Do You Speak “Church”?

I was sitting in church Sunday while one of our pastor was welcoming visitors. As happens every week, he invited anyone new to come to the visitor reception held after each service. The projectionist lit up the “glowing orb” over one pair of doors, highlighted the exit one could take to find snacks, a meet-and-greet with several pastors, and this week’s free gift (is there any other kind?). But what struck me was that the sign projected over the door didn’t just say “Guests.” It said “Guest Central.”

We seem to have a habit of giving special names to everything our church does. Instead of mere announcements, we have the “NLC3.” We don’t just have a Christmas program, we have “Wonderland.” And last year, we didn’t just have a weekly prayer meeting, we experienced “Revival Town.”

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Would You Support My…?

Will you please support …

  • my mission trip to India?
  • Bible smuggling in North Korea?
  • me as I go to England with YWAM?
  • the college ministry I joined as staff?
  • my church-planting ministry in Germany?
  • our kingdom business in West Africa?
  • our orphanage in San Salvador?
  • the local rescue mission?

The list keeps growing. We have a lot of close friends and relatives who are supported in their ministries by donations. Our “Global” Sunday School class hosts a steady stream of missionaries all needing more money. And all our mission-minded friends have kids who are now graduating from college, joining various ministries, and raising their own support.

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Warning…

We just exchanged our aging pick-up for a newer vehicle that gets much better gas mileage. Wanting to take the best care possible of our new car, we sat down together to read the owner’s manual. (Yes, I know, nobody actually reads the directions. We’re just weird that way.)

While the manual is quite thick, clearly most of the contents are there for the express purpose of making the lawyers happy.

In our reading, we discovered these serious hazards:

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Working for Free

What ever happened to paying for work?

The website announced:

Obama for America invites artists from across the country to volunteer their creativity to support President Obama’s plan to create jobs now, and his re-election campaign to keep fighting for jobs for the next four years.

Seems that artists aren’t included among those who need jobs. (See the Graphic Artists Guild’s response.)

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It’s OK to Be Overwhelmed

 

“God won’t give you more than you can handle.”

We were going through a particularly trying time in our lives, and my friend was trying to be helpful.

The problem? Her advice wasn’t true. God had given me more than I could handle. The situation was overwhelming. I was exhausted, my nerves were frayed, and there was not even a glimmer of light at the end of a very dark tunnel. I was beginning to consider the benefits of a nervous breakdown.

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Self Control

In my on-again, off-again series on God’s “Steps to Success” (found in 2 Peter 1:3, 5-8), I’ve been meaning to write about self control for some time, but I never knew quite how to approach the topic. Yes, in Peter’s list, “self-control” comes after knowledge—first we need to know the right thing to do, and then we need to follow through and actually do it! But how does this affect my day-to-day life?

Then last month something happened that turned this from an intellectual exercise into a personal issue.

Though Pete was out of town, I still planned to attend a special Christian concert about twenty minutes away. To get there, I had to pass through a rural area with no street lights. Since my night vision is less than optimal, I arranged a ride with another couple.

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I Don’t Have Time…

Due to a God-arranged series of events, I was recently offered a free membership at our local Curves, the “gym” for women. Since I had been praying for some way to get into better shape (although, as I’ve often heard, “round” is a shape), I eagerly accepted.

A little context: In grade school, back when the kids still chose up teams, I was the stereotypical “last kid” nobody wanted. I passed high school P.E. by showing up with a freshly washed uniform every Monday. If a sport involves any sort of ball, from ping pong to softball, I’m worse than pathetic. In fact, my 11th grade tennis teacher told me I was so hopeless, I would never learn to play tennis. I’d like tell you the story of how that comment inspired me to become a skilled tennis player, but God frowns on lying.

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