Monday, Monday, can’t trust that day.
I love it when friends can’t avoid Scripture when conversing (remember that as you have a few talk-abouts today). You know those guys… “That’s amazing that you mention that, look at what the Lord showed me today!” Sometimes the impact of their words are immediate, other times it takes a couple of hours to sink in. But when it does…
Remember the old Stones’ tune “Shattered?” Take a moment and look over Daniel’s final chapter. Mick may have been on to more than we give him credit for.
Since we’ve camped with an old dead guy from long ago, consider Hosea. My Pastor reminds us of the dutiful responsibility of any vacuum worth its weight in salt. Voids seek desperately to be filled. The prophet warned Israel that their lack of truth, mercy, and knowledge of God made room for a whole bunch of new attributes: swearing, deception, murder, stealing, and adultery (pun intended) Hosea 4:1-3. Looks as if Paul caught on to this principle as well (Romans 1).
Speaking on the subject of shattered-ness and vacuums, the author over at lilliessparrowsandgrass has provided us with a very appropriate and telling work titled “The Blessedness of Possessing Nothing.” AW Tozer is the inspiring mind behind these words and is worth a peek (go ahead, I’ll still be here when you get back).
Another book… <sigh> …I had a great feeling this one was going to be very worthwhile, provocative if you will. Author Jeff Goins, normally known for his writings on writing, has delivered this piece titled “Wrecked,” a work that examines “what the heck are we doing with our lives… our brief lives?” Here’s an excerpt from chapter one…
“As children, most of us needed no prompting to play, to engage in the grand experience of life.
But as adults, many of us do. Somewhere along the journey we lose our way. We get caught up in the pursuit of trivial things. For some, it’s money; for others, sex or fame. Some get stuck in the cruel cycle of moralism, endlessly striving to be ‘good enough.’ Whatever our fixation, we obsess over it. We give our lives to this pursuit of a promise that eludes us. And we wind up years down the road wondering what happened and why we feel so empty. This happens at age twenty, forty, or even sixty. Emptiness knows no boundaries.
We would do well to remember that this is strictly an adult problem. Children do not wait all year for two weeks of vacation. They don’t spend their lives doing things they hate so they can earn the right to do what they really want. They live life to the full, children do, and somehow we have to regain that innocence.
Something is missing. Something important. Something necessary to making a difference in the world. And most of us are afraid to find out what it is. Because we know. It’s the secret we’re afraid to admit: this will cost us our lives.”
Shattered… voids… wrecked… materialism? There’s a message in here somewhere folks… hopefully, I’m gonna get it.
“Alas for those that never sing, but die with all their music in them.” — Oliver Wendell Holmes