Showing posts with label Personal. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Personal. Show all posts

Tuesday, June 2, 2009

Night Light Reading

If you're in need of a good read-a-short-chapter-once-a-day-before-I-doze-off-to-sleep book, you've come to the right place. I have read this book three times, and it truly is a great read. It was originally published in 2004 as "The Passion of Jesus Christ", it was then re-published in 2006 under the title, "50 Reasons Why Jesus Came to Die". This book by John Piper is intellectually/spiritually stimulating regardless of how long you've been a Christian (or even if Christ means nothing to you).

Every chapter presents a reason why Christ came to die (...to absorb the wrath of God; ...to secure our resurrection from the dead; ...to show that the worst evil is meant by God for good), is only two pages long, and includes one or more scripture passages followed by an insightful commentary.

Here is an excerpt from chapter 28 entitled, "Christ suffered and died...to free us from the futility of our ancestry."

~~~
"You were ransomed from the futile ways inherited form your forefathers, not with perishable things such as silver or gold, but with the precious blood of Christ, like that of a lamb without blemish or spot."
I Peter 1:18-19


Secular people in the West, and more primitive people in animistic tribes, have this in common: They believe in the power of ancestral bondage. They call it by different names. Animistic people may speak in terms of ancestral spirits and the transmission of curses. Secular people may speak of genetic influence or the wounding of abusive, codependent, emotionally distant parents. In both cases there is a sense of fatalism that we are bound to live with the curse or the wounds from our ancestry. The future seems futile and void of happiness....
~~~

Monday, May 11, 2009

The Standard in All things Human

If I had to pick one thing that bothers me about Christians/the Church/Christendom today, it's our lack of drive to be the absolute best. We ought to strive for nothing less than excellence in all of our endeavours. We are a reflection of the God we serve, and looking around at God's reflectors here in America, God seems pretty, well, lousy.

Jesus asks us to function as lights to society, so that they can "see our good deeds and give honor to our Father in heaven." Furthermore, in I Corinthians Paul said that we should do everything for God's glory.

If God is really so great (not to mention real) why aren't His followers great? Why aren't we producing the most talented music, running the most successful businesses, building the most efficient houses, writing the most brilliant books, developing the most advanced technology, and altogether running circles around the competition?

To make matters worse, we hypocritically condemn the "secular" pursuits of the world, only to capitalize on their developments. We use cell phones, drive cars, shop at stores, watch TV, take medication, live in houses, and enjoy other such "worldly" creations. Basically, we mooch off of society's advancements, all the while touting an I-only-pursue-God-and-I-don't-waste-my-time-on-temporary-pleasures-because-I-am-so-spiritual attitude.

We tell ourselves that anything other than Bible study and prayer is somehow un-spiritual, and so we don't pursue our interests with excellence (i.e. we aren't good "contributors to society"). If it's worth doing, it's worth doing well. If you think it would be a waste of time to perform something you do with anything short of excellence, you are wasting your time. God has given us dominion over this world, and has asked us to bring honor and glory to His reputation. We are supposed to be making God famous. People should watch what we do, and see the glory of God. God has saved us from an old life of bondage to sin, and brought us into a new life of bondage to Him. We have been brought from death to life. We should want to please God, by doing our absolute best for Him. Anything else damages the reputation of God.

The problem comes when I look in the mirror. Am I an excellent writer? researcher? assistant manager? citizen? church member? husband? Do I contribute something worthwhile to others, or just leach off of other's accomplishments?

Truth is, I'm a pretty mediocre guy. Maybe the problem isn't other Christians. Maybe the problem is me.

Monday, March 9, 2009

Endurance

While reading in Proverbs (my default devotions if I don't do my regular Bible reading), I came across a particularly challenging verse.

Proverbs 24:10 says,

"If you faint in the day of trouble, your strength is small."

I think I would have expected the ending of that verse to read a bit differently. I might have expected it to say something like, "If you faint in the day of trouble, your strength is average." or, "...it wasn't your fault." or, "...it happens to the best of us."

Really? If I fail during adversity, then I am weak? Let me throw this into a slightly different context, and then end with a challenge.

I remember during one chapel at Xenia Christian High School, one of my teachers, Mr. Holloway gave an illustration using a Styrofoam cup and some water. Mr. Holloway filled the cup to the top with water, and then gave the cup to a student. He instructed the student to hold the cup out at an arms length, and then he suddenly bumped the students arm, forcing the water to spill out. He then asked the student, "Why did water come out of the cup?" The student replied, "Because you bumped my arm." Mr. Holloway informed the student that this was the wrong answer, and the student offered several other guesses, none of which satisfied him. He finally gave the student a clue and asked, "Why didn't coffee, or tea, or something else come out of the cup?" The student replied, "Because there was water in the cup." "Exactly!" my teacher shouted. He went on to explain that what came out of the cup when it was under stress (bumped) was merely a reflection of what was inside. Water wasn't suddenly created, simply because the Styrofoam cup was bumped.

This is true for us as well. When we face "trouble", how we respond is a reflection of who we really are on the inside. Our bad attitudes, clouded thinking, and flippant speech aren't caused by poor situations, they are exposed by them.

So, if I faint in the day of adversity, it is a reflection that my strength wasn't that strong after all. Pretty humbling. Each day we are in a battle. Is your strength small?


"Finally, be strengthened in the Lord and in the strength of his power. Clothe yourselves with the full armor of God so that you may be able to stand against the schemes of the devil." Ephesians 6:10

Friday, March 6, 2009

Sweet Dreams

I had this bizarre (is there any other kind?) dream last night. I usually don't remember my dreams, and the ones I do remember, aren't all that interesting. This dream was different. For some reason, I couldn't get it out of my mind while I was driving to work today. It's strange how dreams work, sorting and sifting our life while we sleep. This particular dream was the merging of several stories and I'll explain as we go along.

~~~

So there I was, sound asleep, minding my own business, when it hit me like a ton of bricks - a dream. The dream opened with me at an audition for a play. (In High School I was in several plays, and acting was a big part of my life, so it isn't that unusual for me to dream about an audition.) I'm not sure where I was in the dream, probably Ohio. (Usually the location\setting of my dreams default back to my hometown - Xenia, OH.) In the dream, I happened to notice that my parents were in the audience, waiting to watch me audition. (This was a bit odd since family members don't usually come to auditions, especially for a simple High School drama. At this point, you should also know that I've been trying to get a particular job now for several months.)

Right before I was called up on stage, I realized that, for some illogical reason, if I didn't get a part in the play, I wouldn't get the job I'd been hoping for either. Don't ask me how this dream-logic works. All I knew was that I absolutely had to get a part in the play, or it was bye-bye to my budding career. As you can imagine, this caused me a great amount of stress. However, I wasn't too worried because I've auditioned several times, and I know how it works...or so I thought. I went up on stage, was handed a script, and was told that I had to SING my lines! (In the auditions during High School, we were given the scripts in advance so that we could prepare, and we never, ever, had to sing.) When it came time for me to sing, I panicked. I couldn't find my place in the script, I didn't even know what tune I was supposed to sing, and I kept stuttering and stammering as I spoke/sang. I was devastated. I looked out at the crowd, and my parents were so embarrassed that they had quietly exited the building. (I think that this part of the dream stemmed from my need of affirmation from others. I often worry about what other people think about me, nearly to an extreme. When I realized my parents had left the audition, I felt sick.)

After a minute or two of fumbling through the script, the producer (who oddly wasn't the producer I had in High School) told me to "stop wasting my time" and get off the stage. At this point I immediately assumed that Jimmy Whalen was going to get the part instead of me. (Jimmy and I went to High School together, and he always got the lead role in our High School plays. Ironically however, Jimmy and I were, and still are, great friends.) As I took my walk of shame off the stage, I stopped and pleaded with the producer to believe that I had "tried my best".

I was absolutely heart broken. I didn't get the part, and, consequently, I didn't get the job. Once I got home, the director (who, again, was not the director I had in High School) called me and asked, "What happened? Did you just not care about getting the part?" I pleaded with the director to give me a second chance. I explained to him that he should give me the part because I had been in so many plays, and that I had just had a really, really bad day. I was explaining to the director that I had tried as hard as I could, pleading with him to let me have the part when my alarm went off and I had to get up and go to work.
~~~

So that's it. That's about as interesting as my dreams get. I hope that this glimpse into my mind doesn't leave too big of a scar on you. Maybe tonight I'll have a dream that will let me know whether or not I got the part. Oh, don't worry, if I ever dream a sequel, I'll be sure to let you know how it ends.

Friday, January 30, 2009

Focus

A coworker recently asked me, "What is my purpose in life? What if I've missed it? What am I supposed to do?" I tried to answer her (a nominal Christian) as best I could, advising her to live a life of obedience to God for the purpose of bringing Glory to His name. I really don't think I shared anything earth-shattering with her, because I think she already knew the answer, but was still afraid there was something more.

Personally, I sense that desire for something more quite often. There's always that nagging question when you pillow your head at night, "Should I be over there, doing that?" There is a perpetual longing for fulfillment felt by each one of us, which, throughout our lifetime, manifests itself in various forms. Career. Marriage. Children. Hobbies. Academics. Relationships. Money. Entertainment. When these things don't fulfill us like we thought they would, we feel supremely disappointed. We think we should be satisfied, but we're not. And we can't figure out why. Soon, we start looking anywhere and everywhere for purpose and direction - even turning to coworkers!

Several summers ago, while working for Scioto Hills Baptist Camp, I was particularly plagued with these type of "meaning" questions. On August 1st, 2004, I stayed up late into the night with a flashlight, notebook, and Bible determined to gain a greater sense of purpose. Over the next couple of evenings, I developed five purpose statements which I felt encompassed God's plan for my life. Over the past several years I have prayed these purpose statements hundreds of times, and I still pray them almost every day. Again, there is nothing genius or groundbreaking about these statements. The hard part isn't knowing our purpose, but learning to truly be satisfied with God, and God alone.

My Purpose Statements

I desire to...

...Seek God with my heart, that I may develop a Biblical worldview.
(Ps. 1:2; Acts 17:27; Ps. 119:10)
...Study God with my mind, that I may know the truth.
(2 Tim. 2:15; 1 Pet. 2:2; Heb. 5:13-14;)
...Serve God with my will, that I may be obedient to God's Word.
(Rom. 12:1-2; I Cor. 10:31; Josh. 24:15 )
...Show God with my actions, that I may show Christ's love to all.
(Heb. 13:1; John 15:13; Matt. 5:16 )
...Share God with my words, that I may introduce people to Christ.
(Matt. 28:19-20; 2 Cor. 5:19-21)

Friday, January 23, 2009

Transparency

On January 22, 1986, Jose Angel Moreno (only 18 years old at the time) kidnapped and murdered a man. Moreno, now in his 40's, received the death penalty and is currently on death row in Texas. Moreno was originally scheduled for execution in May of 2007, but received a last-minute stay. The following letter was written by Moreno describing the hours leading up to what he thought would be his death.

I have no agenda in posting this letter. I am not trying to argue for or against capital punishment, nor am I trying to argue for or against the existence of God. I simply hope to provide perspective, and provoke thought. It's a bit long, but it is well worth the read.

~~~~~
This letter is to all the friends I left behind on Death Watch: Leonel Rodriguez, Mangy Dogg, Chino Ruiz, K-loc(o), and Gilberto Guadalupe Reyes.

I haven’t been back from death-house two days yet and already you all have found a way to send me a card with all those touching words in it. One would think that I had died over there. But, you know what, fellas? It was real good to hear from you guys.

Maybe I did die over there. The experience was life-changing, even borderline traumatic. The person that left to the Walls Unit on that day is definitely not the same person that came back. You all knew me, who I was, my beliefs (or lack of) and all the crazy things I did. If we could talk, like the many days and nights we did, you all would know for a fact that something happened to Moreno. Since we can’t talk, hence the letter.

OK, imagining that we were all talking again — which is a possibility, especially since I don’t know what kind of “stay” I received or what is happening with my case — all of you would be asking me questions about what it is like at the Walls Unit. So, allow me to assuage your curiosity.
The drive over is less than an hour because I got my stay around 3, and by 4, I was back. When you finally get to the Walls, the transport vehicles are admitted through one gate after another, all the while driving through twists and turns, around huge buildings, like if you’re travelling through a maze. I felt like I was being swallowed by a huge beast. When they finally turn the van off, you are parked right outside the death chamber.

Let me back up a little, because I forgot to tell you what happens here (Polunsky) before you leave. When your final visit is almost up, the warden (Hirsch) comes to pick you up. From that point on, every officer that has any dealings with you is a sergeant or higher, mostly lieutenants and captains. When you come out of the visiting room, there is a lot of freeworld people there. I didn’t recognize any, except the wardens. From there, you are escorted to a cage where you are searched thoroughly...and given all brand-new clothing and cloth shoes. From there (cage at E-pod) I am escorted back to the front for the metal detector machines. But at that time, I notice that not only is the whole building on lock-down, but they have a full response team all suited up, tucked away in one of the small side hallways, just in case the 20-30 ranking officers and civilians can’t handle the situation. After running both metal detectors over your whole body, you are taken out and to the cramped transport van. The last thing Warden Hirsch says to me is, “Thanks for being a man about all this.”

Now, getting back to the death chamber. Once they get you out of the van and walk you the few feet to the holding area right next to the death chamber, they lock the door and repeat the process of removing the leg irons, belts, handcuffs and hog chain. They strip you right there in front of them (no cage necessary because there’s about 12 built or big rank all around you — a major or two, captains, and lieutenants). After they search you and dress you in their brand-new clothing, they allow you to walk over to the finger-printing booth (two sets of prints) and walk to their holding cell. There’s a new mattress, pillow, sheets and pillowcase. All brand-new. Nothing but first-class treatment. Then you are told by the chaplain (Hart, likely) that we wait for Warden O’Reiley (?). It took about 10 minutes for him to arrive for me, and all during this time there is an officer sitting right in front of your cell and several others in the rest of the room. Off to the side there is a table with all sorts of goodies on it. You know those huge 10-gallon containers they bring our juice/tea to the pods? Well, there’s three of them on the table. One with coffee, one tea, and I think one of juice. Then there’s milk cartons chilling on ice and a BIG silver platter with all sorts of sweets on it: cookies, buns, rolls, pastries, etc.

When the warden shows up, I think he is there to gauge how you are going to behave. He starts off by telling you what is going to happen. At 3 o’clock they will let you walk out of your cell and walk to the next cell where you will be behind a screen so you can visit with your spiritual advisor. The spiritual advisor visit lasts about an hour. Then, at 4, they will bring your last meal. He has a copy of your last meal in his hands and he might ask you something about it, like if you have a lot of food on there (like I did). He might ask if you’re really that hungry? Then he tells you that he is going to leave and you won’t see him no more until 6, when he comes to get you. He will say, “It’s time.” At that point, you will walk out of the cell and directly through that door (you can see it from the cell, it’s only about 10-15 feet), that’s the execution chamber. You will then be placed on the gurney and strapped down. Then two medically trained personnel will stand on each side and inject a catheter into each arm. Then he (warden) will stand behind your head and ask you if you have a last statement. He will give you about two minutes but is flexible, depending on what you are saying.
He has two rules: 1) No profanity or cussing, and 2) It must be in English.

Then he tells you that if you get a stay, the chaplain will come inform you. Finally, he asks if you have any questions. It is at this time you are supposed to ask him to use the telephone and smoke cigarettes as per the instructions you will receive from the chaplain the day before. He tells you that the chaplain will provide the cigarettes and that you can call as many people as you want but the person must be in the continental U.S., and all phone calls will stop at 5.

So the warden leaves and I get right on the phone. I get some very sweet tea, a milk, and wait for him to light me a cigarette. The first person I talk to on the phone is my oldest (longest-lasting) friend, Linda. But I wasn’t doing much talking because I was trying to choke down my sobbing. (Sobbing is uncontrollable crying). It was at this point that it all made sense to me and I was more scared than I’ve ever been in my whole life.

Now, let me tell you what made so much sense to me:
Everything I did as a bon voyage, all the letters I wrote, all the parties we had, all the substances I abused and enjoyed at that moment, my special Sho-out show with all my music, my very special visits, my friends on Death Watch, the cigarettes from the chaplain, the treats on that silver platter, my last meal, and even being able to call anyone I want — none of that mattered. I realized that at 5, I had to stop talking on the phone, then in the execution chamber, no one was going to be there with me except some chaplain I didn’t even know (not Lopez or even Vitela). Even if my family could hold me at the moment, I was making this journey by myself. And it wasn’t dying I was so scared of. It was GOD!

Instead of indulging in these materialistic gifts the state of Texas was using to distract me, I should have been on my knees praying. At about 3, the chaplain old me I got a stay, all my privilges immediately got taken away, and I was still reeling from the shock when Michelle Lyons came in and started asking me questions for the media. On the ride back, I realized that I almost died outside the grace of God.

By now, K-loc (and possibly Reyes too) is thinking that I lost it. But Leonel (and maybe Chino), on the other hand, is probably thinking I gained it. There was a lot of people praying for me. San Fernando Cathedral held a mass for me. My cousin works at Incarnate Word and he got the nuns to pray for me. People from all over sent me letters in those last days. Woody, Rivas, and even Big Tex said they were praying for me. Let’s forget Divine Providence.

Leonel, do you remember how you told me that you should quit doing something for your jefita’s sake but it’s hard, because you enjoy it so much? Remember what Donnie Miller said about it? If, at any time in his life, now is when he needs to be clear-headed. He was right! This situation is very important. The last thing we should do is distract ourselves. What we have to do is focus so that we will be prepared and ready because in the end, nothing else matters. Instead of altering your mind, you need to purge it so that you can mediate, contemplate and figure out what it is you need to do so that you can be at peace on the day of your execution. That way you can face reality. Just in case Divine Providence doesn’t come to your rescue.

I will be praying for all of you and I hope that you all start praying for yourselves. Peace, Moreno.

~~~~~
I found this letter on Anderson Cooper 360, it was originally posted on Deathwatchjournal.wordpress.com.