Corruptful

Have you ever felt like that? Have you ever looked at the world and seen all the pain? Have you taken a moment out of your day to look at the hate, the regret and the suffering in the world? Everything from pregnant teens to druggy guys to abusive husbands to children starving in Africa to the homeless in New York City. Have you ever thought about it? Have you ever considered it? Have you ever looked into the mirror and realized how amazingly, abundantly blessed you truly are? I’m not a rich guy, but I see how rich I am when contrasted to the vast majority of the worlds population: and it makes me sick. When I see these people trying and failing and yet I don’t even have to try to “suceed.” It’s a horrible experience. How can I eat my good, rich, clean, American food and walk in my good, rich, clean, American shoes and wear my good, rich, clean, American cloths when many many many more have none of the three?

Many of these people have basic needs. They have physical needs of shelter, clothing, and food. Then they have emotional and spiritual needs of love and hope and Jesus christ. There are so many needs in this world and so much that I - and each of you - have to give. Yet we don’t. I suppose we more or less choose not to. Oftentimes we simply don’t know how; but if we don’t know how could that be an excuse? Could it simply be that we’re unwilling to seek out a way to aid those in need? To help the less fortunate?

For me it’s a burden of sorts. It’s something that I must find a way to do. To achieve. To help. I can’t help them all, but I can try. I just must figure out the means to the end. I simply cannot take pleasure in my well being when others cannot. If you think about it, it takes away the happiness of it. I simply cannot live life to the fullest when this world just keeps dying.

I suppose these few paragraphs are more without a crystal clear point, but I do have one. I suppose that it is 1) To realize how abundantly blessed each of us are. 2) To see those in need, notice them, and to open our hearts to them. 3) To take the initiative to help the helpless.

Please, don’t just consider my words. Find a way to act on them.

Thank you for listening.

Have you ever considered how things influence you? Well, if you haven’t, consider it. Virtually everything influences you. You’re parents, school, peers, politics, the weather, movies, music - everything. I’m going to briefly (nothing’s ever brief with me, mind you) about music.

Basically what I’d like to say is this: for the average person in my age group, music is something you can’t get away from. It’s something you love, something you enjoy and something that is continuous. You probably have a CD or MP3 player and/or listen to music in your room, on the PC, in the car, et cetera. It sorounds us. There’s no escape.

For me, for the longest time, music shaped me in a very negative way. To be straightforward, it was hate music. Needless to say it was extremely depressing and it pulled me down in every aspect of my life; in my relationship with God, with my friends, and with my self-esteme. Eventually I was able to ward out the music that I knew was having a negative impact of my life, but it was difficult. The fact is, in my case, the vast majority of music simply is depressing. Even if it’s not intended to be. You have your songs about hate and pain, which are clear in message. Then you have the wonderful songs about ending the hate and pain, making things better, making things right. In my case this only intesified the mood. Why? Because I’ m a realist. I knew that no matter what people did, people would still kill, would still die, and would still cry. Bombs would still fall. Terrorists would still create terror. People would still starve. It’s a simple reality. I suppose in one aspect it was a good reminder of how blessed I am - but in another way, it’s a curse. Then there’s the music that talk about hope, about love, about freedom and about sucess. The downfall of those songs in my eyes was that I simply thought I could never have them. I could never be loved; could never love someone. Hope was an idea, not a reality. Freedom? Cut that down too. Sucess? I’m a failure. It tormented me.

Anyway, as per usual my point isn’t exactly clear. I’m not sure I have one. Perhaps it is simply for you to realize what influences you (such as music) - because even if you don’t realize it, it can shape you into a person you do not want to be come.

God calls YOU

Personally I hate it when people make excuses to not invovle Christ in their daily lives. What’s more, many Christians don’t realize that they are called by God to spread the word of Christ.

The following verse is one I’ve felt a call on for my life. Please read it and consider it:

Romans 10: 14-15 - But how can they call on him to save them unless they believe in him? And how can they believe in him if they have never heard about him? and how can they hear about him unless someone tells them? And how will anyone go and tell them without being sent? This is what the Scriptures mean when they say, “How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news!”

Guys, you are sent by God. If you’re a Christian, you should be these feet that bring good news. You are called to tell people about Christ so that they may be saved; you are sent. So go already.

You don’t have to be a martyr in China to make a difference. You can make a difference on varying degrees, but regardless don’t turn a blind eye to the need.

I dislike it when people make excuses. “Oh, I can’t, I have to work”, “I have school,” or “I don’t feel called.” The fact is, it doesn’t matter if you feel called to ministry! The need is there. If you don’t have a passion for missions you should ask yourself why that is.

The way I see it is this: Missions is like worship. Worship isn’t something you can blame God for if you’re not feeling the Holy Spirit moving in you. It’s something that needs to be active on your part. You have to take the initiative. You have to make yourself worship or want to worship, and if you do, you reap the rewards.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that there is a need. Be it in China, New York, East St. Louis or here in the Peoria area. There are millions in the world who need to be saved. They’re going through hell on earth and have no one to turn to - don’t make them suffer an eternity of it. Be active in ministry and missions. The school is a mission’s field. If you’re a student, you have the power. You have so much influence.

Just consider what I’ve said and consider this verse:

Romans 10: 14-15 - But how can they call on him to save them unless they believe in him? And how can they believe in him if they have never heard about him? and how can they hear about him unless someone tells them? And how will anyone go and tell them without being sent? This is what the Scriptures mean when they say, “How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news!”

As many of you know, I’m somewhat of a cynic. Okay, I won’t lie. I am a cynic. A pessimist. Call it whatever you will. However, faith in God really changes that, at least in certain situations, such as one I experienced today.

For the past couple days I’ve been helping my neighbor - both my brother and I. We tore down his shed and moved all the wood and shingles into this large dumpster he rented for the week. He has this “car port” which is basically a mini garage. It’s made of solid wood beams and has a large roof on top. Anyway, after we finished with the shed we moved towards the car port. We were tearing them both down, ripping them apart, then disposing them.

He spent a while working on it. Sawing off a beam here or there with his chainsaw, pounding out a bolt with a sledgehammer. But he couldn’t get it to move. He tried for like forty five minutes. So he went under/inside it, with the sledgehammer, and began to pound on one of the four remaining support beams, the one in the center.

He hit it once. No response. It remained solid. He hit it again. Nothing. He hit it a third; more of the same. Then he hit it again, and within a second, the garage collapsed and fell upon his body. There was no time for my brother or I to respond or give a warning - not that it would have helped. He knew as soon as we new. It was upon him within a second. My brother and I bolted to where the man lay. I couldn’t see him at first and I thought he must have gotten away soon enough. I was wrong.

The car port had collapsed on him (as he had earlier joked it would). I could hear him grunting from inside. My brother was gasping, panicking so to speak. He hadn’t the slightest idea of what to do.

Now, the car port rested on concrete, and there was grass to the left. He fell into the grass, right next to the concrete - right where the space from the concrete to the grass dropped down about a foot, maybe a little more.

He was in the exact place, the only place he could have been without being seriously injured. There was just enough room for a body to lie. Had he fell to the other side, there would have been no room. Had he fell on the concrete, he would have been crushed.

I told my brother to go get help, and my mother and grandfather soon appeared. I stayed with the man, talking to him, and doing my best to do everything I could. I attempted to lift the roof, but it moved a mere two to three inches. No way I was moving that. It weighed a ton. Two tons (seriously, this is like a real roof). Eventually he wiggled halfway out, and once my grandfather arrived the three of us used a metal pole to pry up the roof a few more inches so he could slide out.

His head was bleeding, but not severely. He back hurt, perhaps bruised, but not broken. His chest was tight, making it hard to breath, but his lungs were not punctured. He was okay.

Let me re-stress the fact that he fell in the only place, the only direction it would be possible for him to have been and not broken any bones - the only place he’d have a half-way decent chance to live. The only place. Anywhere else, and he’d be dead.

Secondly, the fact that my brother and I were there in the first place is more than coincidental. Had we not been there, I doubt he would have been able to get out on his own. Had we not been there, to think realistically, he would have been standing in a slightly different place, done everything a slightly different way, making it very likely the car shed would have fallen in a different manner - making his chances of survival all the more slim.

What’s more is the fact that had we not been there, no one would have known for four days. His wife was out of town until Monday. He could have been stuck under a roof, trapped, hungry, and bleeding, for four days.

Now, albeit there could have been other scenarios - I admit that. The cynic in me cries out that, had my brother and I not been there (or had we gone there earlier as planned), then the roof probably wouldn’t have fallen on him at all. In a sense, through fate, my brother and I caused his injury.

The Christian in me says this is an act of God. Not a miracle, but just short of one. It has to be. The chances of the coincident of both him falling in the only spot to survive and the fact that we were there and his wife is gone are enough to make me think God had to play a roll. Of course he does.

I’m a cynic, by nature. I look at the dark, wretched truth. But from time to time, a bit of light and a bit of faith can bring out the optimist in me.