Ever wondered what a single person can do for the kingdom of heaven?
check this out:
Friday, March 30, 2007
Monday, March 26, 2007
Sunday, March 25, 2007
Just thought i would share one of my favorite Psalms:
-Psalm 63-
O God, you are my God; earnestly I seek you;
my soul thirsts for you;
my flesh faints for you,
as in a dry and weary land where there is no water.
So I have looked upon you in the sanctuary,
beholding your power and glory.
Because your steadfast love is better than life,
my lips will praise you.
So I will bless you as long as I live;
in your name I will lift up my hands.
My soul will be satisfied as with fat and rich food,
and my mouth will praise you with joyful lips,
when I remember you upon my bed,
and meditate on you in the watches of the night;
for you have been my help,
and in the shadow of your wings I will sing for joy.
My soul clings to you;
your right hand upholds me.
But those who seek to destroy my life
shall go down into the depths of the earth;
they shall be given over to the power of the sword;
they shall be a portion for jackals.
But the king shall rejoice in God;
all who swear by him shall exult,
for the mouths of liars will be stopped.
This is how I want to live my life-Always seeking God like david in this psalm!
-Psalm 63-
O God, you are my God; earnestly I seek you;
my soul thirsts for you;
my flesh faints for you,
as in a dry and weary land where there is no water.
So I have looked upon you in the sanctuary,
beholding your power and glory.
Because your steadfast love is better than life,
my lips will praise you.
So I will bless you as long as I live;
in your name I will lift up my hands.
My soul will be satisfied as with fat and rich food,
and my mouth will praise you with joyful lips,
when I remember you upon my bed,
and meditate on you in the watches of the night;
for you have been my help,
and in the shadow of your wings I will sing for joy.
My soul clings to you;
your right hand upholds me.
But those who seek to destroy my life
shall go down into the depths of the earth;
they shall be given over to the power of the sword;
they shall be a portion for jackals.
But the king shall rejoice in God;
all who swear by him shall exult,
for the mouths of liars will be stopped.
This is how I want to live my life-Always seeking God like david in this psalm!
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
joy, dancing, and sorrow
There are times in my life where i experience joy that is so complete that I want to just blow up. Times I want to just run around screaming "I LOVE JESUS!!" Sometimes my joy makes me speecheless. I have had times when I could not speak, I can only cry. When I get to see God face to face in heaven, I am scared I might just blow up! In 2 Samuel 6:14 David, The King!, dances before the Lord just because the ark of the covenant was brought back to Jerusalem. How much more reason, given Jesus, do we as christians have to dance. And the beauty of our dancing, is the fact that it is an act of not only overflowing joy but of surrender to the God of the universe. We empty everything we are before God and he fills us back up overflowing.
But there is another part to this joy. With this knowledge and joy comes sorrow. The sorrow I think that Jesus had when he weeped over Jerusalem. I have sorrow for the people who are completely missing all this joy. The ones who the bible says are blinded to the Gospel. I have wept over my friends before because I fear they will never know Jesus and his radical power to change lives. I ask the question constantly before God: "why me?, why did you reveal your gospel to me? I am just as guilty as the rest of the world! I deserve HELL, and you showed me the way! why can't others see this truth too? Why have you allowed the god of this age to blind anyone's mind?"
If you are reading this and you don't know Jesus in a way that he makes you want to blow up for joy I plead with you to get to know him like that. If you are a christian, forsake yourself and give everything to him. If you are not a christian, come to the cross of Christ and he will give you forgiveness and life and Joy. He can make you right with God solely by his sacrifice.
But there is another part to this joy. With this knowledge and joy comes sorrow. The sorrow I think that Jesus had when he weeped over Jerusalem. I have sorrow for the people who are completely missing all this joy. The ones who the bible says are blinded to the Gospel. I have wept over my friends before because I fear they will never know Jesus and his radical power to change lives. I ask the question constantly before God: "why me?, why did you reveal your gospel to me? I am just as guilty as the rest of the world! I deserve HELL, and you showed me the way! why can't others see this truth too? Why have you allowed the god of this age to blind anyone's mind?"
If you are reading this and you don't know Jesus in a way that he makes you want to blow up for joy I plead with you to get to know him like that. If you are a christian, forsake yourself and give everything to him. If you are not a christian, come to the cross of Christ and he will give you forgiveness and life and Joy. He can make you right with God solely by his sacrifice.
Saturday, March 17, 2007
our focus and pleasure
C.S. Lewis says that
Indeed, if we consider the unblushing promises of reward and the staggering nature of the rewards promised in the Gospels, it would seem that Our Lord finds our desires, not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.
That is a true that is hard to grasp sometimes in life. Facing my failures in life, I sometimes can see that the reason for my failures is that I love cheap, easy pleasure. So often during my day, spending time with God is not something that I look to for enjoyment. I want to quick, easy pleasures to enjoy. I so often lose sight of the joy I have found in God. I too easily forget what it is like to communion with Jesus. I hate losing focus.
As a christian, my focus should be on Jesus. If my focus strays but a little, life becomes that much harder and regretful.
It's hard for me to live among people of this world. When the whole world is focused on these cheap pleasures, I begin to be influenced by that without even knowing it. Even the christians I know can hurt me when I see them focused on other things as well. Why do christians talk about video games, or movies, or sports when they get together. I don't mean that those things are bad to talk about, but what about when they are ALL christians talk about. I don't know about you, but i LOVE to talk about Jesus. I like theology because it gives us a way to talk about God by using the resources of our minds.
I guess all I'm saying is that christianity and church is all about Jesus, and our lives should be the same. And that, is one of the easiest things to say and the hardest to do.
Indeed, if we consider the unblushing promises of reward and the staggering nature of the rewards promised in the Gospels, it would seem that Our Lord finds our desires, not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.
That is a true that is hard to grasp sometimes in life. Facing my failures in life, I sometimes can see that the reason for my failures is that I love cheap, easy pleasure. So often during my day, spending time with God is not something that I look to for enjoyment. I want to quick, easy pleasures to enjoy. I so often lose sight of the joy I have found in God. I too easily forget what it is like to communion with Jesus. I hate losing focus.
As a christian, my focus should be on Jesus. If my focus strays but a little, life becomes that much harder and regretful.
It's hard for me to live among people of this world. When the whole world is focused on these cheap pleasures, I begin to be influenced by that without even knowing it. Even the christians I know can hurt me when I see them focused on other things as well. Why do christians talk about video games, or movies, or sports when they get together. I don't mean that those things are bad to talk about, but what about when they are ALL christians talk about. I don't know about you, but i LOVE to talk about Jesus. I like theology because it gives us a way to talk about God by using the resources of our minds.
I guess all I'm saying is that christianity and church is all about Jesus, and our lives should be the same. And that, is one of the easiest things to say and the hardest to do.
Who then are you, my God?
I have been reading Augustine's Confessions. This is the way he describes God:
Who then are you, my God? What, I ask, but God who is Lord? For 'who is the Lord but the Lord', or 'who is God but our God?' (Ps 17:32). Most high, utterly good, utterly powerful, most omnipotent, most merciful and most just, deeply hidden yet most intimately present, perfection of both beauty and strength, stable and incomprehensible, immutable and yet changing all things, never new, never old, making everything new and 'leading' the proud 'to be old without their knowledge' (Job 9:5, Old Latin version); always active, always in repose, gathering to yourself but not in need, supporting and filling and protecting, creating and nurturing and bringing to maturity, searching even though to you nothing is lacking: you love without burning, you are jealous in a way that is free of anxiety, you 'repent' (Gen 6:6) without the pain of regret, you are wrathful and remain tranquil. You will a change without any change in your design. You recover what you find, yet have never lost. Never in any need, you rejoice in your gains (Luke 15:7); you are never avaricious, yet you require interest (Matt. 25:27). We pay you more than you require so as to make you our debtor, yet who has anything which does not belong to you? (I Cor. 4:7). You pay off debts, though owing nothing to anyone; you cancel debts and incur no loss. But in these words what have I said, my God, my life, my holy sweetness? What has anyone achieved in words when he speaks about you? Yet woe to those who are silent about you because, though loquacious with verbosity, they have nothing to say.
Who then are you, my God? What, I ask, but God who is Lord? For 'who is the Lord but the Lord', or 'who is God but our God?' (Ps 17:32). Most high, utterly good, utterly powerful, most omnipotent, most merciful and most just, deeply hidden yet most intimately present, perfection of both beauty and strength, stable and incomprehensible, immutable and yet changing all things, never new, never old, making everything new and 'leading' the proud 'to be old without their knowledge' (Job 9:5, Old Latin version); always active, always in repose, gathering to yourself but not in need, supporting and filling and protecting, creating and nurturing and bringing to maturity, searching even though to you nothing is lacking: you love without burning, you are jealous in a way that is free of anxiety, you 'repent' (Gen 6:6) without the pain of regret, you are wrathful and remain tranquil. You will a change without any change in your design. You recover what you find, yet have never lost. Never in any need, you rejoice in your gains (Luke 15:7); you are never avaricious, yet you require interest (Matt. 25:27). We pay you more than you require so as to make you our debtor, yet who has anything which does not belong to you? (I Cor. 4:7). You pay off debts, though owing nothing to anyone; you cancel debts and incur no loss. But in these words what have I said, my God, my life, my holy sweetness? What has anyone achieved in words when he speaks about you? Yet woe to those who are silent about you because, though loquacious with verbosity, they have nothing to say.
Who is Jesus?
Chuck Missler wrote this sweet little article or poem or whatever you want to call it answering that question called "My King"
Spurgeon on salvation
I read this awhile ago in Charles H. Spurgeon's morning and evening devotional book and i really liked it, and don't be surprised if in the future i put more of these up because i love Spurgeon's writings.
Mr. MacDonald asked the inhabitants of the island of St. Kilda how a man must be saved. An old man replied, "We shall be saved if we repent, and forsake our sins, and turn to God." "Yes," said a middle-aged female, "and with a true heart too." "Aye," rejoined a third, "and with prayer"; and, added a fourth, "It must be the prayer of the heart." "And we must be diligent too," said a fifth, "in keeping the commandments." Thus, each having contributed his mite, feeling that a very decent creed had been made up, they all looked and listened for the preacher's approbation, but they had aroused his deepest pity. The carnal mind always maps out for itself a way in which self can work and become great, but the Lord's way is quite the reverse. Believing and being baptized are no matters of merit to be gloried in—they are so simple that boasting is excluded, and free grace bears the palm. It may be that the reader is unsaved—what is the reason? Do you think the way of salvation as laid down in the text to be dubious? How can that be when God has pledged his own word for its certainty? Do you think it too easy? Why, then, do you not attend to it? Its ease leaves those without excuse who neglect it. To believe is simply to trust, to depend, to rely upon Christ Jesus. To be baptized is to submit to the ordinance which our Lord fulfilled at Jordan, to which the converted ones submitted at Pentecost, to which the jailer yielded obedience the very night of his conversion. The outward sign saves not, but it sets forth to us our death, burial, and resurrection with Jesus, and, like the Lord's Supper, is not to be neglected. Reader, do you believe in Jesus? Then, dear friend, dismiss your fears, you shall be saved. Are you still an unbeliever, then remember there is but one door, and if you will not enter by it you will perish in your sins.
Mr. MacDonald asked the inhabitants of the island of St. Kilda how a man must be saved. An old man replied, "We shall be saved if we repent, and forsake our sins, and turn to God." "Yes," said a middle-aged female, "and with a true heart too." "Aye," rejoined a third, "and with prayer"; and, added a fourth, "It must be the prayer of the heart." "And we must be diligent too," said a fifth, "in keeping the commandments." Thus, each having contributed his mite, feeling that a very decent creed had been made up, they all looked and listened for the preacher's approbation, but they had aroused his deepest pity. The carnal mind always maps out for itself a way in which self can work and become great, but the Lord's way is quite the reverse. Believing and being baptized are no matters of merit to be gloried in—they are so simple that boasting is excluded, and free grace bears the palm. It may be that the reader is unsaved—what is the reason? Do you think the way of salvation as laid down in the text to be dubious? How can that be when God has pledged his own word for its certainty? Do you think it too easy? Why, then, do you not attend to it? Its ease leaves those without excuse who neglect it. To believe is simply to trust, to depend, to rely upon Christ Jesus. To be baptized is to submit to the ordinance which our Lord fulfilled at Jordan, to which the converted ones submitted at Pentecost, to which the jailer yielded obedience the very night of his conversion. The outward sign saves not, but it sets forth to us our death, burial, and resurrection with Jesus, and, like the Lord's Supper, is not to be neglected. Reader, do you believe in Jesus? Then, dear friend, dismiss your fears, you shall be saved. Are you still an unbeliever, then remember there is but one door, and if you will not enter by it you will perish in your sins.
Friday, March 16, 2007
Jesus
Jesus. Is that name beautiful to you? I know it is to me. Sometimes when I heard his name spoken in worship I almost want to cry because they are talking about the name of the beautiful savior to whom I owe everything to. The name Jesus in itself is a beautiful name and what makes it the most beautiful is the fact that it is the name of my God. I was listening to a worship cd the other day and they sang "we fall down" in swahili. The name of Jesus is Yesu in swahili and it sounds sweet to the ear. I've been trying to figure out what exactly I am going to be putting in this blog and I think it would be cool if I could just talk a lot about Jesus. I mean compared to Jesus, everything else seems so trivial and unimportant. Jesus is both the supreme God and King over everything that has been made but he is also the intimate lover of our souls. He is not only the powerful voice that demands obedience but he is also the one who helps us the obey. He is the one who brings judgement, death, and wrath but he is also the one who took that wrath upon himself and gave us eternal life. If you know this Jesus, please give his name the credit it deserves.
the room
This as a real dream Josh Harris had. It really makes you think.
so check it out:
In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in the room. There were no distinguishing features save for the one wall covered with small index-card files. They were like the ones in libraries that list titles by author or subject in alphabetical order. But these files, which stretched from floor to ceiling and seemingly endlessly in either direction, had very different headings. As I drew near the wall of files, the first to catch my attention was one that read "Girls I Have Liked." I opened it and began flipping through the cards. I quickly shut it, shocked to realize that I recognized the names written on each one.And then without being told, I knew exactly where I was. This lifeless room with its small files was a crude catalog system for my life. Here were written the actions of my every moment, big and small, in a detail my memory couldn't match.A sense of wonder and curiosity, coupled with horror, stirred within me as I began randomly opening files and exploring their content. Some brought joy and sweet memories; others a sense of shame and regret so intense that I would look over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching. A file named "Friends" was next to one marked "Friends I Have Betrayed."The titles ranged from the mundane to the outright weird. "Books I Have Read," "Lies I Have Told," "Comfort I Have Given," "Jokes I Have Laughed At." Some were almost hilarious in their exactness: "Things I've Yelled at My Brothers." Others I couldn't laugh at: "Things I Have Done in My Anger," "Things I Have Muttered Under My Breath at My Parents." I never ceased to be surprised by the contents. Often there were many more cards than I expected. Sometimes fewer than I hoped.I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the life I had lived. Could it be possible that I had the time in my 20 years to write each of these thousands or even millions of cards? But each card confirmed this truth. Each was written in my own handwriting. Each signed with my signature.When I pulled out the file marked "Songs I Have Listened To," I realized the files grew to contain their contents. The cards were packed tightly, and yet after two or three yards, I hadn't found the end of the file. I shut it, shamed, not so much by the quality of music, but more by the vast amount of time I knew that file represented.When I came to a file marked "Lustful Thoughts," I felt a chill run through my body. I pulled the file out only an inch, not willing to test its size, and drew out a card. I shuddered at its detailed content. I felt sick to think that such a moment had been recorded.An almost animal rage broke on me. One thought dominated my mind: "No one must ever see these cards! No one must ever see this room! I have to destroy them!" In an insane frenzy I yanked the file out. Its size didn't matter now. I had to empty it and burn the cards. But as I took it at one end and began pounding it on the floor, I could not dislodge a single card. I became desperate and pulled out a card, only to find it as strong as steel when I tried to tear itDefeated and utterly helpless, I returned the file to its slot. Leaning my forehead against the wall, I let out a long, self-pitying sigh. And then I saw it. The title bore "People I Have Shared the Gospel With." The handle was brighter than those around it, newer, almost unused. I pulled on its handle and a small box not more than three inches long fell into my hands. I could count the cards it contained on one hand.And then the tears came. I began to weep. Sobs so deep that they hurt started in my stomach and shook through me. I fell on my knees and cried. I cried out of shame, from the overwhelming shame of it all. The rows of file shelves swirled in my tear-filled eyes. No one must ever, ever know of this room. I must lock it up and hide the key.But then as I pushed away the tears, I saw Him. No, please not Him. Not here. Oh, anyone but Jesus.I watched helplessly as He began to open the files and read the cards. I couldn't bear to watch His response. And in the moments I could bring myself to look at His face, I saw a sorrow deeper than my own. He seemed to intuitively go to the worst boxes. Why did He have to read every one?Finally He turned and looked at me from across the room. He looked at me with pity in His eyes. But this was a pity that didn't anger me. I dropped my head, covered my face with my hands and began to cry again. He walked over and put His arm around me. He could have said so many things. But He didn't say a word. He just cried with me.Then He got up and walked back to the wall of files. Starting at one end of the room, He took out a file and, one by one, began to sign His name over mine on each card."No!" I shouted rushing to Him. All I could find to say was "No, no," as I pulled the card from Him. His name shouldn't be on these cards. But there it was, written in red so rich, so dark, so alive. The name of Jesus covered mine. It was written with His blood.He gently took the card back. He smiled a sad smile and began to sign the cards. I don't think I'll ever understand how He did it so quickly, but the next instant it seemed I heard Him close the last file and walk back to my side. He placed His hand on my shoulder and said, "It is finished."I stood up, and He led me out of the room. There was no lock on its door. There were still cards to be written.
so check it out:
In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in the room. There were no distinguishing features save for the one wall covered with small index-card files. They were like the ones in libraries that list titles by author or subject in alphabetical order. But these files, which stretched from floor to ceiling and seemingly endlessly in either direction, had very different headings. As I drew near the wall of files, the first to catch my attention was one that read "Girls I Have Liked." I opened it and began flipping through the cards. I quickly shut it, shocked to realize that I recognized the names written on each one.And then without being told, I knew exactly where I was. This lifeless room with its small files was a crude catalog system for my life. Here were written the actions of my every moment, big and small, in a detail my memory couldn't match.A sense of wonder and curiosity, coupled with horror, stirred within me as I began randomly opening files and exploring their content. Some brought joy and sweet memories; others a sense of shame and regret so intense that I would look over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching. A file named "Friends" was next to one marked "Friends I Have Betrayed."The titles ranged from the mundane to the outright weird. "Books I Have Read," "Lies I Have Told," "Comfort I Have Given," "Jokes I Have Laughed At." Some were almost hilarious in their exactness: "Things I've Yelled at My Brothers." Others I couldn't laugh at: "Things I Have Done in My Anger," "Things I Have Muttered Under My Breath at My Parents." I never ceased to be surprised by the contents. Often there were many more cards than I expected. Sometimes fewer than I hoped.I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the life I had lived. Could it be possible that I had the time in my 20 years to write each of these thousands or even millions of cards? But each card confirmed this truth. Each was written in my own handwriting. Each signed with my signature.When I pulled out the file marked "Songs I Have Listened To," I realized the files grew to contain their contents. The cards were packed tightly, and yet after two or three yards, I hadn't found the end of the file. I shut it, shamed, not so much by the quality of music, but more by the vast amount of time I knew that file represented.When I came to a file marked "Lustful Thoughts," I felt a chill run through my body. I pulled the file out only an inch, not willing to test its size, and drew out a card. I shuddered at its detailed content. I felt sick to think that such a moment had been recorded.An almost animal rage broke on me. One thought dominated my mind: "No one must ever see these cards! No one must ever see this room! I have to destroy them!" In an insane frenzy I yanked the file out. Its size didn't matter now. I had to empty it and burn the cards. But as I took it at one end and began pounding it on the floor, I could not dislodge a single card. I became desperate and pulled out a card, only to find it as strong as steel when I tried to tear itDefeated and utterly helpless, I returned the file to its slot. Leaning my forehead against the wall, I let out a long, self-pitying sigh. And then I saw it. The title bore "People I Have Shared the Gospel With." The handle was brighter than those around it, newer, almost unused. I pulled on its handle and a small box not more than three inches long fell into my hands. I could count the cards it contained on one hand.And then the tears came. I began to weep. Sobs so deep that they hurt started in my stomach and shook through me. I fell on my knees and cried. I cried out of shame, from the overwhelming shame of it all. The rows of file shelves swirled in my tear-filled eyes. No one must ever, ever know of this room. I must lock it up and hide the key.But then as I pushed away the tears, I saw Him. No, please not Him. Not here. Oh, anyone but Jesus.I watched helplessly as He began to open the files and read the cards. I couldn't bear to watch His response. And in the moments I could bring myself to look at His face, I saw a sorrow deeper than my own. He seemed to intuitively go to the worst boxes. Why did He have to read every one?Finally He turned and looked at me from across the room. He looked at me with pity in His eyes. But this was a pity that didn't anger me. I dropped my head, covered my face with my hands and began to cry again. He walked over and put His arm around me. He could have said so many things. But He didn't say a word. He just cried with me.Then He got up and walked back to the wall of files. Starting at one end of the room, He took out a file and, one by one, began to sign His name over mine on each card."No!" I shouted rushing to Him. All I could find to say was "No, no," as I pulled the card from Him. His name shouldn't be on these cards. But there it was, written in red so rich, so dark, so alive. The name of Jesus covered mine. It was written with His blood.He gently took the card back. He smiled a sad smile and began to sign the cards. I don't think I'll ever understand how He did it so quickly, but the next instant it seemed I heard Him close the last file and walk back to my side. He placed His hand on my shoulder and said, "It is finished."I stood up, and He led me out of the room. There was no lock on its door. There were still cards to be written.
Welcome to my blog
I am Victor Ware and I am a brand new blogger here. You don't need to know that much about me other than that I am a sinner and that Jesus Christ is my savior. My goal in life is to seek this savior with everything I am. This blog is so I can put down things that i encounter in this journey toward knowing this savior. The title of this blog comes from the idea of having a reverence for God even though he is so mysterious and so above human understanding. I hope you will enjoy reading this blog.
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