“Today we are going to draw a picture,” Timmy’s kindergarten teacher announced.

Good, Timmy thought. He liked to draw pictures. He could draw lions and tigers and trains and boats. He took out his crayons and began to draw.

But the teacher said, “Wait, it’s not time to begin.” She paused until everyone looked ready. “Now,” she said, “we are going to draw flowers.”

Good, Timmy thought. He began to draw beautiful flowers with his orange and pink and blue crayons.

But the teacher said, “Wait.” She drew a picture of a flower on the blackboard. It was red with a green stem. “There,” she said, “now you may begin.”

Timmy looked at his teacher’s flower. He liked his better, but he didn’t say anything. He just turned his paper over and made a flower like the teacher’s. It was red with a green stem.

A few days later the teacher said, “Today we are going to make something with clay.”

Good, Timmy thought. He could make all kinds of things with clay—snakes and snowmen and elephants and mice. He began to pinch and pull his ball of clay.

But the teacher said, “Wait, I’ll show you how.” And she showed everyone how to make a dish.

So Timmy rolled his clay into a ball, flattened it, and made a dish like the teacher’s.

Timmy learned to wait and watch and make things just like the teacher’s. And pretty soon he stopped making creations of his own.


Then one day Timmy’s family moved to another city, and Timmy started at a new school. On his first day, Timmy’s new teacher said, “Today we are going to draw a picture.”

Good, Timmy thought. And he waited for the teacher to tell him what to do. But the teacher didn’t say anything. She just walked around the room. When she came to Timmy, she said, “Don’t you want to draw a picture?”

“Yes,” said Timmy. “What are we going to draw?”

“Well, I don’t know until you draw it,” the teacher said.

“How should I make it?” he asked.

“Why, any way you like.”

“And any color?”

“Any color,” the teacher said. “If everyone drew the same thing in the same color, how would I know who made what?”

“I don’t know,” said Timmy. And he began to draw a flower. It was red with a green stem.

When Timmy was very young, he was robbed of his creativity. His teacher told him that there was only one way to draw a flower or shape a lump of clay.

You may be more like Timmy than you realize. You have the potential to draw outside the lines, to be creative, to use your talents and gifts in a remarkable and unique way, but the world has told you that you can’t do it.

The world we live in conditions us at an early age to believe that we all have to look the same, act the same, and think the same. The world tells us that we must walk in lock-step with them, through the seasons, through whatever it is. And we often blindly follow along. So, when we(I mean society, not the church) ring in the new year, we have to be at a party, dancing, drinking and waiting for that magical moment when one year rolls into the next. Next comes the month of love, and you are supposed to give out cards and candies with printing on them and be especially sweet to your special love. Then later on, when it’s time to party at Carnival, society says, go ahead, be vulgar and crude. It doesn’t matter what you do, as long as you do it in the name of fun. And if you’re a bit inebriated and do some really wild things…well, that’s just part of it. After all, this is your last chance before Lent and you have to be all spiritual for awhile.

Then there’s Easter, and we all pause to remember Christ rising from the tomb and we dare to imagine if God’s grace might cover us for all the stupid things we did at Carnival. But once that slips behind us, there’s a call to be a little wild at Spring break, and who are we to argue? Then it’s be nice to mom day. So we run buy cards and chocolate and some nice gift. When those hot summer days come, the world says, especially to the young…stay out late and explore. Do what you want, because after all, it’s summer. And many even in the church, follow that call. And in the middle of that, we stop and have a be nice to dad day. When society says that it is time to be patriotic, then we stand at attention and chant the pledge of allegiance and watch fireworks. Next we go back to school with little to look forward to except remembering those who work and remembering those who died in battle. When the season calls for halloween, society says buy candy and dress up, and do a few devilish tricks or be downright rotten and show a little of your dark side. And then, a few weeks later, when the calendar says be thankful, we gather and kill the fatted turkey, and talk about how thankful we are for all of God’s bounties…or at least for our own hard work that put all of the money in the bank and the food on the table.

And finally, we come to the Christmas season, and the norm is to act a little nicer, be a little more generous, let a few more things go that ordinarily we would nail people for, and of course, buy, buy, buy, so that our loved ones and significant people on our list will know that we love them, or at least would consider it a major faux pax if we were to not get them something. And then we start the cycle over again. And the scary thing is, the church is not far behind the rest of society in these things. What am I saying, that we shouldn’t celebrate holidays? Not at all. But we must recognize that we, like Timmy, have been programmed by society. And often, we go through the holidays and do everything the world does and never stop to think that we have been called to more. And when Jesus calls us to be different, we find it difficult, if not impossible, to respond to his call.

“Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind” (Romans 12:2). If we are going to live the miracle of Christmas all year, that is, live in the joy of Jesus all year, we have got to allow Jesus control of our lives and break out of the mold the world is trying to squeeze us into.

History Shaped in a Cradle

The year was 1809. The international scene was tumultuous. Napoleon was sweeping through Austria; blood was flowing freely. Nobody then cared about babies. But the world was overlooking some terribly significant births.

For example, William Gladstone was born that year. He was destined to become one of England’s finest statesman. That same year, Alfred Tennyson was born to an obscure minister and his wife. The child would one day greatly affect the literary world in a marked manner.

On the American continent, Oliver Wendell Holmes was born in Cambridge, Massachusetts. And not far away in Boston, Edgar Allan Poe began his eventful, albeit tragic, life. It was also in that same year that a physician named Darwin and his wife named their child Charles Robert. And that same year produced the cries of a newborn infant in a rugged log cabin in Hardin County, Kentucky. The baby’s name? Abraham Lincoln.

If there had been news broadcasts at that time, I’m certain these words would have been heard: “The destiny of the world is being shaped on an Austrian battlefield today.” But history was actually being shaped in the cradles of England and America. Similarly, everyone thought taxation was the big news—when Jesus was born. But a young Jewish woman cradled the biggest news of all: the birth of the Saviour.

Isn’t it amazing that we have gotten so good at determining what is important and what is insignificant? We are masters of deciding, in a split second, what really matters. And isn’t it equally amazing that oftentimes we are dead wrong in our assessment?

We ascribe worth to the worthless and demean things that are truly of value. We value cash in our pockets more than the homeless man on the street all the while saying that we believe in the sanctity of human life. We devalue what we don't like or don't understand and we place a higher value on what we wish we had.

If the Baby in the manger teaches us anything it is to assess our own value systems. He left the wealth of heaven to come to a sinful, fallen world. He valued YOU and me more than life itself. Now that's some value!!

The Quiet

Quiet reigns on campus this morning as Christmas break officially started yesterday. Soft Christmas Carols are playing in my office as I sit and wonder just where this year has gone.

It has gone unbelievably fast and will soon be only a memory with its events recorded in our personal history books. And yet, we find ourselves here again. Christmas. All the lights, the commercialism, the clogged parking lots, the TV commercials calling us to buy, buy, buy. And with relatives coming, or with us traveling to see others, we long for it to be a Hallmark Christmas and hope that our family can stay away from any hot button topics. And all of that simply adds stress to the season. And as if that weren't enough, we still have 4 more gifts to buy and a few more holiday parties to attend.

We have certainly learned how to celebrate haven't we? We take a good thing and add others expectations along with our own expectations, and pile them high and deep...and then collapse under the weight of them.

But perhaps this year, maybe just for a short while, we should ponder that it just might be possible that the Christmas season should actually be more about the Quiet. Perhaps we should say, "Be still my soul and ponder the richness of life." Ponder the things that have happened this year that have brought joy, or perhaps the things that have brought pain, yet pain that was beneficial for your own growth.


Perhaps you and I should make it a point to rediscover the Quiet. Take a few moments to sit quietly outside on a clear night and just drink in the view of the stars. Or get up early and make a cup of your favorite hot beverage and sit staring out the window and just be quiet. And ponder. And along with all of your other ponderings, ponder this: There is a God who loves you beyond words. He loved you so much that He chose to come in the form of a Baby. To the quiet of a barn stall. With animals as the only observers.

It is almost unimaginable. Almost. But try. In the Quiet.

Merry Christmas everyone!

On Mud Puddles and Growth

If the truth were to be known, I bet you had your time playing in a mud puddle. If not a mud puddle, then I know you’ve played in the dirt. Or made mud pies and then tried to eat them….Anyone here want to fess up?

For whatever reason, children love to play in the dirt or mud. I’ve watched as kids grab a handful of dirt and sling it up in the air, only to have it come raining down on them. I’ve watched the more artistic ones mold mud into some creative shape. Of course, it's understandable to see small children playing happily in the dirt. That’s what kids do. They play in the dirt or the mud.

But, if you looked outside into your front yard and saw a 35-year old man doing the same thing, what would you think? There he is happily slinging dirt in the air, or patting out a brand new mud pie and trying to eat it. You’d think he’d flipped.

If we drove down the rode in our neighborhood and saw grown men and women splashing delightfully in the muddied ditches, we'd shake our heads in astonishment.

If we happened upon deacons at our churches tossing dirt into the air and laughing happily as it landed upon their heads, we'd be concerned.

If we saw Sabbath school teachers, and pastors, and ushers and any adult from our church out there rolling around and eating "mud pies" we'd have to step in and say, "Something's wrong here—stop acting like children."


You know, that's something that the Apostle Paul addressed when he spoke to the Corinthians adults acting like children. In 1st Corinthians 13, he sums up what he’s been saying, “ When I was a child I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put away childish things.


He basically saying, "Something's wrong with your lifestyle here! Stop acting like children. Grow up. Stop getting yourselves dirty. It's time to stop wallowing around in the mud. It's time to stop acting like you did when you were just a babe in Christ.”

Christian, we face the same problem today in many cases. We have Christians who still act like children. They bicker and feud over petty differences. They pass on gossip and talk behind each other's backs. They act rudely and selfishly, filled with bitterness and jealousy. In short, they’re still slinging mud. Stomping puddles. Acting like children.

You know what? There comes a time when adults need to start acting like adults. And there comes a time when Christians ought to act like Christians. We are made in the image of Christ and we bear His Name!

If we have accepted Christ, we have a calling on our lives. We have to come to terms with that. Jesus accepts us just the way we are…but He loves us too much to leave us that way. He wants to grow us and mature us. He wants us to put aside our old life and become just like Jesus.

If you’ve been a Christian for over 5 years and you still have an angry bitter spirit, something is wrong. If you’re still bickering or gossiping, something’s wrong. If you are still acting rudely or selfishly or you are full of jealousy or pride, something is wrong. Paul is in essence telling you to grow up. It’s time to get a life. A new life.

Coming to Jesus is an important step, but it can’t stop there. Letting him work in your life to change you to become just like Jesus is a more important step.

Firing Blanks for Christ?

Roy Robertson was a soldier at Pearl Harbor in 1941: Listen to his words. "My ship, the West Virginia, docked at Pearl Harbor on the evening of December 6, 1941. A couple of the fellows and I left the ship that night and attended a Bible study. About fifteen sailors sat in a circle on the floor. The leader asked us to each recite our favorite Scripture verse. In turn each sailor shared a verse and briefly commented on it.

I sat there in terror. I couldn't recall a single verse. I grew up in a Christian home, went to church three times a week, but I sat there terrified. I couldn't recall a single verse. Finally, I remembered one verse - John 3:16. I silently rehearsed it in my mind. The spotlight of attention grew closer as each sailor took his turn. It was up to the fellow next to me. He recited John 3:16. He took my verse! As he commented on it I sat there in stunned humiliation. In a few moments everyone would know that I could not recall from memory even a single verse. Later that night I went to bed thinking, 'Robertson, you're a fake.'

At 7:55 the next morning I was awakened by the ship alarm ordering us to battle stations. 360 planes of the Japanese Imperial Fleet were attacking our ship and the other military installations. My crew and I raced to our machine gun emplacement, but all we had was practice ammunition. So for the first fifteen minutes of the two-hour battle, we only fired blanks hoping to scare the Japanese airplanes.

As I stood there firing fake ammunition I thought, 'Robertson, this is how your whole life has been - firing blanks for Christ.' I made up my mind as Japanese bullets slammed into our ship, "If I escape with my life, I will get serious about following Jesus." Roy Robertson did get serious. He became the first missionary of "The Navigators" and did a lot of work with Billy Graham as well.

Let me ask you a question this morning? Are you growing more mature in the Lord or are you firing blanks for Christ?

The Coal Basket

The story is told of an old man who lived on a farm in the Blue Ridge mountains of Virginia with his young grandson. Each morning, Grandpa was up early sitting at the kitchen table reading from his old worn-out Bible. His grandson, who wanted to be just like him, tried to imitate him in any way he could.

One day the grandson asked, 'Papa, I try to read the Bible, just like you, but I don't understand it, and what I do understand, I forget as soon as I close the book. What good does reading the Bible do?

The Grandfather quietly turned from putting coal in the stove and said, “Take this old wicker coal basket down to the river and bring back a basket of water.”

The boy did as he was told, even though all the water leaked out before he could get back to the house. The grandfather laughed and said, “You will have to move a little faster next time,” and sent him back to the river with the basket to try again.

This time the boy ran faster, but again the old wicker basket was empty before he returned home. Out of breath, he told his grandfather that it was 'impossible to carry water in a basket,' and he went to get a bucket instead.

The old man said, “I don't want a bucket of water; I want a basket of water. You can do this. You're just not trying hard enough,” and he went out the door to watch the boy try again. At this point, the boy knew it was impossible, but he wanted to show his grandfather that even if he ran as fast as he could, the water would leak out before he got far at all.

The boy scooped the water and ran hard, but when he reached his grandfather, the basket was again empty. Out of breath, he said, “See Papa, it's useless!”

”So you think it is useless?” the old man said. “Look at the basket.” The boy looked at the basket and for the first time he realized that the basket looked different. Instead of a dirty old wicker coal basket, it was clean. ”Son, that's what happens when you read the Bible. You might not understand or remember everything, but when you read it, it will change you from the inside out.”

Moral of the wicker basket story: Take time to read a portion of God's word each day; It will affect you for good even if you don't retain a word.

Worry? Who Me?

Most of us spend our lives worrying, don’t we?  We worry about how people will accept us.  We worry about our clothes—are they nice enough or with it enough?. We worry about acne.  We worry about our bodies—are we too fat or too skinny or too tall or too short or too ugly or somehow not acceptable.  We worry about our social status.  Will someone find us attractive or will they shun us? We worry about what the guy or girl on the other side of the classroom is thinking about us. We worry about school work—are we smart enough to handle it or will we come out failing?  We worry about projects and papers and quizzes and tests.  We worry about whether we can stay in school and pay the bill.  We worry about our jobs—at least some of us do.  Others haven’t gotten there yet as they joy ride around on the golf cart of life.

As we get older, we worry about our careers, and our income—will we make enough to pay the bills and survive in the lifestyle we’ve grown accustomed to?  We worry about who we will marry, or if we will marry.  We worry about whether we will be able to have kids, and once we have them, that gives us something totally new to worry about.  How will we feed them and clothe them?  How will we educate them?  How can we get them through childhood in one piece when they continue to fall down and break bones or stick screwdrivers into electrical outlets, or jump off of swings when they are at their highest point?  And how can we pay for the rising cost of Dr. bills when they do those things?

We worry that they won’t do good enough in school or that they get into too many fights or that they won’t be accepted or that they might fail and not only make themselves look bad, but make us as parents look bad too.

We worry about the perpetual cough that we can’t seem to stop or the fever of one of the kids or about our aging parents.  We worry about the doctor’s report that says we have a tumor and we worry about cancer or strokes or high cholesterol and heart attacks.    We worry about tornadoes and earthquakes and hurricanes and fires.  We worry about our kids driving the highways at much too high a speed.  We worry about the other people on the roads with our kids.  Some of them we worry about because they might be drunk and could possibly hit one of our loved ones…and some we worry about because they happen to be on the road at the same time as our kid who just learned to drive—and they don’t yet know the lack of experience that our kid has.  And so we worry, not only for our kid, but for the people our kid might hit.

We worry about divorce and our future.  We worry about death and how to face it.  We worry about hell and heaven.  We worry about our family members that don’t know Jesus.  We worry that we don’t know Jesus well enough.  And we hate the question put to  us—If you were to die right now, do you know where you would spend eternity?  That worries us.  In fact, have you noticed?  We worry about just about everything.

And right in the middle of all of our worry, Jesus speaks.

Matt. 6:25 ¶  “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? 26 Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? 27 Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?

Matt. 6:28 ¶  “And why do you worry about clothes? See how the lilies of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. 29 Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. 30 If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? 31 So do not worry, saying,  ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ 32 For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them.

That’s all well and good Jesus, but what do I do instead of worrying?  I mean, my life is eaten up with it.

And Jesus says, “I’m glad you asked!” Look at verse 33.

33 But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. 34 Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its’ own.

Do you hear God speaking to you this morning?  Don’t worry.  But Lord, I’m afraid that…and we continue our litany of worry.  And yet, over 200 times in the Scriptures, Jesus admonishes us to not be afraid.  And He adds His promises to help us realize why we don’t need to be afraid.  Ponder this.

John 14:1 ¶  “Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God; trust also in me. 2 In my Father’s house are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you. 3 And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am.

John 14:25 ¶  “All this I have spoken while still with you. 26 But the Counselor, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you all things and will remind you of everything I have said to you. 27 Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.

Over and over God seeks to calm our fears.  Over and over He wants us to learn to rest our worries in the strength of His love for us.  Time and again, God calls us to stop worrying, start trusting and enjoy life.