The street, p.10
The Street, page 10
Truth is that there is a support group for every issue that haunts mankind. I am not suggesting that these are always the best choice, but what I am wondering, is this? What is it that really keeps you from reaching out?
Why is it that you avoid those friends that seems should be your first choice. If you are a drinker, why do you avoid the bars? If you are a sex addict, why do you avoid swingers?
Or if you do indulge, why do you feel so miserable and lonely all the time? Is it possible that you know a truth planted in your heart by the one who created you? Is it possible that you know in your spirit that you were created for so much more?
It seems that some folks love the pain and that they chase after misery. They would rather nurse a beer alone at home listening to sad songs. Could it be that this is not weakness but rather the voice of God guiding them away from sin to a place where He can speak to them about the pain and shine a light on Jesus so they can find the only one who can save them?
Is the human loneliness that attracts sinners really the wooing of God? Is it possible that God speaks through pain, loneliness, and heartache? I suggest that is the truth. God’s voice is in the slow sad beer drinking song. He speaks in the heartbreaking chick flicks.
What is He saying to the sinner who embraces loneliness night after night after night? I think He is speaking to your spirit. He is saying, “This is horrible, isn’t it?”
“You were made for so much more. I am right here for you; just speak my name.”
His very name promises the end of all loneliness.
I Am that I Am, that is his name—the one who exists and the one who is and always will be.
A parent dies, and so as a spouse, a sibling, and a best friend. They all die sooner or later. Sometimes even worse, they don’t die—they just leave. “I don’t love you anymore,” crushing words—a bullet would have hurt less.
Everyone dies or leaves. You’re alone with only the dog for company and then he dies. Life is a grave full of broken hearts and shattered dreams!
So there you are staring at the barrel, seriously considering the bullet. What else is there?
What do you think? If a man has a hundred sheep and one of them goes astray, does he not leave the ninety-nine and go to the mountains to seek the one that is straying?
It is not the will of your Father that one of these little ones should perish.
Scripture says that none seek after God. It also says that God relentlessly pursues us.
And since He is the one and only I Am that I Am, He never dies and He never leaves.
Loneliness has to be a choice because God chooses you and is always chasing after you.
It is even sadder for the lonely Christian. In fact a lonely Christian is an oxymoron.
The Christian knows God and can quote scripture all day:
He will never leave you nor forsake you.
Where can I go to hide from God?.
Brothers and sisters, He is right there, all the time. Seeking a spiritual restraining order makes more sense than proclaiming soul-crushing loneliness.
Quit being so rude to your eternal houseguest. He surrounds you and He lives in you. The only reason for His presence is that He loves you. The only reason you exist is that He loves you.
Parents will understand that sometimes you love a child with all the love you have but they don’t acknowledge it. They ignore you after all that you do for them. They live in pain, isolation, and loneliness as if you and your great love were nonexistent.
They have chosen loneliness and isolation, just like the rest of mankind.
This is a sorrow as dark as the night of the tenth plague.
This is a foolishness greater than building your house on quicksand.
This is pride as deadly as playing chicken with a freight train.
I will proclaim it here and now. Loneliness for the Christian and the non-Christian alike is a choice. The non-Christian can go anywhere anytime and find a roomful of people with the same problems he or she has and commiserate to their heart’s content.
The Christian has access to God the Father and the Son all of the time and even has the Holy Spirit leaving inside of them.
The non-Christian could have the extreme case of solitary confinement or being shipwrecked, I suppose. Those excuses don’t work for the Christian though.
If you are lonely, whether you are a Christian or a non-Christian, cry out the name of Jesus. He loves you and has been pursuing you your whole life.
CHAPTER TWELVE
A
The Balanced Street
I beseech you therefore brethren, by the mercies of God, that you present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable to God, which is your reasonable service. (Romans 12:1)
I was dreaming. I was in a house but I was dreaming. It wasn’t my house. My real house is very small. This house was bigger, not huge, not a mansion, but bigger. It had more rooms than my real house.
I was in the den. I wanted to be in the den. I longed to be in the den. I sat at a huge desk. A very large King James Version of the Bible was spread out in front of me. There were other Bibles on the huge desk as well. There was a New King James, a New International, an English Standard, and many more versions.
I was reading the Bible. That was all I wanted to do. I kissed the Bible. I ran my fingers lovingly over the pages. I wanted to spend all of my time at that desk, in front of those Bibles. I wanted nothing else but to feed on the Word of God, soak in the Word of God, and bask in the Word of God.
But then I read that line: be a doer of the word and not a hearer only.
I heard cries for help coming from the kitchen. Reluctantly I stood and walked to the kitchen. The sink was full of dirty dishes. They were crying for help! They were drowning in filthy water, and they had no arms or legs to swim.
My heart was aching for them. I rushed to the sink and pulled them one at a time from the cesspool of the world. I drained the sink and filled it with clean soapy water and washed each dish one at a time and placed it in the drainboard.
They did not thank me but they were so much happier.
I went back to the den and sat back down to spend some time in the word.
“Preach the gospel to all nations,” I read and smiled.
I kissed the pages and ran my fingers lovingly over the words.
Then it was there again. Be a doer of the word and not a hearer only.
I heard the television blaring in the living room. Reluctantly I stood up from my Bibles and made my way to the living room with every intention of turning it off so that I could return to the Bible. The news was on:
Blood bath in Florida
Liars in Washington
Murderers in the Middle East
Rapists on the Hilltop
Perverts in the pulpits
Fools in courthouse
My heart was breaking. I dropped to my knees and cried out to God. I confessed my sins of commission and of omission. I confessed for the nation. Weak and sore I stood and made my way back to the den. Exhausted, I flopped back into my chair. I really needed the Word of God now. I kissed the pages and ran my fingers lovingly over the words. I read the admonition to be harmless as doves but as sly as serpents. I smiled. But then I read that line again. Be a doer of the word and not a hearer only.
I heard loud voices in the laundry room. Though I was irritated to leave the word again, I was also curious. As I got closer to the laundry room, I was able to make out some words and phrases. The voices were arguing. They were arguing about the scriptures.
They were arguing about communion and baptism. They were arguing about predestination, limited atonement, and eternal security.
I open the door and walked on a floor covered with dirty laundry. The arguments were between soiled socks and dirty bath towels. They were not civilized debates; they were heated arguments not founded on any deep understanding of the scriptures.
I opened the lid on the washing machine to find a load already in there that had finished a full cycle. These clothes were clean but damp, ready for the drier. Their discussion was civilized and friendly, not in total agreement but informed unity, polite and orderly. When one spoke, the rest listened intently.
I looked into the drier to find a load ready for folding. The discussion now avoided disagreements and focused on points of unity and strategy for working together to improve their existence. I pulled them from the drier onto the folding table.
I pulled the clothes from the washer into the drier and started that process. Then I turned to the arguing dirty clothes and placed them all into the washer. I started the warm water and added detergent. The brand name was expository teaching.
The water and detergent quieted the crowd quickly. I folded the clean clothes together as they made their plans to work together for the good of all.
As I hung them up and placed them into the correct drawers, they said their goodbyes with promises to stay in touch and continue the mission set before them.
I headed back to the den with a feeling of satisfaction. Much good had been done. Bickering and dissent had been ended and cooperation and brotherly love set in motion.
Back in front of my Bible, I read—“and make disciples of all.” I smiled. I lovingly kissed the pages of God’s Word and ran my fingers over the words. But I was back to that phrase again. Be a doer of the word and not a hearer only.
This time I knew to listen carefully. I heard grumbling coming from the dining room. I stood with purpose knowing this time that something was required from me and all that I had learned from the scriptures would again be needed.
When I arrived in the dining room, I saw that a large table had been set. Every chair was filled with hungry people. In fact, the grumbling of their empty bellies was nearly deafening.
The table was beautifully set with crystal plates and glasses, highly polished silverware. A gorgeous floral centerpiece was breathtaking but tasteful. But there was no food or drink. The people sat patiently with their stomachs growling like a pack of wolves.
Somehow I knew what to do. I started preaching the sermon that I had prepared for the upcoming Sunday service. As I spoke food appeared on the plates. Milk and water filled the crystal glasses. Roast beef and potatoes filled the plates.
Despite the people’s obvious desire to dive into the food like animals, they lifted their napkins politely and folded them into their laps. They picked up their knives and forks with dignity and politely ate their meals.
Some knelt at the table after the message and I prayed with them. When all had finished, I stood at the door and greeted each of them as they left the house and thanked me for the meal. When the last of them had gone, I returned to the den.
I sat down before the Bible again, with these words right before me: “And how will they hear without a preacher.” Again I was compelled to kiss the pages and lovingly caress the words on the page.
This time I was not surprised to see the familiar words before me: “Be a doer of the word and not hearer only.” I looked up from the page expecting to hear a sound. I was not disappointed. This time I heard laughing coming from the patio. I rose from the desk and started toward the back of the house. The sliding glass door off the kitchen was standing open. I walked through into a comfortably warm summer afternoon.
There was a large in-ground swimming pool off the far end of the concrete patio. Everyone who had just enjoyed dinner was now in their bathing suits. Some were swimming and some were talking and snacking. There were some who are stretched out on the patio furniture enjoying the sun.
Suddenly I was in a bathing suit as well. I joined in a conversation for a while and then joined a game of volleyball in the backyard. I spent time in the pool before heading back into the house. All in all I enjoyed the company of my guests and spent time getting to know them better.
Back in the house, I found myself fully dressed again in jeans and a cotton pullover. I headed straight back to the den looking forward to hearing from God through His word. Sitting down, I found these words before me on the page: “let us not stop coming together as is the practice of some.” I smiled. I kissed the pages. I touched the word, flipped a page, and read those words again. Be a doer of the word and not hearer only.
I heard laughing again, softer this time and coming from a different part of the house. Somehow I knew it was a playroom. I stood up and headed down the hall. Upon entering the playroom, I saw my wife and sister and father sitting at a card table. My dad looked at me and smiled.
“Just in time son,” he said. “We need a fourth for euchre.”
I sat down as my wife dealt the cards. We played for hours. The teams would change as my own daughter joined the game along with my niece, nephews, son-in-law, and everyone else, Relatives I had not seen for years stopped by and we enjoyed each other’s company.
At last we knew it was time to rejoin the world invigorated and refreshed. I headed straight to the den. This time when I sat down, I saw names—Noah and his sons, Abraham, Sarah and Isaac, David, Solomon and Bathsheba, and Joseph and his brothers—ripped apart but brought back together.
For this reason a man shall leave his mother and join his wife. Family truly made me smile. I kissed the pages. I ran my fingers with love over the words. “Be a doer,” I read, but this time I heard nothing, at least not with my ears. This time a loving voice was singing in my spirit:
Sweet hour of prayer
Sweet hour of prayer
That calls me from a world of care
There was a closet door in the den and I knew to go there. Opening the door I saw a very simple altar built into the closest. I lit the two white candles. As I knelt before the altar, my fingers ran over the small wooden cross and white cover of the hard-bound Bible.
I am not sure how long I prayed but I do know that when I stood up I felt totally refreshed.
As I headed back toward the desk, I heard many voices calling to me. Some seemed familiar, some were not. I followed the voices down the hall to a library filled with books. Great authors that I loved were represented in the hundreds of volumes that lined the shelves: CS Lewis, Frances Schaeffer, Beth Moore, Thomas Moore, Billy Graham, Ravi Zacharias, David Jeremiah, and so on.
Men and women, who have enlightened me, explained to me and guided me. If it is important for others to learn about the Word of God through me, then it would make sense that it is important for me to learn from others.
I pulled down a volume from Francis Chan and read until my eyes grew heavy.
At first I felt guilty for my heavy eyes.
“It’s still early; I can keep reading,” I whispered to God.
“Go to bed son,” He replied. “You need your rest.”
I stuck a bookmark in place and laid the volume on the table. Instinctively I knew my way to the bedroom.
Somehow I was in night clothes when I made to the edge of the bed. I knelt there for a brief prayer and then crawled into bed.
When I woke up, I was in my own bed in my own house.
Not every dream I dream is so clear to me. In fact most of my dreams are Technicolor chaos at best. This one, however, seemed to advocate balance, something I have been preaching for years.
The confirmation was encouraging.
B
We Are Balanced
I am a simple man, like every other Christian though there are two of me—one when I am in the flesh and 1 when I am in the spirit. I suppose that many preachers would insist that we all must push and strive to always be in the spirit and I do not really disagree, but I do understand that sometimes we must attend to the needs of our bodies.
My body has a tendency toward laziness. A day of sitting in front of the television watching superhero movies would suit my flesh just fine.
But that would not be good.
In my spirit I love the Word of God. My spirit would be just fine reading, studying, and meditating on the Word of God all day every day.
That sounds so spiritual that I could convince myself that is a good thing, except for the book of James. It does me no good to learn it if I never use it.
The calling from God is never to only take. The blessing from God isn’t a blessing until you pass it on. Although I get so much joy from reading the word, it is nothing compared to the sharing of the word.
In the learning of the word, you will learn your calling. In serving others you learn how God wants you to share His word. Maybe He wants you to share in speaking or testifying or maybe in good deeds. He may send you to help in whatever way He has blessed you, maybe painting or mowing, possibly mechanics, or dentistry. God brings us to the ones He wants us to help.
Free will remains, however. Even after salvation, the choice is yours. There is always a calling. My overarching calling is as a preacher, but daily there are little things that God will ask me to do for someone else, for example, visit someone, feed someone, and give money to someone. These callings come often while I am studying the Bible. Will I shove the calling down, or will I jump right to it? Maybe the calling is for sometime later; if so, I need to make a note.
It is easy to say, “I will pray for you.” Having said it though, do we follow through? We say, “Just let me know if you need anything,” but are we praying to ourselves that the call never comes?
So maybe you’re questioning what this has got to do with balance. You maybe thinking to yourself, “This is just like a preacher. You tell us to take time to read the word and to help others and serve God, but you never say anything about when are we supposed to take care of ourselves.”
Here’s the thing: taking care of yourself is not your job. That is God’s job.
So why am I taking care of others if that is God’s job?
You and I are tools God uses to take care of others. Trust me, God has a tool to take care of you too.
All of us have a thing that we love to do above all else. We convince ourselves that life owes time to do this thing:
