A Life Worthy

Brothers, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: forgetting what is behind… (Philippians 3:13)

Don’t look back.

That was one of the biggest rules my coach taught me.  About 700 years ago I was a cross country runner.  I was pretty good, but I had a weakness that often got me into trouble on the race course.

I looked back.

I just couldn’t resist sneaking a peek at who was behind me, wondering if they were catching up or falling back or what. That was a problem, because it took my focus off of the challenges right in front of me, the things in my path that could slow me up of knock me down.  With my eyes to the rear, I couldn’t give my all to the race in front of me.

As an adult, sort of, I still struggle with the temptation to look back, to think about how I should have run that last mile when the next mile awaits. That’s silly, because the next mile has rocks and sand and thorns and I really oughta pay attention.

‘Course, we’re not talking about running anymore, are we?

Eyes front, Beloved.  Run hard.

Happy Monday

Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already been made perfect…(Philippians 3:12)

Whew!

Thanks, Paul.

I tell you, I am so very far from being the man I want to be that it gets downright depressing.  I think that if Paul had said, “I’m so glad I’ve arrived.  Perfection is just…perfect!” I would have crawled into the corner to suck my thumb and rock gently back and forth.

But he didn’t say that, did he?

Because Paul–even Paul–knew that the journey wouldn’t be over, that he wouldn’t be complete, until he stepped out of this body and into the arms of his Savior.  

The same goes for you, Beloved.

And me

Our time will come, we will be complete.

Until then, watch out for the potholes.

Happy Thursday, Beloved.

I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the fellowship of sharing in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death… (Philippians 3:10)

Chances are, I will never be called on to physically die for the sake of Christ.

But if I am?

In the meantime, there are other kinds of death.

Christ’s death was the perfect act of submission to the Father.  

Can I submit?

Christ’s death was an acceptance of pain and guilt and shame he did not deserve.

Can I accept?

Christ’s death separated him from all the joys and pleasures of this world.

Can I let go?

Beloved, we don’t know the future. You may one day be called to give your blood for the sake of Christ. But I can guarantee that you’ve already been called to give your life for the sake of Christ.

Are you willing?

Am I?

Happy Tuesday, Beloved.

I want to know Christ, and the power of his resurrection… (Philippians 3:10).

I wish I had some beautiful, powerful, poetic image for you this morning, but what I keep thinking of is…

He-Man, and the Masters of the Universe.

I…have…power!!!

So, for those of you who were not watching kid’s cartoons in the mid-80’s, He-Man was a burly boy named Prince Adam who would hold aloft his mighty sword, give his “I have power” cry, and suck down lightning from the sky. Said lightening would transform him from mild-mannered Adam into the mightiest of heroes.

Seriously…his name was Adam.

And he was transformed by power from on high.

And he defeated Skeletor, who is pretty much a death symbol, and who consorts with demonic henchmen, one of whom is a snake-guy.

I can’t believe I never saw this before…I’m gonna have to Google it.

So, yeah, Beloved, that’s the image that comes to mind this morning when I consider the Resurrection of our Lord.

If you want to stop following this blog now, I’ll understand.

Happy Friday, Beloved.

…that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which is through faith in Christ–the righteousness that comes from God and is by faith  (Philippians 3:9).

I remember a book I read when I was a kid.  In it, Death was a regular guy whose job was to come collect your soul when you died. Good deeds from your life made your soul lighter; bad deeds made it heavier.  Mr. Death freed your soul and allowed it to float up to heaven or sink down to hell.

Cool story–bad theology.

Two major problems from the perspective of Truth.  First, as we’ve already seen, your most righteous righteousness ain’t so righteous, so your soul–and mine–would float as well as balloons filled with mashed potatoes.  Second, God isn’t looking for a 51%-49% proposition.  Anything less than perfection is an epic fail.

But I could never–

Exactly.

Aaaaaand…we’re back to Jesus.

Exactly.

Happy Wednesday, Beloved.