I was getting ready for dinner tonight and the tv was on. It was the start of Footloose. I had to stop what I was doing immediately to do the dance while the song was on, then got back to getting dressed.
I don't know if you've seen it, but it starts out with a pastor who is telling his congregation that God tests us daily, then he gets so worked up, he starts yelling his words instead of talking. For some reason that stuck in my head. Both the yelling and the idea that God tests us daily.
First and foremost, I don't think God tests us daily. I think that each day I'm given plenty of opportunities to glorify God in my actions. With my mouth in what I say, my hands in what they do, my feet and where they take me. Sometimes I glorify Him, and sometimes, a lot of the time, I fall short. But I get up, rub the dirt off my hands and knees, try to learn from my mistakes and once again get that familiar feeling of His grace enfolding me. Grace is hard to describe, but something in your soul recognizes it immediately when its given to you. And it can only be given. I can't take grace from you. You can't take grace from me. It's a choice. And the feeling of receiving grace never looses its sparkle or its value.
I don't like hate. I don't use the word. I think its the antithesis of who He's called me to be. However, I dislike greatly, with a passion that's almost unholy, when pastors yell at me. I grew up in a church where that was common. Especially during revivals. I'm not sure there was anything restorative or reviving when a man who has chosen to represent God as his vocation yells at the very body he's called to minister to. However, I was a young girl in that environment so looking through a child's' eyes is very different than what I see now.
I did learn from that, even though it wasn't the most positive experience. I learned what kind of church body I want to be in, what kind of pastoral care I prefer, and that people can still get their point across with grace and kindness. No yelling required.
I don't know if you've seen it, but it starts out with a pastor who is telling his congregation that God tests us daily, then he gets so worked up, he starts yelling his words instead of talking. For some reason that stuck in my head. Both the yelling and the idea that God tests us daily.
First and foremost, I don't think God tests us daily. I think that each day I'm given plenty of opportunities to glorify God in my actions. With my mouth in what I say, my hands in what they do, my feet and where they take me. Sometimes I glorify Him, and sometimes, a lot of the time, I fall short. But I get up, rub the dirt off my hands and knees, try to learn from my mistakes and once again get that familiar feeling of His grace enfolding me. Grace is hard to describe, but something in your soul recognizes it immediately when its given to you. And it can only be given. I can't take grace from you. You can't take grace from me. It's a choice. And the feeling of receiving grace never looses its sparkle or its value.
I don't like hate. I don't use the word. I think its the antithesis of who He's called me to be. However, I dislike greatly, with a passion that's almost unholy, when pastors yell at me. I grew up in a church where that was common. Especially during revivals. I'm not sure there was anything restorative or reviving when a man who has chosen to represent God as his vocation yells at the very body he's called to minister to. However, I was a young girl in that environment so looking through a child's' eyes is very different than what I see now.
I did learn from that, even though it wasn't the most positive experience. I learned what kind of church body I want to be in, what kind of pastoral care I prefer, and that people can still get their point across with grace and kindness. No yelling required.
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