James 4:1-10 (The Message)
Get Serious
1-2 Where do you think all these appalling wars and quarrels come from? Do you think they just happen? Think again. They come about because you want your own way, and fight for it deep inside yourselves. You lust for what you don't have and are willing to kill to get it. You want what isn't yours and will risk violence to get your hands on it.
2-3 You wouldn't think of just asking God for it, would you? And why not? Because you know you'd be asking for what you have no right to. You're spoiled children, each wanting your own way.
4-6 You're cheating on God. If all you want is your own way, flirting with the world every chance you get, you end up enemies of God and his way. And do you suppose God doesn't care? The proverb has it that "he's a fiercely jealous lover." And what he gives in love is far better than anything else you'll find. It's common knowledge that "God goes against the willful proud; God gives grace to the willing humble."
7-10 So let God work his will in you. Yell a loud no to the Devil and watch him scamper. Say a quiet yes to God and he'll be there in no time. Quit dabbling in sin. Purify your inner life. Quit playing the field. Hit bottom, and cry your eyes out. The fun and games are over. Get serious, really serious. Get down on your knees before the Master; it's the only way you'll get on your feet.
But Lord . .
You know me, you know how I am made, how I think, what I love, what moves me, the wounds I’ve worn, and still wear. You give me the choice to live above the years of abuse, perpetrated against me, and by me. Intentional, or more often . . not.
I quake at the thought of all those times I was so sure I was right, certain that my decisions were of You, and yet they seemed, in the long run, not to be so. Quake even more at the times I so clearly did not even try to choose you, but choose what felt good.
An old friend quietly commented that we create best out of Chaos, and not out of Law. It’s the hard times, the hurting, sad and lonely times that provoke the best of art, poetry, storytelling . . love. I don’t want to believe that, Lord, since You are the Master Creator . . the exemplifier of all the very best. Yet, in those times of basking in your joy, I simply find zero creativity.
You gave me whatever small talents I have . . how many times and how many different voices have told me that I “write beautifully” . . yet I have no idea what should inspire me now . . now that so many doors have been soundly closed.
Alright, I admit, I’m running on low today. Tired, hurting. Choosing is harder today. But I do still choose You. Brush away the tears, if you would?
Get Serious
1-2 Where do you think all these appalling wars and quarrels come from? Do you think they just happen? Think again. They come about because you want your own way, and fight for it deep inside yourselves. You lust for what you don't have and are willing to kill to get it. You want what isn't yours and will risk violence to get your hands on it.
2-3 You wouldn't think of just asking God for it, would you? And why not? Because you know you'd be asking for what you have no right to. You're spoiled children, each wanting your own way.
4-6 You're cheating on God. If all you want is your own way, flirting with the world every chance you get, you end up enemies of God and his way. And do you suppose God doesn't care? The proverb has it that "he's a fiercely jealous lover." And what he gives in love is far better than anything else you'll find. It's common knowledge that "God goes against the willful proud; God gives grace to the willing humble."
7-10 So let God work his will in you. Yell a loud no to the Devil and watch him scamper. Say a quiet yes to God and he'll be there in no time. Quit dabbling in sin. Purify your inner life. Quit playing the field. Hit bottom, and cry your eyes out. The fun and games are over. Get serious, really serious. Get down on your knees before the Master; it's the only way you'll get on your feet.
But Lord . .
You know me, you know how I am made, how I think, what I love, what moves me, the wounds I’ve worn, and still wear. You give me the choice to live above the years of abuse, perpetrated against me, and by me. Intentional, or more often . . not.
I quake at the thought of all those times I was so sure I was right, certain that my decisions were of You, and yet they seemed, in the long run, not to be so. Quake even more at the times I so clearly did not even try to choose you, but choose what felt good.
An old friend quietly commented that we create best out of Chaos, and not out of Law. It’s the hard times, the hurting, sad and lonely times that provoke the best of art, poetry, storytelling . . love. I don’t want to believe that, Lord, since You are the Master Creator . . the exemplifier of all the very best. Yet, in those times of basking in your joy, I simply find zero creativity.
You gave me whatever small talents I have . . how many times and how many different voices have told me that I “write beautifully” . . yet I have no idea what should inspire me now . . now that so many doors have been soundly closed.
Alright, I admit, I’m running on low today. Tired, hurting. Choosing is harder today. But I do still choose You. Brush away the tears, if you would?
