Here is another sermon. This one is from Dr Wiles Preaching 2 class at Truett. October 2010.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
There's Work to be Done
Here's my sermon from April 5, 2011 for Dr. Gloer's class at Truett Seminary.
Mark 4:1-9 the parable of the seeds. Be Blessed.
Mark 4:1-9 the parable of the seeds. Be Blessed.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Why I Write
By now you may be wondering why I write these things. It's not part of my job description. I'm not getting class credit. I'm certainly not getting paid. So why do I write the things that I do and post them for all the world to see on the interweb?
Honestly, I hadn't ever really thought about that question until yesterday. Never even crossed my mind. It seemed like a perfectly logical thing to do for me. There are these things called blogs where people write about whatever they want. Why not write one of my own? But the more I think about it, the more I begin to wonder why exactly I have been writing. What is it about the medium of writing that has led me to jump into it so fervently (well, at least most of the time).
Like the subject of the last blog, it came from the thought of something small. I began to notice that I don't really do well with carrying on a conversation. I guess I always knew this, but it became more clear to me over the past week or so. You see whenever we would go out in a big group to dinner, or when we would have groups of people over to the house, I would talk with someone for a little while, but then they would eventually begin talking to someone else and I usually ended up sitting there silently while conversations happened around me. This seemed to be somewhat of a phenomenon to me and so I started silently experimenting. You see I would usually be at one end of long table when we would go out. So in order to hopefully prevent this phenomenon I started deliberately sitting in the center of the table, hoping that this would make it easier to maintain conversations. To no avail, as now the people across from me and the people on either side would turn to one direction or another and again I would sit alone silently.
But this week made me absolutely sure. You see small things are starting to appear more clearly to me. And I realized after the last blog that even when I am around someone that all I want to do is stay next to them and talk for hours on end, I am still not able to carry out a decent conversation. Just can't do it. No matter how much I want to talk to that person and never stop talking to that person, still can't do it.
But when I write...
Wow. Something comes alive within me when I put words to a page. Every overflowing thought that is constantly within my head but never wants to leave my lips flows freely from my short, chubby fingertips and I am transported to a far off place where I am able to wax poetically and fluidly among the people who I am so desperate to interact with.
So why do I write? Quite simply, because my written words express the feelings that my heart contains but that my words are not capable of expressing.
Pastor Mama Coco
Honestly, I hadn't ever really thought about that question until yesterday. Never even crossed my mind. It seemed like a perfectly logical thing to do for me. There are these things called blogs where people write about whatever they want. Why not write one of my own? But the more I think about it, the more I begin to wonder why exactly I have been writing. What is it about the medium of writing that has led me to jump into it so fervently (well, at least most of the time).
Like the subject of the last blog, it came from the thought of something small. I began to notice that I don't really do well with carrying on a conversation. I guess I always knew this, but it became more clear to me over the past week or so. You see whenever we would go out in a big group to dinner, or when we would have groups of people over to the house, I would talk with someone for a little while, but then they would eventually begin talking to someone else and I usually ended up sitting there silently while conversations happened around me. This seemed to be somewhat of a phenomenon to me and so I started silently experimenting. You see I would usually be at one end of long table when we would go out. So in order to hopefully prevent this phenomenon I started deliberately sitting in the center of the table, hoping that this would make it easier to maintain conversations. To no avail, as now the people across from me and the people on either side would turn to one direction or another and again I would sit alone silently.
But this week made me absolutely sure. You see small things are starting to appear more clearly to me. And I realized after the last blog that even when I am around someone that all I want to do is stay next to them and talk for hours on end, I am still not able to carry out a decent conversation. Just can't do it. No matter how much I want to talk to that person and never stop talking to that person, still can't do it.
But when I write...
Wow. Something comes alive within me when I put words to a page. Every overflowing thought that is constantly within my head but never wants to leave my lips flows freely from my short, chubby fingertips and I am transported to a far off place where I am able to wax poetically and fluidly among the people who I am so desperate to interact with.
So why do I write? Quite simply, because my written words express the feelings that my heart contains but that my words are not capable of expressing.
Pastor Mama Coco
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Stories
I love listening to people's stories. From their entire life story to how their dinner date went last night, I love listening to people talk about their life. I guess it's because nobody's story is the same. Each one has it's own intricacies. It's own flaws. It's own flow. But at the same time everyone's story is really quite the same. They came from somewhere. They're doing something. They want to be doing something else. The ebb and flow of life.
You see regardless of what some might say, we are all a part of one story. Our stories aren't the real story. They are the subplots. Each of our stories belongs to the real story. The story of life that began long ago. Each of our lives is a thread in a rich tapestry that is being woven daily. And we don't ever really know what that tapestry is looking like. How the threads of our story are affecting the overall picture. You see each time we take an action, we alter our thread. Every time a thread is changed, the story of the world changes with it.
And quite frankly, sometimes it feels like someone's playing with matches.
Life isn't all flowers and rainbows. It's not butterflies and springtime. Sometimes life sucks. Period. But life can also be wonderful. These things come and go. Sometimes everything feels like it's going the way that you imagined it would. Sometimes it feels like someone is pulling the rug out from under you, then wrapping you in the rug and lighting it on fire. Sometimes we really wonder what kind of messed up tapestry could be possibly be being made right now.
Then it happens.
That one thing that makes you feel like all is right with the world again. The thing that makes you think maybe life could turn out ok after all. That one thing that makes you stop and say "wow, this life really is worth living."
I don't know what that is for you. For me it was an innocent smile and a wave. Nothing major. Happens everyday most likely. But for me it was so much more than that. It was the start of new day. It was like a fresh morning breeze after years of stale breath. Like the sun rising for the first time in centuries of darkness. A sign that there was still hope within this world. That God's promises still ring true. That old can be made new. That life doesn't have to suck all the time. That hope still rises up from the ground anew.
I know it seems like I'm drawing a lot from something so simple as a smile and wave. But the fact of the matter is that for all that has happened in the time I've been writing this blog, I have honestly been looking for any shred of hope. Any one thing that might show that there is still a reason for me to keep writing. To keep pursuing the life I have. And something simple was all I really needed. To breathe again. To hope again. Maybe even to love again. But most importantly, to live again.
Pastor Mama CoCo
You see regardless of what some might say, we are all a part of one story. Our stories aren't the real story. They are the subplots. Each of our stories belongs to the real story. The story of life that began long ago. Each of our lives is a thread in a rich tapestry that is being woven daily. And we don't ever really know what that tapestry is looking like. How the threads of our story are affecting the overall picture. You see each time we take an action, we alter our thread. Every time a thread is changed, the story of the world changes with it.
And quite frankly, sometimes it feels like someone's playing with matches.
Life isn't all flowers and rainbows. It's not butterflies and springtime. Sometimes life sucks. Period. But life can also be wonderful. These things come and go. Sometimes everything feels like it's going the way that you imagined it would. Sometimes it feels like someone is pulling the rug out from under you, then wrapping you in the rug and lighting it on fire. Sometimes we really wonder what kind of messed up tapestry could be possibly be being made right now.
Then it happens.
That one thing that makes you feel like all is right with the world again. The thing that makes you think maybe life could turn out ok after all. That one thing that makes you stop and say "wow, this life really is worth living."
I don't know what that is for you. For me it was an innocent smile and a wave. Nothing major. Happens everyday most likely. But for me it was so much more than that. It was the start of new day. It was like a fresh morning breeze after years of stale breath. Like the sun rising for the first time in centuries of darkness. A sign that there was still hope within this world. That God's promises still ring true. That old can be made new. That life doesn't have to suck all the time. That hope still rises up from the ground anew.
I know it seems like I'm drawing a lot from something so simple as a smile and wave. But the fact of the matter is that for all that has happened in the time I've been writing this blog, I have honestly been looking for any shred of hope. Any one thing that might show that there is still a reason for me to keep writing. To keep pursuing the life I have. And something simple was all I really needed. To breathe again. To hope again. Maybe even to love again. But most importantly, to live again.
Pastor Mama CoCo
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
God is not the path
So I attended Vertical on Monday night. It has been a joy over the last year to have that worship service to attend, where I have absolutely no responsibilities and I can just sit and worship God and get poured into. This past Monday Afshin was talking about Abraham and he said something during the course of his message that stuck with me and God has been speaking in my life ever since.
God is the reward.
It seems simple enough. God is the reward. God is enough in this life. Yet we don't seem to act that way too often. You see, life has become about us. We have become me centered rather than Christocentric. In our personal lives. In our private lives. Even in the sermons of our preachers, everything has become about us. How we can have a great and amazing life. How God is just waiting for us to believe in Him so that He can in turn bless us with monetary gain. With the possessions of the world that we want. With everything that we have asked for in His name because scripture tells us that everything we ask for in His name we will receive.
It's bs.
You see God is not the path to the life that we have always wanted. God is not the means to an end. God is not the stepping stone on the way to higher pleasures of this life. God is the reward. God is the end. God is the purpose. The reason. The finish line, the thing we are striving towards.
I am tired of seeing God used as leverage in some ploy to "bring souls to Christ." To provide the proper incentive for someone to walk the aisle and become another name in our church directory. God is so much more than that. God deserves so much more than that.
The real kicker of course is that we cannot give Him those things that He truly deserves. Not in actuality. You see, Isaiah tells us that all of our great and righteous works are nothing but filthy rags compared to the greatness of God. So we can't give Him what He deserves. So what is the response then? To use Him in whatever twisted way we see fit to gain whatever we feel we are privileged enough to receive?
Pardon my French, but hell no.
You see, Hebrews 11 tells us that though the world was not worthy of those that were martyred for their faith in the days of scripture, that we have been given something greater than them and that the promises of God will be fulfilled in us.
You see we were created to do our best to bring glory to God. To exalt His name with our lives. And God is the path to exalting His name with glory because apart from Him we are incapable of doing so. But God is not the path to gaining everything that our profane heart desires.
God is the path to God. And nowhere else.
Pastor Mama Coco
God is the reward.
It seems simple enough. God is the reward. God is enough in this life. Yet we don't seem to act that way too often. You see, life has become about us. We have become me centered rather than Christocentric. In our personal lives. In our private lives. Even in the sermons of our preachers, everything has become about us. How we can have a great and amazing life. How God is just waiting for us to believe in Him so that He can in turn bless us with monetary gain. With the possessions of the world that we want. With everything that we have asked for in His name because scripture tells us that everything we ask for in His name we will receive.
It's bs.
You see God is not the path to the life that we have always wanted. God is not the means to an end. God is not the stepping stone on the way to higher pleasures of this life. God is the reward. God is the end. God is the purpose. The reason. The finish line, the thing we are striving towards.
I am tired of seeing God used as leverage in some ploy to "bring souls to Christ." To provide the proper incentive for someone to walk the aisle and become another name in our church directory. God is so much more than that. God deserves so much more than that.
The real kicker of course is that we cannot give Him those things that He truly deserves. Not in actuality. You see, Isaiah tells us that all of our great and righteous works are nothing but filthy rags compared to the greatness of God. So we can't give Him what He deserves. So what is the response then? To use Him in whatever twisted way we see fit to gain whatever we feel we are privileged enough to receive?
Pardon my French, but hell no.
You see, Hebrews 11 tells us that though the world was not worthy of those that were martyred for their faith in the days of scripture, that we have been given something greater than them and that the promises of God will be fulfilled in us.
You see we were created to do our best to bring glory to God. To exalt His name with our lives. And God is the path to exalting His name with glory because apart from Him we are incapable of doing so. But God is not the path to gaining everything that our profane heart desires.
God is the path to God. And nowhere else.
Pastor Mama Coco
Saturday, August 14, 2010
Walls
I thought about not writing this. After the aftermath of what I wrote last time I've been quite curious whether writing would come easily to me or not. Whether I would sit and ponder for hours whether it was worth it to write something new here, not knowing what effect it might have on those who read it. Not knowing whether what I write here would be the end of relationships as they have existed to this point. Not knowing whether the next sentence I write could be something that creates a rift between people.
Then the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I can't stop. Every action has unforeseen consequences. I'm sure that each time I write my writings will carry those possibilities. But I was told by God to write the things that He shows me. So I'll write.
Tonight I attended the Carnival Night of Worship at Acts Christian Fellowship. The evening was good, but I want to focus on what happened towards the end of the service. Jaycee Jennings, a communicator from Youth for the Nations was the speaker. He did your standard altar call type stuff, but then he went on to talk to the kids about the stirring of the Spirit. Those who know me know that while I love ACF, I've always been somewhat leary of all the Spirit filled talk, as if it came about out of something more special than being a Christian, as if the Spirit is not with all Christians. That's always bothered me. Anyways, tonight as Jaycee was talking about kids being filled he ask anyone who was seeking this stirring of the Spirit to come forward. Now, I didn't. Not because I haven't been seeking God more fully or because I don't believe this necessary. I just couldn't. Even as several people, including Omari and Austin, both looked at me intently like, "dude, why are you not up here, this is what you're searching for?" I couldn't move. It was like I was bolted to the floor. So I did the only thing I could do. I leaned forward, put my elbows on the chair in front of me and put my hands in a handcuff position over my head. And I cried. And prayed. And cried. And prayed. I pretty much alternated this cycle for what seemed like an eternity. I shouted out violently in my head to God that I didn't know what to do anymore. It seems like no matter how often I do or attempt to do what He's called me to do, it still seems like nothing turns out how it should. Even now, at this point in my life where I have realized and acknowledge that I need to lean on Him and not other people, things still don't seem right.
I continued praying for a while, begging God to show me something. To fill me with something that would make this life make some kind of sense. Because as much as I love God and as much as He has used me to help and influence others, when it comes to my own life I still feel like such a wreck.
That's when it happened.
Throughout the night I had seen an ACF member whose name is Ryar(sorry if I spelled this wrong). Every few minutes I would see Ryar walk up to another person in the room and speak over them. This happened periodically throughout the night. Now I've grown accustomed to this in my time doing things with ACF. In fact, it seems to be the norm rather than the exception. Anyway, after what felt like an eternity of this cycle of prayer and crying, I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was Ryar, who began to speak over me something to this affect.
"God wants you to know that you need to tear down your walls. You've built up all these walls to keep people at a distance so that you won't be hurt, but those walls keep out the things that our meant to help you as well. You've built a wall that separates you from the Spirit and from those that have been sent to help. God wants you to know that you have felt like you've been in a constant season of defeat but that you are entering into a season of victory."
As Kids in the Way once said, the winter's passing. Like I said I've never been much for the highly spiritual nature of ACF. Not because I don't believe in the Spirit or its work, but because I've seen a lot of bogus stuff done in the name of the Spirit. Once you get burned, you're always more cautious around a flame. But this was different. You see, tonight was only the second time I've spoken to Ryar. Ever. He doesn't really know me at all nor do I know him. He doesn't know my struggles. Most people don't really. Yet when he spoke over me he used some of the same things that I had been praying and crying over. Verbatim. Every. Single. Word.
It seems that God has tired of me not catching the subtle things and has become more and more forward with how He speaks to me. But tonight the message was plain. Tear down your walls. Stop hiding from me and from others. When you build up walls around yourself, you're not protecting yourself from harm, you're isolating yourself from help. This was exactly what I needed to hear. And as far as that, "Lord, fill me with something more" thing that I mentioned earlier. Yea, He went after that again too. You see about a year ago, in the parking lot of a snocone stand I had an encounter with God. As Omari prayed over me and laid hands on me Omari felt immense heat radiating from me. I knew then it had to be God. There was nothing else it could have been. The last year hasn't exactly reflected that experience. But tonight God reminded me of it. As I sat with my hands affixed over my head, it felt like fire was oozing down through my fingers and into my palms. After a while it was like I was holding a fireball in my hands. And just as quickly as it appeared, the feeling left me.
You see, God is showing us what we can be. He's powerful enough that He can come through our walls if He so chooses. But the thing is that God doesn't want to have to come through your walls. God wants you to want Him enough that you will tear apart the very foundations of the earth itself to get to Him. But see the beauty of it all is that you don't have to tear apart the earth to reach God. God is with you, just on the other side of your walls. And if you will reach out and grab the walls that you have built around you and bring them down to rubble, you will find that all along you have been surrounded by everything that you have been looking for. They've been waiting for you. Just outside your walls.
Pastor Mama Coco
Then the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I can't stop. Every action has unforeseen consequences. I'm sure that each time I write my writings will carry those possibilities. But I was told by God to write the things that He shows me. So I'll write.
Tonight I attended the Carnival Night of Worship at Acts Christian Fellowship. The evening was good, but I want to focus on what happened towards the end of the service. Jaycee Jennings, a communicator from Youth for the Nations was the speaker. He did your standard altar call type stuff, but then he went on to talk to the kids about the stirring of the Spirit. Those who know me know that while I love ACF, I've always been somewhat leary of all the Spirit filled talk, as if it came about out of something more special than being a Christian, as if the Spirit is not with all Christians. That's always bothered me. Anyways, tonight as Jaycee was talking about kids being filled he ask anyone who was seeking this stirring of the Spirit to come forward. Now, I didn't. Not because I haven't been seeking God more fully or because I don't believe this necessary. I just couldn't. Even as several people, including Omari and Austin, both looked at me intently like, "dude, why are you not up here, this is what you're searching for?" I couldn't move. It was like I was bolted to the floor. So I did the only thing I could do. I leaned forward, put my elbows on the chair in front of me and put my hands in a handcuff position over my head. And I cried. And prayed. And cried. And prayed. I pretty much alternated this cycle for what seemed like an eternity. I shouted out violently in my head to God that I didn't know what to do anymore. It seems like no matter how often I do or attempt to do what He's called me to do, it still seems like nothing turns out how it should. Even now, at this point in my life where I have realized and acknowledge that I need to lean on Him and not other people, things still don't seem right.
I continued praying for a while, begging God to show me something. To fill me with something that would make this life make some kind of sense. Because as much as I love God and as much as He has used me to help and influence others, when it comes to my own life I still feel like such a wreck.
That's when it happened.
Throughout the night I had seen an ACF member whose name is Ryar(sorry if I spelled this wrong). Every few minutes I would see Ryar walk up to another person in the room and speak over them. This happened periodically throughout the night. Now I've grown accustomed to this in my time doing things with ACF. In fact, it seems to be the norm rather than the exception. Anyway, after what felt like an eternity of this cycle of prayer and crying, I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was Ryar, who began to speak over me something to this affect.
"God wants you to know that you need to tear down your walls. You've built up all these walls to keep people at a distance so that you won't be hurt, but those walls keep out the things that our meant to help you as well. You've built a wall that separates you from the Spirit and from those that have been sent to help. God wants you to know that you have felt like you've been in a constant season of defeat but that you are entering into a season of victory."
As Kids in the Way once said, the winter's passing. Like I said I've never been much for the highly spiritual nature of ACF. Not because I don't believe in the Spirit or its work, but because I've seen a lot of bogus stuff done in the name of the Spirit. Once you get burned, you're always more cautious around a flame. But this was different. You see, tonight was only the second time I've spoken to Ryar. Ever. He doesn't really know me at all nor do I know him. He doesn't know my struggles. Most people don't really. Yet when he spoke over me he used some of the same things that I had been praying and crying over. Verbatim. Every. Single. Word.
It seems that God has tired of me not catching the subtle things and has become more and more forward with how He speaks to me. But tonight the message was plain. Tear down your walls. Stop hiding from me and from others. When you build up walls around yourself, you're not protecting yourself from harm, you're isolating yourself from help. This was exactly what I needed to hear. And as far as that, "Lord, fill me with something more" thing that I mentioned earlier. Yea, He went after that again too. You see about a year ago, in the parking lot of a snocone stand I had an encounter with God. As Omari prayed over me and laid hands on me Omari felt immense heat radiating from me. I knew then it had to be God. There was nothing else it could have been. The last year hasn't exactly reflected that experience. But tonight God reminded me of it. As I sat with my hands affixed over my head, it felt like fire was oozing down through my fingers and into my palms. After a while it was like I was holding a fireball in my hands. And just as quickly as it appeared, the feeling left me.
You see, God is showing us what we can be. He's powerful enough that He can come through our walls if He so chooses. But the thing is that God doesn't want to have to come through your walls. God wants you to want Him enough that you will tear apart the very foundations of the earth itself to get to Him. But see the beauty of it all is that you don't have to tear apart the earth to reach God. God is with you, just on the other side of your walls. And if you will reach out and grab the walls that you have built around you and bring them down to rubble, you will find that all along you have been surrounded by everything that you have been looking for. They've been waiting for you. Just outside your walls.
Pastor Mama Coco
Saturday, August 7, 2010
Life in You
So I haven't talked about this with a lot of people, but it's been on my mind so I figure why not, after everything else I've posted this might as well go up to. You see, a good portion of my life has sucked. Of course you'll hear those that will say, "they're kids starving in Africa, look at all the stuff you have" and yea, I feel sorry for those less fortunate than me but this is my blog and a good portion of my life has sucked regardless of how many children have distended bellies.
Now I know why my life has sucked. Girls. I know, cliche right? Well, cliches became a cliche for a reason, it's because for a large percentage of time they hold true. Now some may say I've been too sensitive. Some may say that if I just developed a tougher shell then maybe these events wouldn't have made my life suck so bad. Screw that. Girls have caused me more heartache than I can ever completely recall. Now I admit, some of this does indeed fall squarely into my court. However, that doesn't change the fact the girls have ruined large portions of my life. Chasing them, loving them, hating them, whatever the case may be, girls have been significantly involved.
I won't go into details about every single instance, but some things still stand out to me as they are quite significant in the fact of my life sucking. I hold no ill will against these girls, it is just that they are quite distinct instances which I will not forget quickly.
You see, one girl that I went to college with rejected me. Full friend speech and all. There is only 1 small problem that I should mention concerning why this sucked so bad. I wasn't asking her out! If that doesn't qualify as life sucking I don't know what does. I made a compliment about her hair, which she had drastically changed from the style of which she had had for the 4 years that I had known her. And this was interpreted as hitting on her and attempting to date her!
As if that wasn't enough, during my time at seminary I have again been the recipient of the full on just want to be friends speech. This time, from a girl that I was neither interested in or attempting to ask out. I'm batting a thousand on getting rejected by girls I'm not asking out. If that doesn't suck, I don't know what does.
The last instance may be the worst. Most likely because it was not only someone that I kind of liked, but one that I consider a close friend. And when her life was not going so great, it seemed that she felt the same way about me. We talked every single day. Unfortunately, it was always about how crummy things were going and I was the designated shoulder to cry on. And I embraced that because I thought that maybe it things would eventually go my way if I did. I'll go ahead and admit the fault on this one. I put myself in a position to continually have my heart broken into smaller and smaller pieces. And now that her life is going good, I generally don't hear from her too often. Which breaks the pieces just a little bit more.
Like I said, I hold no ill will against these girls. To the contrary, I love all three of them and care for them very much. One of them is now married. One of them is fixing to leave the state for several months. And the final one says that she has found a guy that she loves very much. I'm proud of each of them, and continue to thoroughly enjoy the fact that we are friends.
You see I've finally after all this time reached a point where I can live freely. Where I can live in the knowledge that I don't need someone else. I'm finally in a place where what God thinks of me is what truly matters. Where He is what I need/desire/want/run to. Sure I slip up. I still hurt. I still feel like there's got to be someone out there that likes large men with a nerdy side and a tendency for philosophical and pastoral rants, such as this one. But I'm ok with waiting now. I think it sucks. But I'll wait. Because all I want is God. I figure if I can't be content with a loving relationship with the creator of the universe, some lucky girl doesn't really stand much of a chance. So I wait. Because I have tasted and I have seen that the Lord is good. And not only is He good, but He makes my heart pound right out of my chest. God makes me short of breath and He makes me rise to my feet for no reason. God is all I want and He has consumed me. And He is changing me into a person that only desires Him. So that when the appropriate time comes, I can be with the one that I have desired over Him for so long.
If you can't love a God who would do something like that, what can you love?
Pastor Mama Coco
Now I know why my life has sucked. Girls. I know, cliche right? Well, cliches became a cliche for a reason, it's because for a large percentage of time they hold true. Now some may say I've been too sensitive. Some may say that if I just developed a tougher shell then maybe these events wouldn't have made my life suck so bad. Screw that. Girls have caused me more heartache than I can ever completely recall. Now I admit, some of this does indeed fall squarely into my court. However, that doesn't change the fact the girls have ruined large portions of my life. Chasing them, loving them, hating them, whatever the case may be, girls have been significantly involved.
I won't go into details about every single instance, but some things still stand out to me as they are quite significant in the fact of my life sucking. I hold no ill will against these girls, it is just that they are quite distinct instances which I will not forget quickly.
You see, one girl that I went to college with rejected me. Full friend speech and all. There is only 1 small problem that I should mention concerning why this sucked so bad. I wasn't asking her out! If that doesn't qualify as life sucking I don't know what does. I made a compliment about her hair, which she had drastically changed from the style of which she had had for the 4 years that I had known her. And this was interpreted as hitting on her and attempting to date her!
As if that wasn't enough, during my time at seminary I have again been the recipient of the full on just want to be friends speech. This time, from a girl that I was neither interested in or attempting to ask out. I'm batting a thousand on getting rejected by girls I'm not asking out. If that doesn't suck, I don't know what does.
The last instance may be the worst. Most likely because it was not only someone that I kind of liked, but one that I consider a close friend. And when her life was not going so great, it seemed that she felt the same way about me. We talked every single day. Unfortunately, it was always about how crummy things were going and I was the designated shoulder to cry on. And I embraced that because I thought that maybe it things would eventually go my way if I did. I'll go ahead and admit the fault on this one. I put myself in a position to continually have my heart broken into smaller and smaller pieces. And now that her life is going good, I generally don't hear from her too often. Which breaks the pieces just a little bit more.
Like I said, I hold no ill will against these girls. To the contrary, I love all three of them and care for them very much. One of them is now married. One of them is fixing to leave the state for several months. And the final one says that she has found a guy that she loves very much. I'm proud of each of them, and continue to thoroughly enjoy the fact that we are friends.
You see I've finally after all this time reached a point where I can live freely. Where I can live in the knowledge that I don't need someone else. I'm finally in a place where what God thinks of me is what truly matters. Where He is what I need/desire/want/run to. Sure I slip up. I still hurt. I still feel like there's got to be someone out there that likes large men with a nerdy side and a tendency for philosophical and pastoral rants, such as this one. But I'm ok with waiting now. I think it sucks. But I'll wait. Because all I want is God. I figure if I can't be content with a loving relationship with the creator of the universe, some lucky girl doesn't really stand much of a chance. So I wait. Because I have tasted and I have seen that the Lord is good. And not only is He good, but He makes my heart pound right out of my chest. God makes me short of breath and He makes me rise to my feet for no reason. God is all I want and He has consumed me. And He is changing me into a person that only desires Him. So that when the appropriate time comes, I can be with the one that I have desired over Him for so long.
If you can't love a God who would do something like that, what can you love?
Pastor Mama Coco
Monday, July 5, 2010
Theology according to fireworks
Last night I got to enjoy the 4th on the Brazos fireworks spectacle with some of my wonderful friends from Truett. I've always loved fireworks. There's just something about boys and things that blow up. The funny thing was how things affect people differently. We, as grown ups, have been seeing fireworks for a long time. Most of us have grown accustomed to them and yet while we enjoy them, for us they no longer have the same impact that they once did.
However, for the little boys and girls that were seated directly behind on the little grassy hill we were sitting, these fireworks were the most fascinating and intriguing thing they had ever seen. Every flash and pop elicited a loud, piercing scream from on of the little boys. Every. Single. One. Such a piercing scream that one of our friends who shall remain nameless *cough* stephanie *cough* Sorry, got something caught in my throat there for a second. Anyways, one of our friends jokingly told the kids to shut up. I thought this was kinda rude and I told her as such. She said she didn't mean it, which I knew, yet as I told her the kids, who were very young, may not have known that she wasn't serious and she was trying to quelch the joy of what seemed to be the greatest night of their lives.
So this got me to thinking. How oh so much this is like our lives as believers. You see at one point we were the little four year old boy who screamed at the top of his lungs every time we saw one of the wonders of the Christian life, every time that God revealed something to us. We didn't care who was around or whether we were inconveniencing anybody else, we screamed at the top of our lungs to show how amazing we thought our God was. But the problem was we got older. We continued to see God work but our thoughts became "yea, we've seen that before God, when are you going to wow us with something really spectacular?" You see, we let God become routine and when you get into a routine, the monotony sets in. So no longer are we the small children who are elated at every flash and pop of wonder, we are the grad students who want the kids to hush because it's just fireworks.
So what then are we to say? Has God become less amazing because we have seen him work before? May it never be! Our God is just as amazing and wonderful as he was when we were the spiritual 4 year olds. It is time that we throw off this feeling of been there done that and embrace the fact that our God is just as exciting as the first day we saw Him work within us. So let us not shrug off the workings of the Lord as if they are no longer good enough for us. Let us embrace the fact that to us, God is still the greatest fireworks display we've ever seen, and one that will perpetually take us back to the time when our eyes were opened to these brilliant colors for the very first time.
Pastor Mama Coco
However, for the little boys and girls that were seated directly behind on the little grassy hill we were sitting, these fireworks were the most fascinating and intriguing thing they had ever seen. Every flash and pop elicited a loud, piercing scream from on of the little boys. Every. Single. One. Such a piercing scream that one of our friends who shall remain nameless *cough* stephanie *cough* Sorry, got something caught in my throat there for a second. Anyways, one of our friends jokingly told the kids to shut up. I thought this was kinda rude and I told her as such. She said she didn't mean it, which I knew, yet as I told her the kids, who were very young, may not have known that she wasn't serious and she was trying to quelch the joy of what seemed to be the greatest night of their lives.
So this got me to thinking. How oh so much this is like our lives as believers. You see at one point we were the little four year old boy who screamed at the top of his lungs every time we saw one of the wonders of the Christian life, every time that God revealed something to us. We didn't care who was around or whether we were inconveniencing anybody else, we screamed at the top of our lungs to show how amazing we thought our God was. But the problem was we got older. We continued to see God work but our thoughts became "yea, we've seen that before God, when are you going to wow us with something really spectacular?" You see, we let God become routine and when you get into a routine, the monotony sets in. So no longer are we the small children who are elated at every flash and pop of wonder, we are the grad students who want the kids to hush because it's just fireworks.
So what then are we to say? Has God become less amazing because we have seen him work before? May it never be! Our God is just as amazing and wonderful as he was when we were the spiritual 4 year olds. It is time that we throw off this feeling of been there done that and embrace the fact that our God is just as exciting as the first day we saw Him work within us. So let us not shrug off the workings of the Lord as if they are no longer good enough for us. Let us embrace the fact that to us, God is still the greatest fireworks display we've ever seen, and one that will perpetually take us back to the time when our eyes were opened to these brilliant colors for the very first time.
Pastor Mama Coco
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