It makes me sad that the Christianity tag in tumblr is filled with hate from all sides of the spectrum.
A God who cries with joy
I saw my boss cry today.
He’s a good man. We all know this. All the teachers, all the students, everyone knows. We know Richard cares. That he invests himself personally, financially, and emotionally in the students at his school.
We convened a meeting today for the entire school (yes, it’s a small school. It’s kinda a large extended family). Several bad things had happened, but he didn’t cry for those.
It was strange.
He started choking up as he changed topics. He said he went to court on Thursday. I thought: Oh no! What happened?
And he told us: his loved child could be adopted now. Isaiah, whom he had loved and adored and taken care of for a year and four months, would officially be released from CPS care, and Richard could now adopt him.
The room erupted in applause. Because we know Richard loves us - and of course, we all love Richard.
And he was so happy. So happy that all the long waiting was over. That all the trials, the decisions to be made, the fear that Isaiah would go back to his mother - that was over. Isaiah was now his son. And I know Richard would have loved him regardless, but now Isaiah was safe. He was safe.
I realized on the car ride home, that Richard showed me how our Father feels.
That when we turn to him, whether it’s the first time, the second, or the time when we think it’s too late already, God cries with joy.
You’re safe now, He must cry. You’re coming back to me. You’re my child. I love you, I love you, I love you. I will hold you and show you that you are accepted, you are safe, you are loved.
And that’s the story of the Bible. A story of a Father in a desperate fight to save the ones he loves. And when you turn, he weeps with the tears of a thousand bridegrooms, because the one he loves is coming home. The one he loves is called his son.
May I suggest some reading by my good friend Jessica?
Are any of us, really?
HAHA YES SOMEONE GETS IT
But also I don’t even try to be
My adopted sister and I joke about this all the time, but it’s true.
I’m not church appropriate.
When I practice my sermons, I sometimes pull up a chair right in front of me.
I picture the 15 year old kid whose parents are divorced and who wants to kill himself everyday and hates everyone at school.
I picture the single mom who lost custody of her children because she can’t hold down a job in this economy and drinks herself to sleep every night.
I picture the hard-hearted religious hypocrite who sings loudly every Sunday at his church but goes home to beat his kids.
I think of my future wife, my future children, I think of the historical figures in the Bible sitting there hearing my preaching.
I’m not about to yell in someone’s face who has real issues that need real help.
It’s great to sound passionate. But what does real passion sound like?
It sounds like a man nailed to a cross whispering forgiveness over his own murderers. It sounds like a man raised to life calling for the disciple who betrayed him so he could reinstate him back to fruitful ministry. It sounds like Jesus weeping over Jerusalem, angry at a temple for turning God’s house into a consumer’s playground, raising a young girl to life with the words, “It’s time to wake up now, honey.”
I’m fine with loud preaching, but what are we loud about?
Reblog if you’re a Walt Ribeiro fan.
this came across my dash. how could i not reblog.
(Source: aaron-ouji)
And in a sense
I’m kinda glad for my struggle with pornography (which I’ve now categorized as a coping mechanism problem). Because I’ve realized that this struggle is symptomatic - underneath it lies a much more deadly disease.
Because I’ve heard, and believe, hundreds of time that pornography will destroy a marriage, relationships with other people, and whatnot.
But I realized that this struggle is connected to my relationship with God. And even if I remove this struggle, if I my relationship with God isn’t growing, that disease will poison everyone around me.
A life with pornography is destructive, yes. But a life without God leads to ultimate failure.
I’m thankful because it has pointed out my fault, in the same way that a cold that threatens to kill you can be fatal, and must be dealt with. However, if a cold is threatening to kill you, you have a much more important immune deficiency to deal with.
I’m thankful for my struggles, and that God is doing a good work within me to bring me towards his holiness. I’m thankful that God loves me regardless of what I do, and that he sees me both for who I am and who he’s making me.
Sola Dei Gloria.
