Real Life Reflections

I wonder how many books have been written, how many sermons have been preached, and how many retreats have been offered on the subject of prayer. I haven't done the research, but I'd venture a guess that it's more than a few, much more. I began to read a book on the subject a couple of days ago, but I found that rather than encourage me, it weighed me down. With each page, I felt the burden on my back grow heavier. This morning as I read, I pondered the problem and realized that the whole book is based on how I should pray. Virtually every chapter has a checklist. The author lines everything out for you from the proper time of day to pray (morning) to your physical posture (on your knees) to the types of prayer (praise, thanksgiving, petition, etc) to your attitude while in prayer (submission). No wonder I could feel my burden grow more weighty with each paragraph! I don't know about you, but my life already overflows with "shoulds." There are days wh

The second chapter of Mark begins with the story of a paraplegic who is lowered through the roof by his friends in order to see Jesus. There's much to be said about this story, but for today, I'll just reflect on the friends of the paraplegic. I wondered today as I read that story how different that man's life would have been had he and his friends not been so bold. What if they'd seen the crowd and given up? Turned around and gone home? Decided that they didn't want to be a bother? I mean, obviously, Jesus had his hands full with a crowd that size. I'm sad to say that that's probably what I would have done. Mark says that Jesus was "impressed by their boldness," and He not only healed the man's soul but his body as well. I'm not naturally bold or tenacious. I tend to think I should absorb whatever life hands my way and accept it as God's will, but lately, I've begun to see I'm a little off-balance in that regard. There

"The gospel is absurd and the life of Jesus is meaningless unless we believe that He lived, died, and rose again with but one purpose in mind: to make brand-new creations. Not to make people with better morals, but to create a community of . . . men and women . . . who would live in ever greater fidelity to the omnipresent Word of God, who would enter into the center of it all, the very heart and mystery of Christ, into the center of the flame that consumes, purifies, and sets everything aglow with peace, joy, boldness, and extravagant, furious love. This, my friends, is what it really means to be a Christian. Our religion never begins with what we do for God. It always starts with what God has done for us, the great and wondrous things that God dreamed of and achieved for us in Christ Jesus."     - From The Furious Longing of God by Brennan Manning: Life. Christianity. Faith. They're all about Him, the One who loved you enough to suffer the penalty that should h

I was hungry and you fed me. I was thirsty and you gave me a drink. I was homeless and you gave me a room. I was shirvering and you gave me clothes. I was sick and you stopped to visit. I was in prison and you came to me. Matthew 25: 35-36 ( The Message ) Do you ever read the Bible and feel condemned for who you're not ? Me too, and this is one of the major culprits. I'm not sure how many times I've read these words or heard them spoken from the pulpit or referred to in a book, but it's been more than just a few times, and each time, something inside me cringes. When do I ever do any of these things? I don't work in our church's benevolence ministry. I don't go downtown and hang out with the homeless, bringing them food, clothing, and offering our home as shelter even on the coldest of days. I don't visit prisoners. Therefore I'm a failure. A selfish pig. At least that's how I feel when I take these words at face value. Yet I know that be