Month: October 2009

The Power of Words and Wonder of God

I’ve had my head in the book of  James  a fair bit lately and I’ve been struck by the wonder and beauty of the gospel of  Jesus Christ.  The message of God’s grace to us by sending His son to die for our sins and the wonderful news of the new life we have in the risen Christ is a precious gift.   I am awestruck at how all this fits into the majestic and eternal plan of God that He has for his people.   It is something I think about every day.

As I focus and appreciate the wonder of God, I am also challenged to have a greater appreciation for the power of His Word.  The wonder of God’s glory displayed in His word  is something I don’t always understand or appreciate the way I should.  I take for granted the power that is found there.  This power that I find in reading His word has allowed me to get through the difficult times, the lonely times, the times that I just wanted to give up.

wonder

It is through these hard times that I discover what a wonder that my God is!  God superseded the laws of nature to be born a human being.  Nothing is beyond His ability; His love for us stops at no limits to exercise itself for our complete welfare.

He who once miraculously gave His  Son wrapped in human flesh can send me the most precious of blessings in the plainest packages.  Let the wonder of our Savior’s birth convince us once and for all that we ought not expect God’s ways to coincide with our earthbound thinking and desires.  God’s rescue plan for mankind required going beyond human comprehension.   I have no struggle with trying to understand the wonder of God.  He is magnificent and I am amazed that He chose me to love.

This thing I ponder…  in the solitude of  my heart:

What God accomplishes in my  life cannot always be gauged by appearanceThese truths have become very real in my life… Life won’t always be great.  I will not always be happy.  These things are left for eternity.

If loneliness grieves me, if circumstances distress me, I must not conclude that God has turned from me.  It is through these very things that he can bring about the fulfillment of what He, in His love, is planning for my eternal benefit.  His ways are not my ways.  He often acts in ways that are mysterious to me — these “ways” are a wonderful display of His power, love, and discipline.  My failure as a believer is not in His plan for my life.  The self-inflected or unintentional trials that I  go through are ways for me to grow in my spiritual walk.  My goal…is to withstand the test and receive the blessings from Him when I endure through these hard times.

Blessed is the man who perseveres under trial, because when he has stood the test, he will receive the crown of life that God has promised to those who love him.
When tempted, no one should say, “God is tempting me.” For God cannot be tempted by evil, nor does he tempt anyone; but each one is tempted when, by his own evil desire, he is dragged away and enticed. Then, after desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin; and sin, when it is full–grown, gives birth to death.
Don’t be deceived, my dear brothers. Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.
He chose to give us birth through the word of truth, that we might be a kind of firstfruits of all he created.
(James 1:12-18)

When things don’t go exactly my way, and I don’t receive what I want, all too often I think that God has withheld from me something good, even something I need.   I’m tempted to sin to get the circumstances I want, and I blame God for not just giving them to me.   But what I fail to realize is that only good things come from God.  He has given me the greatest and most perfect gift – the Word of truth, the gospel of Jesus, through which we receive eternal life (the crown of life) and belong to God to become more like Jesus Christ.  The trials, difficult circumstances and challenges we face in life are the examples that James says we are given for that very purpose…to become more Christlike.

I know where the solution lies.  It’s not in exerting more religious muscle or trying to beat myself into spiritual shape, but it’s in turning again and again to Christ.  To drink deeply of the wonder of His grace so that God’s glory in Christ would be my greatest desire and joy.    That by grace alone, through faith alone and in Christ alone I can receive the Crown of Life when I withstand the trials of this life.  Now those are Words of Power and a example of the Wonder of God.

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Hey…What’s in Your Bag?

I love to watch people.  Now before you think I am some stalker that looks into windows, I guess I should clarify that I love to go and sit in the food court at the mall and watch people as they walk through the halls.  Try it sometime.  You would be amazed at what you see.
115688937_e1e36d13d9Do people really take a good look in the mirror before they step out for a night on the town?
On a recent visit to a local mall, two ladies that I have never met, sit at the table next to me.  As a result of their boisterous voices, and maybe my curiosity in their conversations, I learned quite a few things about them.  I learned what they like to eat, watch on TV, and how if their husbands would only listen, their lives would be so much happier.

On this specific day, one of them had been on a shopping spree.  Nothing too extravagant, but Dollar General, Wal-Mart, and the Dollar Tree had proven to be a landslide of savings for her that morning and she was very pleased.  She had 3 or 4 large plastic bags with tons of goodies, and I heard as she went one by one through every item and how much she had been able to purchase it for.  Was I jealous?  Nope, I’m tickled to death to see anyone keeping the economy going.

As I heard her sing the praises of her cautious buying, and how now she was the proud owner of all these items, I was reminded of a scripture I had read earlier this week.

“And beside this, giving all diligence, add to your faith virtue; and to virtue knowledge; And to your knowledge temperance; and to temperance patience; and to patience godliness; and to godliness brotherly kindness; and to brotherly kindness charity. For if these things be in you, and abound, they make you that ye shall neither be barren nor unfruitful in the knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ.”
– II Peter 1:5-8 –

I listened as she had added to her snow village collection, and found another item she had been searching for, and in the end how happy it made her.  Then it hit me, I am keenly aware of my “baggage” of burdens and bad attitudes I pick up everyday, but what have I put in that bag that would make me  a better person?  Or even a happier person?  I took inventory of the items I’ve been told to go looking for in my life, that don’t cost me anything except for the desire to search for them, and wondered how I’ve done in my expedition.

bags

Are my spiritual shopping bags full of the spoils of a successful trip?  Have I added to the measure of faith that I’ve been given any virtues?  Have I added knowledge, and maybe some self control?  Am I securing items in my life that in the end, will make me fruitful in what I overall seek; knowledge of Him.  I’m pleased to say I have found some of these items, but my search continues.  How about you?

Let Go…

Something to ponder…

expensive-vaseBilly Graham tells a story of a little boy playing one day with a very valuable vase.  The little boy had put his hand into it and could not get his hand out.   It was stuck and he could not get his hand out the small opening at the top of the vase.  His mother and father tried their best to get the child’s hand from out of the vase.  They tried and tried and it still would not come out.  It was all in vain.

The only solution was to carefully break the vase so that the child would not be cut by the sharp pieces of the ceramic shards as they broke it.

Just before the father raised a small hammer to break the expensive vase, the father had an idea.  “Now son, let’s try one more thing before we break this vase.” the father said.  “Open your hand and hold your fingers out straight like mine are”  as he demonstrated with his own fingers for his son.

To his astonishment the child said, “O no, father.  I couldn’t put my fingers out like that, because if I did I would drop the penny I found in the vase!”

Smile, if you will – but thousands of us are just like this young boy.  So busy holding on to meaningless things that we forget the important things in life.

What things do you need to let go of in order to help you become a better person?  Would it be pride?  Anger?  Selfishness?

Whatever it is…let go and see what God can really do in your life.

The Hard-Luck Life of a Browns Fan

This is a re-post from an excellent article that Geoff LaTulippe wrote for ESPN.  I could not have written it any better or had my thoughts and feelings penned any more accurate than this post.

From one Browns fan to another…I hope you enjoy…

In reality, it all began Jan. 17, 1988.

Yeah, OK, the hooks were in place way before that — I was born in Berea, a Cleveland suburb, and even though I lived there for only a year, I’m too loyal for my own good. The Browns were my team by birthright, not unlike jaundice or fetal alcohol syndrome.  pg2_e_latulippe_300

But on that fateful winter day — I now was living, by some cosmic joke, in Denver — the 9-year-old me was packed with my father into the decidedly unfriendly confines of Mile High Stadium for the AFC Championship Game. Broncos versus Browns. John Elway versus Bernie Kosar. Dad versus hypothermia. Destiny.

Of course, you remember that game by two nauseating words: “The Fumble.” (Seriously, I could barely type that.) I remember it as the day all my hopes and dreams collapsed, died, caught on fire and then were urinated on by the universe.

I remember it as the day my lot in life as a Cleveland Browns fan was cemented. It didn’t dawn on me at the time as I bawled my eyes out, with the Denver fans throwing paper balls and ice at me, that my hyperemotional response was a contract. They had me. They were the Ike to my Tina. For life. A life of professional sports disappointment, pain, and Sundays full of deep-seated anger and regret.

Nearly 22 years later, I watched Sunday as we lost for the 12th — 12th, so help me God — consecutive time to the Pittsburgh Steelers. In between The Fum … the aforementioned AFC Championship Game and now, we’ve had a mere five winning seasons, a laughable four playoff appearances and three expletive-ridden years of inactivity after Satan himself ripped our beloved Browns out of Cleveland in 1996.

(Side note on Art Modell: I have so much seething hatred for you that it defies any rational explanation, so I’ll just say this: Wherever you are right now, I hope you are sad, alone and in severe physical pain.)

So … what am I still doing here? Honestly?

Well … honestly, I can think of 10 reasons I haven’t given up on the Browns:

10. When we DO win — and oh, one day we will — it is going to be the most magical, terribly profound thing that ever was. At this point, I’m willing to bet that it will be more important and satisfying than my wife and kid, neither of which exist at the moment.

Look at Red Sox Nation — 2004 happens, and everything is whisked away in an instant without a care. What curse? Babe Ruth what? Bill Buckner who?

Can you imagine the most painful memories of your failure-riddled brain laid fallow in the passing of one moment? Red Right 88, The Drive, The Fum … the aforementioned AFC Championship Game, the Modell Move … all of them gone? Forever? One Super Bowl win. That’s all it takes.pg2_g_browns_fans_300

Of course, you sort of have to ignore that, as an organization, the Browns are light years away from that moment in the talent department, the owner is apparently allergic to good coaching moves, they try to kill all their best players with staph infections and … screw it, I’ve just decided to go curl up in the fetal position and cry myself to sleep.

But then again, if the Arizona Cardinals can get to a Super Bowl …

9. I love being from an underdog, disrespected city like Cleveland — especially compared to the other AFC North locales. Consider what we’re up against:

Pittsburgh: America’s crotch. Literally one of the worst cities on the planet. Full of toothless mountain people. Looks from above as if someone decided, “You know what I’m going to do? Cut out a huge chunk of one of the worst sections of Eastern Europe and drop it in the middle of Pennsylvanian Appalachia.” At the end of the day, the Cleveland Browns suck, but at least we’re not from Pittsburgh.

Baltimore: A city of hypocrites and degenerates. Cried (rightfully) for nearly a decade and a half, not just about losing the Colts, but about how they lost them … and then accepted another team stolen under eerily similar pretenses and jackassedly supported it with nary a peep. Hang your head in shame, Baltimore.

Cincinnati: It’s Cincinnati. I don’t have the heart to say more than that. I can’t even hate the place. It’s … Cincinnati.

Up against those three, Cleveland is like a bright, shining Metropolis of the Future. All we ever did was set our lake on fire. Remember, we had Jim Brown. And then there’s the whole existence of Skyline Chili. I’m telling you, Cleveland … things could be worse.

8. We’ve got Josh Cribbs, the most electrifying player in the AFC. Even though no one we’ve hired as coach is smart enough to figure out how to use him consistently on offense. And he’ll probably be gone in two years after forcing a trade that he’ll want only because owner Randy Lerner refuses to renegotiate the contract extension he signed a couple of years ago that he’s outplayed by, oh, infinity.

But no, it’s a great idea to ignore the best Sweet-Jesus-there’s-no-way-to-stop-him player we’ve had since Eric Metcalf.

I’m going to have an aneurysm.

7. For Bernie Kosar. For Eric Metcalf. For Clay Matthews, and Hanford Dixon, and Frank Minnifield, and Brian Brennan, and Webster Slaughter, and Reggie Langhorne, and Steve Everitt, and Eric Turner, and Kevin Mack, and Leroy Hoard, and Michael Dean Perry, and for all those guys in the mid-’80s/early-’90s who played their hearts out for us every fall weekend and, for reasons we can’t comprehend, just barely came up agonizingly short.

pg2_a_byner_200But especially for Earnest Byner. EB, you’re not the reason we lost that game, and you were a cornerstone on one hell of a team. You deserve a hug, a clean record and way more respect. I’d say you deserve forgiveness, but there’s nothing to forgive. On behalf of the city of Cleveland, thanks for laying it all out there for us. No way one mistake can erase that.

If you’re a real fan, gut-wrenching defeat is not something you discard a team for — it’s something that fuels your lunatic devotion. Give up on everything these fellas fought so hard for? No chance.

6. No more Braylon Edwards. Ever.

5. Because one day I’ll be able to say, “No more Derek Anderson. Ever.” Incidentally, this day cannot possibly come soon enough. It also should not be confused with the organization’s stance on Brady Quinn: “No more Brady Quinn. Ever. Because a subpar performance by a third-year QB who’s little more than a rookie in terms of experience — with tenuous coaching staff support after a protracted, unnecessary and unrealistic preseason position competition — against two currently undefeated juggernauts and three of the top defenses in the league is enough to convince us that there’s absolutely no way the kid can play, and we are smart, smart peop … ooooooh look, a squirrel!”pg2_g_quinnb_200

4. I have no sense of pride, logic or reality. Also, I hate myself.

3. Any win, no matter how putrid or improbable (see: this season at Buffalo) is cause for manic celebration.

Remember when we kicked the crap out of the Steelers in 2003? Or when we crushed the Ravens in 2004? Or when we somehow managed to string three wins in a row together in 2007? Remember???

Me neither. Because like every other Browns fan, all of these events led to my brain melting, serious confusion, me stumbling out of my place of residence in a fog and eventually ending up in a bar plastered out of my mind on glee and light beer.

Coincidentally, this is pretty much the same thing that happens after a loss if you’re a Browns fan, except you drunk-dial ex-girlfriends just to breathe heavily and hang up, curse Phil Savage at the top of your lungs to no one in particular, vomit in front of a police officer and black out in what you think is an angel cloud but is actually a bush full of thorns and hornets.

Or maybe that’s just me.

2. All joking aside, I love the Browns. They cause me near-constant frustration and heartache, but that’s the price you pay when you become attached to a pro sports team to which you have only an imaginary philosophical connection. I won’t bail and support another team just because mine sucks, only to come back once we experience a modicum of success. What do I look like, a Patriots fan?

1. That afternoon in 1988, while I cried like an idiot, my dad put his arm around me, had a chuckle and told me it would all be OK. We’d win one day. Since my dad is the Greatest Guy Who Ever Lived, I know that’s true. He wanted me to keep the faith. So I will.

I mean, why else would he have given up his Sunday to head out into the bitter cold to watch a game he couldn’t have cared less about?

Thanks, Pop.

Win or Lose….I will die a Browns fan. Thanks to Geoff LaTulippe for a wonderful article.

86,400 and Counting….

Every day we are given a gift of 86,400 seconds of life to spend and invest.

Each day the bank named “TIME” opens a new account in our name.  It allows no open balances and no overdrafts.  If we fail to use the daily deposit, the loss is ours.

How are you “spending” your time?

What are you doing to “invest” your  time so that you do not waste it ?

Remember…time here on earth is a gift, but it will not last forever.  Spend it wisely.

Stupid, Ridiculous and Glorious

Maybe it’s just me… but I love a blank sheet of paper.

There are not many things I love more than having a free evening, a cup of coffee in hand and a blank sheet of paper in front of me.  I love it even more when I fill that sheet up with words.

What is exciting to me is that I never know where it is going to take me.  It is always an adventure as to where I will end up.  Each and every time I plan on writing about something specific I never do.  I am never able to plan it out like that.  I just let the story or subject just flow out of my memory.   I like the thrill of looking at a picture or listening to some music that bring back some memories and I just love to let it flow from there and see where it takes me.  It is probably why my writings are so disjointed sometimes.  Like I have always said… I love to write, I never said I was good.

They say that hindsight is 20-20, and I guess it’s true.  When I look back into my past I see the paths that I have walked…some well worn paths and others where I only see my lone footprints.  Each path has a memory, some good and some not so good.  Regardless, they are paths that I have chosen to walk and the end result of  my wanderings have given me a valuable cache of  lessons learned.

This evening  was no different from any other night.  I sat down with a wonderful cup of coffee and I started staring at the blank page in front of me.   I was wondering where it will take me tonight.  Just then a picture that is in a small frame sitting on my office desk caught my attention.   In that frame is a small faded picture of me and Bryan Blakley.  That picture was taken  just before we picked up our dates for the Homecoming Dance in 1976.  We were desperately trying to look cool in our leisure suits and long hair.  We failed.

For some reason I started to think about Bryan.  I had known him for over 40 years.  I do not really remember a time when he wasn’t part of my life.  From about the age of 6 to 17, I cannot think of one thing that I was a part of that he wasn’t involved in some way.  He and I played together and fought together.  We did just about everything together…whether that was skipping school…going on a double date or just hanging out.

One of my favorite remembrances of him was a time that we walked home from the fair about the time we were 16.  We had just spent the last night of the fair walking around checking out the girls and just having a good time.  Nothing of real significance happened that evening at the fair.  As a matter of fact, I don’t really remember anything specific even happening.  Just the two of us acting stupid, (and again) trying to be cool.  We failed again.

The fair had closed for the night about 11:30 and Bryan and I decided to walk home that night.  The Ottawa County Fairgrounds is located about six miles outside of Oak Harbor, Ohio.  At 16, the premise of walking six miles to home on a hot summer night seemed to be perfectly logical.  I remember that it was pitch black that night.  It seemed you couldn’t see past your next step.  We took our time.  There was no need to hurry.  Didn’t seem like there was that much to go back to.

Maybe it was just the mood we were in or maybe it was because it was so dark you couldn’t see your hand in front of your face.  I remember it like yesterday.   What I remember is that Bryan and I talked about everything on that long walk home.    We talked about our childhood, our families.  We talked about music,  what we liked and disliked.  We talked about girls.  We talked about our future.   He told me what his plans were for his life. Bryan wanted to leave the tiny confines of Oak Harbor, Ohio.  He wanted to see the world and the sooner the better.  For me,  I wasn’t exactly panicked about my plans.  I don’t think up to that point in my life I had ever given a second thought about what I was going to do with my life.  Hey – I was sixteen years old.  To me, the future was for someone else to worry about.

Then the subject matter changed.  We started to talk about what we believed in.   Bryan was asking all kind of questions.   That was really odd for Bryan, because there were topics he just would not discuss.  But not this night…we talked about everything.    Bryan knew me as well as anyone can know another person at 16.  We were as close as brothers.  He knew I went to church but I never once considered sharing my faith and what I really believed in to anyone before, especially him.  I mean. he knew my weaknesses and he knew my failures as well as anyone could.

But on this night, this dark ridiculous night, I shared my faith and told him what I believed.  Maybe my boldness came from the fact that it was pitch black and I could not see his reaction to my words, or maybe Bryan couldn’t see my hands shaking in fear, but for whatever reason I said it out loud.  Bryan never said a word in argument.  He just kept asking questions and I tried to answer them as best I could.  Soon our conversation drifted to another subject and nothing more was discussed about our faith and what we believed in.

We had walked almost all the way to town when suddenly Bryan and I stopped talking.  It seemed as if there was nothing left to say. I suddenly had the over whelming feeling that somehow that night I walked out of my childhood and into the next phase of my life. I wanted to stay there, in that night… more than anything I wanted before.   But I knew I couldn’t.   I was sixteen.   I slept under a roof my father owned, in a bed my father bought.    Nothing was mine, except my fears.   And my growing knowledge that not every road was going to lead home anymore. Things were about to change.  Walking through that neighborhood I grew up in, I realized that there was a time I knew every family on the block.  Their kids, names of their dogs, but most of those families were gone now.  Scattered.  The ones who stayed were not the same.  The world was moving on.  My world… their world.  And only the lights remained the same.

We didn’t really accomplish anything that night.  At least that is what I thought at the time.  Our remaining high school years that lay ahead would find us moving in different directions.  There would be other nights where we would hang out and try to be cool.  We always failed.  But the sad truth is there wasn’t ever another night just like that one.   That night and the long walk home will always be set apart in my memory and in my heart.

Over the next 30 years when our paths crossed and we would always talk and we knew that there would always be a special friendship between us, but it would never be the same as it was growing up on that alley between Walnut and Washington Streets.

Last year, Bryan’s mom passed away.   I had the extreme privilege to express my love and thankfulness for a woman who I could call Mom as easily as my own mother.  I knew Bryan had taken her death very hard.  I wanted to talk to Bryan that day, but I could see he was, as all of us were, extremely saddened by her death.  A few days later, I received an email from him.  And if you would allow me, I would like to share a portion from his letter…

Dave,

It made my day seeing you as always and I cannot express how much I appreciate your speaking at Mom’s funeral.  I do not even know how to say it, but let’s say that losing my Mom has been really hard on me.  But I know that she is in a better place and her suffering is gone.  I know I will see her again.

As you may or may not know this has been a heck of a year. 2 years in fact.  The worst time in my life physically.

I really don’t like email that much.  It seems so impersonal, especially when talking with you.  Business is different these days…I still prefer face to face or at least on the phone.

It was really great seeing you, and I wanted to let you know, even though I don’t talk about it, I wanted you to know that I am a Born Again Christian. We talked about that a long time ago when we walked home from the fair. Remember?   It has taken me a long time to come to this decision, but I have accepted Him, into my life.

I struggle with sharing it with anyone because of some of the things I have done.  I wanted you to know and I would love to speak with you about that.

Tell your Mom and Dad I said Hello…

Anyway, I am getting long winded here.

Warm Regards,  Bryan

I called Bryan a few times over the past year.  Not as many as I now wish I would have.  We talked, and talked.  About everything.  Telling stories and having a time of laughter and glorious memories.   We talked about his decision to follow Christ and how he wished he had lived his life differently.  I just reminded him that God’s grace is sufficient to cover even his worst sin.  He was forgiven and accepted…regardless what he did in his life.

Then few months ago, I received a phone call.  I just couldn’t believe the news on the other end.  Bryan had passed away.  I was already reeling from the loss of my closest friend (Bob Emrich) in May and now my childhood friend was gone as well.   I was shocked and in some ways I am still not over the loss of my two closest friends.  For whatever reason, God sometimes allows people to be taken very quickly from us.  Many times, so fast that we never get the chance to say the things we needed to say.

I will cherish that time.  The last conversation with him was no different from the conversation I would have had with him over 30 years ago when we walked home from the fairgrounds.

Our lives indeed took different paths but we will always share the common bond we found in what we call family.

Simply put, Bryan was a very good man…that loved his wife, his daughter, his step-children, his mother and father, his brothers, his relatives and his friends.  I loved him as a brother.

In closing, the lyrics to one of my favorite songs goes like this…

In Christ, there are no goodbyes
In Christ, there is no end
So I’ll hold onto Jesus with all that I have
So I can see you again.

Bryan…I miss you my friend and brother… I cannot wait until I get to see you again.

Our reunion will be…stupid, ridiculous and glorious.


 




I Think God is Trying to Tell Me Something…

Maybe it’s just me…but when I read the Bible, sometimes I think God is trying to tell me something.

Duh…really?  I know that sounds stupid.  However, I have come to the realization that many times when I read the Bible, I make applications to other people.  Meaning… I see the truth of what is communicated and apply it to other people and not as often to myself.  It’s like I read it and say “How does this apply to __________?” as opposed to “How does it apply to me?”.

One area that I struggle with application is  how many times God “name drops”.  Many times in the Bible, God introduces himself to his servants in the Old Testament, he goes into name dropping three ancient people- Abraham, Isaac and Jacob.

For example, in Exodus 3: 6, God told Moses, “I am the God of your father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac and the God of Jacob.

The questions that popped in my head are “Why? Why them? What’s with them? And why don’t we read of Him saying He is the God of Moses, Joshua and Samson?”  More importantly…how does this apply to ME?

Well, as usual, a few thoughts come to mind:

1. When God looks at us, He sees our families. God intended for families to be the natural channel of his blessings. It was not by accident that Jesus was born in the lineage of David.  God carefully chose that bloodline, that family for the Messiah.   God the Father willed it, ordained it, planned it and made it happen.

When the Philippian jailer asked about the way of salvation, Paul and Silas gave the classic answer that we often use to new believers today: “Believe in the Lord Jesus, and you will be saved– you and your household.” Acts 16:31. Here you see the obvious- the natural flow of the gospel trickles down through the blood ties of the family unit.

2.  An implicit promise is suggested in the way Abraham, Isaac and Jacob are mentioned. Notice that they comprise three generations of the same family, not some random guys from all over the place. It is as if God was saying: “I, the God of your father, is the same God who will take care of you, your children and the succeeding generations.” Now that is one promise every mother and father would want for their children.

I believe that the passing of your faith to your children is the best legacy you could ever make before you die. This is the only way you can be sure that your family line will endure with honor and grace.  Imagine it this way: Read Exodus 3:6 again and replace the patriarchs’ names with your father’s name, your name, and your son’s name. See how powerful and real this promise can be!

3. God’s Resume. Whenever you see Abraham, Isaac and Jacob lumped together in one sentence, remember that God is, in effect, making a statement. He is pointing you to His resume.  His track record of promises made and promises fulfilled here on earth.   Not one of those promises faltered for a thousand generations and that, I believe, is quite a resume to be reckoned with.  It’s like God is saying, “ David, I am the God of those three  guys in the past.  I have an unbroken record of faithfulness for thousands of years.   Yet you still want to question Me? “.

Yeah…I think God is trying to tell me something…but then again maybe it’s just me.

What do you think?