Before going to bed last night, I took a look out the front window. Granville Avenue was dark. Completely dark. Six to eight non-working street lights, victims of thieves who stole the prized copper wire. Now the lights stand as daytime symbols of unfulfilled night-time expectations to fill darkness with light.
After a few minutes in bed it hit me: if we're not careful (individually and corporately) thieves could steal our power leaving us as only a symbol of an unfulfilled expectation God has for His Church—to be light in the dark. Prayfully, when people look at the church they will not see us as lights out, an unfulfilled expectation.
Sunday, February 3, 2008
Saturday, February 2, 2008
God's Blogs
Okay, I just finished Lanny Donoho's book, "God's Blogs." I've had this book since receiving it at Catalyst in October. I started yesterday and finished it today. It's a must read. I'll not give it away but it's very creatively written. Favorite blogs: Money, Time, Preachers, Weddings, Olympics, Tsunamis. Read it all. I've not done it justice to pick these over the others.
Thanks Lanny for an awesome book and making it available, like blogs, for free (at Catalyst).
Thanks Lanny for an awesome book and making it available, like blogs, for free (at Catalyst).
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
If All You can See is the Mountain, You're in Trouble
At the "Celebration of Life" Service for Rose MacAlpine, I shared the following account of a flying experiencing while traveling with our Pastor, GL Johnson, some friends and associates:
One of the memories of my time here at PC is a trip with Pastor Johnson, Ed Baloian, and a couple of others on our staff. We were flying in Ed’s plane, returning home via Arizona. In the distance I could see Mt. Whitney, the highest mountain in the continental US. The more I looked at it through the window of the plane, the more certain I was that we were going to crash into the mountain—it would be the end. Finally, trying to sound brave, but wanting to alert the pilot to the looming mountain, I said something to Ed, who was facing me. Without looking over his shoulder, he stated, “If you can see the horizon beyond the mountain, you’ve nothing to worry about. You’ll fly right over it. You’re in trouble, when all you can see is the mountain.”
Some would see death as a mountain, spelling an end. Rose saw it as a fly over point as she moved into the forever horizon of God’s eternal heaven.
If all you can see is the mountain, you’re in trouble.
One of the memories of my time here at PC is a trip with Pastor Johnson, Ed Baloian, and a couple of others on our staff. We were flying in Ed’s plane, returning home via Arizona. In the distance I could see Mt. Whitney, the highest mountain in the continental US. The more I looked at it through the window of the plane, the more certain I was that we were going to crash into the mountain—it would be the end. Finally, trying to sound brave, but wanting to alert the pilot to the looming mountain, I said something to Ed, who was facing me. Without looking over his shoulder, he stated, “If you can see the horizon beyond the mountain, you’ve nothing to worry about. You’ll fly right over it. You’re in trouble, when all you can see is the mountain.”
Some would see death as a mountain, spelling an end. Rose saw it as a fly over point as she moved into the forever horizon of God’s eternal heaven.
If all you can see is the mountain, you’re in trouble.
Wednesday, June 6, 2007
Away Isn't Always So Far Away (Part 1)
On a recent stay at a Sheraton Hotel in Los Angeles I read the following on a card placed by the phone:
“Away isn’t
always so
far away.”
The implication: telephones reduce the distance between friends and family. With the advent of cell phones, don’t we know that, “away isn’t always so far away?”
Check out Psalm 63!
Hiding in the desert, away from the threats of Saul, David longed for the close presence of God. In fact, so intense was his desire that his body ached for God. In this context David writes about his relationship with God, “Because you are my help, I sing in the shadow of your wings. My soul clings to you; your right hand upholds me.” (Psalm 63:7–8)
Away from home, away from those he knows, away from those with whom he worships, David longs for the presence of God. When he stops to think about his circumstances, he realizes with God, time and geographical distance is not an issue. “Away isn’t always so far away.” He is there even in the night watches (v. 6).
The old saying, “out of sight, out of mind,” is not the way of God toward those who call Him, “Lord.”
He promises he “will never leave us or forsake us!” (Joshua 1:5)
No matter what we feel, or can’t see, He is there! He is always on the line.
With God, “Away isn’t always so far away.”
“Away isn’t
always so
far away.”
The implication: telephones reduce the distance between friends and family. With the advent of cell phones, don’t we know that, “away isn’t always so far away?”
Check out Psalm 63!
Hiding in the desert, away from the threats of Saul, David longed for the close presence of God. In fact, so intense was his desire that his body ached for God. In this context David writes about his relationship with God, “Because you are my help, I sing in the shadow of your wings. My soul clings to you; your right hand upholds me.” (Psalm 63:7–8)
Away from home, away from those he knows, away from those with whom he worships, David longs for the presence of God. When he stops to think about his circumstances, he realizes with God, time and geographical distance is not an issue. “Away isn’t always so far away.” He is there even in the night watches (v. 6).
The old saying, “out of sight, out of mind,” is not the way of God toward those who call Him, “Lord.”
He promises he “will never leave us or forsake us!” (Joshua 1:5)
No matter what we feel, or can’t see, He is there! He is always on the line.
With God, “Away isn’t always so far away.”
Monday, May 7, 2007
Elvis has left the building
Recently on American Idol, through the wonders of modern video technology, Celine Dion sang a duet with Elvis Presley. Wow, what a moment! When finished, I recalled the phrase attached to the closing of "The King's" concerts, "Elvis has left the building."
Have you ever felt like leaving the building?
I don't mean checking out of life completely, although I guess what I want to say would apply to that also.
I mean: do you ever just want to give up on things, the present circumstances, the relationships, your job, your walk with God, etc.? Okay, so more than once I've said, "Doug has left the building!" Usually I've said it in a "feel sorry for myself" moment.
The Psalmist David had such an opportunity to leave the building. Psalm 11 is his response to those who encouraged him to run when King Saul was after him.
Psalm 11 starts not like other Psalms with a lament, but rather with a statement of faith. 1
In the LORD I take refuge.
How then can you say to me:
"Flee like a bird to your mountain.
For look, the wicked bend their bows;
they set their arrows against the strings
to shoot from the shadows
at the upright in heart.
David realized that fleeing only put himself in a place of vulnerability—as vulnerable as a small, hunted bird in the moutains. In fact he realized that already there were those waiting with bows ready to shoot him down.
The Word says that Satan is like a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour. Here's a thought, I've never seen on Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom, a lion roar just before it bounced on its prey. Instead it hid itself in the grasses looking for the right moment to spring. Roaring came later, after the kill. Before the kill, only stealthful stalking.
David new that leaving the protection of God's refuge would mean disaster. For quietly, without warning, from the shadows would come a close or fatal encounter with the enemy. Why risk it?
So David finishes the question with: "When the foundations are being destroyed, what can the righteous do?"
His answer is in verse 4:
The LORD is in his holy temple;
the LORD is on his heavenly throne.
He observes the sons of men;
his eyes examine them.
God never leaves the holy place of watch over those who are his own. He is ever watching, never sleeping, not even dozing. The "REAL KING" never leaves the building! Therefore, I will not leave the sacred place of refuge afforded those in his care! It's not worth the risk.
David ends with the promise for those who persevere, "Upright men will see His face." The ungodly flee, but the righteous, prevail, seeing the face of God, both now and for eternity.
However tempted you may be to "leave the building", to forsake the assembling of yourself with others of the faith reconsider. Remember, you're only putting yourself at risk. God never leaves His place of watch over you, do not leave His place of sacred refuge.
His for The Journey!
Doug
Have you ever felt like leaving the building?
I don't mean checking out of life completely, although I guess what I want to say would apply to that also.
I mean: do you ever just want to give up on things, the present circumstances, the relationships, your job, your walk with God, etc.? Okay, so more than once I've said, "Doug has left the building!" Usually I've said it in a "feel sorry for myself" moment.
The Psalmist David had such an opportunity to leave the building. Psalm 11 is his response to those who encouraged him to run when King Saul was after him.
Psalm 11 starts not like other Psalms with a lament, but rather with a statement of faith. 1
In the LORD I take refuge.
How then can you say to me:
"Flee like a bird to your mountain.
For look, the wicked bend their bows;
they set their arrows against the strings
to shoot from the shadows
at the upright in heart.
David realized that fleeing only put himself in a place of vulnerability—as vulnerable as a small, hunted bird in the moutains. In fact he realized that already there were those waiting with bows ready to shoot him down.
The Word says that Satan is like a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour. Here's a thought, I've never seen on Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom, a lion roar just before it bounced on its prey. Instead it hid itself in the grasses looking for the right moment to spring. Roaring came later, after the kill. Before the kill, only stealthful stalking.
David new that leaving the protection of God's refuge would mean disaster. For quietly, without warning, from the shadows would come a close or fatal encounter with the enemy. Why risk it?
So David finishes the question with: "When the foundations are being destroyed, what can the righteous do?"
His answer is in verse 4:
The LORD is in his holy temple;
the LORD is on his heavenly throne.
He observes the sons of men;
his eyes examine them.
God never leaves the holy place of watch over those who are his own. He is ever watching, never sleeping, not even dozing. The "REAL KING" never leaves the building! Therefore, I will not leave the sacred place of refuge afforded those in his care! It's not worth the risk.
David ends with the promise for those who persevere, "Upright men will see His face." The ungodly flee, but the righteous, prevail, seeing the face of God, both now and for eternity.
However tempted you may be to "leave the building", to forsake the assembling of yourself with others of the faith reconsider. Remember, you're only putting yourself at risk. God never leaves His place of watch over you, do not leave His place of sacred refuge.
His for The Journey!
Doug
The Squinting Eye of God
This past week Carol and I visited a fast-food eatery, specializing in tacos and etc. And now when pressed we can say, relunctantly, we went there once! Fortunately, they had pictures, because even under normal circumstances, it was impossible to read the posted menu and prices. Admitedly, the contact I was wearing for distance reading was an old one, as I'm awaiting a replacement. The only way I could begin to read the prices was to squint. Finally, I gave up and chose a pictured carne asada plate. (A greasy, bad choice!)
Later that day, I read Psalm 11:4:
The LORD is in his holy temple;
the LORD is on his heavenly throne.
He observes the sons of men;
his eyes examine them.
KJV puts the last part like this: "his eyes behold, his eyelids try"... Meaning, God's eyes are always squinting in our direction, on our behalf—viewing each detail of our lives. Not like a God with a fly swatter, ready to hit us when we land someplace we don't belong. Instead His concern is a benefit to us, as He searches the depth of the soul, and our slightest glances (Treasury of David). In this the Psalmist took refuge (v. 1) knowing it was better to stay in the refuge of an ever watching God than stray to a place of vulnerability, away from God's protection.
Remember, you're never far from the squinting eyes of God! (BTW: God doesn't have to squint, it's a picture to us of His attention to the most minute detail of our lives.)
His for The Journey!
Doug
Later that day, I read Psalm 11:4:
The LORD is in his holy temple;
the LORD is on his heavenly throne.
He observes the sons of men;
his eyes examine them.
KJV puts the last part like this: "his eyes behold, his eyelids try"... Meaning, God's eyes are always squinting in our direction, on our behalf—viewing each detail of our lives. Not like a God with a fly swatter, ready to hit us when we land someplace we don't belong. Instead His concern is a benefit to us, as He searches the depth of the soul, and our slightest glances (Treasury of David). In this the Psalmist took refuge (v. 1) knowing it was better to stay in the refuge of an ever watching God than stray to a place of vulnerability, away from God's protection.
Remember, you're never far from the squinting eyes of God! (BTW: God doesn't have to squint, it's a picture to us of His attention to the most minute detail of our lives.)
His for The Journey!
Doug
Monday, April 9, 2007
"I know how you feel, papa!"
Recently, I needed some space to process an unexpected event—some alone time to try and make sense of a situation.
In midst of it our three-year old granddaughter, Abbie, was visiting and was persistent in her desire for attention from papa.
Finally, she came into the kitchen, where I was trying to console myself with food, looked up at me and said, “I know how you feel, papa. I know how you feel.”
Now how does a three-year old know how to say something like that? And, aren’t grandparents supposed to be the ones who kiss “ouchy-booboos’? Here she was ministering to my pain.
Saturday afternoon, the day before Easter, I was spending some quiet time on our patio, preparing for that evening’s Easter service. Before me was Psalm 116:8–9:
“For you, O Lord, have delivered my soul from death,
my eyes from tears,
my feet from stumbling,
that I may walk before the Lord
in the land of the living.”
Suddenly, it hit me!
While we celebrate the resurrection of Jesus at Easter, we, also, celebrate our own resurrection. God, through Jesus, has delivered our souls from death, so that we may now walk before the Lord in the land of the living!
In the challenge of a moment, in the pressures of life, the unexpected pain, the twisted turn of events, the death-defeating Jesus says to us as we walk the resurrection journey, “I know how you feel, my child. I know how you feel.”
The words of Psalm 116:8—9 become real. They become life. They kiss the ouchy-booboo. They become worship. They celebrate Christ’s resurrection! They my resurrection!
“For you, O Lord, have delivered my soul from death,
my eyes from tears,
my feet from stumbling,
that I may walk before the Lord
in the land of the living.”
“You know how I feel, Jesus, You know how I feel!”
In midst of it our three-year old granddaughter, Abbie, was visiting and was persistent in her desire for attention from papa.
Finally, she came into the kitchen, where I was trying to console myself with food, looked up at me and said, “I know how you feel, papa. I know how you feel.”
Now how does a three-year old know how to say something like that? And, aren’t grandparents supposed to be the ones who kiss “ouchy-booboos’? Here she was ministering to my pain.
Saturday afternoon, the day before Easter, I was spending some quiet time on our patio, preparing for that evening’s Easter service. Before me was Psalm 116:8–9:
“For you, O Lord, have delivered my soul from death,
my eyes from tears,
my feet from stumbling,
that I may walk before the Lord
in the land of the living.”
Suddenly, it hit me!
While we celebrate the resurrection of Jesus at Easter, we, also, celebrate our own resurrection. God, through Jesus, has delivered our souls from death, so that we may now walk before the Lord in the land of the living!
In the challenge of a moment, in the pressures of life, the unexpected pain, the twisted turn of events, the death-defeating Jesus says to us as we walk the resurrection journey, “I know how you feel, my child. I know how you feel.”
The words of Psalm 116:8—9 become real. They become life. They kiss the ouchy-booboo. They become worship. They celebrate Christ’s resurrection! They my resurrection!
“For you, O Lord, have delivered my soul from death,
my eyes from tears,
my feet from stumbling,
that I may walk before the Lord
in the land of the living.”
“You know how I feel, Jesus, You know how I feel!”
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