Here I am at the start of another week. Week four of my holiday. 1930UTC or, if you please, 0530 Eastern Australian Standard time. That's winter for those who don't quite get it. I can't sleep.
Been awake since 0340. Don't know why I woke. I just did. No, no snoring. Well, there was, but not enough to bother. I have a little headache but not enough to bother. I just couldn't sleep and what is the point in lying in bed tossing and turning, watching the clock in its relentless march forward. Get up, get motivated.
Oh, I did spend a few brief minutes in prayer. Prayer, that most neglected of pleasures. Communing with the Almighty. An essential part of our lives. You know it occurs to me that we would save ourselves an awful lot of bother if we spent more time in prayer. Go back to Genesis and Eve's cosy fireside chat with Lucifer, for example. Now that wouldn't have happened if Eve had expended that energy in communing with Elohim. Are we any different? I think not. If we expended the same amount of energy in prayer as we do in some not so nice, but seemingly so at the time, pursuits, we also would not get ourselves into bother.
Why don't we expend that time in prayer that we ought? Coz prayer is seen as boring. I mean, who in their right mind wants to spend time attempting to talk to some deity who, seemingly, does answer? At least doesn't answer in a manner one would expect.
A little while ago Michele made the bold statement that one can't touch God or Jesus. She is right. Be touched by, but not touch. Because Christ is outside our physical domain, we can't touch him the same way we might touch another physical human being.
That brings me to another subject. Last week my group in Triple M's were in Luke chapters 1-12. As I read the start of the book it occurred to me that we supposedly never hear from prophets these days. Maybe we do. But do we, would we, recognise a prophet if we saw one? I doubt it. I don't recall seeing one. Scary isn't it. To think that Christ could pass you in the street, say hello, and we wouldn't even know. That is sad. But, lest we pass judgement on the Pharisees who missed Jesus when He was here, so would we.
They tell me next Sunday is Father's Day. We are supposed to celebrate our fathers. Hogwash! I will celebrate my two, maybe soon to be three, children. Children are a blessing. Sure, they cause us headaches to spare. But mine give me far more than I give. I can laugh and rejoice.
Back to Luke. This week we are in Luke 13-24. And it starts with a call to repentance. I need that. Even as I re-read this post I can see that I fall short. I need to revisit Galatians 2:20 and allow the message of that part of the Holy Writ sink into my soul. I need Christ to re-invade my being and make me the person He created me to be. I was created in the image of God. Then I truly need to display His image as he intended me to.
I am up to Chapter 16 today. It's actually quite interesting. Jesus spends a lot of time doing what the Pharisees considered to be wrong. They failed, as we do, to see what Jesus was all about. They, like us, looked at the outside. Jesus looked at the inside.
That brings me to Cathy. Words of wisdom from a 3 year old. A little while ago I was getting her to concentrate on at what Vicar Phil was doing as he went through the Communion. Our definition for the cup was that it represented Jesus cleaning us on the inside. The bread represented Jesus standing before God and taking our punishment, I am not sure my 3 year old got that bit. It goes something like this. We have all been naughty to God. And he needs to smack us. But if He did we would die. That's what Jesus did. He took the smack from God that we should have got. That's the gospel in its simplest form.
Till next time.......
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