Jean Coleman's Blog - Posts Tagged "jesus"
THE JESUS BUTTON
I had finished my shopping and was heading toward the cash register in the Christian bookstore when I heard the Lord speaking very distinctly within my heart. There was no mistaking His voice. "I want you to buy a Jesus button," He instructed me.
A Jesus button? I couldn't imagine why God would want me to make such a purchase, but I learned long ago not to question His motives. If He wanted me to buy a Jesus button then I would certainly comply. Walking through the aisles, I finally located a large box containing dozens of buttons in all colors and sizes. I rummaged through the box trying to find just the right one. It was difficult to make a choice because of the large selection available.
Finally I decided upon a very small button costing only thirty-five cents. It was light blue and matched my coat. There was no message, but only a simple gold cross in the center of the button. If I was to wear a religious button, this discrete one was certainly the most acceptable of the lot.
And then I heard God speak again. "No, not that one! Buy the red one!"
I once again looked into the box and then I saw it! It was the largest button I had ever seen, nearly the size of a saucer. To make matters worse, it was blood red and in big white letters it boldly stated, "Jesus changed my life!"
"Lord," I protested, "I can't wear that button! I'm a dignified, middle-aged woman! Surely you don't mean THAT button."
All sorts of arguments rose up within me, but I knew they wouldn't do any good. God had made His selection and it was the big red button. Now it was up to me to make my choice. I could chose to obey or I could walk out of the store empty-handed. I chose to obey.
I went over to the counter and paid the clerk for the button, a total of $4.95 plus tax. As she reached for a bag, I interrupted her. "That's all right. I don't need a bag. I'm going to wear it!"
She looked at me like I was crazy. "You're going to wear THAT button?" As she watched, I quickly pinned it onto my light blue coat, thankful that there was no mirror handy. I left the store hoping that I could get to my car without meeting anyone that I knew.
That was the beginning of a humbling experience as I dealt with self-consciousness, pride, rejection and a whole gamut of other assorted emotions. The button was a stumbling block not only to me, but also to everyone who confronted it on my coat. It left people speechless and no one even mentioned the bright red button.
As the weeks turned into months, I actually learned to like the button. Obedience felt good. Sometimes I would even forget I was wearing it until I noticed the expression on someone's face as we passed on the sidewalk.
And then three months later the miracle took place. A young woman in the grocery store noticed the button and suddenly asked "How did Jesus change your life?"
As I told her about the love of God through Jesus Christ, she received the gospel message and asked Jesus to come into her heart. Why? Because I was willing to make a fool of myself and wear a big red Jesus button. God's ways are not our ways, but His ways are always best and never cease to amaze me? Does anyone want a "used" Jesus button? I have one available.
A Jesus button? I couldn't imagine why God would want me to make such a purchase, but I learned long ago not to question His motives. If He wanted me to buy a Jesus button then I would certainly comply. Walking through the aisles, I finally located a large box containing dozens of buttons in all colors and sizes. I rummaged through the box trying to find just the right one. It was difficult to make a choice because of the large selection available.
Finally I decided upon a very small button costing only thirty-five cents. It was light blue and matched my coat. There was no message, but only a simple gold cross in the center of the button. If I was to wear a religious button, this discrete one was certainly the most acceptable of the lot.
And then I heard God speak again. "No, not that one! Buy the red one!"
I once again looked into the box and then I saw it! It was the largest button I had ever seen, nearly the size of a saucer. To make matters worse, it was blood red and in big white letters it boldly stated, "Jesus changed my life!"
"Lord," I protested, "I can't wear that button! I'm a dignified, middle-aged woman! Surely you don't mean THAT button."
All sorts of arguments rose up within me, but I knew they wouldn't do any good. God had made His selection and it was the big red button. Now it was up to me to make my choice. I could chose to obey or I could walk out of the store empty-handed. I chose to obey.
I went over to the counter and paid the clerk for the button, a total of $4.95 plus tax. As she reached for a bag, I interrupted her. "That's all right. I don't need a bag. I'm going to wear it!"
She looked at me like I was crazy. "You're going to wear THAT button?" As she watched, I quickly pinned it onto my light blue coat, thankful that there was no mirror handy. I left the store hoping that I could get to my car without meeting anyone that I knew.
That was the beginning of a humbling experience as I dealt with self-consciousness, pride, rejection and a whole gamut of other assorted emotions. The button was a stumbling block not only to me, but also to everyone who confronted it on my coat. It left people speechless and no one even mentioned the bright red button.
As the weeks turned into months, I actually learned to like the button. Obedience felt good. Sometimes I would even forget I was wearing it until I noticed the expression on someone's face as we passed on the sidewalk.
And then three months later the miracle took place. A young woman in the grocery store noticed the button and suddenly asked "How did Jesus change your life?"
As I told her about the love of God through Jesus Christ, she received the gospel message and asked Jesus to come into her heart. Why? Because I was willing to make a fool of myself and wear a big red Jesus button. God's ways are not our ways, but His ways are always best and never cease to amaze me? Does anyone want a "used" Jesus button? I have one available.
THE LANGUAGE OF LOVE
Several years ago we spent seven weeks in India and I was often frustrated by my inability to communicate with others while we were there. One afternoon we were informed by a pastor that he would like us to visit a young couple in the church whose only child, a boy of fourteen months, had died the previous day. One day the youngster had been healthy and happy and then overnight he had developed dysentery. Four days later, he was gone. They had buried their child that morning.
I wondered how I could possibly comfort this grieving family, especially when I learned that no interpreter would be going to the house with us. No one there could speak a word of English and we certainly couldn't communicate with them in Telugu. The language barrier loomed up before me like a formidable wall. How do you scale the heights of heartbreak when there are no words to provide a foothold?
The child's parents lived in a tiny hut with a thatched roof and a dirt floor, but as I stood in the doorway of that simple dwelling, I sensed the presence of God filling the place. The Lord certainly understood the pain of losing a son for He had also watched as His only begotten Son died on Calvary. And now He longed to comfort this young couple through us and to assure them of His eternal love.
As the child's mother began to walk across the room toward me, her anguish and pain was evident. Never have I felt so totally inadequate. What did I have to give this grieving woman? I couldn't even speak one word to convey my sympathy. And then the Lord spoke into my heart, "You can speak to her in the language of love, a language that requires no words."
As the young woman moved toward me, I opened my arms wide and received her into them. I embraced her as a mother would embrace a wounded child and desperately she clung to me. No words were necessary. We were communicating at a level that words could never hope to achieve. As her tears flowed, mine intermingled with them.
What a blessing to speak the language of love. My tears told her that I cared deeply. My arms imparted to her comfort and peace. My lips against her cheek showed love and compassion. I sensed her tense body relaxing as I held her close. She was not wrapped in the arms of a stranger, but rather enfolded in the arms of God. The Lord had used my arms to envelop her in His.
The language of love is the language of the spirit. It can be spoken through a smile, an embrace or a tear. It is uttered through a friendly arm draped around a shoulder or through a hand reaching out to grasp the wrinkled hand of an elderly widow. A wave across a crowded room can convey to a rejected person that she is accepted, not only by you but also in the Beloved. And the wonderful thing is that the language of love can be spoken anywhere in the world and the Holy Spirit Himself will be your interpreter.
Reach out today to someone who is hurting. Don't be concerned about what words to say. Just speak the language of love.
I wondered how I could possibly comfort this grieving family, especially when I learned that no interpreter would be going to the house with us. No one there could speak a word of English and we certainly couldn't communicate with them in Telugu. The language barrier loomed up before me like a formidable wall. How do you scale the heights of heartbreak when there are no words to provide a foothold?
The child's parents lived in a tiny hut with a thatched roof and a dirt floor, but as I stood in the doorway of that simple dwelling, I sensed the presence of God filling the place. The Lord certainly understood the pain of losing a son for He had also watched as His only begotten Son died on Calvary. And now He longed to comfort this young couple through us and to assure them of His eternal love.
As the child's mother began to walk across the room toward me, her anguish and pain was evident. Never have I felt so totally inadequate. What did I have to give this grieving woman? I couldn't even speak one word to convey my sympathy. And then the Lord spoke into my heart, "You can speak to her in the language of love, a language that requires no words."
As the young woman moved toward me, I opened my arms wide and received her into them. I embraced her as a mother would embrace a wounded child and desperately she clung to me. No words were necessary. We were communicating at a level that words could never hope to achieve. As her tears flowed, mine intermingled with them.
What a blessing to speak the language of love. My tears told her that I cared deeply. My arms imparted to her comfort and peace. My lips against her cheek showed love and compassion. I sensed her tense body relaxing as I held her close. She was not wrapped in the arms of a stranger, but rather enfolded in the arms of God. The Lord had used my arms to envelop her in His.
The language of love is the language of the spirit. It can be spoken through a smile, an embrace or a tear. It is uttered through a friendly arm draped around a shoulder or through a hand reaching out to grasp the wrinkled hand of an elderly widow. A wave across a crowded room can convey to a rejected person that she is accepted, not only by you but also in the Beloved. And the wonderful thing is that the language of love can be spoken anywhere in the world and the Holy Spirit Himself will be your interpreter.
Reach out today to someone who is hurting. Don't be concerned about what words to say. Just speak the language of love.
THE CARPENTER
Did you even wonder why Jesus was a carpenter? He could have been a fisherman, a farmer, a shepherd or even a merchant. But His father ordained that He should become a carpenter and apprenticed Him at Joseph's knee. Year after year Jesus practiced His trade, taking dead wood and making it into something beautiful and useful to society. As He patiently awaited His call from God, He could be found in the carpentry shop with hammer in hand and blueprint at His side fashioning something from nothing.
And then the call came and Jesus moved into His ministry declaring Himself to be the very Son of God. "Isn't this the carpenter?" the people asked and they were offended by Him.
Yet as Jesus went about healing the sick, restoring sight to the blind and binding up the brokenhearted, He didn't leave behind His profession. Jesus continued on as the Carpenter. He went forth boldly declaring, "I will build My church and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it" (Matt.16:18). The Master Carpenter had come to build a church on earth according to heaven's blueprint. He had come to take some "dead wood people" and transform them into something beautiful and useful. The Carpenter of Galilee had come to build His people into a holy habitation where the glory of God could be seen. He was going to build His church out of very ordinary people who submitted themselves to His hammer, saw and chisel.
But there was a day when the hammer was taken from the Carpenter's hand. The Builder's creation suddenly decided to destroy the Builder. The One who had spent His life driving nails into wood now found the nails being driven into Him. The One who was accustomed to the sound of a hammer heard it once again on a hill called Calvary. And this time instead of the Carpenter holding the wood, the wooden cross held Him.
As Jesus gave His life on the cross, the foundation was laid for a spiritual building. By faith the Master Carpenter saw with His trained eye the holy habitation completed. He had done the finishing work that was required. With a loud voice He cried out, "It is finished!"
Those who were watching that day on Calvary thought that it was the nails that were holding Jesus onto the cross, but it was actually love that held Him there. As He gave His life, He formed a new creation on earth that was not built by human hands. It was truly a holy habitation whose Builder and Maker was God.
But the grave couldn't hold Jesus and the Carpenter rose from the dead. Jesus is alive! The Carpenter lives! And Jesus continues on in His profession today as He skillfully builds, repairs and restores, making His followers into something beautiful and useful. He is still patiently working in the lives of His people bringing about the miracle of change. We are truly His workmanship. Let the Carpenter finish the good work that He has begun in you.
And then the call came and Jesus moved into His ministry declaring Himself to be the very Son of God. "Isn't this the carpenter?" the people asked and they were offended by Him.
Yet as Jesus went about healing the sick, restoring sight to the blind and binding up the brokenhearted, He didn't leave behind His profession. Jesus continued on as the Carpenter. He went forth boldly declaring, "I will build My church and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it" (Matt.16:18). The Master Carpenter had come to build a church on earth according to heaven's blueprint. He had come to take some "dead wood people" and transform them into something beautiful and useful. The Carpenter of Galilee had come to build His people into a holy habitation where the glory of God could be seen. He was going to build His church out of very ordinary people who submitted themselves to His hammer, saw and chisel.
But there was a day when the hammer was taken from the Carpenter's hand. The Builder's creation suddenly decided to destroy the Builder. The One who had spent His life driving nails into wood now found the nails being driven into Him. The One who was accustomed to the sound of a hammer heard it once again on a hill called Calvary. And this time instead of the Carpenter holding the wood, the wooden cross held Him.
As Jesus gave His life on the cross, the foundation was laid for a spiritual building. By faith the Master Carpenter saw with His trained eye the holy habitation completed. He had done the finishing work that was required. With a loud voice He cried out, "It is finished!"
Those who were watching that day on Calvary thought that it was the nails that were holding Jesus onto the cross, but it was actually love that held Him there. As He gave His life, He formed a new creation on earth that was not built by human hands. It was truly a holy habitation whose Builder and Maker was God.
But the grave couldn't hold Jesus and the Carpenter rose from the dead. Jesus is alive! The Carpenter lives! And Jesus continues on in His profession today as He skillfully builds, repairs and restores, making His followers into something beautiful and useful. He is still patiently working in the lives of His people bringing about the miracle of change. We are truly His workmanship. Let the Carpenter finish the good work that He has begun in you.
THE OBEDIENT DOG
A man and his faithful dog were taking a walk through the woods. It was a beautiful day and the dog trotted eagerly along at the side of his master. Suddenly the man stopped and picked up a large stick from off the ground. The dog wagged his tail enthusiastically. He knew what was going to happen next. He was so excited.
"Fetch!" the man commanded as he threw the stick across the field. Instantly the dog was off and running. How he loved to chase after the stick. He picked it up and carried it proudly in his mouth as he came racing back to the side of his master.
"Good dog!" exclaimed the man. And picking up the stick, he once more cast it forth for the dog to retrieve. "Fetch!" Again the dog went bounding across the field after the stick. It was the dog's favorite game. It was so exciting when his master would throw the stick for him to fetch.
As the dog dropped the stick at the man's feet, he wondered how far his master would throw it the next time. Oh, there it went! The stick was in the air! The dog waited expectanly, his muscles straining as he anticipated the order to fetch. Then the man spoke forth with great authority and the dog heard the command, "Stay!"
The dog looked longingly across the field to where the stick was lying, but he remained steadfast at his master's feet. It was so much harder for him to stay than to fetch, but the dog was being taught obedience. After a few moments, the man reached down and patted the dog's head. "Good boy. Now come on, it's time to head back home." And without even a backward glance at the far off stick, the dog faithfully followed his master along the path toward the house.
It is my prayer that someday we might all develop that dog-like attitude of obedience. So often our attitude seems to be, "Lord, we want to walk with You as long as You allow us to chase after the stick. Just don't ask us to sit and stay!"
Let us fetch the stick, Lord! We don't want to just sit at Your feet. Fetching the stick always looks like the most exciting thing to do. Let us chase after signs and wonders. Let us visit foreign lands and preach the gospel. Who wants to sit at Your feet when there's a stick waiting out there to fetch?
How long is our obedience training going to take? Will we ever learn that a period of waiting is often God's perfect will? What does it take to convince us that it can be just as important to stay as it is to fetch?
So many times we react to the command to stay by putting up our hackles and growling at the Master. We murmur and complain about our situations and occasionally even leave the Lord's side to chase after the stick. But there is never any joy in fetching the stick in disobedience.
Lord, make us willing to sit at Your feet. We want be like Mary of old who sat at Your feet and chose the good part. Teach us to be content and to learn to stay and to wait. The true joy comes when you are able to sit quietly at the Lord's feet and hear Him say, "Well done." That's the great reward of staying
"Fetch!" the man commanded as he threw the stick across the field. Instantly the dog was off and running. How he loved to chase after the stick. He picked it up and carried it proudly in his mouth as he came racing back to the side of his master.
"Good dog!" exclaimed the man. And picking up the stick, he once more cast it forth for the dog to retrieve. "Fetch!" Again the dog went bounding across the field after the stick. It was the dog's favorite game. It was so exciting when his master would throw the stick for him to fetch.
As the dog dropped the stick at the man's feet, he wondered how far his master would throw it the next time. Oh, there it went! The stick was in the air! The dog waited expectanly, his muscles straining as he anticipated the order to fetch. Then the man spoke forth with great authority and the dog heard the command, "Stay!"
The dog looked longingly across the field to where the stick was lying, but he remained steadfast at his master's feet. It was so much harder for him to stay than to fetch, but the dog was being taught obedience. After a few moments, the man reached down and patted the dog's head. "Good boy. Now come on, it's time to head back home." And without even a backward glance at the far off stick, the dog faithfully followed his master along the path toward the house.
It is my prayer that someday we might all develop that dog-like attitude of obedience. So often our attitude seems to be, "Lord, we want to walk with You as long as You allow us to chase after the stick. Just don't ask us to sit and stay!"
Let us fetch the stick, Lord! We don't want to just sit at Your feet. Fetching the stick always looks like the most exciting thing to do. Let us chase after signs and wonders. Let us visit foreign lands and preach the gospel. Who wants to sit at Your feet when there's a stick waiting out there to fetch?
How long is our obedience training going to take? Will we ever learn that a period of waiting is often God's perfect will? What does it take to convince us that it can be just as important to stay as it is to fetch?
So many times we react to the command to stay by putting up our hackles and growling at the Master. We murmur and complain about our situations and occasionally even leave the Lord's side to chase after the stick. But there is never any joy in fetching the stick in disobedience.
Lord, make us willing to sit at Your feet. We want be like Mary of old who sat at Your feet and chose the good part. Teach us to be content and to learn to stay and to wait. The true joy comes when you are able to sit quietly at the Lord's feet and hear Him say, "Well done." That's the great reward of staying
LOST ON THE BEACH
As a child I lived in New York City and there was no greater thrill than to spend a day at Jones Beach out on Long Island. It didn't matter that it was crowded or even that the temperature was hovering at the one hundred degree mark, there was no place that I would rather have been on a hot summer's day.
When I arrived at the beach with my parents, we found that a great multitude had also sought to escape from the city that day. The wonderful white sand was covered with men, women and children of all ages. Thousands of brightly colored umbrellas stretched as far as the eye could see. From an airplane, the beach must have looked like a patchwork quilt with the patterned umbrellas nestled so closely together. I can remember making our way through the crowd searching for a little patch of beach that we could claim as our own. Finally we found a space where we could open our umbrella and spread out our towels upon the sand.
As I started toward the water, my mother called after me, "Be sure you only wade along the edge of the beach. Daddy and I will take you in the deep water later for a swim," she promised. "Take a good look at our umbrella so you can find your way back to it without any trouble."
"Blue and white stripes with bright yellow fringe, blue and white stripes with bright yellow fringe," I repeated to myself as I walked toward the ocean with my little bucket in my hand. Maybe I would find some seashells.
I really don't know how long I waded there in the shallow water, but it was long enough to accumulate quite a collection of shells. Anxious to show my mother all my treasures, I looked out across the sea of umbrellas to find the one with blue and white stripes and bright yellow fringe. But everywhere I looked there were blue and white umbrellas. There were hundreds of them on the beach, maybe even thousands. I began to wander through the crowd seeking my umbrella and my parents, but they were nowhere to be found. For what seemed like hours, I walked along the beach searching. The tears began to flow as I became even more confused and addled. I visited dozens of blue and white umbrellas, but to no avail. I was lost! Very lost!
And then I saw the lifeguard stand. What a humbling experience it was for me to go to the lifeguard and ask for his help. Going to the lifeguard meant admitting that I was lost and that I desperately needed his assistance, but I had no choice. It had become obvious that I was never going to find my way safely back on my own. I can vividly recall going to the foot of his tall stand and calling up to the lifeguard. "Please help me! I'm lost! I can't find my parents."
How very kind and gentle the lifeguard was. Reaching down and taking my hand, he pulled me up until I was right next to him. "Now you just step up here on top of my chair, little lady," he instructed me. And when I was standing in place, he blew his whistle. Within minutes my father was there to claim me and take me back to the safety of our umbrella. I'll never forget how he wrapped me in his arms and hugged me that summer day when I was found.
Jesus is our Lifeguard and our Lifesaver. We have a choice of wandering around aimlessly, confused, without purpose and hopelessly lost, or we can humble ourselves and look to Him for salvation and help. His greatest desire is to see us reunited with our Heavenly Father and if we just ask, He will help us to find our way back to our Father's waiting arms.
When I arrived at the beach with my parents, we found that a great multitude had also sought to escape from the city that day. The wonderful white sand was covered with men, women and children of all ages. Thousands of brightly colored umbrellas stretched as far as the eye could see. From an airplane, the beach must have looked like a patchwork quilt with the patterned umbrellas nestled so closely together. I can remember making our way through the crowd searching for a little patch of beach that we could claim as our own. Finally we found a space where we could open our umbrella and spread out our towels upon the sand.
As I started toward the water, my mother called after me, "Be sure you only wade along the edge of the beach. Daddy and I will take you in the deep water later for a swim," she promised. "Take a good look at our umbrella so you can find your way back to it without any trouble."
"Blue and white stripes with bright yellow fringe, blue and white stripes with bright yellow fringe," I repeated to myself as I walked toward the ocean with my little bucket in my hand. Maybe I would find some seashells.
I really don't know how long I waded there in the shallow water, but it was long enough to accumulate quite a collection of shells. Anxious to show my mother all my treasures, I looked out across the sea of umbrellas to find the one with blue and white stripes and bright yellow fringe. But everywhere I looked there were blue and white umbrellas. There were hundreds of them on the beach, maybe even thousands. I began to wander through the crowd seeking my umbrella and my parents, but they were nowhere to be found. For what seemed like hours, I walked along the beach searching. The tears began to flow as I became even more confused and addled. I visited dozens of blue and white umbrellas, but to no avail. I was lost! Very lost!
And then I saw the lifeguard stand. What a humbling experience it was for me to go to the lifeguard and ask for his help. Going to the lifeguard meant admitting that I was lost and that I desperately needed his assistance, but I had no choice. It had become obvious that I was never going to find my way safely back on my own. I can vividly recall going to the foot of his tall stand and calling up to the lifeguard. "Please help me! I'm lost! I can't find my parents."
How very kind and gentle the lifeguard was. Reaching down and taking my hand, he pulled me up until I was right next to him. "Now you just step up here on top of my chair, little lady," he instructed me. And when I was standing in place, he blew his whistle. Within minutes my father was there to claim me and take me back to the safety of our umbrella. I'll never forget how he wrapped me in his arms and hugged me that summer day when I was found.
Jesus is our Lifeguard and our Lifesaver. We have a choice of wandering around aimlessly, confused, without purpose and hopelessly lost, or we can humble ourselves and look to Him for salvation and help. His greatest desire is to see us reunited with our Heavenly Father and if we just ask, He will help us to find our way back to our Father's waiting arms.
THE ELEVATOR ENCOUNTER
I glanced at my watch as my husband and I waited for the elevator in a large hotel in Baltimore. The meeting had lasted much longer than I had expected and it was nearly midnight. Impatiently I reached out and pressed the elevator button for a second time. We were on the twentieth floor of the building and I wondered if the elevator was ever going to arrive. "Perhaps the elevator doesn't run this late at night," my husband suggested. Finally the elevator door opened and we stepped inside, pushing the button for the parking garage on the lower level. The elevator began its downward descent and we were finally on our way.
But wait! The elevator only went down one floor before it came to a halt. Two more passengers joined us, a young man and his attractive girl friend. He pushed the button for the ground floor and we all moved to our respective corners to stake out our little piece of territory. With a slight jolt the elevator once more started to move.
Suddenly I heard the voice of God speaking to me very clearly in a still small voice within my heart and I heard Him say, "It's no mistake that man is on this elevator with you. I want you to sing to him so he knows that Jesus loves him. Just open your mouth and start singing."
I could hardly believe what God was asking me to do. "You've got to be kidding, Lord," I responded. "He'll think that I'm crazy."
But I knew I was hearing from God. There was no mistaking His voice and I really had no choice but to obey. Taking a deep breath, I looked the young man straight in the eye and began to sing. "Jesus loves you this I know for the Bible tells me so. Little ones to Him belong, they are weak but He is strong."
I watched his eyes open wide in amazement as the familiar words of the song began to fill the elevator. There was a look of utter panic upon his face, but he had nowhere to run. He was trapped. The elevator moved at a snail's pace as I continued to sing.
The young man averted his eyes from me and looked down at the floor. His girl friend also lowered her eyes and I couldn't help but notice that even my husband was looking down at his feet. I could hardly believe how slowly the elevator was moving. I had enough time to sing the verse and two choruses before we reached the ground floor. As the door slid open, the man bolted out of the elevator like he had been shot from a cannon with his girl friend following closely behind in rapid pursuit. As the door closed behind them, my husband turned to me with a smile and said, "Nice song. He'll probably remember this elevator ride for a long time."
What a foolish thing to do! Can you imagine singing to a total stranger on an elevator? But God has chosen the foolish things of the world to confound the wise. God is seeking those who will be obedient to the leading of His Spirit. We are not to question His purposes, but merely to respond to His voice. The Lord may not call on you to sing in an elevator, but He may prompt you to pray for someone in your office who complains of a headache. Or perhaps to present a tract to the waiter in the restaurant. Or to visit a friend in the hospital. Or to tell a stranger in the grocery store that Jesus loves her.
I am convinced that the young man will never forget the woman who sang to him about Jesus in the elevator. When his thoughts turn to spiritual things, my simple song will once more resound in his mind and he'll remember that Jesus loves him. God's word never returns void.
But wait! The elevator only went down one floor before it came to a halt. Two more passengers joined us, a young man and his attractive girl friend. He pushed the button for the ground floor and we all moved to our respective corners to stake out our little piece of territory. With a slight jolt the elevator once more started to move.
Suddenly I heard the voice of God speaking to me very clearly in a still small voice within my heart and I heard Him say, "It's no mistake that man is on this elevator with you. I want you to sing to him so he knows that Jesus loves him. Just open your mouth and start singing."
I could hardly believe what God was asking me to do. "You've got to be kidding, Lord," I responded. "He'll think that I'm crazy."
But I knew I was hearing from God. There was no mistaking His voice and I really had no choice but to obey. Taking a deep breath, I looked the young man straight in the eye and began to sing. "Jesus loves you this I know for the Bible tells me so. Little ones to Him belong, they are weak but He is strong."
I watched his eyes open wide in amazement as the familiar words of the song began to fill the elevator. There was a look of utter panic upon his face, but he had nowhere to run. He was trapped. The elevator moved at a snail's pace as I continued to sing.
The young man averted his eyes from me and looked down at the floor. His girl friend also lowered her eyes and I couldn't help but notice that even my husband was looking down at his feet. I could hardly believe how slowly the elevator was moving. I had enough time to sing the verse and two choruses before we reached the ground floor. As the door slid open, the man bolted out of the elevator like he had been shot from a cannon with his girl friend following closely behind in rapid pursuit. As the door closed behind them, my husband turned to me with a smile and said, "Nice song. He'll probably remember this elevator ride for a long time."
What a foolish thing to do! Can you imagine singing to a total stranger on an elevator? But God has chosen the foolish things of the world to confound the wise. God is seeking those who will be obedient to the leading of His Spirit. We are not to question His purposes, but merely to respond to His voice. The Lord may not call on you to sing in an elevator, but He may prompt you to pray for someone in your office who complains of a headache. Or perhaps to present a tract to the waiter in the restaurant. Or to visit a friend in the hospital. Or to tell a stranger in the grocery store that Jesus loves her.
I am convinced that the young man will never forget the woman who sang to him about Jesus in the elevator. When his thoughts turn to spiritual things, my simple song will once more resound in his mind and he'll remember that Jesus loves him. God's word never returns void.
THE DIARY
When I was in high school I had a blue leather diary and every night I would record the happenings of the day in it. My thoughts, hopes and dreams were all carefully put down in the pages of my diary. Nothing was left out. I wrote about all my boy friends in great detail, what we said, what we did and where we went. It was all down in black and white, never to be forgotten.
Sometimes on a rainy day I would read through my diary, remembering the things that had taken place, reliving the past. These memories were all kept under lock and key in the little blue book that contained every detail of my teenage years.
Several years later I met a wonderful person and found out what real love was all about. It wasn't long before he slipped a diamond ring on my finger and a wedding date was set. I was on the threshold of a new life with a new name and a bright shining future. The past was forgotten.
Or was it? There on my dresser rested my old diary. It cried out to me to remember the past. It invited me to open it and relive what used to be. It begged to be packed and taken along to my new home and to become a part of my new life.
The day before my wedding I took the diary out into the back yard, tore out all the pages and heaped them up into a pile. Then I took a match and watched my past go up in flames. When there was nothing left but ashes, I scooped them up and threw them into the air, watching the wind carry them away. My past was gone. I could start anew.
Perhaps when Jesus' disciples gathered in the upper room on the day of Pentecost there was also a diary burning of sorts. The tongues of fire came down upon them annihilating past memories and then the rushing mighty wind of the Spirit removed the past from them as far as the east is from the west. The 120 believers left the place ready to go forth as new creatures, forgetting those things which were behind. Peter, who had denied the Lord three times, was now free to preach the gospel without condemnation. Old things had truly passed away!
How many past events do you still have recorded in the diary of your heart? How often do you rustle through the pages bringing to remembrance your failures, your short-comings, your sins of the past? Are you still holding on to things best forgotten, going over them in your mind on cloudy days? Do the years that you spent serving the devil intrude into your new life with Christ Jesus?
It's time to rip up your diary and allow the flames of God's love to consume it. Don't keep it in your house where you are tempted to go over the past again and again. Cast it out and allow the wind of the Spirit to blow it away.
Your Bridegroom is waiting for you. He desires for you to walk in a new and living way, leaving the past behind. Don't bring your old diary on your honeymoon. There are so many new and wonderful things that lie ahead with Jesus. Behold, He makes all things new!
Sometimes on a rainy day I would read through my diary, remembering the things that had taken place, reliving the past. These memories were all kept under lock and key in the little blue book that contained every detail of my teenage years.
Several years later I met a wonderful person and found out what real love was all about. It wasn't long before he slipped a diamond ring on my finger and a wedding date was set. I was on the threshold of a new life with a new name and a bright shining future. The past was forgotten.
Or was it? There on my dresser rested my old diary. It cried out to me to remember the past. It invited me to open it and relive what used to be. It begged to be packed and taken along to my new home and to become a part of my new life.
The day before my wedding I took the diary out into the back yard, tore out all the pages and heaped them up into a pile. Then I took a match and watched my past go up in flames. When there was nothing left but ashes, I scooped them up and threw them into the air, watching the wind carry them away. My past was gone. I could start anew.
Perhaps when Jesus' disciples gathered in the upper room on the day of Pentecost there was also a diary burning of sorts. The tongues of fire came down upon them annihilating past memories and then the rushing mighty wind of the Spirit removed the past from them as far as the east is from the west. The 120 believers left the place ready to go forth as new creatures, forgetting those things which were behind. Peter, who had denied the Lord three times, was now free to preach the gospel without condemnation. Old things had truly passed away!
How many past events do you still have recorded in the diary of your heart? How often do you rustle through the pages bringing to remembrance your failures, your short-comings, your sins of the past? Are you still holding on to things best forgotten, going over them in your mind on cloudy days? Do the years that you spent serving the devil intrude into your new life with Christ Jesus?
It's time to rip up your diary and allow the flames of God's love to consume it. Don't keep it in your house where you are tempted to go over the past again and again. Cast it out and allow the wind of the Spirit to blow it away.
Your Bridegroom is waiting for you. He desires for you to walk in a new and living way, leaving the past behind. Don't bring your old diary on your honeymoon. There are so many new and wonderful things that lie ahead with Jesus. Behold, He makes all things new!
THE BIRTH ON THE CROSS
THE BIRTH ON THE CROSS
The miracle of birth! What can compare to this new life that is fearfully and wondrously made? A new life emerging from the darkness of the womb into the light. A mother laboring amid pain and suffering to bring forth a child made in her image and likeness.
Yet in the midst of her anguish, there is an air of expectancy, yes even joy, as she awaits the birth of the child that will soon be born. In the agony of her pain, suffering, sweat and blood, a thing of beauty is being brought forth—a newborn child.
"A woman when she is in travail has sorrow because her hour is come: but as soon as she is delivered of the child, she remembers no more the anguish for joy that a child is born into the world" (John 16:21).
A curse was placed upon woman back in the garden of Eden when she sinned. "In sorrow you will bring forth children" (Genesis 3:16). But then in the fullness of time, our Lord Jesus was made a curse for us, because it is written in the scriptures, "Cursed is everyone that hangs on a tree" (Galatians 3:13).
How often do we think of the cross as a delivery table? How often do we think of the man of sorrows hanging there on the cross as the One bearing the curse of childbirth's pain to bring forth His church—the child of promise conformed to His image and likeness? There on the cross was the Creator of the universe, stripped of His dignity, naked and exposed to the eyes of men giving birth to a new creation. "Jesus, who for the joy that was set before Him, endured the cross, despising the shame" (Hebrews 12:2).
A mother giving birth is a lonely figure. She labors alone. No one can do it for her. Her labor and her labor alone will bring forth the child. Others may stand by and watch her suffering, but in the hour of birth, she alone endures the pain. "My God, My God, why have You forsaken me?" (Matthew 27:46).
Hour upon hour of almost unbearable pain as the child is being delivered. Her body is being stretched and torn as the child makes its way down the birth canal. "Narrow is the way which leads to life" (Matthew 7:14).
She is exhausted, yet still the child has not come. Will the pain ever end? Mouth so dry—"I thirst" (John 19:28). She is held captive on the delivery table awaiting the imminent birth. The child must be born and there is no turning back.
And then suddenly, "It is finished!" (John 19:30). A perfectly formed child still covered with blood has come into the world. Joy of joy! A child has been born.
Children of God, never forget what Jesus endured that you might be born into the kingdom of God. For the church is the blood-covered child that our Lord brought forth that day on the cross. You are the result of His labor that day on Calvary. You have been delivered and placed into the arms of the One who loved you and gave Himself for you.
The Lord died in childbirth on what we call Good Friday. But hallelujah—the good news is that Jesus rose from the dead and He lives forevermore. And so we celebrate His resurrection on Easter Sunday. Jesus is alive! He lives! Let us rejoice and be glad.
Chapter 29 Revisited by Jean Coleman
The miracle of birth! What can compare to this new life that is fearfully and wondrously made? A new life emerging from the darkness of the womb into the light. A mother laboring amid pain and suffering to bring forth a child made in her image and likeness.
Yet in the midst of her anguish, there is an air of expectancy, yes even joy, as she awaits the birth of the child that will soon be born. In the agony of her pain, suffering, sweat and blood, a thing of beauty is being brought forth—a newborn child.
"A woman when she is in travail has sorrow because her hour is come: but as soon as she is delivered of the child, she remembers no more the anguish for joy that a child is born into the world" (John 16:21).
A curse was placed upon woman back in the garden of Eden when she sinned. "In sorrow you will bring forth children" (Genesis 3:16). But then in the fullness of time, our Lord Jesus was made a curse for us, because it is written in the scriptures, "Cursed is everyone that hangs on a tree" (Galatians 3:13).
How often do we think of the cross as a delivery table? How often do we think of the man of sorrows hanging there on the cross as the One bearing the curse of childbirth's pain to bring forth His church—the child of promise conformed to His image and likeness? There on the cross was the Creator of the universe, stripped of His dignity, naked and exposed to the eyes of men giving birth to a new creation. "Jesus, who for the joy that was set before Him, endured the cross, despising the shame" (Hebrews 12:2).
A mother giving birth is a lonely figure. She labors alone. No one can do it for her. Her labor and her labor alone will bring forth the child. Others may stand by and watch her suffering, but in the hour of birth, she alone endures the pain. "My God, My God, why have You forsaken me?" (Matthew 27:46).
Hour upon hour of almost unbearable pain as the child is being delivered. Her body is being stretched and torn as the child makes its way down the birth canal. "Narrow is the way which leads to life" (Matthew 7:14).
She is exhausted, yet still the child has not come. Will the pain ever end? Mouth so dry—"I thirst" (John 19:28). She is held captive on the delivery table awaiting the imminent birth. The child must be born and there is no turning back.
And then suddenly, "It is finished!" (John 19:30). A perfectly formed child still covered with blood has come into the world. Joy of joy! A child has been born.
Children of God, never forget what Jesus endured that you might be born into the kingdom of God. For the church is the blood-covered child that our Lord brought forth that day on the cross. You are the result of His labor that day on Calvary. You have been delivered and placed into the arms of the One who loved you and gave Himself for you.
The Lord died in childbirth on what we call Good Friday. But hallelujah—the good news is that Jesus rose from the dead and He lives forevermore. And so we celebrate His resurrection on Easter Sunday. Jesus is alive! He lives! Let us rejoice and be glad.
Chapter 29 Revisited by Jean Coleman
WHY ARE THERE FOUR GOSPELS?
NOT FOR EVERYONE, BUT PERHAPS FOR YOU
As a Bible teacher, I felt led on New Year's Day to write a short Bible study that I think will help you to understand the four gospels and how each was written to show a different aspect of of the nature and role of Jesus. This teaching has gone viral and now has been seen by over 14,000 people.
The Gospel of Matthew is written to the Jews and shows Jesus as the King of the Jews. Consequently there are many scriptures quoted throughout Matthew because the Jews all knew the scriptures and could see how they were fulfilled through Jesus. The genealogy of Jesus begins with Abraham (the father of the Jews) and the lineage goes through Solomon, the son of David. It is the lineage through Joseph who was recognized legally as the father of Jesus.
The Gospel of Mark is written to show Jesus as Servant/Prophet. You will notice there is no lineage given in this book because if you are looking for a servant, his ancestry is not of vital importance. You are seeking to discover if a servant is strong and has the ability to accomplish the work he is required to perform. In the Gospel of Mark you see Jesus doing the Father's will and completing His work.
The Gospel of Luke reveals Jesus as the Son of Man. The book was written to the Greeks who were Gentiles so there are few scriptures used. Luke was a physician so he writes of many healing miracles. The genealogy is traced all the way back to Adam, the first man. You will notice that the lineage goes through Nathan (one of the sons of David) and shows the ancestry of Jesus through Mary's side. In the Gospel of Luke much of the human nature of Jesus is shown.
The Gospel of John reveals Jesus as the Son of God and starts out, "In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God and the Word was God." No genealogy is necessary because we see that Jesus always was. In John 14:9, Jesus says, "He who has seen Me has seen the Father." Throughout the Gospel of John we see God revealed through Jesus. We hear Jesus referring to Himself as the I AM. As Luke revealed the human nature of Jesus, the Gospel of John reveals the spiritual nature of Jesus.
These four witnesses wrote of Jesus so that we can know without a doubt that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the Living God. Jesus did not only come to the Jews, but also as a light to the Gentiles. He came to reveal the Father to those who have the eyes to see.
Blessings and Happy New Year.
Jean Coleman
Author of "Chapter 29 Revisited"
www.facebook.com/chapter29
As a Bible teacher, I felt led on New Year's Day to write a short Bible study that I think will help you to understand the four gospels and how each was written to show a different aspect of of the nature and role of Jesus. This teaching has gone viral and now has been seen by over 14,000 people.
The Gospel of Matthew is written to the Jews and shows Jesus as the King of the Jews. Consequently there are many scriptures quoted throughout Matthew because the Jews all knew the scriptures and could see how they were fulfilled through Jesus. The genealogy of Jesus begins with Abraham (the father of the Jews) and the lineage goes through Solomon, the son of David. It is the lineage through Joseph who was recognized legally as the father of Jesus.
The Gospel of Mark is written to show Jesus as Servant/Prophet. You will notice there is no lineage given in this book because if you are looking for a servant, his ancestry is not of vital importance. You are seeking to discover if a servant is strong and has the ability to accomplish the work he is required to perform. In the Gospel of Mark you see Jesus doing the Father's will and completing His work.
The Gospel of Luke reveals Jesus as the Son of Man. The book was written to the Greeks who were Gentiles so there are few scriptures used. Luke was a physician so he writes of many healing miracles. The genealogy is traced all the way back to Adam, the first man. You will notice that the lineage goes through Nathan (one of the sons of David) and shows the ancestry of Jesus through Mary's side. In the Gospel of Luke much of the human nature of Jesus is shown.
The Gospel of John reveals Jesus as the Son of God and starts out, "In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God and the Word was God." No genealogy is necessary because we see that Jesus always was. In John 14:9, Jesus says, "He who has seen Me has seen the Father." Throughout the Gospel of John we see God revealed through Jesus. We hear Jesus referring to Himself as the I AM. As Luke revealed the human nature of Jesus, the Gospel of John reveals the spiritual nature of Jesus.
These four witnesses wrote of Jesus so that we can know without a doubt that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the Living God. Jesus did not only come to the Jews, but also as a light to the Gentiles. He came to reveal the Father to those who have the eyes to see.
Blessings and Happy New Year.
Jean Coleman
Author of "Chapter 29 Revisited"
www.facebook.com/chapter29
ARE YOU A SINNER OR A SAINT?
I was a sinner who was saved by grace, but now I am no longer a sinner. Through grace I have become a saint, a holy person who is being conformed into the image of Christ. I am now a new creature and this new creature (or creation if you prefer) is sanctified and holy, one who has been cleansed from all sin by the blood of Jesus. The sinner I used to be has been miraculously transformed into a saint.
Jesus' first miracle was changing water into wine at the wedding feast at Cana. And Jesus' first miracle in us is also the miracle of change. He changes a sinner into saint. When we come to the cross and trust in Jesus as our Savior, we are changed from sinners into saints in the eyes of God.
When a caterpillar becomes a butterfly. is it still referred to as a caterpillar? Or does it become a totally new creature with a new name? From the moment of transformation, it becomes known as a butterfly? The old caterpillar was designed to squirm along confined to the dirt and dust of the earth, but when it became a butterfly it was set free and could soar to new heights in the heavenlies. The butterfly didn't fly around shouting, "Look at me. I'm a caterpillar." It was no longer a caterpillar, but it had become a beautiful butterfly. It had been transformed into something completely new. It had been changed. The caterpillar has become a butterfly and the sinner has become a saint.
The Bible says that "as a man thinks in his heart, so is he." If you believe you are a sinner, you will continue to sin. That is the nature of a sinner. But if you recognize that the old putrid sinner (the dead man) has been buried in the waters of baptism, then you know that you have been raised from the watery grave as a new creature to walk in a new and living way. No longer a sinner, you are a saint.
Once a man came to pray for me at a meeting. He laid his hands upon my shoulders and began to pray, "Lord, I know that I'm just a dirty old sinner and don't deserve for you to hear my prayer, but I'm going to make a request anyway."
I was shocked by his words. "Just a minute!" I thought. "I certainly don't want a dirty old sinner praying for me!" How sad it is when someone who has been born again through the grace of God and the blood of the Lamb still views himself as a "dirty old undeserving sinner." God forbid! We need to begin to see ourselves as God sees us.
Gideon was declared to be a mighty man of valor when he was actually a wimp hiding behind the wine press. He needed to see himself the way that God saw him. Gideon was called, chosen and empowered to be a mighty man of valor. Once he believed that God had the power to change him, Gideon was able to become the victorious person that the Lord had called him to be.
And we have been redeemed! We are new creatures in Christ Jesus. "If any man is in Christ, he is a new creature. Old things have passed away and behold, all things have become new." But we have to believe for the miracle of transformation to take place in our lives.
So here's the big question I'm asking born again Christians: Are you a sinner or a saint? Think about it. The strength of your Christian walk will depend upon how you answer that question. Are you a sinner or a saint?
by Jean Coleman
Jesus' first miracle was changing water into wine at the wedding feast at Cana. And Jesus' first miracle in us is also the miracle of change. He changes a sinner into saint. When we come to the cross and trust in Jesus as our Savior, we are changed from sinners into saints in the eyes of God.
When a caterpillar becomes a butterfly. is it still referred to as a caterpillar? Or does it become a totally new creature with a new name? From the moment of transformation, it becomes known as a butterfly? The old caterpillar was designed to squirm along confined to the dirt and dust of the earth, but when it became a butterfly it was set free and could soar to new heights in the heavenlies. The butterfly didn't fly around shouting, "Look at me. I'm a caterpillar." It was no longer a caterpillar, but it had become a beautiful butterfly. It had been transformed into something completely new. It had been changed. The caterpillar has become a butterfly and the sinner has become a saint.
The Bible says that "as a man thinks in his heart, so is he." If you believe you are a sinner, you will continue to sin. That is the nature of a sinner. But if you recognize that the old putrid sinner (the dead man) has been buried in the waters of baptism, then you know that you have been raised from the watery grave as a new creature to walk in a new and living way. No longer a sinner, you are a saint.
Once a man came to pray for me at a meeting. He laid his hands upon my shoulders and began to pray, "Lord, I know that I'm just a dirty old sinner and don't deserve for you to hear my prayer, but I'm going to make a request anyway."
I was shocked by his words. "Just a minute!" I thought. "I certainly don't want a dirty old sinner praying for me!" How sad it is when someone who has been born again through the grace of God and the blood of the Lamb still views himself as a "dirty old undeserving sinner." God forbid! We need to begin to see ourselves as God sees us.
Gideon was declared to be a mighty man of valor when he was actually a wimp hiding behind the wine press. He needed to see himself the way that God saw him. Gideon was called, chosen and empowered to be a mighty man of valor. Once he believed that God had the power to change him, Gideon was able to become the victorious person that the Lord had called him to be.
And we have been redeemed! We are new creatures in Christ Jesus. "If any man is in Christ, he is a new creature. Old things have passed away and behold, all things have become new." But we have to believe for the miracle of transformation to take place in our lives.
So here's the big question I'm asking born again Christians: Are you a sinner or a saint? Think about it. The strength of your Christian walk will depend upon how you answer that question. Are you a sinner or a saint?
by Jean Coleman
