For the next eight or so weeks, we are going through "Life's Healing Choices" during both Small Groups and all worship services. The study is based on The Beatitudes. Today's focus was Matthew 5:3, "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. "
Both Pastor Hosea and Pastor Andy gave the example of the whack-a-mole, the arcade game that allows patrons to beat down a furry not-so-lifelike mole in an unrelenting, no holds barred whack-a-match. We all have whack-a-moles in our lives, but instead of moles, we use tags such as, "stress," "over-eating," "lust," "control," "perfection," "ego," and so on. Once we seem to have one round figured out, something else pops up, stronger and faster than before. We shush it. It lays low but then tag teams another issue hiding in the hole to the left on the corner. "Errrr," we say. "I'm just so tired," we say. "If I could find the right lover," we say. "If only I were 3 inches taller and 30 pounds thinner," we say. But it's not and we're not and they're not and he's not. What gives?
Q: When did you realize you need a Saviour?
For most of my life, I've been in church on Sunday mornings. I don't remember NOT hearing about Jesus. Really, I just assumed that I could be grandfather-claused in, like in history books. Since my family was going to Heaven, I might as well too, right? My brother, though, didn't see it that way. I remember one particular Sunday morning when it was time for The Lord's Supper. He leaned over and said, "You know you're not supposed to take any." Being the big brother whose only goal was to cause me pain and suffering, I said something like, "Whatever."
When I was nine or so, my mom invited Pastor Hosea over to our house in Springfield so he could talk to me about becoming a Christian. I was baptized in winter when the water heater was broken. It was my mom's birthday. Afterward, my Sunday School teacher came up to me and said, "Julie, I didn't know you were being baptized today. Why didn't you tell me?" I think I smiled. Truth is, I didn't know why I didn't say anything. Moreso, I didn't know why I would.
Then came junior high. We were living in Texas at the time, and things were going on with me. I was full of fear. I regularly went to bed with the knowledge that something bad was going to happen to my family. When I would awake the next morning, the people I loved the most would not be okay. How does a 13-year-old girl move past this? She doesn't. It took awhile, but I arrived at a point where something was going to give. Though I don't remember doing so, I must've told my mom how scared I was. Thing is, there wasn't anything she could do. She could have reassured me. Slept in my bed. Told me I was crazy and to just go to sleep. But what good would any of that had done? Years later, what if those thoughts were still inside my noggin? Would my mom still be sleeping in my bed??? That would make for one really awkward honeymoon, given the chance.
What I do remember is realizing that I needed someone bigger than myself. I needed a Saviour. I was 13, on my bed, grieving to God. Lamenting. I poured out my heart and gave all of that to Him because I knew I couldn't do diddly squat myself. Through nothing but Grace, Jesus rescued me.
Q: When did you realize you need a Saviour?
So, when did you? If you haven't, I am praying now that your heart will be open to Him. Let us know if you wish to talk. 417.885.5232.
Final note: Pastor Andy's challenge. If you don't believe that God is God, Andy is giving you eight weeks to prove it. If he's in the office, his door is open for the proof.
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