When the entire world seems to be headed away from You,
Lord, give me the strength to flee to You.
In Your strength, I can face anything.
Even if I am forced to fight against countless enemies,
if I am pressed to the point where I despair of my very life,
just to get a glimpse of You, I will fight.
I will fight to get to You,
For where else could I go?
Who but You, Lord, holds the keys
to life, and death and eternity?
No door can stay barred against You.
Even what is done in darkest secrecy
cannot stay hidden from You.
I am in anguish inside;
I am fearful that my wicked deeds
will be found out, yet I pray that You will find them.
I pray that you will find out my wicked deeds,
for I know that my depravity will melt away
when it is exposed to Your light.
Lord, please give me Your strength
so that I may master myself and
spend my remaining days doing Your work.
Monday, January 27, 2014
Tuesday, January 21, 2014
The Who?
Praise the Lord,
for He is exceedingly great.
Who but He could take my sin
and cast it away like trash,
never to be remembered or considered again?
Who but He could know my inmost being,
yet still care for me?
Who but He deserves everything I have to give?
There are three things that make God great,
Four things that make Him exceedingly great.
My God knows all.
My God sees all.
My God is eternal.
My God is faithful.
Oh, join me;
come, let us go
to the House of His People.
There, we will offer ourselves to Him,
though it is He who makes us acceptable.
Oh, join me;
come, let us go
to a world that is perishing.
There we will share His love
with those who have no hope.
Praise the Lord,
for He is exceedingly great.
Who but He is worthy?
for He is exceedingly great.
Who but He could take my sin
and cast it away like trash,
never to be remembered or considered again?
Who but He could know my inmost being,
yet still care for me?
Who but He deserves everything I have to give?
There are three things that make God great,
Four things that make Him exceedingly great.
My God knows all.
My God sees all.
My God is eternal.
My God is faithful.
Oh, join me;
come, let us go
to the House of His People.
There, we will offer ourselves to Him,
though it is He who makes us acceptable.
Oh, join me;
come, let us go
to a world that is perishing.
There we will share His love
with those who have no hope.
Praise the Lord,
for He is exceedingly great.
Who but He is worthy?
Monday, December 16, 2013
Find the Cost of Freedom
In Numbers 28 & 29, the line-up of sacrifices the Israelites were required to offer on a daily, weekly, monthly and annual basis is given. When everything is totaled, the numbers are shocking. Here is a table with the numbers of animals sacrificed and today's approximate market value.
So, all these sacrifices were offered; all these animals were killed, day after day, year after year. With all of these sacrifices happening, we could assume that forgiveness for sin was happening, right? Well, there's a bit of a problem with that. In Hebrews 10:4, it says this; “It is impossible for the blood of bulls and goats to take away sins”. In fact, animal sacrifices are simply a reminder of the fact that we all are guilty of breaking God's laws.
So what hope of salvation did these early Israelites have? If the animal sacrifices were not capable of taking away their sin, then how could they find forgiveness? The answer to that question is actually simple, though it seems complex. The death of Jesus bought forgiveness for everyone who has ever sinned, from Adam and Eve, all the way down to those of us ask God's forgiveness today. As I have mentioned before, one of the attributes of God is the fact that He exists outside of the universe. Because he exists outside of the universe, He is not bound by time, as we are.
As it reminds us in 1 Peter, 1:18-20, this is the way that we are saved; it is not with perishable things such as silver or gold, with the precious blood of Christ, a lamb without blemish or defect. He was chosen before the creation of the world to be the sacrifice for all the sins of humanity. This is why in Isaiah 53:6, the writer can truthfully say that “the Lord has laid on Him the iniquity of us all.”
What a powerful statement this is; there is no person who has ever lived that was beyond the power of forgiveness, if only he or she asked for it. How many of us needlessly carry around burdens of guilt, over sin that we can be forgiven for. Though there was an incredible cost for our freedom, we need pay nothing for it. For us, the cost of freedom is $0.
| Lambs | Bulls | Rams | Goats | Total |
| 1093 | 113 | 37 | 30 | 1273 |
| $218,600 | $565,000 | $14,800 | $9,000 | $807,400 |
So, all these sacrifices were offered; all these animals were killed, day after day, year after year. With all of these sacrifices happening, we could assume that forgiveness for sin was happening, right? Well, there's a bit of a problem with that. In Hebrews 10:4, it says this; “It is impossible for the blood of bulls and goats to take away sins”. In fact, animal sacrifices are simply a reminder of the fact that we all are guilty of breaking God's laws.
So what hope of salvation did these early Israelites have? If the animal sacrifices were not capable of taking away their sin, then how could they find forgiveness? The answer to that question is actually simple, though it seems complex. The death of Jesus bought forgiveness for everyone who has ever sinned, from Adam and Eve, all the way down to those of us ask God's forgiveness today. As I have mentioned before, one of the attributes of God is the fact that He exists outside of the universe. Because he exists outside of the universe, He is not bound by time, as we are.
As it reminds us in 1 Peter, 1:18-20, this is the way that we are saved; it is not with perishable things such as silver or gold, with the precious blood of Christ, a lamb without blemish or defect. He was chosen before the creation of the world to be the sacrifice for all the sins of humanity. This is why in Isaiah 53:6, the writer can truthfully say that “the Lord has laid on Him the iniquity of us all.”
What a powerful statement this is; there is no person who has ever lived that was beyond the power of forgiveness, if only he or she asked for it. How many of us needlessly carry around burdens of guilt, over sin that we can be forgiven for. Though there was an incredible cost for our freedom, we need pay nothing for it. For us, the cost of freedom is $0.
Saturday, November 16, 2013
Weekend Fiction - Armored, Full Circle
Arianne was unsure what to do. She was determined to find the answers to her problem. According to the store manager, Wilton was not an actual employee at the store, but trying to find him seemed like her only option. She put on a loose sweatshirt, hoping to disguise herself. She looked at herself in the mirror, but she was still too recognizable. She knew that she had to change her appearance more. She thought for a moment, then got a pair of large scissors. She had always worn her hair long; she pulled her hair into a ponytail, then cut it off, as short as she could. She continued cutting until she had a fairly uniform one to two inches of hair all over head. She put her hood up and walked out her door.
Arianne thought that parking behind the drugstore seemed like the best idea; she hoped to sneak in through the freight door and look at the personnel files. She was certain that Wilton's name would be there. She stopped the car a few hundred feet from the door and stepped out.
Arianne focused on moving quietly as she attempted to stay away from the lights. She didn't even notice the figure wearing dark clothing and weilding a crowbar. The assailant raised his weapon and swung, striking Arianne on the back of the head. Though it didn't actually hurt, the of the blow still carried enough force to knock her to the ground.
She got back to her feet as quickly as possible and found herself staring at the would-be thief from the drugstore. He stood frozen in place with the crowbar slowly creeping through the air as he followed through the arc of his swing. Arianne pried the crowbar from his hands.
Arianne wasn't angry, but she coldly considered the thought of killing the thief. She knew that he would not hesitate to kill her if their roles were reversed. She raised the crowbar and steeled herself to swing it at his head. Then, she thought back to the sound of Connor's heart monitor slowing and stopping. “I won't kill him,” she whispered to herself. She threw the crowbar away from her; it seemed to hang in the air, right where she let go of it.
“Why didn't you kill him?” Arianne turned to see young man, walking toward her. The figure continued, “You know that he would have killed you; why didn't you kill him?”
Arianne looked back at the thief, still frozen in place. “I'm not a murderer.”
The young man was beside her now, regarding the thief dispassionately. “Of course you aren't! You didn't kill Connor, you know.”
Arianne turned to face the young man. He wore a nametag that said “My name is Wilton; How May I Help You?”
“You! You were in the store last night; you have to help me!” Arianne said.
Wilton responded. “Help you with what?”
Arianne was dumbfounded. “I can't feel anything; I don't know why. Why can't I cry anymore?”
Wilton spoke more softly this time. “Don't you think you've cried enough? You deserve to be free.”
“Will I ever feel anything again?”
There seemed to be a gleam in his eye as Wilton answered. “You might be surprised.”
Arianne closed her eyes and took a breath. She was startled by the sound of the crowbar hitting the ground with a loud clang. She opened her eyes to find Wilton and the thief both gone. She looked around, but they were nowhere to be seen.
“What's going on out there?” Connor came out of the back door with a flashlight.
Arianne looked around warily, before answering. “Everything seems to be alright now.”
Connor wasn't quite convinced. “You seem a bit shaken; can I buy you a cup of coffee or something?”
Arianne smiled, as an unfamiliar feeling seemed to appear in her heart. “I don't drink coffee;” she replied. “I'd love a cup of hot tea though.”
Arianne thought that parking behind the drugstore seemed like the best idea; she hoped to sneak in through the freight door and look at the personnel files. She was certain that Wilton's name would be there. She stopped the car a few hundred feet from the door and stepped out.
Arianne focused on moving quietly as she attempted to stay away from the lights. She didn't even notice the figure wearing dark clothing and weilding a crowbar. The assailant raised his weapon and swung, striking Arianne on the back of the head. Though it didn't actually hurt, the of the blow still carried enough force to knock her to the ground.
She got back to her feet as quickly as possible and found herself staring at the would-be thief from the drugstore. He stood frozen in place with the crowbar slowly creeping through the air as he followed through the arc of his swing. Arianne pried the crowbar from his hands.
Arianne wasn't angry, but she coldly considered the thought of killing the thief. She knew that he would not hesitate to kill her if their roles were reversed. She raised the crowbar and steeled herself to swing it at his head. Then, she thought back to the sound of Connor's heart monitor slowing and stopping. “I won't kill him,” she whispered to herself. She threw the crowbar away from her; it seemed to hang in the air, right where she let go of it.
“Why didn't you kill him?” Arianne turned to see young man, walking toward her. The figure continued, “You know that he would have killed you; why didn't you kill him?”
Arianne looked back at the thief, still frozen in place. “I'm not a murderer.”
The young man was beside her now, regarding the thief dispassionately. “Of course you aren't! You didn't kill Connor, you know.”
Arianne turned to face the young man. He wore a nametag that said “My name is Wilton; How May I Help You?”
“You! You were in the store last night; you have to help me!” Arianne said.
Wilton responded. “Help you with what?”
Arianne was dumbfounded. “I can't feel anything; I don't know why. Why can't I cry anymore?”
Wilton spoke more softly this time. “Don't you think you've cried enough? You deserve to be free.”
“Will I ever feel anything again?”
There seemed to be a gleam in his eye as Wilton answered. “You might be surprised.”
Arianne closed her eyes and took a breath. She was startled by the sound of the crowbar hitting the ground with a loud clang. She opened her eyes to find Wilton and the thief both gone. She looked around, but they were nowhere to be seen.
“What's going on out there?” Connor came out of the back door with a flashlight.
Arianne looked around warily, before answering. “Everything seems to be alright now.”
Connor wasn't quite convinced. “You seem a bit shaken; can I buy you a cup of coffee or something?”
Arianne smiled, as an unfamiliar feeling seemed to appear in her heart. “I don't drink coffee;” she replied. “I'd love a cup of hot tea though.”
Saturday, November 9, 2013
Weekend Fiction - Armored, The News
Arianne stayed at home for the rest of the day, half expecting the police to arrive at her door at any moment. After an uneventful afternoon, she decided to turn on the local news. She was shocked to see that the events at the drugstore were being featured. The news station had obtained footage shot by the dash-mounted camera in the police car.
“Stop right there or I will shoot you!” she heard the police officer shouting. Her response was inaudible, but the video was quite clear. Arianne watched herself raising the gun, then she disappeared. The Taser leads fell harmlessly, a few feet beyond where Arianne had stood a split second before as the gun clattered to the ground.
“What you have just witnessed is real; this video has not been altered in any way.” the newscaster reassured the viewers. “Authorities are baffled by this occurrence. Anyone with any information is urged to come forward.”
After a few more comments, the station showed video of an eyewitness account. Arianne was shocked to see the thief from the drugstore. “Somebody like that ain't natural; they gotta catch her before she kills someone!” He continued his rant. “You just let me have a go at her; she won't bother nobody again!”
The newscaster returned; a close up shot of Arianne appeared on the screen beside her. “This is a photo of the woman the police are searching for. If you recognize this woman, please contact the police immediately.”
Arianne turned off the TV and sat down. She had no idea what to think of the days events.
“Stop right there or I will shoot you!” she heard the police officer shouting. Her response was inaudible, but the video was quite clear. Arianne watched herself raising the gun, then she disappeared. The Taser leads fell harmlessly, a few feet beyond where Arianne had stood a split second before as the gun clattered to the ground.
“What you have just witnessed is real; this video has not been altered in any way.” the newscaster reassured the viewers. “Authorities are baffled by this occurrence. Anyone with any information is urged to come forward.”
After a few more comments, the station showed video of an eyewitness account. Arianne was shocked to see the thief from the drugstore. “Somebody like that ain't natural; they gotta catch her before she kills someone!” He continued his rant. “You just let me have a go at her; she won't bother nobody again!”
The newscaster returned; a close up shot of Arianne appeared on the screen beside her. “This is a photo of the woman the police are searching for. If you recognize this woman, please contact the police immediately.”
Arianne turned off the TV and sat down. She had no idea what to think of the days events.
Saturday, November 2, 2013
Weekend Fiction - Armored, The Drugstore
At the drugstore, Arianne saw a man standing at the customer service counter. As she walked toward the counter, he spoke. “Good morning miss; may I help you?”
“I bought this machine, yesterday; but I don't think it's working right; I know it was on clearance, but I don't want it anymore. I don't care about the money; I just don't want it.”
The clerk reassured Arianne. “Don't worry about that; clearance or not, we'll refund your money. Can I see the box please? I need to scan it.” He scanned the box, but the computer buzzed, noncompliant. He tried again, then tried typing the item number by hand. The computer still refused to cooperate.
“This item isn't in our system;” he said, “are you sure you bought it here?”
Arianne may have been angry, if she had felt anything. “I'm certain I bought it here,” she said, producing the receipt, “at 5:15 pm yesterday.”
The clerk looked at the receipt. “I'm sorry; this receipt says you purchased a hair dryer and a can of ravioli.”
Arianne was confused. “That can't be correct; you can ask the person who helped me last night. Is Wilton in today? He helped me with it.”
The clerk looked at Arianne, and felt sorry for her. “Miss, I've been a manager here for two years. No one named Wilton works here.”
Arianne stepped back, looking pale. “That can't be right; I remember him.”
The clerk was starting to get nervous; he thought Arianne might be sick. “Is there someone I can call for you? Are you sure you're OK? Maybe I should call an ambulance.”
Just then, a man strode to the counter and shoved Arianne out of the way.
“Open that cash register right now!”; he screamed at the clerk. He was holding a small pistol, and nervously waving it at the clerk. Squinting at the clerk's nametag, the gunman continued. “Don't try to be no hero, Connor; I don't want you pressing no silent alarm.”
When she heard the name Connor, time seemed to stop for Arianne. The criminal's face froze into a sneer, with droplets of spit hanging in midair inches from his mouth. A loud roar began to build, growing to the point of becoming painful, then ending suddenly. Arianne looked around, trying to identify the sound; she realized, to her horror that the gun had been fired. The bullet was slowly creeping through the air towards Connor. Arianne didn't know what to do. She looked around, but everyone else in the store just stood, frozen in place.
Tentatively, Arianne reached out and touched the spinning bullet with her finger. She quickly jerked her finger away; the hot round had burnt her. The bullet wobbled slightly but continued on its path. Arianne steeled herself and struck the bullet with her hand; it careened off course, angling toward a display of bottled water.
“What the hell?!”; the thief barked as water showered the counter. He raised the gun, aimed and fired at Connor's head.
More confidently now, Arianne stepped into the path of the bullet and grabbed it from the air. The gunman stepped back, startled by Arianne's sudden appearance, seemingly out of thin air. “You think you're some kinda superhero now? I seen you here before; you're just some stupid chick that don't even talk!”
Seeming to move faster than a blink of an eye, Arianne grabbed the gun, wrenching it from the thief's greasy hand. The gunman stumbled back, suddenly afraid of Arianne.
“Wha, What in the hell are you?” he stammered; then he turned and ran from the store.
“You just saved my life!” Connor's voice broke Arianne from her state of shock. “How did you do that? I thought I was dead!”
“I... I don't know! Everything is so wrong today; I don't know what to do!”
“Just calm down;” Connor said, “everything is going to be all right. Just tell me what's happening.”
Before she could speak, Arianne heard the sound of sirens from a police car arriving in the parking lot. She still wasn't frightened, but she knew that the police would have questions that she didn't know the answers to.
She planned to walk out the door, blend into the gathering crowd and slip away quietly, but she didn't realize that she was still holding the gun she had taken from the thief. As the crowd began to back away from her, an officer stepped out of his car and shouted at her. “Get on the ground right now! Drop your weapon and get on the ground!”
Arianne protested, speaking calmly; “You don't understand. I'm not the thief; he just ran out a few seconds ago.”
The officer was not interested in her explanation. He repeated his demand. “I said get on the ground right now!”
Arianne closed her eyes and took a deep breath; then she opened her eyes and addressed the officer; “I'm sorry, but I'm not going to do that.”
With that, she began walking toward the officer, hoping somehow to get away. The officer moved to cover, behind the door of his car, then raised his Taser and aimed it at Arianne's chest.
Arianne continued walking toward the officer. “Stop right there or I will shoot you!” The officer shouted.
Arianne held the gun by the barrel. “I'm sorry officer; I can't stay here.” She raised the gun above her head, signaling that she didn't intend to use it, but the officer mistook this for an aggressive move. He fired his Taser. For Arianne, time seemed to freeze again. She let go of the gun, which hung in the air right where she left it, then easily sidestepped the prongs and wires of the Taser. While everyone else seemed to be frozen in place, Arianne walked away, crossed the parking lot and got into her car. Only then did the world outside seem to go back to normal.
“I bought this machine, yesterday; but I don't think it's working right; I know it was on clearance, but I don't want it anymore. I don't care about the money; I just don't want it.”
The clerk reassured Arianne. “Don't worry about that; clearance or not, we'll refund your money. Can I see the box please? I need to scan it.” He scanned the box, but the computer buzzed, noncompliant. He tried again, then tried typing the item number by hand. The computer still refused to cooperate.
“This item isn't in our system;” he said, “are you sure you bought it here?”
Arianne may have been angry, if she had felt anything. “I'm certain I bought it here,” she said, producing the receipt, “at 5:15 pm yesterday.”
The clerk looked at the receipt. “I'm sorry; this receipt says you purchased a hair dryer and a can of ravioli.”
Arianne was confused. “That can't be correct; you can ask the person who helped me last night. Is Wilton in today? He helped me with it.”
The clerk looked at Arianne, and felt sorry for her. “Miss, I've been a manager here for two years. No one named Wilton works here.”
Arianne stepped back, looking pale. “That can't be right; I remember him.”
The clerk was starting to get nervous; he thought Arianne might be sick. “Is there someone I can call for you? Are you sure you're OK? Maybe I should call an ambulance.”
Just then, a man strode to the counter and shoved Arianne out of the way.
“Open that cash register right now!”; he screamed at the clerk. He was holding a small pistol, and nervously waving it at the clerk. Squinting at the clerk's nametag, the gunman continued. “Don't try to be no hero, Connor; I don't want you pressing no silent alarm.”
When she heard the name Connor, time seemed to stop for Arianne. The criminal's face froze into a sneer, with droplets of spit hanging in midair inches from his mouth. A loud roar began to build, growing to the point of becoming painful, then ending suddenly. Arianne looked around, trying to identify the sound; she realized, to her horror that the gun had been fired. The bullet was slowly creeping through the air towards Connor. Arianne didn't know what to do. She looked around, but everyone else in the store just stood, frozen in place.
Tentatively, Arianne reached out and touched the spinning bullet with her finger. She quickly jerked her finger away; the hot round had burnt her. The bullet wobbled slightly but continued on its path. Arianne steeled herself and struck the bullet with her hand; it careened off course, angling toward a display of bottled water.
“What the hell?!”; the thief barked as water showered the counter. He raised the gun, aimed and fired at Connor's head.
More confidently now, Arianne stepped into the path of the bullet and grabbed it from the air. The gunman stepped back, startled by Arianne's sudden appearance, seemingly out of thin air. “You think you're some kinda superhero now? I seen you here before; you're just some stupid chick that don't even talk!”
Seeming to move faster than a blink of an eye, Arianne grabbed the gun, wrenching it from the thief's greasy hand. The gunman stumbled back, suddenly afraid of Arianne.
“Wha, What in the hell are you?” he stammered; then he turned and ran from the store.
“You just saved my life!” Connor's voice broke Arianne from her state of shock. “How did you do that? I thought I was dead!”
“I... I don't know! Everything is so wrong today; I don't know what to do!”
“Just calm down;” Connor said, “everything is going to be all right. Just tell me what's happening.”
Before she could speak, Arianne heard the sound of sirens from a police car arriving in the parking lot. She still wasn't frightened, but she knew that the police would have questions that she didn't know the answers to.
She planned to walk out the door, blend into the gathering crowd and slip away quietly, but she didn't realize that she was still holding the gun she had taken from the thief. As the crowd began to back away from her, an officer stepped out of his car and shouted at her. “Get on the ground right now! Drop your weapon and get on the ground!”
Arianne protested, speaking calmly; “You don't understand. I'm not the thief; he just ran out a few seconds ago.”
The officer was not interested in her explanation. He repeated his demand. “I said get on the ground right now!”
Arianne closed her eyes and took a deep breath; then she opened her eyes and addressed the officer; “I'm sorry, but I'm not going to do that.”
With that, she began walking toward the officer, hoping somehow to get away. The officer moved to cover, behind the door of his car, then raised his Taser and aimed it at Arianne's chest.
Arianne continued walking toward the officer. “Stop right there or I will shoot you!” The officer shouted.
Arianne held the gun by the barrel. “I'm sorry officer; I can't stay here.” She raised the gun above her head, signaling that she didn't intend to use it, but the officer mistook this for an aggressive move. He fired his Taser. For Arianne, time seemed to freeze again. She let go of the gun, which hung in the air right where she left it, then easily sidestepped the prongs and wires of the Taser. While everyone else seemed to be frozen in place, Arianne walked away, crossed the parking lot and got into her car. Only then did the world outside seem to go back to normal.
Saturday, October 26, 2013
Weekend Fiction - Armored, Morning
Arianne woke with a start to the sound of singing birds. Sunlight flooded her living room, the bright light making her head ache. Arianne got up, exclaiming with pain as the patches ripped from her arms. Removing the headphones, Arianne stumbled to the kitchen. Pouring a glass of water, she got two aspirin out of the cabinet. She noticed the picture of Connor on the refrigerator, and felt nothing. No sadness, no guilt, no tears.
“That's strange.” she thought to herself. Going to her desk, she found a letter that Connor had written to her a week before the senior prom. Re-reading the words of the tear-stained letter, she automatically reached for the tissue dispenser on the desk before she realized that a tissue was unecessary. She didn't feel any emotion whatsoever.
She looked around warily. Running to the closet, she took out a box filled with pictures, documents and newspaper clippings. She read the first few lines of an article headlined “Local Teen Killed, Girlfriend Driver Not Charged”, but the expected flood of emotion never came.
Arianne thought she should be frightened, but she felt no emotion whatsoever, only a dispassionate regard for her strange situation. She decided it would be best to take the ‘Armor’ back to the drugstore. She quickly dressed and walked out her door.
“That's strange.” she thought to herself. Going to her desk, she found a letter that Connor had written to her a week before the senior prom. Re-reading the words of the tear-stained letter, she automatically reached for the tissue dispenser on the desk before she realized that a tissue was unecessary. She didn't feel any emotion whatsoever.
She looked around warily. Running to the closet, she took out a box filled with pictures, documents and newspaper clippings. She read the first few lines of an article headlined “Local Teen Killed, Girlfriend Driver Not Charged”, but the expected flood of emotion never came.
Arianne thought she should be frightened, but she felt no emotion whatsoever, only a dispassionate regard for her strange situation. She decided it would be best to take the ‘Armor’ back to the drugstore. She quickly dressed and walked out her door.
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