To my future wife part 2

To my wife:

Here's a little something about me before I go on: I am stubborn like a mule and many, again I say, many times I act as if my opinions are the primacy of every discussion (or argument). With that said,

to my Wife:

I hope you are a woman of conviction where in any discussion, argument, or debate, you can hold your ground and state your opinions articulately. In all things: whether in discussion, I hope you're just as passionate as I am, even if it is the most arbitrary topic to discuss about, not because of the topic at hand, rather, because the company is what you enjoy most about me (with me); whether argument or debate, teach me humility and be bold to tell me when I'm wrong so that edification can lay manifested.

Oh future wife, I lay here struggling and wrestling with a lot of things and because of thus, I feel as if I walk in this life limping with one leg...so would you be my crutch to help me walk, to appease what loneliness lay in me, and the Lord be our guide to direct us on a path according to His righteousness? I feel as though the pillars in my heart are not stable enough to keep the roof of my emotions steady. May you be the pillar that stands next to me to help keep me stable in times when emotions want to dictate my life decisions in a way that is not according to His righteousness. May I be all these things for you?

I hope you can find pleasure in sitting at a coffee shop with me, reading a book of your own choice without a word being spoken and to you, that'll be just fine. Simply, just fine.

Sometimes I feel as if you're just an imaginary, idealistic woman that is impossible to find (like a unicorn).

I should just stay celibate...

But woman! I burn with way too much passion!! so...

WHERE THE HEAVEN ARE YOU!?

ahem.

My confessions to you:

I cannot guarantee you a life of luxury or a blank check for you to write whatever amount you so desire to spend in whatever circumstance you're in. I cannot guarantee you a house with 5 bedrooms and 10 bathrooms with 3 walk-in closets. I cannot guarantee you the desires you may have as a woman for certain material possessions (handbags and stuff) unless you want a lot of kids...then...maybe I can guarantee that...

However,

What I can guarantee you is that I'll be a man after God's own heart--wrestling to be conformed to His image and meditating on His Word day and night.

I can guarantee you that Faith in His provision for our lives will become the income that will sustain our family finances (fun!).

I can guarantee you that I will do my best to live this fragile, limited-timed life, sold out for His Kingdom to be the Spiritual head of this family, praying and leading us to a dedicated life of fear and love to the Lord.

I can guarantee you that you will be very upset with me at times when I give 'x' amount of money away to some orphanage or missionary that really needs it, but later you'll see that it was for a God-given purpose and then you'll be very happy because your husband obeys the Lord and not man and maybe, just maybe, you'll reward me with a nice kiss (hehe).

I can guarantee you that I'll work hard in everything that I do.

I can guarantee you that you will prove me wrong when I am in the wrong and you'll feel really good about it (:D).

There are many things I can guarantee, but this is taking too long.

I'll just have to share with you everything in that moment when I'm down on one knee, hopefully with a beautiful ring (that I can afford) in my hand telling you that I love you while asking you that destined question that (hopefully) you will not fear and scurry away.

(I love my run-on sentences).

Please share the same vision? Pretty please?

Ok I'm done.

Psalm 23 by Joseph Sky Yoo

Surely goodness and lovingkindness will follow me...

Blessings everyone.

"Wisdom shouts in the street, She lifts her voice in the square" -Proverbs 1:20

"Among all human pursuits, the pursuit of wisdom is more perfect, more noble, more useful. And more full of joy . . .. It is more noble because through this pursuit of man especially approaches to alikeness of God who ‘made all things in wisdom” (Psalm 103.24). And since likeness is the cause of love, the pursuit of wisdom especially joins man to God in friendship . . .And so, in the name of the divine mercy, I have the confidence to embark upon the work of a wise man, eve though this may surpass my powers, and I have set myself the task of making known, as far as my limited powers will allow, the truth that the Catholic faith professes, and of setting aside the errors that are opposed to it. To use the words of Hilary, ‘I am aware that I owe this to God as the chief duty of my life, that my every word and sense may speak of Him.’”

-Thomas Aquinas

The Fruit of Humility: Content vs. Greatness

My name is Joseph Yoo and I serve in the college ministry called Living Stones at a church called Grace Ministries International. I guess you would call me a Praise Leader (though I really don't like that "title") for the ministry. Serving in such a manner for the past 5 years, pride becomes an issue being up on a pulpit with the limelight shining ever so brightly. In my early years, I visioned great visions. Here in this post I want to challenge what that word "great" means. I visioned and dreamed that I would be on stage alongside with Chris Tomlin, Matt Redman and the gang, leading thousands to singing praise songs of love and adoration to the One and only King of Kings--our Lord Jesus. I dream of writing praise songs that speak of correct Doctrine and Theology that will shape the multitudes and sharpen their spiritual walk with the Lord in regards to defending the faith. I have a vision to preach the Gospel to the multitudes seeing a vast wave come towards the spiritual altar receiving the Lord Jesus in faith, leading to Justification, Sanctification, Glorification and the Adoption as Children of God.

What is great? Here I want to give you the dialogue I had between my Loving Lord and myself.

Joseph: "When will You send me Lord? When will You use me for even greater things than these?"

Father, in His still small powerful voice: "Joseph, what is great? If I were to call you to set up chairs for the rest of your life in a small, 20 people large church, letting go of your desire for the praise ministry, and this was My will for you, will that be considered great in your eyes? What is great Joseph?"

(Silence filled the chambers in my heart. I was awestruck. I was humbled.)

I responded in fear and trembling: "My God...whatever it is that You call me to do according to Your will, that alone is great... Whether You call me to let go of the Praise Ministry and to set up chairs for a small, 20 people large church until the day I die, that is great in my eyes because, Oh Lord, Your will alone is great...because...You are great."

"Your will alone is great". How do we measure greatness? By what standard do we judge what is great? Is greatness measured by the number of people being served? Convicted? Led to repentance? Do we consider the work of Billy Graham greater than that of another unknown person who is serving a small church in some third world country, both obeying the will and call of God? Or, is greatness measured simply because our God is great and whatever He does, whatever He wills, is great because He is great? A redundant question, I know.

When we begin to understand that God's standard of judging what is good, just, righteous, love, is according to Himself and His own character because He is the highest, supreme standard of what is Good, Just, Righteous and Love, then we are able to see by what standard God deems as Great--Himself.

This conversation happened about 2 years ago; a conversation that would shape the rest of my life.

I still believe in dreaming and visioning big and great things; however, if I were to deem great dreams and visions based on the multitude, based on anything else rather than the supreme standard of what Great is, who is, my God, I feel that I have lost the meaning of what it means to vision and dream.

"If You Oh Lord will prevent me from serving You in any fashion or form, then my life will be in utter despair. As long as You will allow me to serve You in any way possible, my life will be content, my life will have purpose and meaning. May this be my full heart's desire oh Lord."

In order to dream and vision correctly, humility is required. Why? Because the fruit of humility, is being content with whatever God calls you to do. I have already charged that whatever God calls you to do IS great because He is great. The question remains: will you be content though His will may not seem to please your eye?

In conclusion...

Confessions Pt. 2: "The Flesh Counts For Nothing"

You're right. When we compare ourselves and our good deeds to the Righteousness of the Almighty God, all that amounts is self-righteousness; a "righteousness" that cannot merit the gift of eternal life, nor the taste of saving grace. In light of this comparison, what good is our righteousness? I utter the words of the Prophet Isaiah in 64:6, "For all of us have become like one who is unclean, and all our righteous deeds are like a filthy garment". What is this filthy garment Isaiah speaks of? In context, a filthy garment is-pardon the crude description-an unclean menstrual rag.

Now.

When we compare ourselves and our 'righteousness' to the Righteousness of the Almighty God, it is quite clear and evident that "all have fallen short of the glory of God" as the Apostle Paul states.

However.

When I compare myself to the fellow man who desires holiness and lives a life striving for such consecration; evidence found in a broken heart and a contrite spirit in a manner and state of repentance, cultivating the tasteful Fruit of the Holy Spirit, watered in tears of penitence, why can I not find myself in such a divine place? The arousal of the flesh taking opportunity in the Law of my God, I feel, overcomes me.

See now my lack of faith! See now the frail love that I have for You my loving Lord! Knowledge has burned in my mind that the flesh counts for nothing, yet my soul finds itself in anguish, at war, at constant battle with the dividing desires of my heart-a desire for holiness yet a desire to satisfy the flesh rather than the Words of my God!

"Wretched man that I am! Who will set me free from the body of this death? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!" - Romans 7:24-25

I may lose battle after battle, but victory over the war is guaranteed.

Your promises are so sure.

"Create in me a clean heart and renew a steadfast spirit within me...

Restore to me the joy of Thy salvation, and sustain me with a willing spirit"

Confessions Pt. 1 "The Frailty of the Human Heart"

Inspired by the admirable and humble Saint Augustine and his unrestrained confessions to the Lord God, our mercy, I write here only to confess the frailty of my human heart.

I can pinpoint so clearly when and how certain thoughts-thoughts that will not be disclosed hereto for I do not write of what it is, rather, what it has made me realize- have intruded the comforts of my life. Grief and sorrow have met with my soul and embraced so intimately as if they were of my kinship. I stand no longer acquainted with such encumbrances. On the contrary, such a relationship, so quickly developed, has left an unwanted fragrance that accompanies me wherever I go like the cigarette smoke on clothes and on fingertips. Grasped by this inescapable stench, I find myself led to a place of loneliness, not solitude. Within this loneliness, which should not be pitied over mind you, I will now begin to make my confession.

My God, when such pained emotions flood the territory of my being and in somber loneliness I find no comfort, it is not You I strongly desire for refuge. I confess the frailty of my human heart. Though I may recite psalm after psalm to myself and read your Word hoping that my countenance maybe lifted up, it is not You I desire so vehemently. Though I am convinced that You are my "God of refuge and strength; a very present help in trouble" (Ps 46) and how "I joyfully concur with the Law of God in the inner man..."; "I", however, "see a different law in the members of my body, waging war against the law of my mind, and making me a prisoner of the law of sin which is in my members" (Romans 7). What is it then that I desire so quickly? If not You Lord, than what? I confess and lay open my nakedness, my God to you and to others, ...that I desire a physical ear that would hear, a heartening upon one's lips, a touch that comforts body and soul, and eyes that gaze with such deep compassion. Face to face, soul to soul, and heart to heart...

Such is the frailty of my human heart! How it so quickly forgets the Creator to go so far into sinning by insulting Him! "He who planted the ear, does He not hear? He who formed the eye, does He not see?" (Psalm 94:9)! You who fashioned my innermost parts and woven the very strings of my heart with all of it's array of colors (Psalm 139). Forgive me Lord, my God...and "like a surgeon's knife, from Your secret stores, and with one blow [may] You cut away the rottenness" (Augustine, Confessions IX)...

Emotions are so cunningly conniving. To realize that a frail human heart would want to confide in another frail human heart, rather than the Heart Giver, throws my face down into a deep shame.

I am not saying that confiding in a brother or sister is a horrendous sin; however, in my confession, what I am trying to say is: if the desire to confide in the gift is greater than to the gift Giver, such is the result of lack of faith- and/or idol worship-, and in this context, an insult- and/or slap- to the face of the Almighty God (Daniel Yoon). God can use brothers and sisters to lift your countenance, so please, do not misunderstand/misinterpret what I am writing hereto of my human heart.

Oh how I fear the truths of Romans 1:18-32. So I pray Psalm 51 my God that you would "create in me a clean heart and renew a steadfast spirit within me".

My God, You are the one who searches the heart of a man and knows all things. You are the Creator, Designer, Maker, and Father. Give me strength and may I, and those who may empathize, find continual refuge in You.

Let the weak say "I am strong". Amen.

Refuge? A Guitar Chord? Absolutely.

I have been reading a lot of books as of late that are written in Old English; therefore, I prithee, may you not be so mindful of such relic-tasting discourse written hereto of solitude.

As long as I can remember, I've been quite accustomed to this word. Solitude. (Mmm) It begins to strike a minor chord within my soul. Not that this chord is meant to wrought a gloomy, defeatist sentiment as to bring in an ambience of fallen countenance; on the contrary, it brings a pleasantry of harmonies that must be appreciated when carefully examined. Appreciated? In every respect. May I provoke your mind to unfold this musical mystery? -How does one sound affect another sound when put together with another sound and another, et cetera?- The unveiling of such shall bring you your appreciation, or lack thereof- I pray not. The harmonies of this minor chord I have put in allegory. These notes, that make up such a beautiful pleasantry, are the miscellaneous Seasons of Life that have brought me to solitude and I shall, with all dexterity, do my best to convey such an impression upon the mind.

The Musical Note I call Three-Flat (3b):
June 30th, 2006 brought forth sorrow's misery with a covert vengeance. Unexpectedly be faced with a tragedy, the question, 'how will my vessel steer straight-ward in the currents of emotion", was not accounted for. Without going into too much detail, my older brother- my only brother- had passed away and "jumped the Great Boa". It is not mine intent to bring such an atmosphere sorrowful, so please bear with me wherein I may sound a bit cynical in the following excerpt:
-This musical note was one of much cynicism- in it's obvious nature- for this deleterious epoch of mine had it's malevolent effect on me. I was grievously vexed at sympathy being bombarded with phone calls and text messages. Empathy was my adversary in whom I utterly hated with a passion. Especially those who uttered the words, "I understand", notwithstanding no such tragedy ever befalling them, to which my blood would boil at the thought of those who so ignorantly would say they 'understood' what torment hath befallen my family; wherein, I would reply, "F*ck you", without hesitation (my apologies for the crudeness)-who wouldn't? In the frangible theology of my Faith and Love in Christ, and not desiring my ambivalence put to ruin precious friendships of mine, I uncoupled myself a yonder and found myself in a new season/note that hath brought me to solitude for fear of damaging relationships: Three-Flat. This note is of the utmost importance because without this note the Chord would never be a minor.

The other notes that I've been through thus far consists of different seasons such as the many...many Summers of Bachelorhood; Winters of Lonesome-Holidays; Springs of Hopeless-Romance; and the next note of equal utmost importance: the Root note which determines which minor Chord is being played:

The Musical Note I call RootWord:
- I have never in my life read the Word of God and studied His character as much as I have these past few years in seeking Him through these seasons. Knowing full well that Christ has taken off my filthy rags, clothed me in His Robe of Righteousness as He died there upon that Cross wearing what used to be my raiments...How could I not run after a Savior with such love and affection! While this note was being played, I took heed to the Psalmist's sayings: 31 & 71: In Thee, O Lord, I have taken refuge; Let me never be ashamed...for Thou art my rock and my fortress. And many more.

That word Refuge by definition means, "a condition of being safe or sheltered from pursuit, danger, or trouble".

Indeed I have taken Refuge in my God for within the shadow of His wing I find the warmth of His beating heart in which I am intimately prospering in knowledge of Him whereby such fruitfulness is seen by evidence of my heart being shaped like His. Solitude. Mmm, this minor Chord runs it's pleasantries within my soul. Nostalgic of the many seasons, destructive and merriment, that brought me thither; the Lord my Refuge found in such seasons of solitude; truly, I must say, He is the full conversation of this minor Chord to which I will now name:

The Musical Minor Chord I call REFUGEm7 (Refuge minor 7)

Jars of Clay- Amazing Grace

I grew this heart into a drifter
I never felt the roots I bare
I sold my sight, oh brother, sister
For a mountain of fool's gold, it's gone
Only God knows, God knows where

My soul was restless for redemption
My feet were lookin' for a place to stand
Well, I ain't got no life
And you know I ain't got no money
Just the faith of an empty hand

Amazing grace, I feel you coming up slowly now
Like the sun is risin', heat on my face
Oh love that keeps on shinin', don't let the shadow come
Ya know I gotta feel your healin' rays

I hitched a ride, I was a beggar
I had murder on my hands
I needed water to rinse these stains
But only blood could remove what's spillin'
And pardon me the blame


--How can one receive Christ if they do not see the need for Christ?--

My soul was restless for redemption

"But I replied, Lord I am a great, a very great Sinner: And He answered, My Grace is sufficient for thee. The I said, but Lord, what is Believing? And then I saw from that saying, He that cometh to me shall never hunger, and he that believeth on me shall never thirst that Believing and Coming was all one; and that he that came, that is, ran out in his heart and affections after Salvation by Christ, he indeed believed in Christ. Then water stood in mine eyes..."
"...for there never came thought into my heart before now, that showed me so the beauty of Jesus Christ: It made me love a Holy Life, and long to do something for the honour and glory of the name of the Lord Jesus; Yea, I thought that had I now a thousand gallons of blood in my body, I could spill it all for the sake of the Lord Jesus."


And you know I ain't got no money. Just the faith of an empty hand.

"You Can't Handle The Truth!" or Just Dancin' To The Humpty Hump

These past few months I find my mind wandering around with certain thoughts that keep me restless from sun rise to past zenith- restless where sleep is deprived of me. Not so much as an aimless wander as if trapped in an ever changing labyrinth, nay, but a wandering of such with an aim guided by series of what seems like interrogations at a simple thought. Perhaps I shall change the word 'wander' in exchange for 'wrestle'-just for this moment- yes, wrestle: Surely my mind has been wrestling causing me to be restless (wrest- and rest-, eh eh? ...nvm). Ahem. But for what? Before I dive into many nachos too deep to comprehend, I shall give a premise to put your mind at ease from this mental jargon.

Here it is: Predestination vs. Free-will, or, Predestination vs. Divine Election (that should be MORE than enough for a premise); Logic vs. Absolutism; Logical vs. Plausible; The Doctrine of Repentance, of Regeneration; and I shall stop there before you think my mind has fallen into a frenzy, in which, I would not disagree with you if you would think so.

For what? Because I want to know. For I have been taught and so I have believed; however, some kind of impulse within me begs the questions, "Why do I believe? What reasons can I give for the things in which I believe?" This impulse so familiar, so innate that I am not just acquainted, rather, I am intimate with it as the murdered is with it's murder weapon. Impulse. I shall name it something. She will be called Desire in all respect.

Desire is she who guides my mind in it's wandering on her Riverboat of Questions finding rest, or lack thereof, at the Dock of Answers. I could only hope that I am on a stream of the river that will lead me to moist earth- preferably- to find tranquility and peace of mind; however, if it be that the stream may lead me to a vast ocean, I may conclude that Desire hath still brought me to a place of tranquility and peace of mind. How so? On the former side, Desire has been appeased with an answer and so follows my mind. On the latter side, I understand that some mysteries remain unrevealed and are only revealed in the age to come- Heaven- and this brings me comfort. What have I to lose? I find the only difficulty in all of this is, "How long is the river that Desire rows me through and does she tire not?" For I get weary.

Enough with the allegory.

There are people who are so desirous to know an answer and with all their tenaciousness will hop on board a riverboat as on a journey; notwithstanding that the end of the river is unknown, they simply row on. Many people know me and how opinionated I can be. Call me an arrogant bastard if you want; regardless, I'll do my best to articulate with gentleness and listen with humility. The reason for that is simply because I want to know. Maybe not to the extreme of these 'desirous people', but enough to simply get my mind around a series of Q & A's. Simply. That word seems so alien to me at this present moment. The very reason why (if you've read down this far) I went off on this mental jargon is simply this:

I feel that the thought process of my mind has become so complex, that I have lost the beauty in simplicity. Complex as in because of this desire to know what, or Whom, it is that I study, I find myself in frustration and restlessness; nevertheless, I am comforted and blessed at the discoveries of this knowledge-for knowledge is precious if applied and not idle- and this makes me want to know more (of Him and His Word). And the cycle goes on. However, as of this moment, being so wearied from the premise, I wonder at the blissfulness of ignorance: simply, not knowing and what calm it would bring to which I perceive that this 'wonder' flows against the knowledge of the Lord that I continue to receive- for He is infinite and so good as to reveal Himself to me in grace- which has burned within me this desire to progress and grow in love for the Lord God TO WHICH NOW I will say to blissful ignorance:

To hell with you.

//////

If you've never read Haruki Murakami's unbelievable creative works, YOU ARE MISSING OUT! One of my favorite books that he's written is called Norwegian Wood. It's being made into a film right now :) :) :). If you'd like a copy to read it, I can let you borrow mine. He writes so...so...ugh...I can't even think of a word that adequately fits him.

He's descriptive. Emotional. Colorful. Amazing.

Good night.

Cry Me A River or Inception F'ed With My Mind

I had a dream last night. I was lying in bed and this particular woman, whom I recognize, parallel from me, lay there as if benumbed to the chestnut colored blanket we shared. She scurried to me ever so slowly with complete stealth, as to go unnoticed, as if to runaway from the night's cold hoping to find shelter in the warmth of my body; however, in my dream, I did not recollect the night air diminished to the point of shivers, nor elevated to the point of perspiration- it was, for lack of a better word, perfect (I shall leave the interpretation up to you).

Perfect. What can truly be perfect? I hate that word sometimes. Especially in this context because that moment and everything in it was perfect. We shared thoughts and knew where we wanted to be- right next to each other . She wrapped her left arm over my body as I tucked my left arm under her head and then the sweetest moment happened.. She placed her right hand on my chest, turned her face with eyes closed, and rested her ears upon my heart. She smirked. She began to listen. She tried to match the beating heart with hers as if that were possible. It was indeed romantic.

It was perfect. Oh how I hate that word with a passion right now. Why? Because in that moment, 3/4 of my mind lay ignorantly in blissful subconscious thought while the other quarter wages a war cry: "DON'T WAKE UP TO REALITY. PLEASE DON'T WAKE UP."

The tragedy in all of this is knowing that within your dream you begin to know you are dreaming. That's when the inevitable happens- you wake up.

To myself: Get a hold of yourself and drink a coffee or, as Justin Timberlake once said, go "cry me a river 'cause she's gone *hit falsettos here*"

To that woman: are you listening?

Probably not.

Celibacy Is A Spiritual Gift or If Chuck Norris Got Married, I Should Too.

To My Future Wife,
wherever you are and whatever your name is,
here's a few things on my mind:

Does this picture give you a sense of peace, inspiration, freedom, adventure, or, all of the above? I've cherished this picture since I was a freshman in High School.



I hope you like music because I'm trying to be an awesome musician.
I hope you like ping pong because seminarians are suppose to be good at that. I guess you don't have to play ping pong, but like watching ping pong, at least, me playing it.
Seminary...I hope you don't mind if (ugh...when) I become a pastor.

I hope you can tolerate awkwardness because many...many (unfortunately I'll have to add another 'many'), many times I'll try and be funny or cast a joke from the left field and, to my demise, fail epically.

I hope I can make you laugh.

I hope I don't regret publicly posting this on my blogspot.

Loving The Hell Out Of People or Kraft Easy Mac Ain't So Easy Is It?

I am mantled with Love's call. Boldness and courage are prescribed as a cure for a capricious, timid and perishable heart. However, it first takes a perturbed, uneasy, unsettled stomach, mislaying an acrid taste in your mouth, to accept the fact that the needle must puncture your skin; all of which, I, metaphorically, call a 'step of faith'. Yes, Faith. First, believing that God's love is unstoppable and secondly, which is the hardest part and, ideally, should come naturally in my opinion, taking (or embracing, speaking, et cetera, whichever word you desire to place there) that step into a realm where you fear an unexpected paradigm shift not knowing what the outcome may be; as well as, having sustained the Truth that God is perfect, that God is love, therefore, His love is perfect.

Once you're in, you might as well put your cards on the table and go all in. In that moment, I sincerely believe boldness and courage takes over because God's love is bold and courageous, hence, it's unstoppable.

"Easier said than done". Well, who the hell said that Faith is 'always' easy?

The Pews Of A Church or Are There Lazy Boy Couches In Heaven?

One of the great fears of being a pastor and/or shepherd, in my humble opinion, is the consumption of time over the ministry, more specifically, may I add, the church in whom you are shepherding. A word like negligence is erected atop of this great fear like how a pastor is elevated on a Sunday's pulpit, ironically speaking. A word like priority seems variable due to the cause of micromanaged meeting after meeting; people's pained emotions almost demanding prayer; counseling the disdained from unsettling issues from past times; speaking on a Sunday's pulpit without fail-let alone the time and energy it takes to prepare such a sermon; and the list can go on.

I'm not here undermining a pastoral work, nor am I claiming these few listed things to be such an encumbrance as to nullify the importance of it all. Quickly now, what I am trying to convey is the simple fact that serving a congregation with such diligence and passion-all to be of great virtue- can lead to neglecting one's own family, spouse, other engagements, celebrations, and, dare I say, for all one knows, personal hygiene.

Priority may seem to be lost when mantled with love's call.

Dear Pastors, I commend, respect, admire, and honor your services before the church.

Aside from personal neglect of priority such as family or other engagements, I personally feel that this great fear comes from an ignorantly deserted precedence that super exceeds everything else that was listed above.

"If a pastor is far more concerned about the pews of a church being filled than the seats in Heaven, shame on you"- Reverend Benny Hinn.

As far as I'm concerned, rather, with absolute more importance, how the very Word of God is concerned, there are no pastors, or anyone that holds a "church title" for that matter, exempt from witnessing their faith in Jesus Christ; nor does a Sunday's act of service justify such a ridiculous notion of exemption: that is just pure laziness if one would use such a pretext.

*sigh* Who would really want to be a Pastor after counting such a great cost? I pray that when that moment in time comes for me, I'll be able to stand tall on the Rock who is immovable; rest in Him whom my refuge lies; and be daring enough to obey love's call and be compelled to compassion like none has ever seen.

In the end when it's all said and done, the fat lady has sung, the church is raptured, and Christ has returned, I hope there's a lazy boy couch engraved with my name, stamped: "Good and Faithful Servant" next to Jesus watching a replay of creation in Heaven for me.

Reality Check.

My Faith or The Temperance of an Alcoholic

I once held the belief of there being no absolutes in life, rather, stood on the point that everything is relative. What a self-refuting mind I've once ignorantly had. Humbling to dwell on the past? Most Definitely. Today, I hold to the truth that the Lord God is Jehovah Jireh: "The Lord our Provider". The name comes from Genesis 22:14 in the context when God provided a ram in replacement of Isaac for Abraham's sacrifice. I also hold to the truth that anxiety over financial necessity, not 'want', may I clarify, is the outcome of little faith: Matthew 6:30.

Judging from the contents that proceed out from my lips on a Sunday's stage should speak of great faith, peace, and freedom. Then why is it at this very moment anxiety begins to encrust my mind like an army of ants over a corpse of a grasshopper?

Perhaps it's like my faith in God, presently, is like the temperance of an alcoholic in a dive bar; however, as oxymoronic as that is, it still doesn't make sense. And it is precisely that.

Reality Check.