A Christmas Story

F-E-A-R

/ Ragamuffingospelfan / 2 Comments

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“God is love. When we take up permanent residence in a life of love, we live in God and God lives in us. This way, love has the run of the house, becomes at home and mature in us, so that we’re free of worry on Judgment Day—our standing in the world is identical with Christ’s. There is no room in love for fear. Well-formed love banishes fear. Since fear is crippling, a fearful life—fear of death, fear of judgment—is one not yet fully formed in love” (1 John 4:17-18, The Message).

Everyone has fears. Everyone.

Maybe yours is a fear that you will end up alone in the end.

Maybe you’re afraid that people will see the real behind the well-rehearsed act and the painted-on smiles and not want to have anything further to do with you.

Maybe you’re anxious over the future, wondering where the money is going to come from to pay the bills.

Maybe you’re scared that you’ll never find out what your purpose in life is.

Ann Voskamp put it best: “All fear is but the notion that God’s love will end.”

As a black pastor put it so well, fear is False Evidence Appearing Real.

Fear only shows you half the picture. Fear envisions a scenario where God either isn’t present or is unwilling to help. Fear leads you to think that the way things are now is how it will always be.

But God’s love is stronger than fear. As the song says, “Every fear has no place at the sound of Your great Name.”

When you focus on fear, you live defeated. When you focus on the love of God and choose gratitude and thanksgiving and joy, you’re showing fear the door.

Choose joy. Choose gratitude. Choose life.

I’m not saying I have fear and anxiety mastered. Some days, it can feel overwhelming. But I know that the future Jesus has promised me is more real than the present fear that I’m feeling.

Perfect love casts out all fear. Just remember that.

 

 

Bob Dylan on the Brain

/ Ragamuffingospelfan / 2 Comments

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I’ve been listening to a lot of Bob Dylan lately. As a sort of challenge to myself, I decided to listen to his albums in order starting from his eponymous debut in 1962. Currently, I’ve got his 1980 album Saved playing in my car.

It’s interesting to see how he evolved from a traditional folk singer into something much harder to define. He had his folk-rock era, his country era, his singer-songwriter era, and his gospel era. That’s as far as I’ve gotten. And I’m fairly certain at this point he’d rather not be pigeon-holed into any kind of genre or musical style.

I do like his Christian albums. Both the ones I listened to were recorded and produced in Muscle Shoals, Alabama, which has a very rich musical history. I recommend the documentary about that town and its music.

I’m not going to speculate about whether those albums were a phase or he had a genuine conversion experience. Only he and God know that. I will go on record (pun intended) to say that he made some really great music during that time, in my humble opinion.

My Bob Dylan pilgrimage will end with the latest album of his that I own, his 2009 record, Together Through Life. I don’t have the last two he recorded.

What’s the point of all this? That I like Bob Dylan? That I’m a big musical nerd? That I have too much free time on my hands? Yes, yes, and yes.

 

 

 

Ohhhhhhhh, Fudge– Yet Another Monday Morning in Perspective

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This was one of those kind of Monday mornings that make you want to say, “Ohhhh, fudge.” At least it did for me. And yes, I mean the kind of fudge like in the movie A Christmas Story.

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I was happily rolling along. . . well, at 5:30 am, it was more like sleepily rolling along to work. Then I looked up. It was either an 18-wheeler or large bus coming toward me, hugging the yellow lines. So I did what any red-blooded male would do.

I panicked.

I went to give the behemoth vehicle a wide berth and went too wide. My tires hit the edge of the pavement. It sounded like the whole side of my car was being shredded.

I managed to get to the side of the road. I was expecting to see gory car wreck carnage. Thankfully, all I saw was one fatally punctured tire.

I called AAA because I am mechanically challenged even when it comes to changing a tire. In my defense, those lug-nuts were on that wheel tight.

What was supposed to take 45 minutes or less took almost 1 1/2 hours. So I was late to work.

But after that, it got better. And I have to keep a few things in mind:

I’m sooo glad I had my AAA road service paid up.

I’m thankful I have a car to almost (but thankfully not) wreck.

I’m blessed to have a job to go to even if it occasionally starts at 6 am.

I’m grateful for a very understanding boss.

Most of all, I’m thankful every day that I don’t get what I deserve. I get grace instead.

PS  don’t suppose cussing in your head merits having to wash your mouth out with soap, right?

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