Percie Finds A Pet

It would seem that Percival has acquired a new companion. Names anyone?

Perspective Is Everything

Perspective is everything. How different would my life be if I could see its trajectory from the outside?

I’m humbled by Jesus’ response to those who didn’t have His perspective. He was the Messiah, the one He claimed to be, the one they were waiting for. So why didn’t they see it? Why was it hidden from them? Jesus said they had ears but couldn’t hear, eyes but couldn’t see. The more I read how the religious leaders responded to Jesus’ authority the more convinced I become that there was no way He could have measured up to their Messianic expectations. Their perspective had become so ingrown and fractured that no one would ever meet the qualifications. Their system of religion was set up to disqualify the truth.

As Pilate said, “What is truth?” Indeed, what is truth? Their perspective had been so warped and clouded that when truth stood right in front of them, they couldn’t accept it. They were so blind that it didn’t even register as a blip on their soul’s radar.

Perspective.

So as Jesus hung on the cross, they mocked:

The crowd watched and the leaders scoffed. “He saved others,” they said, “let him save himself if he is really God’s Messiah, the Chosen One.” The soldiers mocked him, too, by offering him a drink of sour wine. They called out to him, “If you are the King of the Jews, save yourself!” Luke 23:34-37 (NLT)

You are who you say you are? Prove it. Prove it to me, in the way that I demand you prove it. Fit your truth into my way of believing, my way of thinking, my way of living. Convince my inconvincible soul that you came to save it.

Perspective.

If Jesus had capitulated to their mocking demands would they have been convinced?

Perspective

The more life I live the more I see that we reject truth that causes change in our lives until we have no other choice. Until I experience that I am lost, I cannot be found.

Perspective.

Jesus was, in fact, saving Himself. By being obedient to the Father’s will, He was saving everything. Jesus knew His Father. He knew salvation was at hand. For You will not leave my soul among the dead or allow Your holy one to rot in the grave. Psa 16:10 The outcome was never in doubt.

Perspective.

Salvation at the point of completion, being mocked, “Save yourself”, the irony is tangible.

Heavier still is the realization that there are parts of my unrepentant heart that mock its Creator. You saved others, why can’t you save me? Do what my perspective demands that You need to do. Fit Your truth into my way of living, my way of understanding.

Perspective.

Without the Holy Spirit’s intervention, I cannot see the truth.

Perspective.

Jesus, let me see from Yours.

Jesus Follows His Own Examples.

One of the wounds I’ve carried into adulthood is the fear that the sin I wrestle with will disqualify me from being in relationship with Jesus. I read His words:

But when the king came in to meet the guests, he noticed a man who wasn't wearing the proper clothes for a wedding. 'Friend,' he asked, 'how is it that you are here without wedding clothes?' But the man had no reply. Then the king said to his aides, 'Bind his hands and feet and throw him into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.' "For many are called, but few are chosen." (Matthew 22:11-14)

I wonder, am I the one who isn’t wearing proper clothes? My personal struggle with sin usually leaves me feeling this way. My heart cries why can’t I seem to get a handle on this stuff?

I take comfort in Paul’s words, I have discovered this principle of life—that when I want to do what is right, I inevitably do what is wrong. (Romans 7:21). If Paul struggled with “getting it right” how much more will I? But the fear persists. It’s a deep-seated lie that there exists a "one step too far" and that someday I will take it. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, you’ve just ruined everything”. 

That may be a bit dramatic, but my deep seated fears tend to be that way.

In His mercy, Jesus continually shows me the example I am to follow. Peter asked how often he should forgive his offending brother. Jesus’ response in essence was “every time he asks”. That’s the example I am to follow. If my brother sins against me and asks for forgiveness, I am to forgive, freely and without reservation. This beautiful truth speaks deeply into my fear. 

Jesus follows His own examples. 

If I, by Jesus’ example, am to forgive my brother freely and without reservation, how perfectly will Jesus forgive me, freely and without reservation, when I ask?

How often?

Seventy times seven times eternity.

So what keeps me from walking in the beauty and freedom of this truth? 

In His Image

Keeping my eyes on Jesus, the originator and perfecter of my faith.

What's in a name?

Still looking for a proper name.

The Like Button

Do I know you? Or do I know about you?

Have I clicked the like button? Or have I engaged in intimate conversation?

Can I recite the rules? Or have I experienced a life of change?

Am I a fan? Or a brother?

One of the hallmarks of a full on, complete follower of Jesus, is the desire to know Him intimately. If we can’t identify where Jesus has intersected our life experience, then we are deluding ourselves in believing we have an actual, real, living relationship with Him. Much of what we call relationship with Jesus is really fandom. We have become Jesus fans. We’ve clicked the “like” button. But we know very little of experiencing Jesus in the reality of our lives.

Perhaps we’ve download the faith app. Expending the effort to learn His likes and dislikes, attempting to find out what He’s all about and how He wants people to live. Unfortunately it’s possible to know about Jesus, even attempt to live the way He taught us to live and still have no real connection with Him. Are we just a fan, following a celebrity we have never really met? Do we talk about Him, but never experience the reality of interacting with him?

Jesus called me a brother, the Father called me a son, have I lived in the experience of this truth?

Walking Around Naked

In the year when King Sargon of Assyria sent his commander in chief to capture the Philistine city of Ashdod, the Lord told Isaiah son of Amoz, “Take off the burlap you have been wearing, and remove your sandals.” Isaiah did as he was told and walked around naked and barefoot.

Then the Lord said, “My servant Isaiah has been walking around naked and barefoot for the last three years. This is a sign—a symbol of the terrible troubles I will bring upon Egypt and Ethiopia. For the king of Assyria will take away the Egyptians and Ethiopians as prisoners. He will make them walk naked and barefoot, both young and old, their buttocks bared, to the shame of Egypt. Then the Philistines will be thrown into panic, for they counted on the power of Ethiopia and boasted of their allies in Egypt! They will say, ‘If this can happen to Egypt, what chance do we have? We were counting on Egypt to protect us from the king of Assyria.’”   Isaiah 20

So what’s the deal with Isaiah having to walk around naked? Did he really live life buttocks bared for three years? Was this a symbolic “nakedness” or was it really a man walking around sans clothing.

Either way, symbolic or real, it spins me trying to imagine having to live in the vulnerability and shame of what God called him to do.

So how do you live day to day when God, trying to make a point, asks you to be naked? Do you have coffee with people? Do you do dinner at the neighbors? Do you attend the family picnic? How do you interact in your circle of relationships? How do you meet new people?

I’m pretty sure if God asked me to live the next three years with my butt bared, there would be people, myself included, who would ask, “Are you sure? Are you sure God told you to do that?” I’m sure the phrase, “that can’t be God”, would be uttered a few times.

And that is what really spins me. I make the assumption that God would never ask me to do something as odd, or embarrassing as what He asked Isaiah to do. I’m afraid that my ability to hear God’s call closely correlates with how uncomfortable it makes me. The higher the level of unease, the less I can hear.

So I’m asking the question, “Abba, what am I missing for the sake of my own comfort? Open my eyes to where my presuppositions of You keep me from actually hearing your voice.