Jesus. The Way, the Truth, and the Life.
I’ve prayed and tried to repent over the past two years. I’m somewhat improved, but I can’t point to a time I was regenerated, born again or saved. I want to be more Christ-like but I just don’t seem to have the will or strength to do it, and I don’t seem to be able to get strength from God either. For instance, I know I should fellowship with believers but I don’t.
Can you relate?
Are religious rituals really that important? Are they good? Bad? Outdated?
Debate, debate, debate. It’s all I ever hear. But that’s not what we’re called to do as Christians. We’re called to love. We’re called to serve. We are to be servants. Debates and theological systems mean nothing without love. First and foremost, we love. And unless we do that, hearts will not be won. Remember the calling.
When we come to a saving faith in Jesus Christ, we come to know the unreachable depths of His intense love for us.
That moment I believed and received Him, His indescribable peace and joy flooded me, and agape love entered into my being.
Many of us who knew Tim knew he was quite the poet. But for others, well, maybe they didn’t know. Tim loved the Christmas season. He loved the lights, the music, the decorations, the fellowship . . . but most of all, he loved Jesus, the One whose birth and life we celebrate.
I went out to dinner with Tim on a Tuesday night a few weeks ago. As we ate, I watched him. He looked weak. His hand shook as he brought his fork to his lips. His body shuddered as he walked through the cold to his car. He said, as we ate, “I’m not going to put up my Christmas lights this year.”
“What are you talking about? Of course you are. Why wouldn’t you?”
“If I go downhill as fast in the coming month as I have the previous month, I won’t be able to take them down.”
I reminded Tim of the story he once told me about his dad–how he worked in the fields until the end. And about how he (Tim) wanted to do the same. Live until the end. “You’re going to put up your lights,” I told him. “I’ll be there tomorrow after work.”
After work, I headed to Tim’s and we got busy. The kids ran around, watching in awe as Tim climbed up on his roof and wrangled a large star of lights (that he had made) into place. I offered to do it for him, but he wanted to do it himself. After we finished, he thanked me. He said how much better he felt when he stayed busy, but that he was so fatigued that it was just hard to get motivated. We stood around for a bit and surveyed the lights. We didn’t say much. I loaded up the kids and drove away as he headed in to prepare to minister to his Wednesday night group who would be there in a couple hours.
That was the last time I ever talked to Tim.
I’m glad that he lived until the end. I’m glad he got to enjoy his Christmas lights. But most of all, I’m glad for the gift that God gave me in Tim. He was the greatest man I have ever had the privilege of knowing.
Enjoy Tim’s Christmas poems.
Sin, in all its forms, is enticing. And once we give in to temptation, saying no only becomes more difficult. Having an addictive personality myself, I know how hard it can be to say no when we’re used to saying yes. But it is possible. And it has to do with who or what we love the most.
Do you love Jesus more than anything or anyone? Really?
Have you ever felt hopeless? Empty? Devoid of emotion? Have you ever felt like sin was dragging you so far down into the muck and mire that finding a way out seemed impossible? I have.
And at such times, I wonder. I ponder. I feel like loving God is the most difficult thing in the world. The world pulls me in every direction. My job. Music. Free time. My phone. My computer. Movies. Food. God becomes an afterthought. Loving Him seems nearly impossible. How do you love someone you can’t see or hear?
Christmas is almost here. Will you be focused on your Christmas tree, your Christmas shopping, your decorations . . . or will you be focused on Christ?
Merry Christmas!
Sorry for the blunt title, but I didn’t know how else to say it. Tim has passed away. No more will we be getting the detailed, intricately woven tapestry of biblical logic we’re used to reading. I found Tim in his house on Friday, December 5, 2014, kneeling by his bed. His arm was outstretched, as if in supplication to God. I can’t help but think he was praying for us as he always did. I feel like a child without a dad. Alone and afraid.
But that’s not what Tim wanted. He wanted us to be confident in the risen Jesus Christ. So take heed to the words of Tim’s poem and remember that even though Tim’s body has failed, Christ remains with us. And we will see Tim again in glory someday.
Alone?
No, not really.
While I am gone
Christ always is with thee.
And though you will grieve
And weep and mourn,
Christ grieves with you;
His heart is torn.
Have faith,
Yes, most truly
Trust in God,
And you shall come to me.
In glory, oh Jesus!
Amazing indeed!
He’s more wonderful than
What we ever believed.
For now, we grieve and despair in our great loss. But we remain firm in our hope. We have Jesus, who is closer than a brother. His Spirit will guide us. It’s time to take hold of the reins and do what we’ve been created to do — know and love Jesus — our risen savior.
If you knew Tim and were touched by him, feel free to comment on his memorial page at the following link.
To many prayer is telling God about one’s requests. But I want to give it a different type of definition, not one based on what we do, but based on what we believe. Prayer is believing God. Those who do not pray, do not believe God. Those who believe God will pray. Prayer is an expression of faith.