Narrative that presents genuine personal transparency--The earth is the Lord's

My assignment was to write a story from my own life. I was to use genuine personal transparency. When are we more transparent than when we are sharing our moments with the Lord? I recorded a moment when I grasped a spiritual truth.


The Earth is the Lord’s

When I came to the Lord, I had an easy time believing in darkness. I was twenty-four, so I had lived long enough to discover that life can be frightening.

However, I couldn’t quite believe that love was available. Years later, I still struggle to believe that God values me.

And yet I realize that I can only love others to the extent that I have a revelation of how much God loves me.

Recently, I decided to make it a matter of daily prayer. Each morning, I ask God to teach me about His love. Today, I received my first answer to these prayers.

I was reading my Bible when the Word came. It was a foundational truth that I read in Psalm 24:1, which says, “God owns the earth.”

Those who pride themselves on profound, mature theology will no doubt find it amusing that I am stirred by this little verse, but it seems complex and astonishing to me.

John 12:31 calls Satan the “prince of this world.” II Corinthians 4:4 calls him “the god of this world.” He is an evil genius, and in addition to being ruler of demons, he is ruler of our present world system. However, his position of authority, which he has held since Adam’s day, does not make him all-powerful. In fact, John 12:32 says that when Jesus is lifted up, He is able to attract “all men,” in spite of Satan’s efforts to deceive and dominate.

Furthermore, Satan may endeavor to persuade us that he owns the world, but he is a temporary resident. God still owns the earth.

In Exodus 9:29, Moses tells the proud and powerful pharaoh of Egypt that God owns the earth, and in Psalm 24:1, David sings, “The earth is the Lord’s.” The Lord Himself declares it in Psalm 50:12 when He says, “The world and its fullness are mine.”

Nowhere in Scripture does He say that He will relinquish the earth to his enemies, even for a moment. When the Antichrist is ruling the earth, God will be in control, actively opposing him.

What comfort this brings!

If God has command of enormous mountains, powerful oceans, tectonic crustal plates, and vast expanses, He’s able to look after me. If He is able to maintain His authority in the midst of the Antichrist's maneuvering, He is able to manage my life.

I asked the Lord to teach me about love. He began His instruction by assuring me that He is in control of everything.

Dialogue--The Samaritan Woman at the Well

I thought I was retelling a Bible story, but my literary mentor told me that I had written a dialogue. I wrote it in 2004, but I remember how much I enjoyed the work.





The Samaritan Woman at the Well
John 4


Stern faced, ashamed, and bitterly disappointed, she climbed alone up the rocky hill toward the well. With one hand, she gathered her white veil around her troubled face. With the other, she carried a large, empty pot.

It was the sixth hour of the day—noontime. Not the usual time for a Samaritan woman to fill her water pots on a hot summer’s day. Sunrise and sunset--that’s when the women of Sychar gathered at the well.

And most of them went to another well, which was on the other side of the village and closer to the town.

She had chosen this hour deliberately, and she had intentionally chosen this well—Jacob’s well. She wanted to draw water without encountering anyone.

From a distance, she saw him sitting on the stone wall that encircled the well. He slumped, an exhausted traveler.

She approached him cautiously. Occasionally, ill-intentioned men waited by the well at this time of day. They hoped to arrange an hour of pleasure with an errant Samaritan woman who had come for water at a time when respectable women were at home.

As she walked closer, she could see the fringe on the bottom of his robe, which told her he was a Jew. There was great hatred between his people and hers, and she felt blood rushing to her downcast face as resentment welled up in her chest.

However, she didn’t expect him to say anything. Typically, Jewish men did not talk to women when they were in public. When he spoke, she was startled.

“Please give me a drink of water,” he said in a Galilean accent that confirmed he was a Jew. His choice of words and tone of voice communicated urgency.

“Why are you, a Jew, asking me, a Samaritan woman, for a drink?” she asked, glancing uneasily at him.

She was guarded, but she was also intrigued.

He said, "If you knew the generosity of God and who I am, you would be asking me for a drink, and I would give you a free gift--fresh, living water."

She wondered what he meant by “fresh, living water.” She’d never heard of it.

“Sir,” she said, a hint of scorn in her voice, “this well is deep, and you have no bucket. How are you going to get this living water?”

What was the look that flickered across his face? Compassion? And why, in his presence, did she feel vaguely, uncomfortably aware of her sinfulness?

“Are you greater than our ancestor, Jacob?” she asked. Her tone was still challenging. “Tradition says that he gave this well to us, and he used to drink from it himself. How can you offer better water than he, his sons, and his cattle enjoyed?”

The man replied, "Everyone who drinks this water will get thirsty again. Anyone who drinks the water I give will never thirst--not ever. The water I give will be an artesian spring within, gushing fountains of endless life."

The man’s conversation was a reference to spiritual life, but she didn’t understand, so she said, “Please give me this water so that I won’t have to come all the way from town to this well and draw water from it again!”

At this, the man said, “Go, call your husband. Come back here with him.”

Her curiosity changed to embarrassment. She bit her lower lip and backed away. “I have no husband,” she said.

“That was nicely put. ‘I have no husband.’ You’ve had five husbands, and now you’re living with a man you’re not married to. Sure enough, you spoke the truth.”

She discovered, to her amazement, that he was able to describe every detail of her life.

“I perceive that you are a prophet,” she replied. She knew that he could not possibly have learned these things through ordinary means.

Samaritans believed that there were no prophets after Moses. However, they believed that God would one day raise up a great Prophet, a Messiah, who would be like Moses. In fact, they looked for this Messiah.

She began to wonder, “Is this the One we’ve been waiting for?”

However, she did not want him to expose more details about her chaotic personal life, so she tried to change the conversation.

Centuries before, her ancestors had built a temple at Mt. Gerizim. Here, they accepted the Jewish Pentateuch as their Bible and offered sacrifices according to the Mosaic code. This temple had rivaled the temple in Jerusalem and had produced a great controversy between Samaritans and Jews.

She wanted his opinion regarding the debate. However, she was much more interested in diverting his attention from her immorality.

“Please tell me this,” she said. “Our ancestors worshiped God here, at Mt. Gerizim, but you Jews insist that Jerusalem is the only place for worship. Isn’t that correct?”

"Believe me, woman. A time is coming. In fact, it’s already here. In that season, it won’t matter what you’re called. It won’t matter whether you worship the Father here or in Jerusalem.

“Now, when you worship, you are guessing. You’re still in the dark. On the other hand, we who are Jews worship in the clear light of day. God’s way of salvation—the Messianic salvation that you seek--is made available through the Jews.”

She set down her water pot. Eyes lowered, she listened intently. She felt that his words had created a cord that tugged at her.

“The hour comes,” he said. “In fact, it’s already here. It is the hour of true worshippers.”

His words seemed to be alive. With each moment, they grew in size and intensity.

“The true worshippers shall worship the Father in spirit and in truth,” he said. Softly, he added, “The Father is seeking such people to worship Him.” She knew that he was inviting her to become one of these worshippers.

She said, “I know that the Messiah is coming. He is called the Christ, the Anointed One. Surely, when he comes, he will explain these things.”

He said to her, “I am He.”

His words were so powerful that she struggled to stay on her feet.

A group of men arrived. They were his acquaintances, his followers. They had been in the village, purchasing food. They looked intently at her but did not say anything.

Leaving behind her water pot, she departed quickly. Into the town she ran.

“Come, see a man who told me all things I ever did,” she said urgently to the townspeople she encountered. “He knows me inside out--even the shameful things. Could this be the Messiah? Surely this is the Christ, the Anointed One. Come out to the well. Perhaps He can take away your doubts.”

In the small town, word spread quickly. “Her demeanor has changed!” some said. “She actually claims that she has put her failures in the past. And she says that a man waits at Jacob’s well who is a spokesman from God.”

“Notorious as she is, how could an outsider know the details of her life? Perhaps this man really does have the special powers she talks about,” said others.

The townspeople were skeptical, but the woman’s statements intrigued them. The entire village walked up the hill toward the well in small, confounded groups.

Some received Him because of the woman’s testimony. Others embraced him because of the words He preached. They invited him to remain with them, and he stayed for two days, teaching and paying kind attention to them.

To the north lay Galilee, where the Messiah had grown up and where most of His miracles took place. He had a large following in Galilee, but the Galileans’ faith was weak, and the people in his hometown rejected Him.

Judea lay to the south, the home of Jerusalem and the Temple Mount. Jesus, the Christ, had followers in Judea, too. However, he faced persecution from the Judean religious leaders, who wanted to protect their power and influence by eliminating Him.

Between Galilee and Judea lay Samaria, the region of “the mongrels,” the despised. And the Samaritan woman, who had been rejected by her own people, was more reviled than most.

John Darby calls the Samaritans a “mingled race of strangers.” By Jewish standards, they were the least of the least. And yet Jesus found faith among them, a genuine understanding of the promised Messiah. Many of them became His followers.

More than two years before Pentecost, when Peter announced Jesus’ deity to the Jews, revival came to Samaria, and it began with the testimony of the woman at the well. “He is the Messiah,” she said. In a foreshadowing of the great move of Christianity into the Gentile world, the Samaritans embraced and acknowledged the Lord.

References:
Mark Perkins. “The Samaritan Woman.” Front Range Bible Church; Denver, Co.
http://gracenotes.info/topics/SamaritanWoman.html.

Wayne Jackson. “Jesus and the Samaritan Woman.” 1 November 2000
<>.

Finis Jennings Dake. Dake’s Annotated Reference Bible, King James Version. Dake Bible Sales. Lawrenceville, Ga. © 1969, 1989.

Cfaith Bible study tools. BibleGateway.com. Message Bible. http://www.cfaith.com/FAITH/bible_gateway/1,3991,,00.asp.

Cfaith Bible study tools. Crosswalk.com. New American Standard Bible.
< http://www.cfaith.com/FAITH/bible_crosswalk/1,4034,,00.asp

Monologue--One More Night with the Frogs

While growing up, my son Ronald attended a lot of church services, but the sermon he remembers is “One More Night with the Frogs.” It comes from Exodus 8 and includes a powerful king, a cautious prophet, and millions of frogs.

At the beginning of the story, the Israelites are trapped in Egypt’s underclass, enslaved by a powerful king. God’s word to Egypt’s ruler is “Let my people go.” The king is determined to prevent the Israelites from leaving Egypt, so his response to God is No.

Ten plagues come, one by one. They are God’s miraculous signs and wonders, designed to convince Egypt’s Pharaoh to release the Israelites. By the time the tenth plague is carried out, Pharaoh lets God’s people go.

Exodus 8:1-15 tells the story of the second plague, which probably would have done it for me. In Exodus 8, God says, “I will smite all thy borders with frogs.” NLT Study Bible describes them as a plague of frogs that come out of the Nile River, enter the houses of the people and government officials, and swarm into the bedroom of the king. They cover everything, including Pharaoh’s bed.

It is hard to sleep in a bed full of croaking frogs, so Pharaoh summons Aaron and Moses, who are God’s representatives. Pharaoh says, “Plead with the Lord to take the frogs away from me and my people. I will let your people go so they can offer sacrifices to the Lord.”

“Explain yourself to me,” Moses replies. “You have the honor of telling me when you want the frogs removed. You set the time. Tell me when you want me to pray for you, your officials, and your people. Then you and your houses will be rid of the frogs. They will remain only in the Nile River.”

I don’t know about you, but if frogs were in my water pots, pantry, closet, bathroom, and bed, I would say, “NOW!!!! Pray for us now.”

I suppose that the Pharaoh is too proud to reveal his desperation. Maybe he wants to come up with a plan to hold onto his slaves. Perhaps he hopes that if he delays, the frogs will go away. Whatever the reason, he says, “Do it tomorrow.” He chooses to spend one more night with the frogs.

Lessons are obvious. One of them is the human tendency to delay, which often brings terrible consequences. “Tomorrow,” we often say.

I come to my first blog posting—a monologue in which I endeavor to illustrate the human tendency to say, “Tomorrow, Lord. I’ll do it tomorrow. I want to spend one more night with the frogs.”




Middle aged man sitting alone at a small kitchen table, drinking his morning coffee. Stage is dark except for the spotlight shining on him.

I tolerated a lot, and it’s no wonder I refused to go to church. Anyone in my position would have done the same thing, I believe. I’m sure God understood.

In all fairness, I should say that my children were never the problem. Certainly, they talked to me sometimes. “Dad, we’re praying for you,” they would say. “Dad, we’re concerned about your eternal destiny.” But they didn’t try to shove religion down my throat. My wife, on the other hand, was always nagging me. “Quit drinking. Set a good example. Go to church. Commit your life to the Lord,” she would say. “Don’t put it off,” she would warn. She didn’t know when to stop.

Sunday mornings were usually tense. My wife would have a meltdown when I popped the top on a cold one instead of getting dressed for church.

When she was angry, she didn’t yell, but her silences were like sonic booms, and her angry glances were powerful. I wonder if she practiced those hostile glares in the mirror before she used them on me.

I made sure they never produced the result she was hoping for.

Now that I look back, going to church as a family meant a lot to her, and I guess it wouldn’t have killed me to go with her now and then. But I didn’t want to be marched off to church like a naughty little boy whose mother was worried about appearances.

Besides, I worked hard. All week, I bore the burden of supporting a family. On Sunday, I needed to have a few beers and relax. The last thing I needed was a crowded church and a long sermon about guilt and iniquity.

And let’s face it. Those preachers probably had a few guilty pleasures of their own.

At least, that’s what I always told myself.

Maybe I was rationalizing, but it was the way I justified my decision to stay away from church. I argued that churchgoers really were no different from everyone else. They were simply a bunch of hypocrites who knew how to put on a show.

I never saw the divorce coming. I thought my wife would stay married to me forever, I suppose. “For better or worse,” like she vowed on our wedding day.

Oh, well. My children tell me she’s happy, and I don’t think she was very happy when she was living with me. She’s married to a “fellow believer.” That’s what my children call him, anyway. From what I hear, she spends half her time going on mission trips with this guy. Africa. Asia. Doesn’t sound like much fun to me. But she always talked about traveling. At one time, she probably hoped she’d go on mission trips with me.

People say that no marriage dies suddenly. Instead, marriages die slowly, piece by piece. That’s what happened to my marriage, I believe. Little by little, unresolved conflicts chipped away at my wife’s commitment to me.

Oh, sure. I was unfaithful at times. But when men stray, aren’t wives supposed to look the other way? Isn’t that one of the unwritten rules of successful marriages?

Unfortunately, my wife didn’t see things that way.

She always expected a heartfelt apology. In fact, the word she used was “repent.” And I don’t think a husband should be expected to come to his wife with hat in hand, begging to be taken back in. I think that women should simply forgive their husbands for weaknesses of the flesh and move on.

We have “no fault” auto insurance, after all. Seems to me we should have “no fault” marriages.

But seriously-—I thought my wife knew that I loved her. I thought she understood that she occupied first place in my life.

That was the problem, I think. She never understood my heart.

For example, she always assumed that I was a sinner, but I grew up in church. I have Christian beliefs. I know what the Bible says. It’s just that my beliefs are a private affair that I keep to myself. I’m not willing to display them outwardly.

And all this praising God and raising hands. I don’t like public demonstrations. They seem phony to me. They make me uncomfortable.

My daughter was talking to me the other day. She quoted a Bible verse that says, “The curse causeless shall not come.” When I asked her to explain what she meant, she said that the man who disobeys God can expect to have a lot of heartache and frustration in life.

That sooner or later, if I want to go to heaven, I’ll have to follow God’s plan and obey His commands. But God is a loving Father, isn’t he? He’s willing to give me some space.

He knows my heart, after all. He knows that, deep inside, I believe in Him. I don’t think He will ignore my prayers when I decide to reach out to Him. But I’m a stubborn man, I’ll admit. I need to choose the time and place. I’m sure He sympathizes with that.

Let’s see. (Looks at watch.) It’s eight thirty. If this Sunday is like most others, my daughter will call me in a few minutes and invite me to church. And if this Sunday is like most others, I will turn her down.

But she’s probably right. At some point, I’ll have to get everything worked out with the Lord.

Of course, I still have plenty of time. God is patient, and He will wait for me.

I don’t think I’ll go to church this morning. There are two or three crucial NFL games being broadcast on cable today. I’d rather stay home, have a few beers, and watch football on TV.

But I know that I can’t put off this Christianity thing forever.

Maybe next week. I don’t want to go to church today, but maybe next week I’ll go.


Black Out as man sips coffee and reads newspaper.