He had served his country well during a period when evil threatened to take over all corners of the world. Serving in Guam, the Philippines, and in post-war Japan, John had come home from World War II with honor. Standing a gangly six feet, two inches tall, the home folk had even more reason to look up to him than his height. He returned to driving a cab as he’d done before the war and began to date a dark haired girl some five years his junior by the name of Juanita. They were quickly becoming an item and, one thing leading to another, John got up his nerve to ask a question one night while driving Juanita around town in the taxi.
"I don’t supposed you’d consider marrying me, would you?" He often spoke in a quizzical tone, making those around him chuckle.
"I suppose I would," Juanita replied, mocking her husband-to-be’s tone..and that was that. Juanita was thrilled inside, but trying her best to match John’s nonchalance. Her mother, on the other hand, was not thrilled in the least bit at the aspect of John becoming her son-in-law. She had a dim view of men in general, having been abandoned by Juanita’s father during the depression to raise the infant Juanita and her five older brothers on her own.
John quickly knew that his job driving the taxi would not support himself and new wife, despite her extra income working part time at the local five-and-dime. He sought gainful employment here and there, but with an influx of men coming home from the war, jobs were scarce. The newleyweds struggled to make ends meet. Meanwhile the mother-in-law’s opinion of John wasn’t improving.
Then, a friend of a friend mentioned the railroad was taking on trainees and war veterans were being given special consideration. John quickly went down to the local depot and was granted an interview on the spot. He made the most of the situation. By the end of the meeting, he was selected for one of the new positions. After he’d completed a three week period of trainee trips, he would be hired full-time as a brakeman. His elation quickly faded when the railroad official told him, "You do realize that there is no pay for the trainee period..." No pay, for three weeks.
John went home, somewhat perplexed by his situation. He knew the railroad position was too good to pass up, but three weeks seemed like an eternity to a couple that were living virtually day to day. He and his new bride calculated how much money they needed to survive the three weeks. Fifty dollars would get them through, fifty dollars. He went to the bank, where he was met by a man that had known him since he was a young boy.
"There’s the war hero," the banker said, thrusting out his hand to shake John’s. "What can I do for you?"
John explained his situation. The banker listened carefully, nodding his head understandingly.
"Sure, John, we can help you out. All we need is two co-signers, and the money’s yours."
Two co-signers?? For fifty dollars? John felt a prideful indignation beginning to tighten his jaw. "You mean I can risk my life for this country for the past four years and I’m not worth fifty dollars?" He got up and left the bank.
Job 40:12 tells us "Look at every proud man and humble him..." Yet pride can be the toughest, most bitter pill to swallow. But John knew what he had to do. There was only one other source where he might be able to obtain the money. He drove himself out to a farm a few miles from town. Reluctantly knocking on the front door, he was met by a woman with a suspicious scowl creasing her weather-worn face.
He looked her in the eye and said, "Ma’am, I need to borrow fifty dollars so I can get a job on the railroad and provide your daughter with a better life." He felt his jaw muscles tighten as his clenched his teeth after the last word had left his mouth.
My grandmother looked at my father with a little more respect that day, nodded, and went to get the money. His career on the railroad lasted the next 37 years, and his family wanted for nothing.
Thursday, February 9, 2012
Monday, February 6, 2012
A Cheeky Moment
We had face painted at the county fair for the past several years, supporting one of the other couples in our church whose ministry was working with children. My wife and I admired their work and manning the face painting booth for a few hours each year was our way of showing appreciation and support for the fine service they performed.
While my wife possesses some artistic gifts, I can’t really say I have any. We were taught to paint simple figures like a flower or a grassy hillside with the sun shining down upon it. After all, it wasn’t the painting itself, but rather, the story you told as you painted on the child’s cheek. Even with my lack of talent, the drawings eventually became easier. Child after child stepped up, plopped down in the chair in front of us, picked out the figure they wanted painted on their little cheek and sat in silence while we painted.
We used four or five different colors in our face painting ministry. Black represented the sin in our life. Red-the blood of Jesus, shed for the payment of that sin. White-the complete washing of our sins, and so forth. As we used each color, we explained in the simplest of terms the Gospel of Christ. Most sat staring forward, just waiting for the moment we held up a mirror for them to see their masterpieces. But not every job went that way.
Angie was a pretty, blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl of about eleven years. By the time Angie got to my chair, my back was aching a bit from the constant bending position I’d been in for a hour or so. My enthusiasm for the work was really waning.
She sat down and said she wanted flowers, "Three of them, please." I sort of sighed and started yet another drawing. Like the rest of the kids, Angie just sat staring forward while I painted and talked. Truthfully, I was looking forward to taking a much needed break with a cold drink as soon as I finished with her flowers.
Finishing up the drawing and story, I asked Angie the same question I’d asked dozens before her, expecting the same non-response that I’d always received. As I finished her face painting, I asked, "Now, Angie, have you ever given your heart to Jesus and made Him the Lord of your life?" I began dunking my paint brush down into a cup of water and looked to see if there was any other child waiting in line.
Angie’s face whirled around quickly, her bright blue eyes lighting up as she blurted out, "No, but I’ve wanted to for a long time!" I nearly knocked the water cup off the table.
"You have?"
"Yes! I keep trying to get my mom to take me to church so I can tell someone, but she hasn’t taken me yet."
"Where’s your mom, now?"
"Over there."
"Can you go get her for me?"
My mind raced as Angie ran over, got her mother, and returned to my booth. I told her of my conversation with Angie. The woman’s chin quivered as I relayed to her Angie’s desire to turn her life over to Christ. She sat down in stunned silence, tears running down her cheeks.
"I feel awful"...she looked at Angie and promised that tomorrow, being Sunday, they would go to church.
"We’ve just been so busy..." Her voice trailed off. I had gathered my wits somewhat from what had occurred and asked if I could pray with her and her daughter. She nodded and we bowed in prayer...
In Matthew 19:14, Jesus tells his disciples, "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these." His disciples had perhaps seen the children trying to get to Jesus as nuisances to Him, not worthy of His time. Unfortunately, Angie’s mom had regarded going to church in a similar fashion, when in reality, the most important moment in her daughter’s life was being repressed. So often as parents, we allow the world around us to blur our focus.
...Angie changed my life that afternoon in the face painting booth. And, as she prayed to receive Christ as her Savior with me that day, He changed her life...forever.
While my wife possesses some artistic gifts, I can’t really say I have any. We were taught to paint simple figures like a flower or a grassy hillside with the sun shining down upon it. After all, it wasn’t the painting itself, but rather, the story you told as you painted on the child’s cheek. Even with my lack of talent, the drawings eventually became easier. Child after child stepped up, plopped down in the chair in front of us, picked out the figure they wanted painted on their little cheek and sat in silence while we painted.
We used four or five different colors in our face painting ministry. Black represented the sin in our life. Red-the blood of Jesus, shed for the payment of that sin. White-the complete washing of our sins, and so forth. As we used each color, we explained in the simplest of terms the Gospel of Christ. Most sat staring forward, just waiting for the moment we held up a mirror for them to see their masterpieces. But not every job went that way.
Angie was a pretty, blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl of about eleven years. By the time Angie got to my chair, my back was aching a bit from the constant bending position I’d been in for a hour or so. My enthusiasm for the work was really waning.
She sat down and said she wanted flowers, "Three of them, please." I sort of sighed and started yet another drawing. Like the rest of the kids, Angie just sat staring forward while I painted and talked. Truthfully, I was looking forward to taking a much needed break with a cold drink as soon as I finished with her flowers.
Finishing up the drawing and story, I asked Angie the same question I’d asked dozens before her, expecting the same non-response that I’d always received. As I finished her face painting, I asked, "Now, Angie, have you ever given your heart to Jesus and made Him the Lord of your life?" I began dunking my paint brush down into a cup of water and looked to see if there was any other child waiting in line.
Angie’s face whirled around quickly, her bright blue eyes lighting up as she blurted out, "No, but I’ve wanted to for a long time!" I nearly knocked the water cup off the table.
"You have?"
"Yes! I keep trying to get my mom to take me to church so I can tell someone, but she hasn’t taken me yet."
"Where’s your mom, now?"
"Over there."
"Can you go get her for me?"
My mind raced as Angie ran over, got her mother, and returned to my booth. I told her of my conversation with Angie. The woman’s chin quivered as I relayed to her Angie’s desire to turn her life over to Christ. She sat down in stunned silence, tears running down her cheeks.
"I feel awful"...she looked at Angie and promised that tomorrow, being Sunday, they would go to church.
"We’ve just been so busy..." Her voice trailed off. I had gathered my wits somewhat from what had occurred and asked if I could pray with her and her daughter. She nodded and we bowed in prayer...
In Matthew 19:14, Jesus tells his disciples, "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these." His disciples had perhaps seen the children trying to get to Jesus as nuisances to Him, not worthy of His time. Unfortunately, Angie’s mom had regarded going to church in a similar fashion, when in reality, the most important moment in her daughter’s life was being repressed. So often as parents, we allow the world around us to blur our focus.
...Angie changed my life that afternoon in the face painting booth. And, as she prayed to receive Christ as her Savior with me that day, He changed her life...forever.
Thursday, February 2, 2012
Scouting out a Real Lesson
I was a boy of about nine years old and there was a Saturday afternoon Cub Scout activity at the large Presbyterian church my family attended. There were about 20 of us boys busy with our scouting activities, all under the watchful eyes of several volunteer parents. I don’t recall what the activities were, but I do remember seeing another activity that left a lasting impression. As I took a break and went into one of the restrooms off the fellowship hall of the church, I found another young boy, about a year or two older than me, cleaning the sinks. He looked up at me as I entered the restroom and quickly looked back down, as if he were a little embarrassed I’d found him cleaning the restroom. I’d seen the boy at school before, but I didn’t really know him. I wondered if he had gotten into some sort of trouble, or something.
As I left the restroom, I went out into the hallway to get a drink and found the boy’s parents mopping the floor and dusting some bookshelves. I had to wait to get a drink because the boy’s little sister was wiping off the stainless steel of the water fountain. The whole family was cleaning the church building on a Saturday afternoon. I wondered what on earth was going on.
I went back into the fellowship hall, puzzled by what I’d witnessed. My nine year old curiosity got the best of me and I went up to one of the fathers helping supervise our activity. He was also one of the lay leaders of the church.
"Why are the Smiths cleaning up the church building? Are they our janitors?" I asked the man. He just smiled and shook his head...
Sometimes when Christians bring up the subject of giving, people get a little uncomfortable. There’s a reason that roughly 25% of all Jesus’s teachings regard money. That reason wasn’t that He was after our money. No, Jesus was, is, and always will be after our hearts. He knew that our relationship with money and material things would be a major hurdle for many to have a true spiritual relationship. In one instance, Jesus tells a rich young ruler to sell all his possessions, give the money to the poor, and THEN he could follow Him. He encountered many other wealthy individuals, but there’s never another instance of Jesus telling someone to do this. He saw into the man’s heart. Matthew 6:21 says "For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also." Each one of us has to ask, where is my heart, what do I treasure more than the relationship I have with the Father?
...In a compassionate voice, the man explained to me that the family didn’t feel like they had enough money to give to the church like they’d like to give, so once a month they worked in the church building to make up for it. Normally, no one would be here on Saturday, so they do it then...That idea was intriguing to my young mind. Here was someone who thought they didn’t give enough, in terms of money, so they were willing to give their own time in order to be able to give more. In that short, but powerful lesson I learned a lot about true giving.
As I left the restroom, I went out into the hallway to get a drink and found the boy’s parents mopping the floor and dusting some bookshelves. I had to wait to get a drink because the boy’s little sister was wiping off the stainless steel of the water fountain. The whole family was cleaning the church building on a Saturday afternoon. I wondered what on earth was going on.
I went back into the fellowship hall, puzzled by what I’d witnessed. My nine year old curiosity got the best of me and I went up to one of the fathers helping supervise our activity. He was also one of the lay leaders of the church.
"Why are the Smiths cleaning up the church building? Are they our janitors?" I asked the man. He just smiled and shook his head...
Sometimes when Christians bring up the subject of giving, people get a little uncomfortable. There’s a reason that roughly 25% of all Jesus’s teachings regard money. That reason wasn’t that He was after our money. No, Jesus was, is, and always will be after our hearts. He knew that our relationship with money and material things would be a major hurdle for many to have a true spiritual relationship. In one instance, Jesus tells a rich young ruler to sell all his possessions, give the money to the poor, and THEN he could follow Him. He encountered many other wealthy individuals, but there’s never another instance of Jesus telling someone to do this. He saw into the man’s heart. Matthew 6:21 says "For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also." Each one of us has to ask, where is my heart, what do I treasure more than the relationship I have with the Father?
...In a compassionate voice, the man explained to me that the family didn’t feel like they had enough money to give to the church like they’d like to give, so once a month they worked in the church building to make up for it. Normally, no one would be here on Saturday, so they do it then...That idea was intriguing to my young mind. Here was someone who thought they didn’t give enough, in terms of money, so they were willing to give their own time in order to be able to give more. In that short, but powerful lesson I learned a lot about true giving.
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
The Key Point
I had bought my first brand new vehicle, a shiny black pickup truck. It had been washed umpteen times since I drove it off the dealer’s lot, but now that the odometer had surpassed the 3000 mile mark, and it was time for my baby’s first oil change. Loading up the family, we took off for a nearby shopping center. After I dropped the wife and kids off to shop, I headed for the center’s tire and lube garage and drove into the bay where the technicians started immediately going to work on my pride and joy.
Watching from the customer waiting area as my truck was hoisted into the air, I saw the old oil draining from the crankcase. Although it didn’t have the blackness of used oil I was accustomed to seeing from the old heaps I was used to driving, I was glad to be following the manufacturers’ recommendation and having the job done as prescribed. I anxiously observed every movement the workers made until the job was finished, much like a new father taking his son to the barber for his first real haircut.
I went to pay for the work as one of the technicians drove my truck out of the garage area and parked it in the lot beside the garage. Settling the bill and having an extra set of keys made for the truck, I went out, got in the truck, and...it wouldn’t start. The engine cranked and cranked and cranked, but as if it was out of gas, it would not fire. Completely baffled, I went back inside and spoke to the manager, who promptly went out to start my truck himself and got the same results.
The service manager and I then began to exchange viewpoints on the responsibility of the non-starting condition of my practically brand new truck. My thinking was the truck was perfectly fine before his mechanics’ hands laid their hands on it. He made the point that his mechanic drove it out of the bay area and the trouble seemed to occur after I got behind the wheel to go home. We became mutually infuriated, standing nose to nose, eyeball to eyeball, lashing out at one another. I finally said something like, "Look bub, all I did was pay for the job, have an extra key made for the truck, and get in it, and now it won’t start." "You had a new key made inside?" "Yeah!" The manager looked suddenly like he’d been revealed the hidden secrets of the universe...
Several Bible passages comment on the situation I found myself in with the service manager that day. James 1:19 tells us clearly we "should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry" (NIV), which neither one of us followed on any count. Both of us could have benefitted from the advice given in Proverbs 15:1, which says, "A gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger" (NIV). There was plenty of wrath and harsh words being spewed that afternoon, let me tell you. And of course, I must confess, both parties violated "In your anger, do not sin" (Ephesians 4:26, NIV). The worst part for me was my children witnessing the entire fiasco.
...The manager asked me for my old set of keys, which I dug out of my pocket and handed him. He climbed back into my truck and proceeded start the engine, using my old keys. He shut the engine off and got out. "These new trucks have a special micro-chip in the key. The keys we make here will turn the ignition, but without that micro-chip, the engine won’t turn over. Only the dealership can make you those kind of keys" We both looked at each other foolishly, our faces still red from the anger in which we’d been entangled. He turned to leave. I started to get in the truck, but turned back toward him, shouting, "HEY!" "Now what?" he replied, the blood starting to reenter his face..."Do I get my money back for the key?" Neither of us could contain our sheepish grins.
Watching from the customer waiting area as my truck was hoisted into the air, I saw the old oil draining from the crankcase. Although it didn’t have the blackness of used oil I was accustomed to seeing from the old heaps I was used to driving, I was glad to be following the manufacturers’ recommendation and having the job done as prescribed. I anxiously observed every movement the workers made until the job was finished, much like a new father taking his son to the barber for his first real haircut.
I went to pay for the work as one of the technicians drove my truck out of the garage area and parked it in the lot beside the garage. Settling the bill and having an extra set of keys made for the truck, I went out, got in the truck, and...it wouldn’t start. The engine cranked and cranked and cranked, but as if it was out of gas, it would not fire. Completely baffled, I went back inside and spoke to the manager, who promptly went out to start my truck himself and got the same results.
The service manager and I then began to exchange viewpoints on the responsibility of the non-starting condition of my practically brand new truck. My thinking was the truck was perfectly fine before his mechanics’ hands laid their hands on it. He made the point that his mechanic drove it out of the bay area and the trouble seemed to occur after I got behind the wheel to go home. We became mutually infuriated, standing nose to nose, eyeball to eyeball, lashing out at one another. I finally said something like, "Look bub, all I did was pay for the job, have an extra key made for the truck, and get in it, and now it won’t start." "You had a new key made inside?" "Yeah!" The manager looked suddenly like he’d been revealed the hidden secrets of the universe...
Several Bible passages comment on the situation I found myself in with the service manager that day. James 1:19 tells us clearly we "should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry" (NIV), which neither one of us followed on any count. Both of us could have benefitted from the advice given in Proverbs 15:1, which says, "A gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger" (NIV). There was plenty of wrath and harsh words being spewed that afternoon, let me tell you. And of course, I must confess, both parties violated "In your anger, do not sin" (Ephesians 4:26, NIV). The worst part for me was my children witnessing the entire fiasco.
...The manager asked me for my old set of keys, which I dug out of my pocket and handed him. He climbed back into my truck and proceeded start the engine, using my old keys. He shut the engine off and got out. "These new trucks have a special micro-chip in the key. The keys we make here will turn the ignition, but without that micro-chip, the engine won’t turn over. Only the dealership can make you those kind of keys" We both looked at each other foolishly, our faces still red from the anger in which we’d been entangled. He turned to leave. I started to get in the truck, but turned back toward him, shouting, "HEY!" "Now what?" he replied, the blood starting to reenter his face..."Do I get my money back for the key?" Neither of us could contain our sheepish grins.
Friday, January 13, 2012
You Gotta Have Friends...
The other night, Teri asked me, "How many Facebook friends do you have?" I really didn’t know, exactly, so I looked and found I had 364 friends. I lack one friend of having a friend for every day of the year! I started looking down my list of friends, and I realized that practically every aspect of my life is represented on Facebook through these 364 individuals. Not counting immediate family, I have FB friends that I’ve known since I was seven years old to the present, covering the last 45 years of my life.
Those few I knew way back when, I’m still very close to (funny how that works, huh). I started categorizing the list and found that my hometown is responsible for a great many of my friends, having more than a few that grew up or still live in Fort Scott, Kansas. Several were people that I’d worked with over my career with the Bureau of Prisons. I have many FB friends that are or were named Povenmire whom I’ve never met. The name is unusual and I try to keep a family tree. Thus, I’ve reached out and made contact with these distant relatives. There are, of course, immediate family and their spouses and extended families on the list, as well as relatives of friends. I’ve met some friends through other friends on Facebook. I have friends from Ecuador and Peru that I met last summer on a mission trip. All in all, Facebook has assembled quite a diverse cross section of my life.
I’m a big fan of the movie we watch every year at Christmas time, "It’s a Wonderful Life." My favorite line from the movie is when George Bailey’s guardian angel Clarence tells him "Strange, isn’t it. Each man's life touches so many other lives...In this instance, looking at my list of friends, I got to reflecting how each one of their lives had touched my own.
The Book of Proverbs has a lot of useful thoughts on the relationships we should maintain, and a few about the ones we should avoid. Proverbs 12:26 says "One who is righteous is a guide to his neighbor, but the way of the wicked leads them astray." I hope I have been as good a guide to others as many have been to me. I’ve also had those in my life lead me astray, but I’ve probably been guilty of that with others, too.
Proverbs 13:20 says, "Whoever walks with the wise becomes wise, but the companion of fools will suffer harm." I’m afraid I’ve been on both sides of this passage, as well.
One area that we could all improve on, to some degree, is found in Proverbs 19:20: "Listen to advice and accept instruction, that you may gain wisdom in the future."
I’m thankful for those who’ve given me wise counsel over the years. I’ve felt the benefits of Proverbs 27:17, which tells us, "Iron sharpens iron, and one man sharpens another."
Looking over my list of Facebook friends brought a lot of smiles with the warm memories that existed. God blesses our lives with the people that He puts in our pathways of life. Some walk with us for a short while and others are there for the duration. But, believing God can use all things, all people in any situation, suddenly those that walk alongside us at any given time increase in significance. God is at work in our lives through the people around us and using us in their lives as well. I don’t know about you, but I don’t appreciate that fact nearly enough.
Those few I knew way back when, I’m still very close to (funny how that works, huh). I started categorizing the list and found that my hometown is responsible for a great many of my friends, having more than a few that grew up or still live in Fort Scott, Kansas. Several were people that I’d worked with over my career with the Bureau of Prisons. I have many FB friends that are or were named Povenmire whom I’ve never met. The name is unusual and I try to keep a family tree. Thus, I’ve reached out and made contact with these distant relatives. There are, of course, immediate family and their spouses and extended families on the list, as well as relatives of friends. I’ve met some friends through other friends on Facebook. I have friends from Ecuador and Peru that I met last summer on a mission trip. All in all, Facebook has assembled quite a diverse cross section of my life.
I’m a big fan of the movie we watch every year at Christmas time, "It’s a Wonderful Life." My favorite line from the movie is when George Bailey’s guardian angel Clarence tells him "Strange, isn’t it. Each man's life touches so many other lives...In this instance, looking at my list of friends, I got to reflecting how each one of their lives had touched my own.The Book of Proverbs has a lot of useful thoughts on the relationships we should maintain, and a few about the ones we should avoid. Proverbs 12:26 says "One who is righteous is a guide to his neighbor, but the way of the wicked leads them astray." I hope I have been as good a guide to others as many have been to me. I’ve also had those in my life lead me astray, but I’ve probably been guilty of that with others, too.
Proverbs 13:20 says, "Whoever walks with the wise becomes wise, but the companion of fools will suffer harm." I’m afraid I’ve been on both sides of this passage, as well.
One area that we could all improve on, to some degree, is found in Proverbs 19:20: "Listen to advice and accept instruction, that you may gain wisdom in the future."
I’m thankful for those who’ve given me wise counsel over the years. I’ve felt the benefits of Proverbs 27:17, which tells us, "Iron sharpens iron, and one man sharpens another."
Looking over my list of Facebook friends brought a lot of smiles with the warm memories that existed. God blesses our lives with the people that He puts in our pathways of life. Some walk with us for a short while and others are there for the duration. But, believing God can use all things, all people in any situation, suddenly those that walk alongside us at any given time increase in significance. God is at work in our lives through the people around us and using us in their lives as well. I don’t know about you, but I don’t appreciate that fact nearly enough.
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
Tim Tebow...
By now, Denver Bronco quarterback Tim Tebow is probably a pretty familiar name to you. If not, Tebow is not only the starting quarterback for the Broncos, but also a highly publicized, and often scrutinized player. Tebow is sized up not only for his football skills, but probably more so for his spiritual life. He’s a devout Christian and lets the world know it. He gives glory to God for all his successes in life and there have been many. In college, Tebow’s Florida Gators won two national championships and he was awarded the Heisman Trophy as the sport’s outstanding player.
This year for the Broncos, he’s taken a woefully bad team and turned them around, winning their conference championship and last week defeating the heavily favored Pittsburgh Steelers in the first round of the NFL playoffs.
The television cameras are seemingly transfixed on the man, especially when he drops to a knee and prays as is often does before, during, and after games. The posture of him praying has become such a common sight that it has a name of its own: tebowing. There is a website, tebowing.com, where you can submit a picture of yourself tebowing. Kids have been cited for tebowing in the middle of their hallways at school, causing undue bottlenecks.
It all looks like a lot of harmless fun, I suppose. But I can’t help but see another side of the tebowing craze. The other night on the local newscast, there was a story on Tim Tebow, the phenomenal success he’s had this year in football, and the whole fad of tebowing. Okay... But at the end of the report, both of the local anchorwomen and the weather man were shown in posed pictures of themselves tebowing. They were all laughing hilariously at themselves in the pictures. I found it bothersome and, at the risk of using a heavily overused term these days, offensive.
Making mockery of Christian prayer is something that I had a hard time getting past. I couldn’t imagine mocking a Muslim on his prayer rug being acceptable behavior, nor should it be. But no one seems to think a thing of an imitative derision of a Christian in prayer.
I began to wonder how we’d gotten to this stage, where prayer was taken so lightly. I thought of times when people suffer difficulties, people often say they’ll keep that person in their "thoughts and prayers." It’s a comfortable expression, almost like it’s okay to mention prayer, as long as it’s coupled with thoughts. It’s not a bad saying, per se, but I find more comfort in "I’ll be praying for you about that," when I’m that person in need. I used to have a pastor who would look me in the eye and say, "I’m praying for you as we speak," in those situations. Anyone who knew the man at all, knew he meant exactly what he said.
Oftentimes, we hear someone say something like, "Well, the least we can do is pray," when just the opposite is the truth. Prayer is the most you can do, bringing our needs to the highest possible Power. James 5:16 says, "…The prayer of a righteous man is powerful and effective." In 1Thessalonians 5:16-17, we’re told to "Be joyful always; pray continually..." I’m thankful for someone like Tim Tebow, who despite the ridicule the world tosses his way, practices these verses far better than I do.
This year for the Broncos, he’s taken a woefully bad team and turned them around, winning their conference championship and last week defeating the heavily favored Pittsburgh Steelers in the first round of the NFL playoffs.
The television cameras are seemingly transfixed on the man, especially when he drops to a knee and prays as is often does before, during, and after games. The posture of him praying has become such a common sight that it has a name of its own: tebowing. There is a website, tebowing.com, where you can submit a picture of yourself tebowing. Kids have been cited for tebowing in the middle of their hallways at school, causing undue bottlenecks. It all looks like a lot of harmless fun, I suppose. But I can’t help but see another side of the tebowing craze. The other night on the local newscast, there was a story on Tim Tebow, the phenomenal success he’s had this year in football, and the whole fad of tebowing. Okay... But at the end of the report, both of the local anchorwomen and the weather man were shown in posed pictures of themselves tebowing. They were all laughing hilariously at themselves in the pictures. I found it bothersome and, at the risk of using a heavily overused term these days, offensive.
Making mockery of Christian prayer is something that I had a hard time getting past. I couldn’t imagine mocking a Muslim on his prayer rug being acceptable behavior, nor should it be. But no one seems to think a thing of an imitative derision of a Christian in prayer.
I began to wonder how we’d gotten to this stage, where prayer was taken so lightly. I thought of times when people suffer difficulties, people often say they’ll keep that person in their "thoughts and prayers." It’s a comfortable expression, almost like it’s okay to mention prayer, as long as it’s coupled with thoughts. It’s not a bad saying, per se, but I find more comfort in "I’ll be praying for you about that," when I’m that person in need. I used to have a pastor who would look me in the eye and say, "I’m praying for you as we speak," in those situations. Anyone who knew the man at all, knew he meant exactly what he said.
Oftentimes, we hear someone say something like, "Well, the least we can do is pray," when just the opposite is the truth. Prayer is the most you can do, bringing our needs to the highest possible Power. James 5:16 says, "…The prayer of a righteous man is powerful and effective." In 1Thessalonians 5:16-17, we’re told to "Be joyful always; pray continually..." I’m thankful for someone like Tim Tebow, who despite the ridicule the world tosses his way, practices these verses far better than I do.
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
Guilty as Sin
So mom would just wait, and wait, and sometimes wait some more until one of us would step forward and say "I did it." It generally took an hour or so, but usually someone took the blame...usually. There was a time or two, as I recall, that no one came forward. Whether it was because the crime was too great or the anticipated punishment too sizable, none of us three brothers wanted to own up to being guilty. Those times, mom carried fairness and equality to the next level...everyone would receive discipline for the crime. In her eyes, I guess, we were all guilty...guilty as sin.
Some people have trouble fully understanding the reason Christ had to die on a cross for our sins. From Adam and Eve’s fall in the garden, mankind has been guilty of carrying a sinful nature that we just can’t escape. Romans 3:23 states our condition clearly, "for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God," leaving no wriggle room whatsoever for our condition. Our greatest need is a savior to deliver us from the penalty of our sin, because Romans 6:23 tells us plainly "the wages of sin is death..." But God provides for this need as Romans 5:8 states, "God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us." The reception of this act of grace isn’t complicated, either. The promise in Romans 10:13 is just as clear as the rest of this Roman road, "Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved."
My brothers and I sat under a cloud of suspicion as my mother awaited a confession. In her eyes, all of us were guilty until one of us stepped forward. What was unlikely to happen back then, though, was for someone else to step forward for us. Someone who would take the punishment for the rest of us, though they were completely guiltless. I guess it would have been like He who knew no sin dying for the sins of the rest of us.
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