Ever felt as if your life is already pre-destined? That somewhere in the clouds there is someone painting your life's picture? Well, if you are a Christian you already know the answer to that, but if you are not....you might be pondering more as you read this. Depending on your family upbringing, your life's "picture" can come out looking beautiful, bright, and full of life within its borders. Others, hold a shade of more darker, gloomier and lifeless colors; reflecting the foundation of sin played out by those you love.
Family is tough. The slighest "malfunction in the junction" can cause relational streaks in your portrait. Streaks that even the best painters cannot fix back to its original purpose. I experience that same style of streaks even today as a pastor for my family holds a section of my portrait with darker colors. Most believers in Christ have a desire to be loved and accepted, thus a reasoning for their conversion and life changing moments.
"But that's no life for you. You learned Christ! My assumption is that you have paid careful attention to him, been well instructed in the truth precisely as we have it in Jesus. Since, then, we do not have the excuse of ignorance, everything—and I do mean everything—connected with that old way of life has to go. It's rotten through and through. Get rid of it! And then take on an entirely new way of life—a God-fashioned life, a life renewed from the inside and working itself into your conduct as God accurately reproduces his character in you. What this adds up to, then, is this: no more lies, no more pretense. Tell your neighbor the truth. In Christ's body we're all connected to each other, after all. When you lie to others, you end up lying to yourself. Go ahead and be angry. You do well to be angry—but don't use your anger as fuel for revenge. And don't stay angry. Don't go to bed angry. Don't give the Devil that kind of foothold in your life."
Ephesians 4:20-27 (The Message)
If you allow someone else, other than your Heavenly Father influence or control your life your painting of life will not look like the masterpiece that was intended for you. Take the brush, submit it to the Lord and let Him paint your way to Heaven's glorious gallery where all your previous streaks are covered by the Master's seal.
Wheel of Fortune game
2 comments:
Chad,
Got this from someone and thought I would share with you.
I showered and shaved... I adjusted my tie.
I got there and sat... In a pew just in time.
Bowing my head in prayer... As I closed my eyes.
I saw the shoe of the man next to me... Touching my own. I sighed.
With plenty of room on either side... I thought, 'Why must our soles touch?'
It bothered me, his shoe touching mine... But it didn't bother him much.
A prayer began: 'Our Father'... I thought, 'This man with the shoes, has no pride.
They're dusty, worn, and scratched. Even worse, there are holes on the side!'
'Thank You for blessings,' the prayer went on.
The shoe man said...A quiet 'Amen.'
I tried to focus on the prayer... But my thoughts were on his shoes again.
Aren't we supposed to look our best. When walking through that door?
'Well, this certainly isn't it,' I thought, Glancing toward the floor.
Then the prayer was ended... And the songs of praise began.
The shoe man was certainly loud... Sounding proud as he sang.
His voice lifted the rafters... His hands were raised high.
The Lord could surely hear. The shoe man's voice from the sky.
It was time for the offering... And what I threw in was steep.
I watched as the shoe man reached... Into his pockets so deep.
I saw what was pulled out... What the shoe man put in.
Then I heard a soft 'clink' . As when silver hits tin.
The sermon really bored me... To tears, and that's no lie.
It was the same for the shoe man... For tears fell from his eyes.
At the end of the service... As is the custom here.
We must greet new visitors, And show them all good cheer.
But I felt moved somehow... And wanted to meet the shoe man.
So after the closing prayer... I reached over and shook his hand.
He was old and his skin was dark... And his hair was truly a mess.
But I thanked him for coming... For being our guest.
He said, 'My names' Charlie... I'm glad to meet you, my friend.'
There were tears in his eyes... But he had a large, wide grin.
'Let me explain,' he said... Wiping tears from his eyes.
'I've been coming here for months... And you're the first to say 'Hi.''
'I know that my appearance...'Is not like all the rest.
'But I really do try...'To always look my best.'
'I always clean and polish my shoes..'Before my very long walk.
'But by the time I get here... 'They're dirty and dusty, like chalk.'
My heart filled with pain... And I swallowed to hide my tears.
As he continued to apologize... For daring to sit so near
He said! , 'When I get here...'I know I must look a sight.
'But I thought if I could touch you..'Then maybe our souls might unite.'
I was silent for a moment... Knowing whatever was said
Would pale in comparison... I spoke from my heart, not my head.
'Oh, you've touched me,' I said...'And taught me, in part;
'That the best of any man...'Is what is found in his heart.'
The rest, I thought,... This shoe man will never know.
Like just how thankful I really am... That his dirty old shoe touched my soul
You are special to me and you have made a difference in my life.
I respect you, and truly cherish you!
Interesting analogy. From the potter to the painter. Allow Him to paint me/my life so that others will see His handiwork, Christ in me. I like it. And I should not be distracted or distraught by others' attempts to paint me otherwise when I am relying on Him.
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