Lord, please don't let me be a Saul.
Saul is a control freak of great magnitude. We talked about control freaks at a lunch I went to today, but there is no one, let me repeat -- no one, that even approaches the fringes of control freakiness that Saul lives out. At least, no one at that lunch that I could tell.
The story of Saul is a great example of how control is an illusion. Saul, as king with authority and power over his servants and minions, would have been one person on earth you would guess would be able to "off" (or rather kill) David. I mean, really. If anyone could do that, you would guess it would be Saul. He had the resources, the cunning, the desire, the boldness, the weapons, etc., etc., etc. But all these things, as far as I am concerned, simply served to give Saul an illusion of control.
How ironic is it that he saw this principle demonstrated in front of his very eyes as David defeated Goliath with a mere slingshot.
When the Spirit of the Lord is with you, you need nothing else.
Lord, I want your Spirit -- nothing else. I'd rather go tend sheep with your Spirit, than be a king with the illusion of control.
Tuesday, March 28, 2006
Friday, March 24, 2006
Captive Thought
“We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ.”
2 Corinthians 10:5
Captive Thought
So, I’ve been working out for a couple of weeks now. I’m trying not to think of it as just another cycle in my life, but more a recognition that without working out, I will not be physically fit, and the most useful gift God gave me upon my birth – my body – will surely suffer for my lack of attention.
Anyway, I tried the YMCA in the Castledowns area of Edmonton, Alberta – a fine facility. The equipment appears to be fairly new and immaculately cared for. And the people who work out there appear to come from every nation and station of life. It is quite interesting and heartening to see so many different kinds of faces at “The Y”. I’d been going with Barb, the Children’s Pastor at Central Tabernacle (now North Pointe Community Church), and she would bring a combination lock so we could lock our purses and clothes up in the locker room.
However, I flew solo on my third visit there, and as I was driving toward “The Y”, and wondering where I would be able to put my purse, I happened to glance at the little bucket container between the front seats in my car, and there was a combination lock. Laughing to myself (frankly, because God seems to anticipate every single little need in my life), I picked up the lock and tried to remember the combination. I knew the last number was ‘2’ and that the difference between the first two numbers was ‘2’ because that is how I remember things, by their relationship to one another. I was sure it was 12-10-2. But it was not. Perhaps 10-12-2. No. How about 24-22-2. No again. I tried many, many combinations, but nothing worked. Ah well, it had been three years since I had used the lock, so I wasn’t even all that frustrated when I put the lock back into the container and locked my purse in the trunk of the car.
A few days later, I decided to go to the gym with Barb again. But first, I went to dinner with Carla. Carla was in the mood for French Onion Soup, but what they served was just terrible, so she sent the food back to the kitchen, we had a soda, and then it was time to leave for the gym. Jogging to the car, I realized that with every step, I was saying a number in my head: “34-36-2, 34-36-2, 34-36-2, 34-36-2, etc.” I remember half-consciously wondering why there were numbers flitting through my mind, and I remember almost letting them go. Almost. But as I was getting ready to toss the thoughts out as garbage, I suddenly realized it must be the combination to my old lock, and sure enough it was.
As I write this little story tonight, I wonder what other thoughts are flitting through my mind and getting thrown out instead of being recognized and then dealt with. I wonder if my thoughts would be considered garbage or gold? Rick Warren tells the story of his father’s passing away, and in his delirium, his uppermost thoughts coming out of his mouth – “One more for Jesus, one more for Jesus, one more for Jesus, [etc.]”.
Tonight I pray for a transformed heart, a heart that seeks the will of God, a heart that opens up to God, a heart that cares more for others than itself, a heart that would know and follow its purpose. Lord, help me to take captive that thought and keep it playing in the background of my mind.
2 Corinthians 10:5
Captive Thought
So, I’ve been working out for a couple of weeks now. I’m trying not to think of it as just another cycle in my life, but more a recognition that without working out, I will not be physically fit, and the most useful gift God gave me upon my birth – my body – will surely suffer for my lack of attention.
Anyway, I tried the YMCA in the Castledowns area of Edmonton, Alberta – a fine facility. The equipment appears to be fairly new and immaculately cared for. And the people who work out there appear to come from every nation and station of life. It is quite interesting and heartening to see so many different kinds of faces at “The Y”. I’d been going with Barb, the Children’s Pastor at Central Tabernacle (now North Pointe Community Church), and she would bring a combination lock so we could lock our purses and clothes up in the locker room.
However, I flew solo on my third visit there, and as I was driving toward “The Y”, and wondering where I would be able to put my purse, I happened to glance at the little bucket container between the front seats in my car, and there was a combination lock. Laughing to myself (frankly, because God seems to anticipate every single little need in my life), I picked up the lock and tried to remember the combination. I knew the last number was ‘2’ and that the difference between the first two numbers was ‘2’ because that is how I remember things, by their relationship to one another. I was sure it was 12-10-2. But it was not. Perhaps 10-12-2. No. How about 24-22-2. No again. I tried many, many combinations, but nothing worked. Ah well, it had been three years since I had used the lock, so I wasn’t even all that frustrated when I put the lock back into the container and locked my purse in the trunk of the car.
A few days later, I decided to go to the gym with Barb again. But first, I went to dinner with Carla. Carla was in the mood for French Onion Soup, but what they served was just terrible, so she sent the food back to the kitchen, we had a soda, and then it was time to leave for the gym. Jogging to the car, I realized that with every step, I was saying a number in my head: “34-36-2, 34-36-2, 34-36-2, 34-36-2, etc.” I remember half-consciously wondering why there were numbers flitting through my mind, and I remember almost letting them go. Almost. But as I was getting ready to toss the thoughts out as garbage, I suddenly realized it must be the combination to my old lock, and sure enough it was.
As I write this little story tonight, I wonder what other thoughts are flitting through my mind and getting thrown out instead of being recognized and then dealt with. I wonder if my thoughts would be considered garbage or gold? Rick Warren tells the story of his father’s passing away, and in his delirium, his uppermost thoughts coming out of his mouth – “One more for Jesus, one more for Jesus, one more for Jesus, [etc.]”.
Tonight I pray for a transformed heart, a heart that seeks the will of God, a heart that opens up to God, a heart that cares more for others than itself, a heart that would know and follow its purpose. Lord, help me to take captive that thought and keep it playing in the background of my mind.
Monday, March 20, 2006
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