like coming home.
He realized immediately that his power to speak on behalf of God to others in the midst of their unpleasant lives depended on his speaking from the midst of his own unpleasantness. He had never before felt grateful for his troubles.
His suffering became to him a doorway into God's heart. He shared God's pain in His great project of redemption. Suffering together for a single cause made him feel closer to God.
A new thought occured to him. "I will join with whatever forces are opposed to the root of this unpleasantness. I will ally with goodness against evil. I will not wait to see more clearly; what my hand finds to do, I will do. But I will stay close to the spring. My soul is thirsty. A pleasant life is not water for my soul: whatever comes from God... whoever God is... this is the only true water. And it is enough."
The man worshiped God, and God was pleased. So God kept the water bubbling up out of the spring in the man's soul. When the man didn't drink every morning from the spring or return every evening to drink again, his thirst became intolerable.
Some things in his life got better. Some things stayed the same. Some things got worse
But the man was dreaming a new dreams, greater dreams than a pleasant life. And he found the courage to pursue them. He was now a man with hope, and his hope brought joy
God was very pleased, and so was the man.
Shattered Dreams, by Larry Crabb
Friday, August 22, 2008
Friday, August 15, 2008
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)