Do I Really Have to Brush My Teeth?

Brush Your Teeth

Have you ever woke up and just not wanted to brush your teeth? Oh, come on, I can’t be the only one who feels that way! Really? I am? Well, that’s awkward. Momma always said I was stranger than a three legged cat wearing a turtle shell and smoking a cigar.

So, anyway, as I am getting…umm…slightly more mature these days, I am finding that my body is rebelling. I’m serious you guys, I hurt in places I didn’t know I had…or could it be I forgot I had? Hmm, so I wake up in the morning and my knees are hurting, my back is usually feeling like I have been imitating a contortionist all night long, and even my eyes hurt. I put my work clothes on, go down stairs scratching my beard, and…err…other parts unknown. As I walk in the bathroom I see my toothbrush and I think to myself, “I work with a bunch of guys who chew dip, does it really matter if I brush my teeth? I could just gargle some Listerine and I would still be ahead of the game”. Yes, that really happens to me.

Think about it, life would be so much easier if we just didn’t have to brush our teeth. I mean the strength it takes to pick up the brush, squeeze the tube, raise it up to our mouth, and push the “on” button, not to mention keeping that buzzing projectile of doom under control…sheesh, that thing is dangerous! Think of what could be done with all that energy; fossil fuels would no longer be needed, the nations would find peace, men would enjoy talking to their wives more than watching football, kids would go outside and play and never touch an electronic device again (except to read my blog. Way to go kids!), and we would have more time to weave baskets…because that’s what the world needs, more straw baskets!

So, do I really have to brush my teeth?

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If I Were Not a Christian

Oh the things I could do if I were not a Christian. They are many and quite interesting and oh how I would embrace them, if only I were not bound to this heavy weight of Christianity. If only I were not compelled to walk this narrow way, if I were a camel unable to fit through this tiny eye of the needle, had never heard of the cross, the resurrection, the new life, and heaven and hell. Woe is me for I am a man of a heavy burden! For…

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THE CHOICE IS YOURS!

I came across this today and thought I would share it with you all. It goes well with last night’s post. We have a choice every day whether to live by our emotions it choose to live weigh joy.

 

I have a friend who wakes up all aglow and usually singing.  My late Mom often woke up singing church hymns.  Me?  Clear the way!  I need my coffee, shower, and quiet-time!  Yes,  I sometimes awake…

Source: THE CHOICE IS YOURS!

What Am I Doing Here?

Angry man2

Well, I told you in my first post, The Most Narcissistic Blog Ever, I would, at times, be “painfully transparent” and today is one of those days.

I am angry, maybe livid is a better word. Yeah, I like that, it seems to be closer to what I am feeling inside. I certainly don’t feel like the hero of the faith I desire to be, more like the Grumpy Old Troll of the faith. But not the slightly annoying but oddly cute little guy on the kids cartoon Dora the Explorer, no, I’m more sinister than that. More like the big, fat, ugly, blabbering trolls who attempt to eat Bilbo Baggins in the Lord of the Rings movie, which I can’t remember the name of right now and I am simply too frustrated to

Google for fact checking. Heck I don’t even know if I spelled Bilbo’s name right or if it was him they tried to eat…and that makes me angry!

What am I doing Here? Continue reading

When You’ve Got Nothing Good to Say, Say Something!

I am sitting here in my recliner where I just finished reading a few chapters in the book of Isaiah which is one of my favorite books, just sayin’. I have a big, soft, fluffy blanket laying over my legs which my girlfriend gave me for Christmas. I have a blanket on my legs in the middle of summer because I like to keep my air on the Turbo Antarctic setting that way I can cozy up in my recliner and read with said blanket over my legs without sweating like an eighty pound super lightweight boxer in the locker room before his fight with Evander Holyfield. I am literally trying to keep my eyes open because it is only eight pm and if I fall asleep now, I will be wide awake in three to four hours and won’t be able to fall back asleep until around three am (I know this from much experience).

typingAs I sit here, with my laptop doing what laptops do, I type something, look at it, backspace to blank screen, type something else, look at it, backspace, rinse and repeat, over and over as my eyes slowly fade to black. It is a very aggravating state and all I keep thinking about is the old saying, “If you don’t have anything good to say, then say nothing at all”

I can’t tell you how many times I have heard this saying. If I had a penny for every time…well, I’d have a lot of good things to say! This blog would have an article for every day and, heck if I hit writer’s block I could simply hire a ghost writer and you all would be none the wiser! But what happens when you want to type the Good News but the words just don’t come?

Let’s face it, there are times when we cannot seem to find the words to say or maybe we have the words floating around in our head but can’t seem to pull them out and put them together in a way that makes a logical progression of thought provoking commentary. Maybe we are tired, frustrated from the day, worried about a future event, insecure about our ability to speak the Good News, or a multitude of other reasons for writer’s block. Maybe, we are just lazy. No matter the maybe, there are hundreds of things that hinder us from proclaiming the Good News, that is if we allow them to hinder us.

The truth is, the Good News is so simple even the most non-eloquent of men can proclaim it. God promises, “My word shall not return to me void but shall accomplish what I please” (Isaiah 55:1…I told you I like Isaiah.) So maybe on these days when writer’s block kicks in, and I seem to have nothing of worth to say, I should ignore that saying and just say something.

The truth is, God loved world so much He sent His son. His son spent His life and ministry healing the sick, raising the dead, and being a friend to the outcast. He then suffered inhumane torture at the hands of the Romans because the religious hypocrites couldn’t stand what He represents…grace. He carried His cross up a hill, willing laid down upon it, felt the excruciating pain as nails were driving into his hands and feet, asked God to forgive those who brought this pain upon Him, died, rose again, and calls us to receive His free gift of salvation asking nothing more than faith and following.

Could it be that writer’s block is simply God’s way of forcing me to depend less upon my (hopefully) eloquent speech and cunning ability to captivate an audience and instead depend upon the foolish simplicity of the Gospel message?

Maybe, when it comes to proclaiming the Good News, my motto should be, “If you don’t have anything good say, say something!” because even a rehashed, slightly uninspired, retelling of the greatest story ever told is going to bring beauty into the lives of the hurting!

Well, would you look at that, it is now 9:23 pm so…

Peace, Love, and Awakening!

The Saint, The Sinner, and the Sanctimonious

Luke 7:38  “…and she began to wash His feet with her tears, and wiped them with the hair of her head…”
She was in town that day and expected it to be just another normal day filled with looks of disdain and judgmental whispers.  “There’s she is!” They would sneer. “She’s so immoral. I don’t believe she has the audacity to even show her face? She’s such an embarrassment to our town”.  She expected this because that was her day to day experience. She was used to being avoided and honestly was glad she was because her guilt kept her so wrapped up that she truly believed she didn’t deserve to be “accepted”.  She thought “after all I’ve done why anyone want to be around me”. 
Woman-Washed-Jesus-Feet-With-Her-Tears1
As she walked around town she noticed something was different this day.  The usual looks she was accustomed to receiving were not being cast in her direction.  She overheard whispers but this time they weren’t about her.  “Jesus is at Simon’s house” they said,  “I heard he healed the lame and raised the dead”.  She stood at a distance, scared to draw attention to herself but she was close enough to hear things like, “He’s a prophet…a teacher…messiah”. 
She had heard about Jesus before and was surprised that he taught his followers not to judge others for their sins but to love them and even to forgive them.  There was something different about this man and she felt something inside her crying out to know more.  She had to meet him but how?  Simon was a Pharisee and she a sinner.  Jesus was having dinner with the people who had spoken so harshly about her for so long.  She knew she wouldn’t be welcome there.  She knew she was “good enough” but something told her that HE was.  She felt in her heart that if she could just get in the door he could offer her some hope. 
She thought to herself “Maybe if I gave him something He would speak to me.  I don’t know why but I just feel like His word’s will bring peace to my heart.  I’ve got to meet this man”  She ran home and grabbed the alabaster box filled with precious ointment she keeps under her bed.  This was the only thing of value she had.  As she ran back into town she remembered the day she was given this precious box.
 
Her father made the box for her when she was a child and spent a years salary to purchase the ointment locked inside.  She remembers smelling the sweet fragrance when he and her mother gave it to her on that special day.  Her father told her that one day she would meet a man who would love her and he would marry her and she would wear this fragrance for him. The joy of that memory didn’t last long before the guilt set in again and she remember all the times she secretly opened the box to use just a tiny amount for men she thought were “the one” only to find out they weren’t.  She hoped that this man would be different.  She prayed “God if you’re listening to me please let this man be what I believe him to be”.  “Don’t let me be wrong again”
As she drew closer to Simon’s house her heart began to race wildly.  She began to become painfully aware of every heartbeat and breathing became labored.  She felt like something was going to happen but she didn’t know what.  Would this be the best day of her life or the worst? 
It’s then that feelings of fear and dread began to overcome her.  “What will they do when they see me?  Will Simon kick me out?  Will Jesus refuse to let me near Him?  Maybe He’s like all the rest. Maybe He will stone me!” she thought.  This horror caused her to slow her pace for a minute thinking about turning back but something inside said “keep going!”  so she continued on running as fast as she could. 
When she reached the door to Simon’s house she saw Jesus sitting at the table eating.  She ran to him and fell at His feet crying.  She couldn’t speak for the tears that were falling.  Suddenly she realized her tears were falling on His feet and then a feeling of dread came over her.  She thought, “I’m a sinner and this man is a prophet from God.  My tears have touched him and made him unclean.  What if he gets angry with me.  I can’t handle another rejection.  Oh God, what have I done?”.  She quickly looked around for a towel to wipe His feet with but there wasn’t one.  She had to remove her tears from him but how?  She couldn’t use her hands they were dirty too. 
She finally decided to let her hair down.  She leaned over and wiped His feet with her hair to dry them off.  Something about doing that made her feel better.  It was as if she felt connected to Him.  Her heart began to feel a little less empty.
It was at that moment that something came over her, a feeling she had not felt since she sat on her dad’s lap and fell asleep as a little girl before bed time.  She felt safe.  She felt loved.  She felt…accepted.  She couldn’t explain it but it was there and she was grateful. 
In an act of unashamed worship she broke open the alabastar box and poured it on Jesus and continued wiping His feet with her hair.
You could hear a gasp as the people in the room saw what she had done. They began to whisper “Why is this sinner touching Jesus?” “Why is she waisting such expensive ointment that could be used to feed the poor?” but this time she didn’t let the whispers cause her to be ashamed.  She had found a man God sent to her, a man who made her feel loved and adored and she didn’t care what anyone else thought.  She was going to lay it all out for him.  All that mattered in this moment was letting Jesus know that she was grateful for His love!
What an amazing story.  The sinner and the Savior.  The humbled and the exalted.  The problem child and the one who holds the answers to the problem!
Mary’s act of worship was hated in the world’s eyes but adored by the eyes that saw past her faults to the potential in her heart.  Simon was disgusted by this woman.  She was a sinner, an immoral woman who was the opposite of everything he “professed” to be and Jesus was allowing her to touch Him.  I’m sure in Simon’s pharisee mindset holiness was not supposed to be touched by sinful people.  God is supposed to hide behind the veil and sin could not stand in it’s presence.  At that time Simon probably made up his mind about Jesus and couldn’t wait to go back to the temple and tell them all about this.  You see even though Simon and his Pharisee friends proclaimed to be clean in reality they were just as dirty as this immoral woman.  Only their dirt came from a different plot of land.  The land called hypocrisy.
Simon didn’t realize that Jesus was there to take our sins on himself.  The veil that separated us from God was about to be ripped by the power of the Spirit that would free us from our sins!
Simon had the opportunity to honor Jesus but he chose not to.  It was customary in that time for owner of the house to have a servant wash guest’s feet before they entered the house.  Simon didn’t do this, according to Jesus, which would have been considered an insult in that time.  Mary did with her tears.
Now it would be easy to look at Simon and judge him.  After all, he’s a Pharisee but what about the others at the feast?  The disciples were there as well.  None of them offered to get water to wash their Lord’s feet either.  They were too busy enjoying the meal set before them, the blessings of the ministry, to be concerned with something that is reserved for the lowest of servants.  It’s possible to spend our time focusing so much on the “important” things that we forget to worship which ultimately is the important thing.  The disciples were focused on what was being done for them and not on what they could do for God.  I wonder if the disciples remembered this night at the last supper during the Passover feast when Jesus got on his knees and washed their feet.
God desires us to worship him.  He loves nothing more than when a child forgets about the world around them and risks making a fool out of themselves in order to show their love for Him.  Mary did just that.
What do you have in your life that you cherish?  Your reputation? Your career? Your talents?  Do you hide them under your bed to keep them safe pulling them out periodically to stare at them with pride and clean them up.
Is touching Jesus’ heart so important to you that you would be willing to break open the box that you’ve cherished so long and “waste” it by pouring it on Jesus and saying “Here you go Lord, this is all I have to give”.
Peace, Love, and Awakening!
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And God Waits…

I am exhausted. I was awake for twenty-two hours yesterday. Twenty of those hours were spent either working or driving to and from job sites. I left my house yesterday at 6:45 am and got home this morning at 4:00 am. It is currently 9:46 am and I have been up since 7:00 so I am operating off of three hours sleep. Never mind the fact that I only got four hours sleep the night before. I will say it again, I am exhausted! I’m also frustrated, a little moody…eh, angry might be a better word, and confused out of my mind. I mean, I seriously can’t think straight.

It began early this morning as we were making the three hour drive home. The route we took went straight through the town I lived in for six years and much of it was the exact route I drove for two years to and from work every day as we were working right next door to one of my former stores. Yet, I could not keep my bearings straight. This was not good considering I was the ship’s navigator so to speak. A couple of times we had to stop, turn around, and get back on course. GPS might would have been a better navigator but, “don’t worry I know this town like the back of my hand!”. Lol!

We stopped at one point to buy some coffee. I am certain the cashier probably thought I was smashed of my gourd from alcohol. I was swaying to and fro as I walked, my speech was slow and a bit slurred, and when he handed me my bag, I dropped it on the floor. It was not a good night for me…though my coworkers had quite a laugh, I’m sure.

What to do? What to do? Continue reading

Drowning Is Not The End

drowning

Photo courtesy: Patheos.com

So if you’ve read my first entry on this blog, The Most Narcissistic Blog Ever, then you know that my heart desires to be one of the sparks that ignites the next great awakening in this country. I long for that like my body longs for water on mid July summer day in the Georgia humidity. I cannot successfully put together the sufficient words to explain how desperate my heart is to see this happen. God forbid it be to make my name famous, I assure you, that is not the case, but I have such a desire to be more than I am presently able to be, to be such a force for the kingdom of God that my legacy will not be a string of accomplishments, save the singular accomplishment of making Jesus famous!

The question is, do I have the faith it takes to be that kind of force in the Kingdom of God? Continue reading

I want to be That Man, but…

 

 

Super Man Boy

I was writing an article tonight and remember this post I did on another blog a little over two years ago which fits in with the theme of Wannabe Hero. I thought I would repost it on here. By way of explanation, I was in the middle of about a year and a half long depression and this was my first post of 2014.

Since this is my first post of 2014, I thought that I would go with the expected and talk about my new year’s resolution. I know, very original huh? Anyway, there is something about beginning a new year that makes us evaluate ourselves. We tend to take a look at where we are at and make decisions on where we want to be this time next year. My new years resolution, however, isn’t your typical goal. I don’t care about losing weight. I’m not resolving to make more money this year, although I pray I do because this has been the worst year for me economically since I first began working 22 years ago. My goal is not even something that will be able to be quantified in the next 365 days but it is a burning passion in my heart that I have to work toward.
I don’t think I have ever consciously made a new years resolution. At least, if I did, I must not have been too serious about it because I don’t even remember failing to achieve it. Since I am a person who constantly beats himself up over failure I believe it’s safe to assume my inability to remember a failed resolution means that I never made one. However, I have been reading Craig Groeschel’s book Fight and a few nights ago I read something that slapped me upside the head and screamed, “That’s it! That’s your new years resolution!” I actually cried when I read it because it mirrored the cry of my heart for the last two years.

In the book Craig tells a story of the young D.L. Moody having lunch with Henry Varley. At some point during the meet, Varley looked at Moody and said, “Moody, the world has yet to see what God will do with a man who is totally consecrated to Him”. It is said that these words pierced Moody’s soul and he could not get them out of his mind. He thought about them for weeks and then finally proclaimed, “I will be that man! If God is looking for a man of integrity, a man of honor and courage and faithfulness, with God’s help, I will be such a man!” Groeschel went on to say, “You can do this. Our twenty-first-century has yet to see what God will do through a man whose heart is surrendered to him. You could be that man.”
As I read this account, tears came to my eyes because that has been my prayer for two years. I have petitioned God to let me be the spark that starts the last great awakening before He returns. I have asked God to turn me into such a man of God that the world is different when I’m gone. I want to be my generation’s D.L. Moody, A.W. Tozer, Charles Spurgeon, Charles Wesley, John Wesley, Billy Graham or the many other men who made a positive mark on this world for the Kingdom of God.
I want to be that man, but…

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