Friday, October 21, 2011


It was cold and wet outside last night, miserable weather about any way one might look at it. Beth and I got a craving for some Sky-Line chili about seven, however, so I geared up and drove south, a stop at Wendy’s for the granddaughter, then right across the street for the coneys. Why, I don’t know, perhaps just the rain, the darkness, and me alone in the car, but I turned on the radio and tuned into a country gospel station. Two quartets later, though, was enough to convince me otherwise. Too many miles down the road. Too much “church” under my belt. Too long learning that people remain people, even in Christ… I write that with no malicious intent. After all, I “are one” and, if the journey has taught me anything, it’s God’s grace, God’s humor, is holding this package together. Fellowship is good; worshipping with others is a vital part of the process; and, yet, somewhere along the way you learn that most of what takes place within the schematics of Christianity is people “being” people. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Better that, in our stumble, we reach for Him than bull-headedly continue in our own determination. A song, nonetheless, is just a song if He is not in it. A sermon, if it doesn’t flow from a deeper well than a man’s own reasoning, is just words. It’s the “connection” that has my focus in the next step; and while it’s “secured in my belly”, the manifestation, thereof, is a matter gained at His discretion and through my willingness to receive it when it comes, a treasure hunt at all times……

No comments:

Post a Comment