Don’t Know About You, But I Am Un Chien Andalousia

The men’s meetings at church have been abolished by the leadership. Only God knows why. It probably has something to do with me and my trenchant, odious mouth. There was a lot of talk, that’s all. High talk. Nothing of substance. Flatulence. Finest vanity I’ve seen in my whole short life.

Now: silence, wondering, and more dreaming.

Something going on in Florida proved to be a sad distraction away from what God was saying to the group, to the important issues being brought to bear in the hearts of men on the local level. There is so much I would like to write about the Florida thing, but I won’t. Suffice it to say that a temporary miracle (they are all temporary) is not as important as the message of the cross: sinful man, blood atonement, wonderful Redeemer, and Him crucified. Any great “move of God” that isn’t ensconced in a message of repentance, godly sorrow and the Cross is questionable, miracles or not. That’s what defined the movements of the Wesleys, Jonathan Edwards, George Whitefield, Charles Finney, and D.L. Moody, as well as (obviously) the message of the apostles and prophets. I haven’t heard much of that coming out of Florida. It surprises me how long Todd Bentley can talk without ever getting into the Word. I like what Gamaliel said: “If this counsel or this work be of men, it will come to nought: But if it be of God, ye cannot overthrow it; lest haply ye be found even to fight against God.” On the other hand, I won’t favor Gamaliel’s counsel over Jesus or Paul or John. False prophets are out there, and they prophesy--they don’t churn butter. False teachers teach. Things have to be questioned, proved, tested. Jesus said people would stand before Him proclaiming miracles they did in His name, and He would say “Depart from Me, I never knew you.” There has to be more than emotions and miraculous signs.

And anything God says or does in the church-at-large should not detract from what He is stirring at the local level. This is where I feel we crashed and burned.

More than ever I wonder what I’m doing, what my purpose is, why I go to church. The church is in as much of a dark age as those precipitating the appearance of John the Baptist and Martin Luther, but as in Laodicea there is no acknowledgment or recognition. Sometimes I feel like the only one awaiting not a great end-time revival, but a great falling away. I am weary of this world: I want to see Jesus.

And I also wonder why God doesn’t always give an answer or bring clarity. There was no divine intervention or obvious “present word” when Paul and Barnabas argued over John Mark, or when the early church debated whether Gentiles should be circumcised. They just had to hash the thing out and sometimes division resulted.

There was extreme drama in the family for the past few weekends. My mother has sold her house in North Carolina and is moving to upstate New York, where she was born. My siblings are not on speaking terms.

The guy I’ve been training for the past four months quit last week after being disciplined by our supervisor. He was a mere eight days from taking his driving test, and he was definitely ready to pass it. Nice kid. I miss him, especially since I don’t have his help anymore and my days last week were all 12+ hours. I felt bad that he quit, since he’d worked so hard for so long and was on the verge of getting his Class A license.

I am waiting, holding myself before the Lord in every sphere: job, vocation, finances, church, living situations, relationships. I was thinking this morning that no matter where I have been in life He has always been present, has always given me hope. The early church sang this song:

If we died with him,
we will also live with him;
if we endure,
we will also reign with him.
If we disown him,
he will also disown us;
if we are faithless,
he will remain faithful,
for he cannot disown himself.