Category: Faith Ponderings

Foolish Judges, judged by fools

True wisdom is hearing both sides of the same story and then making a judgment. Foolishness is only hearing half of the story, judging each party and then blaming others when their poor discernment leads to incorrect conclusions.

Not sure about you…but I don’t want to be a fool let a lone foolish. I’m not a fan of fickle people, or a fan of people who have judged others based on “what they know” when what they know is often times not much or not even half of the truth.

Don’t waste your time on foolish people. They aren’t worth your time or effort to impress them…at the heart of the matter, they’re not happy people anyway.

We reap what we sow…how about sowing seeds worth sowing…instead of weeds.

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I hear your whisper on the breeze

tree fog

 

Some people will go

unnoticed

Into the veil

No condolences

Not a whisper

Just mere footprints

of their passing

Some people will leave

with nothing to remember

Them by

No postcards

Nor photographs

All but faint

Etchings in some

Solitary tree in a potter’s field

“I was here”

Their memories

Vapor on the breeze

Heading east

We catch fragments

Along the way

Mere wisps

Of conversations

The stage is bare

Floors creaking with age

In this maudlin

Production

None but God will see

Ah but perhaps

An audience of One

Perhaps Creator

Casting love down

Like roses at an encore

Perhaps this is enough

As we can no more

Pull back the veil

Of the one

Than we can for

Ourselves.

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The Judas Problem

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Jesus had just dropped a bomb shell on his disciples…well all but one.  Someone in this very room would betray Him.  Just minutes before this shocking revelation the ambiance in the room had bathed everyone in euphoric celebratory mood, but now no longer.  One moment the meal was satisfying and filling the next the bitter taste of bile and anger shattered all hope of joy and mirth.  “How can this be?”; they must have wondered.  Still others probably looked from one face to the next considering who it might be.  Could this be true?  Why would someone betray the Lord, let alone a disciple?  As each heart sunk , one in particular panicked   Judas, must have thought to himself, “well I’ve been found out, surely Jesus is going to reveal who it is and I will have to make a run for it”.  Afterall, though Judas loved money, he hadn’t really done it for the money.  Jesus was taking a long time in declaring himself Messiah, in Judas’ eyes he needed a little push and then all the chips would fall into place.  The people would then see that there was hope of revolution in Israel and freedom from Roman oppression.  At least that’s what Judas hoped would take place once Jesus’ secret was revealed.  But was it really a secret?  Hadn’t Jesus revealed who he was countless times through miracles and even through his own words?  Yet Judas was convinced that this time things would become crystal clear for those in Jerusalem.  Preparing his heart for this ‘betrayal’ was no easy feat, yet in his eyes it had to be done.  What was a little sacrifice for freedom or for being the one to reveal Messiah to the masses?

As Judas got up from the table, he couldn’t quite force himself to look his Teacher in the eyes.  A passing glance as he left the room revealed to Judas that there was disappointment on Jesus’ face.  As Judas then made his way out of the home that they were dining he must have told himself over and over again that he was doing the ‘right’ thing .  With this twisted conviction in his mind, he went and sought out the teachers of the law who would promise payment upon delivery.

Judas, at first must have thought that he could control the outcome, make a scene after Jesus’ arrest and force Jesus to declare himself King with His power as Messiah.  Afterall Judas had witnessed that power over a stormy sea and had seen many people healed with mere words from Jesus or a single touch.  Taking power and assuming His rightful place as King of Israel wouldn’t be that difficult.  All Judas had to do was force his hand…and force he did, but the outcome left Judas distraught and utterly demoralized.  Things had not gone according to plan.  He had assumed that they would hold a trial in public during the day, but that very night an illegal trial had taken place.  Judas also assumed that Jesus would defend his claim with power and might, but seemingly like a sheep to the slaughter Jesus was silent at first and even meek when He finally responded to their questions of His lineage as Son of God.  Again he knew he had made the wrong choice when the crowd, prompted by the Pharisees cried out for Barnabas rather than see an innocent man released.  Judas knew his plan had failed, and this very large gamble was going to leave him broke.  When Jesus was sentenced to death, Judas lost all hope of any kind of reprieve from this awful decision of betrayal.  Those thirty pieces of silver in his pouch seemed to weigh heavily on his conscience and in his coat pocket.  They almost seemed to cry out into his ear “this is how much your teacher’s life was worth to you?”

As bitterness and regret took the place of schemeing and plotting, Judas was left with nothing but emptiness inside his heart.  Nothing had gone according to plan and now having to face the consequences of his choice, Judas hated what he had become.  Standing in the light of his own guilt and shame Judas felt as if there was nothing left to live for.  All hope was gone.  Judas took out the thirty pieces of silver, blood money that he had been given for his part in the betrayal and threw it in the temple.  Feeling empty, broken and alone compiled with the remorse that he felt – there was no hope of salvation anymore for him – or so he thought.  He would end it…and end it he did by hanging himself.

Such a Shakespearean tale wrought with love, plotting, betrayal and an ending that leaves you wondering what might have been?
Yet we know often that perhaps there are still moments in our lives when we have betrayed Jesus.  When we have held our thirty pieces of silver in our hands and tossed a kiss Jesus’ way.  We might want to quickly condemn Judas for his actions, and rightly so, but we’ve all been Judas one time or another.  The only difference that I hope we can declare here is that we have been redeemed, that we yet have hope and that our lives are no longer cold and empty.  Though we can identify with our shortcomings in our faith and with our relationship to Jesus, He still comes back to us and says I love you…do you love me?   May our response to Jesus be one of love and victory because we were once lost but now Jesus has found us again.  That, my friends is an Amazing grace!
Happy Easter to you all!

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birthday gifts and yellowed pages

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I received a book

today

this my birthday

From a forgotten poet

He wasn’t famous,

 nor well known

the pages are yellowed

with age

 old and dusty

it smells like

mildew, library shelves

And wood varnish  

these pages

life is poured out

essence of heart

Etched with grace

Like sunrises on

Bright blue mornings

Crisp in spring time breezes

It was said also

Samuel Clemens

Was born with the rise

Of Haley’s comet

And passed it again

At the closing

Such a final chapter

Isn’t in this book

But only spoken

In whisper

Too loudly

Like creaking pews

In church

I wished I could have

Met them both

Yet still might

They be heard

If one listens hard

Enough

On waning breezes

And in the scent

Mildew, library shelves

And wood varnish

Thank you

For unread

chapters.

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God Breathed…and something about books…

Old Book

Do you have a favorite book?   There are some stories that once we’ve read stick with us in our hearts and minds forever.  Some favorite books sit on bookshelves, barely collecting dust, begging to be re-read simply because these tales evoke in us hope, adventure and a plethora of other emotions.   Sometimes re-reading a book provides comfort or reassurance in difficult times, while others provide joy deep within the very fabric of who we are.   In my bookshelf are a number of these such books, one in particular is so worn out from use that the hardcover binding finally gave way one day and I reluctantly grabbed a roll of duct tape and re-bound the cover to the contents therein.   Yes, it was a desperate attempt to save something that I treasure, one might ask, “why didn’t you just repurchase the book and lay the old one to rest?”  The answer is simple, this is my book, I have held it in my hands on countless evening, perched on various couches and chairs and poured over every word, phrase and punctuation mark.  There are stains on the cover, pages with dog-ears and, though I am ashamed to admit it, fingerprint smudges on words because a good book requires the occasional good snack to accompany it.

Within the pages of this very well worn, tattered book, is a story that calls to the child in me every time I pick it up.  As I read from its pages, this child, with big eyes of surprise and bewilderment, reconnects with the adventure  and I am once again transported back into a land far away with characters that I have grown to love as if they actually live and breathe.

 

Isn’t it amazing that there is such power with words on pages in a book?  It has been said that the pen is mightier than the sword, and I would emphatically and wholeheartedly agree!  Writers throughout the ages have written powerful things upon pages.  For some, these writings brought worldwide success and their books became classics, highly touted as ‘ahead of their time’ or an ‘inspiration for all ages’.   Still there are other writers have written books and documents in times of great darkness, and their convictions upon pages stirred their generation into revolution and war.   Some writers faced prison sentences, work camps, while others were executed for their beliefs.   Yes, there is great power in words!

 

John 1:1-2 (NKJV) 
1 In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.
2 He was in the beginning with God.

 

The greatest book ever written is a collection of smaller books written by numerous authors.   But its one centralized theme is captured through the love of God for His creation – human kind, and His desire for us to be reconciled to Him again through the once for all sacrifice of His son Jesus Christ.  This book is called the Bible…and though written thousands of years ago, it still has the capacity to transform lives, restore broken hearts, and heal the spiritually sick.  The word of God, as described in the gospel of John, has been around since the very beginning of time.  God spoke the heavens and the earth into being merely by using words. When people refer to the Bible, they often call it God-breathed, implying that God’s hand has inspired and directed its writers to create these holy texts (emphasis on create).  Truly the pen is mightier than the sword, but who created the pen?  God has not only spoken us and everything around us into being through words, but we, as His creation have been given that inspiration to create just as He is our creator.  Is it no wonder then that such great masterpieces of art, literature, and science still abound in our world today? After all we are made in God’s image and His attributes, though marred in us, still shine through in inspiration and in creativity.  There are some whose creativity just oozes out of every pore…everything they touch just seems to produce quality art or literature.   While in most of us that creativity drips slowly like a faucet in need of a new washer; we will have moments of frustrating blank pages and canvas’, uninspired failures which threaten to force our hands to reach for the white flag of surrender.   Yet, when those moments of inspiration do come, may we unequivocally submerge ourselves into that frightening current of creativity that is God breathed!   When we do so, we take a leap of faith, we take a risk, and though we cannot foresee the outcome we step boldly into the fray.  Why? Why would we do something reckless and unsafe?  It is because God, in all of His glory will not leave us or forsake us, and when we collect our courage and reaffirm this truth, we find ourselves daring to risk more for Him.

 

Isn’t it funny though, how often times we are so excited to pick up our favorite book from our bookshelf and read it with reckless abandon and yet we fail to pick up the very Word of God?  Sometimes, if we were honest with ourselves our excuses would sound like this; “I know all the stories and all the teachings in the Bible, why should I read it anymore except on Sundays?”  What we’re saying is God’s inspiration is limited to what I already know about Him…as if we have figured out all there is to know about God and the Bible.  Other excuses we’ve used from time to time might range from, “It’s just so boring” to “I don’t get it”.   But those were not the words of Brother Yun, a new convert to Christianity in communist China!  He lived in a place where owning a Bible could get you and your whole family beaten and even sent to prison.  The Word of God was prohibited in his country and yet that didn’t stop him from risking much in prayer and fasting in order to receive a copy of the Bible.  His story is miraculous and wondrous, and should inspire us all to possess even a small portion of this man’s faith.  Here is a brief excerpt of his how Brother Yun miraculously received his Bible:

 

“The old pastor simply told me, “The Bible is a heavenly book.   If you want one, you’ll need to pray to the God of heaven…When I returned home I brought a stone into my room and knelt down on it every evening for prayer.  I had just one simple prayer: “Lord please give me a Bible.  Amen.” At that time I didn’t know how to pray, but I continued for more than one month.  Nothing happened.  A Bible didn’t appear.  I went back to that pastor’s house again.   This time I went alone.  I told him, “I’ve prayed to God according to your instructions, but I still haven’t received the Bible I want so much.  Please, please show me your Bible.  Just a glance and I will be satisfied!  I don’t need to touch it.  You hold it and I will be content just to look at it.  If I could copy down some of the words I will return home happy.”  …(Later)…In the vision the old man took a red bag of bread from his trolley and asked his two servants to give it to me.  He said, “You must eat it immediately.”  I opened the wrapping, and say there was a bun of fresh bread inside.  When I put the bun in my mouth, it instantly turned into a Bible!  Immediately, in my vision, I knelt down with my Bible and cried out to the Lord in thanksgiving, “Lord, your name is worthy to be praised!  You didn’t despise my prayer.  You allowed me to receive this Bible.  I want to serve you for the rest of my life.” I woke up and started searching the house for the Bible. …Suddenly I heard a faint knock at the door.  A very gentle voice called my name.  I rushed over and asked through the locked door, “Are you bringing the bread to me?”  The gentle voice replied, “Yes, we have a bread feast to give you.”  I immediately recognized the voice as the same one I had heard in the vision.  I quickly opened the door and there standing before me were the same two servants I had seen in the vision. ..My heart raced as I opened the bag and held in my hands my very own Bible!” (The Heavenly Man, p. 27-30)

 

Perhaps it’s humbling to read of this experience.  When reading it for the first time, it brought me to tears. At the same time it made me ashamed of how I had treated my Bible.  It isn’t illegal to own one in my country yet these comforts all around me sometimes negate, in my own mind, the need for daily spiritual nourishment.  Why do I doubt at times?  Why can’t I pick up the Word of God like I do with my well-worn, duct taped favorite book?  Why wasn’t I pouring through its pages, like I did with other books on my shelf? My passion had waned, and I found myself in need of that God-breathed inspiration once again in my heart.

 

So here I am, I’ve dusted off my personal study Bible, still ashamed yet I bare my Masters Image in my broken state.  Breathe on me breathe of God…fill me with life anew.

 

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At 3:57AM

At 3:57 in the morning
I check and recheck
My red glowing alarm
Clock
I should be asleep
Running through
Dreams in my head
Fluttering eye kids
Like the flapping of
Wings
It’s 3:57am
Sleep has once
Again escaped
By window
Or by back door
I’m not sure
But I am not
Alone in the early
Hours before down
Below,
Just outside my
Bedroom window
A lonely snow plow
Is pushing up mounds
Of freshly fallen snow
There goes my driveway
Oh well….but as I lie
Here with eyes wide open
And ears alert to the ongoings
Outside
I believe that as this heart
Thumps to the rhythm of
The passing plow
We connect at some level
He and I
Both comrades before
The dawn
At 3:57 this one time
Chance encounter
Will go unnoticed by the plow
Though for me
And my sideways glances
At the crimson glow
I am content
To just lie here
For but a little while
Longer…

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IF (Rudyard Kipling)

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too:
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;
If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim,
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same:.
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build’em up with worn-out tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings,
And never breathe a word about your loss:
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: “Hold on!”

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much:
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son! 

Rudyard Kipling
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A Saint About To Fall

A saint about to fall,
The stained flats of heaven hit and razed
To the kissed kite hems of his shawl,
On the last street wave praised
The unwinding, song by rock,
Of the woven wall
Of his father’s house in the sands,
The vanishing of the musical ship-work and the chucked bells,
The wound-down cough of the blood-counting clock
Behind a face of hands,
On the angelic etna of the last whirring featherlands,
Wind-heeled foot in the hole of a fireball,
Hymned his shrivelling flock,
On the last rick’s tip by spilled wine-wells
Sang heaven hungry and the quick
Cut Christbread spitting vinegar and all
The mazes of his praise and envious tongue were worked in flames and shells.

Glory cracked like a flea.
The sun-leaved holy candlewoods
Drivelled down to one singeing tree
With a stub of black buds,
The sweet, fish-gilled boats bringing blood
Lurched through a scuttled sea
With a hold of leeches and straws,
Heaven fell with his fall and one crocked bell beat the left air.
O wake in me in my house in the mud
Of the crotch of the squawking shores,
Flicked from the carbolic city puzzle in a bed of sores
The scudding base of the familiar sky,
The lofty roots of the clouds.
From an odd room in a split house stare,
Milk in your mouth, at the sour floods
That bury the sweet street slowly, see
The skull of the earth is barbed with a war of burning brains and hair.

Strike in the time-bomb town,
Raise the live rafters of the eardrum,
Throw your fear a parcel of stone
Through the dark asylum,
Lapped among herods wail
As their blade marches in
That the eyes are already murdered,
The stocked heart is forced, and agony has another mouth to feed.
O wake to see, after a noble fall,
The old mud hatch again, the horrid
Woe drip from the dishrag hands and the pressed sponge of the forehead,
The breath draw back like a bolt through white oil
And a stranger enter like iron.
Cry joy that hits witchlike midwife second
Bullies into rough seas you so gentle
And makes with a flick of the thumb and sun
A thundering bullring of your silent and girl-circled island. 

Dylan Thomas
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Discipleship – Love, Trust, Christ-likeness

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Many Christians consider discipleship to be only something the disciples of Jesus went through to become apostles.  Others consider discipleship to be something only pastors have to go through.  Before we look at what discipleship is, let’s look at what discipleship is not.

Discipleship is not another program.

Discipleship is not simply a workbook to complete.

Discipleship is not about ego or title.

Discipleship is not about boosting membership numbers.

If any of those areas become the focal point of discipleship then the point of true discipleship has been misplaced.  I don’t presume to have all of the answers here, but we cannot simply treat this important element of the Christian faith lightly or as just another component to what we’re already doing.  I cannot stress it enough but Discipleship in your church is NOT just another program or a stat line in a monthly report!  Discipleship is and should be the life blood of spiritual maturation and biblical/doctrinal understanding.  It’s not catechism, or indoctrination, please don’t misunderstand what is being said here, Discipleship is mentoring others in the very foot prints of Christ.

I remember my youngest son, Ethan, watching me in the bathroom one morning as I shaved in front of the mirror.  Earlier in the year he had received a toy shaving kit which included a plastic faux razor.  As I made my shaving stroke up my neck, I glanced over and Ethan was copying me.  I shaved my chin and again Ethan mimicked my motion with his little plastic razor.  Every movement I made while shaving, he copied me and we both laughed but I will never forget my son wanting to shave just like his daddy.

In a very real sense we too are to copy the movements and emulate the behavior of Christ, who is our heavenly example of godly living here on earth.  Holiness is the primary purpose, but discipleship is the conduit by which holiness happens practically.  How did the Jesus’ disciples learn and grow in their faith?  They did so by watching the actions and teachings of Christ while learning at His feet.  When Jesus called his first disciples he said, “Come follow me!”  And the Bible says they left their nets and followed him (Mark 1:17).  His command was the command of a Rabbi, a teacher who said to these men you can be like me, you will be my disciples.

How does that match up with how the present day Church is leading people into forms of mentoring and discipleship?  Perhaps there are some wonderful examples of mentoring and discipling going on out there but by and large many churches fall short in this aspect of ministry.  Where does a new Christian go after becoming saved?  Do they just get put into a Sunday school or to warm a pew for the next twenty years or more?   When people get up from the alter and profess Christ in their lives and want to learn and live it we as more mature Christians ought to come alongside them and help cultivate a healthy long term relationship with Christ.  We as elders of churches ought to become their example of godly living so that they too will emulate and reflect Christ in their lives.

Discipleship is also about trust.  Have you ever been thrust into a mentoring program and been told this is your mentor?  Don’t get me wrong, some wonderful stories and testimonies might come from these times, but by and large discipleship cannot be forced upon people who are unwilling.  Also discipleship is a two way street.  Without a developed comradely, understanding and relational side, the mentor to the mentee relationship is just an obligation and not a longing.  When we look at scriptures we find disciples of Jesus loving him, wanting to be like him.  Sure they made lots of mistakes…LOTS of mistakes!  But there was trust within that relationship, a relationship that changed lives not mandated and dictated terms of submission.  True discipleship requires time, love, patience and trust.  Without an invested caring, reciprocated relationship, discipleship can and will only go so far.   Because if the truth is spoken in love, and yet love isn’t present, why should the one being discipled comply and change?

How have you been discipled?  Was it just some program you had to attend?  Don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing wrong with programs, but discipleship and discipleship training is not JUST a program!  The disciples of Jesus spent many many hours with their discipler, with their Rabbi.  They ate together, they laughed together, there was fellowship, there was trust and genuine love sparked change…not edicts or mandates, but love.   Who do you want to emulate today?   Who can you ask to come along side you so that you can become more and more like Christ?  We cannot do this Christian thing alone, we need help, we need mentors in our lives!

A song that says it all for me is “To be like Jesus” .  The lyrics speak for themselves:

“To be like Jesus! 

This hope possesses me,

in every though and deed,

this is my aim, my creed;

To be like Jesus! 

This hope possesses me,

His Spirit helping me, Like Him I’ll be”

Our goal, our mission : To be like Jesus

Our objective: To find Christian Elders who can challenge us, whom we can trust, and who will hold us accountable in love.

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A Sloop, A Squall, A Savior

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The Rabbi finishes his teaching and instructs his followers to get into the boat and head out into the lake.  He settles himself down into the creaking bow as the sounds of the water lapping and splashing become his lullaby.  He is exhausted from human contact and needs to rest for just a little while.  With his eyes closed and his breathing a rhythmic tune for the sandman, his disciples chatter about the day.  What did Jesus mean about the mustard seed?  Were they to go out and gather this seed to become great leaders of faith like him?  Their conversation continued while a couple of the disciples cast out nets to bide their time in the dusk of the day.  Their learned profession casting nets into the waters would inevitably feed them tonight.   

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Out of the East a rumble is heard.  The wary fishermen are all too familiar with the temperamental shifting of the wind and the rising swells that sometimes swoop down onto the lake.  They become nervous.  The small sloop isn’t even halfway across and soon this storm will overtake them.   Another rumble echoes off of the wooden mast and continues to roll out into the horizon, this time accompanied by a bright flash of lightening as the pressure of the air changes around them.  This is going to be a big storm, and they have nowhere safe to go, they are vulnerable.  The wind suddenly picks up and the idle chatter of conversation is carried out past them as the howl of this squall begins.   Jesus is still asleep. 

 

Simon Peter looks over at his brother Andrew and they exchange a momentary glance of concern.  The wind starts to increase the chop of the waves and soon enough the boat is hurtling forward on a rollercoaster that has everyone’s stomach in their throats.  First up a tall breaking wave and then down into the depths only to repeat again over and over.  The rain begins to pelt them with larges droplets and soon they are drenched from head to toe and the bottom of the boat looks more like a big bucket of water.  Still Jesus is asleep.  How much more can this little boat handle?  They begin to wonder this as another strong gust has them bracing for another crashing wave over the bow.  Concern gives way to fear, fear gives way to dread.  This could be their last night and that realization is evident on each of their faces.  Finally, after another crash of lightening that strikes too close to them and a roar of thunder that is felt in their chests they seek the only source of hope that they have left; Jesus.   He is still asleep, the day had been long and he was very weary from travel.  One of the disciples places firm hands on Jesus’ shoulders and shakes him awake.   “Help us Teacher, can’t you see that we are about to die!”  Jesus looks up into his disciples’ face and sees sheer panic and terror as the swell screams and tears through the boat and crashing waves. 

 

Jesus takes off the now soaking cloak from his body and makes his way to the prow of the boat.  He stands up boldly before the storm as all of the disciples are behind him huddled together quaking in fear.  He raises his hands as if he wants or dares the storm to strike him.  Then in a loud voice he yells out into the squall.  “STOP, BE STILL!”  The disciples witness something astounding.  It doesn’t happen incrementally, or taper away like a receding storm, but all at once everything becomes calm.  Everything!  The waves cease their rising and crashing.  The wind that threatened to blow them away simply went away.   The roll of thunder and crash of lightening suddenly disappears as if the storm has decided to go elsewhere.  All is calm. 

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The disciples look up at their teacher, amazed.  Jesus stands there before them says to them; “Why are you so afraid?  Do you still have no faith?”     Then something clicks within them, and they are terrified.  Who is Jesus?  Did that just happen?  So many questions run through their minds.  But the evidence is right before them; Jesus has just stopped a storm with His words.   The air that was once filled with pressure from the storm is now filled with rebuke of the disciples’ lack of faith.  “Do you still have no faith?”  These words will echo in them for some time.  It will remind them and spur them on for years.   Their Rabbi, God’s one and only son, has shown them what faith can do.  The disciples will never forget this moment.  It will be forever engrained in them, forever a living example of God’s power that is alive and active in the world.   Perhaps, just perhaps Christ’s words rings even truer when He said, “I tell you the truth, anyone who has faith in me will do what I have been doing.  He will do even greater things than these, because I am going to the Father.  And I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that the Son may bring glory to the Father. “ (John 14:12,13)

 

I’m not sure about you, but I can identify with the disciples!  I too have doubts.  I too struggle with a waning faith from time to time.  Sometimes the storms that invade my life seem to crash over me and threaten to capsize all that I am and possess.  Many times I respond to Jesus just like the disciples when crisis comes my way, “Help me Jesus, can’t you see that I am about to die!”  But the Son of God, the same Jesus who calmed that storm so long again with mere words still speaks to the storms in my life today!  He speaks to your storms as well!  How’s your faith?  In whom is your faith today?  Perhaps, if it’s not in Jesus, the storm calmer, life giver, Messiah; you could be sinking and afraid.  Cry out to Him, have faith in Him and He will be there to help you in your tempests and your storms.  “Peace, be still!” 

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