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16. Our Thinking vs. Godís Promises.
a. We say- Itís impossible. God says- All things are possible with Me.
b. We- I canít do it. God- You can do all things through Christ.
c. We- Iím too tired. God- Come to Me, I will give you rest.
d. We- Iím always worried and frustrated. God- Cast all your cares on Me.
e. We- I canít go on. God- My grace is sufficient for you.
f. We- I canít figure things out. God- I will direct your steps.
g. We- Iím not able. God- I am able.
h. We- Itís not worth it. God- It will be worth it.
i. We- I canít manage. God- I will supply all your needs.
j. We- Iím afraid. God- I have not given you a spirit of fear.
k. WE- I donít have enough faith. God- Iíve given everyone a measure of faith.
l. WE- Iím not smart enough. God- I give you wisdom.
m. We- I feel all alone. God- I will never leave you or forsake you.
John Williams III
To be Godís property mean that we are owned by God. There is a powerful story about an English missionary whose house was being looted. "An English missionary died in the early part of this century [the 20th century]. Immediately after his death his former neighbors broke into his house and started carrying away his possessions. The English Consul was notified, and since there was no lock on the door of the missionaryís house, he pasted a piece of paper across it and affixed the seal of England on it. The looter did not dare break the seal because the worldís most powerful nation stood behind it". (Billy Graham. The Holy Spirit. Dallas: Word Publishing, 1988, p. 74). To be sealed means that we are Godís property!
God is like...
written by a 12 year old
God is like tide- he cleans all our stains
snapple- Heís the best stuff on Earth
coke- Heís the real thing
car- Heíll take you places you couldnít go
daddy- he loves me
GOD IS EVERY WHERE
A fifth grade teacher in a Christian school asked her class to look at TV commercials and see if they could use them in some way to communicate ideas about God. Here are some of the results:
GOD is like a FORD ... Heís got a better idea.
GOD is like COKE ... Heís the real thing.
GOD is like HALLMARK CARDS ... He cares enough to send His very best.
GOD is like TIDE ... He gets the stains out that others leave behind.
GOD is like GENERAL ELECTRIC ... He brings good things to life.
GOD is like SEARS ... He has everything.
GOD is like ALKA-SELTZER ... Try Him, youíll like him.
GOD is like SCOTCH TAPE ... You canít see him, but you know Heís there.
GOD is like DELTA .... Heís rea...
We have an anchor that keeps the soul
Steadfast and sure while the billows roll,
Fastened to the Rock which cannot move,
Grounded firm and deep in the Saviorís love.
We fear men so much because we fear God so little.
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The story is told (by Ernest Hemingway) of a father and his teenage son who had a relationship that had become strained to the point of breaking. Finally the son ran away from home. His father, however, began a journey in search of his rebellious son. Finally, in Madrid, in a last desperate effort to find him, the father put an ad in the newspaper. The ad read: “DEAR PACO, MEET ME IN FRONT OF THE NEWSPAPER OFFICE AT NOON. ALL IS FORGIVEN. I LOVE YOU. YOUR FATHER.”
The next day at noon in front of the newspaper office, 800 “Pacos” showed up.
A GLIMPSE OF MEóCOMMUNION MEDITATION
In Mel Gibsonís Movie, ďThe Passion of ChristĒ there is an obscure detail in the crucifixion scene that probably goes unnoticed by most people, but it is a detail that says so much.
When Jesus is being placed on the cross, the camera comes close to watch as a large spike is positioned in the middle of Jesusí hand. Then, a mallet comes into focus, and a rugged hand swings it to drive the spike. Those are all things you expect to see.
But there is something you donít see. You never see the face of the one who drives that nail. You never get a glimpse into the eyes, or heart of the one who so assuredly pounds away until the spike has passed through Jesusí flesh and comes to rest in the wood of the cross.
You might be interested to know that the person who plays that role in the movie is the director himself, Mel Gibson. But why does he never show the face of the one who put Jesus on the cross? Why does he not give us the identity of the one who had the gall to put the Son of God to death?
He didnít show us that face because that face was his. It was ours. We are the ones who put Jesus to death. It wasnít the Romans. It wasnít the Jews. It was our sin that nailed Jesus to the cross.
Colossians 2:13-14 says: ďWhen you were dead in your sins and in the uncircumcision of your sinful nature, God made you alive with Christ. He forgave us all...
A man by the name of Max DePree related the following heart-touching story:
Esther, my wife, and I have a granddaughter named Zoe, the Greek word for life. She was born prematurely and weighed one pound, seven ounces, so small that my wedding ring could slide up her arm to her shoulder. The neonatologist who first examined her told us that she had a 5 to 10 percent chance of living three days. When Esther and I scrubbed up for our first visit and saw Zoe in her isolette in the neonatal intensive care unit, she had two IVs in her navel, one in her foot, a monitor on each side of her chest, and a respirator tube and a feeding tube in her mouth.
To complicate matters, Zoe’s biological father had jumped ship the month before Zoe was born. Realizing this, a wise and caring nurse named Ruth gave me my instructions.
"For the next several months, at least, you’re the surrogate father. I want you to come to the hospital every day to visit Zoe, and when you come, I want you to rub her body and her legs and arms with the tip of your finger. While you’re caressing her, you should tell her over and over how much you love her, because she has to be able to connect your voice to your touch."
God knew that we also needed both his voice and his touch. So he gave us not only the Word but also his Son. And he gave us not only Jesus Christ but also his body, the church. God’s voice and touch say, "I love you."
Lifeís a little thing! Robert Browning once wrote. But a little thing can mean a life. Even two lives. How well I remember. Two years ago in downtown Denver my friend, Scott Reasoner, and I saw something tiny and insignificant change the world, but no one else even seemed to notice. It was one of those beautiful Denver days. Crystal clear, no humidity, not a cloud in the sky. We decided to walk the ten blocks to an outdoor restaurant rather than take the shuttle bus that runs up and down the Sixteenth Street Mall. The restaurant, in the shape of a baseball diamond, was called The Blake Street Baseball Club. The tables were set appropriately on the grass infield. Many colorful pennants and flags hung limply overhead. As we sat outside, the sun continued to beat down on us, and it became increasingly hot. There wasnít a hint of a breeze, and heat radiated up from the tabletop. Nothing moved, except the waiters, of course. And they didnít move very fast, either. After lunch Scott and I started to walk back up the mall. We both noticed a mother and her young daughter walking out of a card shop toward the street. She was holding her daughter by the hand while reading a greeting card. It was immediately apparent to us that she was so engrossed in the card that she did not notice a shuttle bus moving toward her at a good clip. She and her daughter were one step away from disaster when Scott started to yell. He hadnít even gotten a word out when a breeze blew the card out of her hand and over her shoulder. She spun around and grabbed at the card, nearly knocking her daughter over. By the time she picked up the card from the ground and turned back around to cross the street, the shuttle bus had whizzed by her. She never even knew what almost happened. To this day two things continue to perplex me about this event. Where did that one spurt of wind come from to blow the card out of that young motherís hand? There had not been a whisper of wind at lunch or during our long walk back up the mall. Secondly, if Scott had been able to get his words out, the young mother might have looked up at us as they continued to walk into the bus. It was the wind that made her turn back to the card - in the one direction that saved her life and that of her daughter. The passing bus did not create the wind. On the contrary, the wind came from the opposite direction. I have no doubt it was a breath from God protecting them both. But the awesomeness of this miracle is that she never knew. As we continued back to work, I wondered how God often acts in our lives without our being aware. The difference between life and death can very well be a little thing. Miracles often blow unseen through our lives.