Tag: personal comments

Making Stripes

I was watching the crew painting stripes in a parking lot. They were methodical and aware, I suppose. I suppose I wondered how they do what they do. I’ve been curious to understand exactly how they can get such straight  lines. Perhaps you have seen them. They are as straight as you can get.

As I watched them work, there was an instructive moment. They brought out a “chalk line” and measured out 15 to 20 feet. They snapped the line which was perfectly straight. All of a sudden there was a wonderfully perfect line of chalk. The painters would use this line as they painted the yellow stripe.

As I watched, I felt the presence of the Holy Spirit. He is in a habit of using such things. I considered everything I saw. The chalk, and the line gave me a sense of this present age. In a sense, it was the temporariness of this present moment. The chalk line was merely temporary. It did provide a straight line which the permanent line of paint could use. The chalk line made the paint line precise and accurate.

Reflecting on this, I renewed my vision from the temporal to the eternal. This present life is all chalk. We lay it out, but eternity will paint the line. We do what we must, to make sure our chalk lines are straight.  But we also understand that all we do. is temporary. Chalk can easily be  washed away. Our heart, to be precise, can easily become nothing.

The yellow paint of the lines, is quite permanent. As they are painstakingly laid out, they cover our chalk with permanence. This is quite amazing (to me, anyway). What is chalk is only the precursor to what is permanent. We must see through this if we will understand what is real, and true.

The chalk lines represent this life. All that we do is significant as it effects our ability to make the lines. But eternity, follows the lines we lay down. If we are somehow negligent, we will never lay down anything straight. We must put down the line that will become eternal and everlasting.

All that we do is chalk, but I truly believe that it has to be significant. What we lay down, in chalk form, becomes a certain eternal value. We direct where the paint will go. And perhaps that is all that is necessary.

 

ybic, Bryan

Related articles

Control the Brightness?

I have come to a place that much of what I have learned is wrong.  It is humbling to think that I knew so much, and aggressively propagated what I knew.  I am embarrassed by so much.

A room can be lighted in different ways.  A contractor determines what kind of illumination will be required, and the electrician will wire in the necessary outlets and switches.  One can eat dinner by candlelight, but its kind of challenging to read by.  I find personally, that I vastly prefer a brighter room than the murkiness of a room poorly lit.

For years I believed that our Christian life was a run-of-the mill on/off switch.  If it was off, there was a good chance it meant no light.  You turn it on, and “presto” the room was lit.  Spiritually, it worked the same.  You meet people everyday who live in darkness, they will not flip the switch.

Lately, I have come to see that the spiritual life is more like a dimmer switch. Using a dimmer means that the householder can adjust the light for the moment.  Dinner with the wife, and the switch dims the light to the desired level.  To tie “flies” or to do emergency surgery on the dog requires a lot of light (probably the max).

Some Christians keep their rooms bright, others not so much.  When I speak with someone, it seems I unconsciously am determining  just how much light they have.  I listen for verbal cues, underlying attitudes, and the joy and peace that is evident.  Do they love Jesus first and foremost, or is there a short-circuit of some kind?

Jesus said that we were to be a “city on a hill”.  Bright and obvious to everyone.  Some would lead us to believe that we are to camouflage ourselves to blend in.  And while a case can be made for that approach, we are simply not-of-this world.  We have been made for another.

_______________________

“You are the light of the world. A city on a hill cannot be hidden. 15Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house.”  Matthew 5:14-15, NIV

“For you were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Live as children of light.”  Ephesians 5:8, NIV

“You are all sons of the light and sons of the day. We do not belong to the night or to the darkness.”  1 Thessalonians 5:5, NIV

Related articles

Evil Gets a Makeover

by Catherine DeMonte LFMT

God delights in changing evil things into good. He has this crazy habit of taking dark things and making them new. Many of us have a checkered past, many hurtful and ugly things have been committed on us, as well as by us. We have been wounded, and we have hurt others.

There are some of us with a mental illness. And some with a chemical dependency. These have been a factor in our sin, but they are not excuses. The Book of Proverbs describes this “playing with fire.”

“Can a man carry fire next to his chest and his clothes not be burned?”

Proverbs 6:27, ESV

The first step we take is to “own up.” But alas, we have hid it for so long, denying and pretending that we have not been harmed, or have harmed others. We are masters of disguise, masquerading as whole people. When I was a boy, I often earned the task of cleaning the barn. You would scrape the manure into the gutter, and then dusted lime over anything left behind. But it was only cosmetic, it was simply covered up.

The deep promise of Jesus is not cosmetic. It is not superficial; it is not just “skin deep.” The profound actuality is that our transformation is inside out. It is a work that starts in our heart, and then works itself out where people can see. We have all tried to clean things up, but what we don’t need is more lime.

The love and forgiveness of our Lord is what we really must have. Our sins are making us very unpleasant people. As we get older we find that our evil has been compounded and extrapolated. The infection only spreads, and it gets worked throughout our lives and relationships. This is ruinous, and David understood.

“Then I confessed my sins to you
and didn’t hide my guilt.
I said, “I will confess my sins to the Lord,”
and you forgave my guilt. “

Psalm 32:5, NCV

We are sinners, and some of us are very talented at it. It is an art form to us. Our entire society, and every social aspect is sick with it. Jesus who knows us completely, and He loves us the most.

“In Christ we are set free by the blood of his death, and so we have forgiveness of sins. How rich is God’s grace,8 which he has given to us so fully and freely.”

Ephesians 1:7,8

“I sinned against the Lord,
so he was angry with me,
but he will defend my case in court.
He will bring about what is right for me.
Then he will bring me out into the light,
and I will see him set things right.”

Micah 7:9, NCV

Related articles

Broken Prayers From the Edge

I lock the doors.  Close the curtains.  And let God have it.

I clinch my fists in a maddening rage as my hands tremble violently.  Within moments, my fingers ache from the intense, white-knuckle tightness.  And my forearms cramp up.  The blood rushes to my head.  And my eyes burn and burn and burn from the tears.

I speak, then shout — and scream.

My voice becomes raspy as I rant.  And soon, my throat burns.  My heart is aflame with grief and rage, so much so that my ears can no longer understand the words coming out of my mouth.  Before it’s over, I will blow my nose several times and wipe my eyes often and much.

I am broken — and I am praying.

I start with the loss of my friend, JD, a man taken far, far too soon.  A man who left behind a wife and two children.  I tell God that I do not think it is fair for his children to grow up without a father.  And then, I ask God why He didn’t take me instead, that I want to be with my children, that I don’t have any here for me.

“All I do is suffer and I am sick to death of it!!!”

And then, I rant about all the believers — never the broken — who paint a picture of life with Christ as a portrait of perfection.  Their grandiose testimonies have made me feel like God has something against me, like grace is a joke for people like me because my life has been so hard.  My brokenness is not the result of one trial, nor one tragedy — but a lifetime of unbearable loss.

“And it just keeps happening!!!”

I rattle off the names of those I’ve lost in just the past five years:  Jerry, Britany, Virginia, Rob, Terry, Nancy, Leroy, Art, Kim, Greg, Melody — and now JD.  I tell God that I am the anti-Midas.  Everything King Midas touched turned to gold, but I feel like everything I touch turns to dirt.  I am cursed.  “God has raised His fist against me.”

“How am I supposed to go on?  How?”

And then, in that moment, all of my rage and all of my grief and all that I am burns and burns and burns for The Almighty.  I am a man of faith — and, even in the midst of this monstrous mess my life has become, I know that He could end every ounce of this despair with a simple whisper.  A sign.  A something.  Anything.

“If You would just speak, this madness would end!”

With the last tissue, I tell God that I am convinced He wants me to suffer — alone, in this maddening agony.  I tell Him that I have given up on Him, that I cannot take any of this any more.  That I am broken.  And my heart is dead.  My pain is too great, my anguish too deep.  And that I will never serve God again for as long as I live.

“I can’t do it!  I can’t do it!  I just can’t do it!”

Three days later, God spoke to me through a dream.

“In my dream, I had a vision…”

To learn more, read “Safe in the Mouth of Danger.”

 

Love,

The NorEaster

Related articles