The Unseen World

By

This is my manuscript for the Baccalaureate service I was honored to speak at for Roanoke Bible College this May. Thanks to the folks at the college for allowing me the chance.


The Unseen World

5.9.08
For the students of Roanoke Bible College, Class of 2008

There are things about me that you can see: a thirty-something guy with a weak beard and floppy fingers.  A conspicuous lack of neck tie because I gave them all to the Salvation Army the week I graduated from Bible college.  I also ditched all forms of pant-wear but jeans and shorts, though in my old age I have been known to occasionally wear cargo pants on special occasions.  For the sake of graduating, I abided by my Bible college’s dress code in heroic silence, bearing the coat and tie and slacks the same way Jacob bore up under Laban’s workload for the sake of Rachel’s hand.  Here I am, tie-less, and hopefully not offending anyone.

Last year I was invited to play at the White House for members of President Bush’s staff who attended the weekly Christian Fellowship.  I was honored, to say the least.  And then I realized the awful truth that this was a situation in which I would have to wear a tie.  The day before I left I walked to my neighbor’s house to borrow one, then I realized that I didn’t have a coat either.  Then I realized that I didn’t own slacks, or a single belt.  “Ooh, do you by chance have a pair of nice shoes I can borrow too?” I said.  On my way out the door I realized that I also needed a pair of black socks.  No kidding, everything I wore at the White House the next day was borrowed (well, almost everything), and I had cause to reflect that all my college dreams had come true.  If you work hard, you too can have a career that doesn’t require slacks or a tie.

Thank you for having me.  Goodnight.

But seriously.  When I walked up to the podium you saw me, and began to fill in the blanks.  On the outside I’m not very complex.  Not much to look at, unless you ask my wife.  But I believe that it’s my responsibility to tell you about what you can’t see.  It would be easy for me to hide behind the suit coat and floppy fingers and talk about something that has very little to do with the constant play of light and shadow in my heart–and the heart is the thing that matters here.

There’s a story in 2 Kings about the invisible world:

The king of Aram sent a strong force of men to capture Elisha in the city of Dothan.  When Elisha’s servant saw the Arameans he shook in his boots and asked Elisha what they would do.  “Don’t worry,” Elisha said.  “Those who are with us are greater than those who are with them.”  Then Elisha prayed that God would open his servant’s eyes to see the unseen.  When the servant looked he saw the hills covered with horses and chariots of fire.

An army of angels surrounded them, which also probably means there was another, sinister force gathered in the unseen world.  Did you notice what he said?  “Those who are with us are more than those who are with them.”  So there was something else there besides the angel armies, which is enough to creep me out.  But the point is, all around us things are happening that we can’t see.  There are things happening inside of me even now that would shock you.

But it’s not just the spiritual world that is unseen.  It’s the world of our personal stories.  I stepped up to the podium with a long history of disobedience and shame, and victory and forgiveness.  Have you ever disliked someone until you heard a bit of their background?  Once you know them in the context of their greater story, you find the capacity to forgive.  Maybe it’s because you remember the seasons in your own life when you weren’t so fun to be around.  Maybe it’s because your heart now breaks for them and the burden they carry.  Whatever it was that bothered you about that person becomes a thing to love and to forgive them for—all because they have allowed you access to their story.

So the unseen, you see, is very important.

When I came here my insides were whirling with a whole universe of emotions and history and pain and excitement, and my impulse is to strive to cover it over and pretend like I’m comfortable when I’m not.  I want you to like me.  I want to be talked about positively after I leave the room.  Or negatively.  I don’t care as long as I’m not forgotten.  But I do care.  I’m desperate for friendship and companionship and validation and love.  Telling you this makes me uncomfortable.  It makes you uncomfortable too, I’d bet.

Are you squirming in your seat?  Because I’m only getting started.  I’m a sinner, of course.  Sometimes I’m short with my kids.  Sometimes I’m short with my wife.  Sometimes I joke in ways I shouldn’t, and sometimes I stare too long at the pretty woman on the airplane.  Sometimes I wish I was rich.  Sometimes I make strong judgments about people across the room based on nothing more than their hair.  Sometimes that room I’m looking across is the auditorium where my church meets.  Sometimes I gossip.  Sometimes I get mad at people in traffic.  This paragraph has gone on long enough, I think.

But wait—sometimes your motives are impure.  Sometimes you do truly good things for people, while in the back of your mind you’re wondering what you’re going to get out of it.  Sometimes you lie, too.  Sometimes you confess only a part of the truth because you’re hoping to save at least a little face.  Sometimes you fake smile.  Sometimes you fake laugh.  Sometimes you’re jealous of people who are better looking than you, better dressed than you.  Sometimes you resent wealthy people because you’ve never been wealthy and they don’t know how good they have it.  Sometimes you think about the kids in junior high who had the best BMX bikes and skateboards and shoes and you realize that you hated them when you were young.  You realize that you may not hate them anymore, but you still have a hard time liking them.

Everything that is hidden will be made known.

I don’t necessarily think that it’s the job of the preacher to always bare the sordid details of the darkness in their own lives, but it is the job of the preacher—of the Christian—to tell the truth.  If you stand before your congregation or your co-workers or neighbors and hide your heart from them then they will be interacting with only half of you, and you will be loving them with only half of you.  This doesn’t mean that every conversation with every person you meet should be a soul-baring confession session; it means that Christ gives you the freedom—his love gives you the freedom—to wear the pain on your sleeve just as much as the healing.  The two depend upon one another.  God’s power is made perfect in our weakness.

Frederick Buechner said that the story of one of us is the story of us all.  I have found in my music career that if I am willing to plumb the depths of my heart, willing to dredge to the surface those things that terrify me the most, and fashion them into a song, then it is those songs that proclaim God’s mercy the loudest.  It is those songs that I get the most emails and comments about.  Why?  Because that deepest, darkest part of us is the part that is the most common.  If you don’t think your heart has shadows in it, then you haven’t been walking in the light.

Christ, you see, illumines the cellar and its hidden passageways and begins the slow work of cleaning it out.  Becoming a Christian means that you have been forgiven, that you will continue to be forgiven, and that you have the Holy Spirit inside you to comfort and to guide.  But it is not the end of the journey, it is the beginning.  The dark cities you have built on the wasteland of your inner life must still be leveled, cleaned out, the weeds pulled up and the seeds planted and tended to.  Your walk with Christ is a long journey.  And it’s going to hurt when the roots of sturdy trees tunnel deep and branch out and give new life to places long dead.

Don’t be afraid to pay attention to what is happening inside of you.  Be willing to allow the Holy Spirit to have his way with you.  Then when you stand before your congregation, or your school, or your neighbor, bear witness to the painful changes that help you to be who you are, and who you’re going to be.

Paul cried out with such passion, such familiar heartache, “I don’t understand what I do.  For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do.”  “What a wretched man I am!  Who will rescue me from this body of death?”  I have wept this very lament, lying face down in my driveway in the dark of night.  I have have groaned it in my car, hunkered over the steering wheel with my heart heavy as stone, unable to drive for the tears in my eyes.  “I don’t understand what I do.  I don’t understand what I do.  I don’t understand.”

Then Paul remembers the gospel:  “Thanks be to God—through Jesus Christ our Lord!”  And just a few sentences later comes that glorious declaration:  “There is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.”  No condemnation, though my heart is weak with shame.  Though I hate myself.  I hate my sin.  Why, oh why do I continue to lust, why do I continue to worry, to loathe myself when I look in the mirror?  Why am I always so afraid?  Why, why, why?  Why, if I’m now in Christ, do I still feel so tired, so sinful?  Why am I so prone to wander, prone to leave the God I love?

“There is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.”  We have been set free.  Do you feel that relief?

That breath of clean air after all the smoke?  That sprig of hope pushing up through the wasted soil?

Resurrection surrounds us.  It is the heart of the story God is telling us.

But there can be no resurrection without there first being death.  There can be no towering oak but that the seed falls to the earth and dies.  There would be no forgiveness but that we broke the law.  The two together are part of one story.  And that story has the power, by God, to heal.

And yet we walk through our lives, through our ministries, with the focus on attendance numbers and programs and yearly budgets (all necessary evils), paying little or no attention to the unseen world.  The world of our private sorrow.  The world of the human heart.  The world of harrowing battles that rage around us, even when we’re sitting in Starbucks or standing in line at the post office, or on the stage in front of the audience.

There is a dark power in silence, in secrets.  We carry them like a disease, and like a disease they fester.

“Thanks be to God—through Jesus Christ our Lord…there is no condemnation.”  Again, that sigh of relief.  Again, the strength to smile.  Again, the feeling of waking to birdsong in April.  The darkness of the unseen world is great, but God’s love is greater, and it is in that love that our brokenness is fashioned into a song that can heal.  And that is something only Jesus could do.

I have heard too many sermons that left me feeling lonelier instead of less alone.  I have heard boisterous admonitions from the mouths of well-meaning preachers who were masters of exegesis but who were unwilling to quietly confess to their fear, unwilling to admit that they doubt, that there have been moments in their lives when they wondered if this wasn’t all a game.  And that confession is what I long to hear.  That quiet, humble admission of guilt is what I yearn for, because I sit in the pew a broken, confused, lonely man, even though my wife and children sit on either side of me.

I’m not saying that I’m always depressed and whiny, or that we the church should be so.  But I have found that when I reflect on the nature of my soul, I sense a discontentment.  Even though I’m a Christian, I get the feeling that something in me is not right.  And that is true.  Then I become aware with a surge of joy that Jesus of Nazareth is there in the brokenness, wading through the battle, crushing the enemy with the Word of the Father: “There is no condemnation for this one,” he says. “He belongs to me.”

Do you remember that we’re all in the same boat, and it’s taking on water faster than we can dish it out?  The best of us is capable of terrible things.  I remember hearing a pastor at his son’s ordination service tell him, “If you have sin in your life, your ministry will be ineffective.”  I nearly fell out of the pew.  I stand before you, living proof of the falsehood of that statement.  I’m not saying that it’s okay to sin.  I hope that much is obvious.  But the closer you grow to Christ, the more you know the great, loving, mystery of the mind of God, the more aware you become of your desperate need of him.  You learn that there is more about God to worship and exult in, and you learn that there is more about you that needs fixing.  Hopefully, you will find yourself less and less prone to certain sins because God is helping you to grow—but with each step deeper into his glory, more that is broken in you will be revealed.

My wife and I took a spontaneous trip to the Grand Canyon in her parents’ car when we were in college.  We didn’t see a thing wrong with taking that trip, and there wasn’t anything particularly wrong with it, I guess.  But it didn’t cross our minds to ask her parents if they minded that we put an extra 5000 miles on their car.  They didn’t let on that there was the least problem, then years later I realized that the car had been a lease.  When the lease was up Jamie’s parents had to pay a ridiculous amount of money for the over-mileage, and they never told us about it.  They absorbed it and didn’t complain because they loved us.  Now that I have grown up a bit and have learned more about the ways of the world, I blush for the thoughtlessness of that trip.  What I did was wrong and I didn’t even know it.  So it is with God.  The more I come to know him the more I see my need for him.  There are probably things that we’re all quite ignorantly doing right now that will fill us with regret later on.

Some close friends of ours attended a church that recently split.  The reason for the split?  A contingent of members believed that they no longer sinned.  That’s right.  Some of them claimed that it had been three or four years since they had last committed a sin.  It is my belief that these people are fools.  Their understanding of the nature of sin is much, much too small.  The very claim that they are not sinful is itself a sin.  The sin of pride, for starters.  This belief that the Church of Christ is a place where we come to be perfect with a bunch of other perfect people leads to a congregation of people who sit in the pews with nice dresses and suits, all smiles for the camera, afraid to admit to themselves that it’s all a lie.

I know of a pastor who houses filing cabinets full of visual filth in his basement.  Now, how could something so vile take root in his life?  Because he has ignored the unseen world.  Because he has hidden parts of himself from his elders and his congregation.  And for their part?  They are only willing to look on the surface of things too.

The unseen world is the important one.  Pull pack the trap door and let the light shine in on those dusty places.  Watch the insects scatter.  Walk into those places with Christ at your side.  Let him hold you.  Let his righteous anger and burning love change you.  Then tell about it.  Tell that story.

And when you tell it, watch the faces of the broken and exhausted.  Watch the faces of the confused and bitter.  Watch the faces of the lost.  They will soften.  The defiant, clenched jaw will slacken.  The creases in their foreheads will smooth out.  Their eyes will tear up.  They will hear the mighty Word of God in a way that they haven’t before. They will wet the feet of Christ with their tears.  They will long to hear the gospel again, and again.  Because to them, it is truly good news.

In the writing of my book, I learned something about God.  I learned that there is no story without conflict.  If I want Janner Igiby, my main character, to grow, and to learn, and to become who I see him becoming at the end of the story, then he’s going to suffer.  He’s going to find himself in terrible situations, beset on every side.  One author said that when you write a story you chase your main character up a tree, then you throw rocks at him.

You are in the middle of your own story, and the Author is leading you somewhere.  There will be much to be afraid of in your future.  You will find yourself angry at times, shaking your fist at the sky.  You will find yourself weary and worn thin.  Remember that the writer of your story is leading you to a good land.  He is making you into something unimaginably beautiful, a shining immortal, a prince or princess in his eternal Kingdom.  There will be journeys in the seen world, and there will be journeys in the unseen one.

Praise be to God that he is Lord of them both.  His footsteps rattle the ground of the unseen world, his voice thunders in the seen one.  They are both his domain.  Like it or not, if you are in Christ he will redeem them both.

Greater is he that is in us than he that is in the world.  Don’t be afraid.  Don’t be afraid to be known.  I pray that as you begin this next step in the journey, like Elisha’s servant your eyes will be opened and you will see that a shining host stands at the ready to lay waste to all that you fear.  In the world beyond the veil a great battle is being fought, and the way to enter that battle is to descend into the fray of your own heart with the Spirit of God before you, asking only that you trust, and believe, and obey.

May he give you eyes to see.

“I pray that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which he has called you, the riches of his glorious inheritance in the saints, and his incomparably great power for us who believe.”

Amen.

As a singer-songwriter and recording artist, Andrew has released more than ten records over the past fifteen years. His music has earned him a reputation for writing songs that connect with his listeners in ways equally powerful, poetic, and intimate. He has also followed his gifts into the realm of publishing. His books include the four volumes of the award-winning Wingfeather Saga.


25 Comments

  1. Dave

    I echo Paul’s statement. I really needed to be reminded that I was not intended to live this life by my own wits. Thanks for bringing into clearer focus the Story we’re in.

  2. Jayson

    If any of your fingers actually flop off completely rendering you unable to play the guitar, you could easily make it as a preacher!

  3. Robert McB

    Your story of the church split reminds me of something I once read about Jesus and the rich young ruler. The young man asks what he must do to inherit eternal life and Jesus tells him to follow the commandments. The young man responds, “This I have done all my life.” The comentator I was reading observed that this must have caused Jesus to chuckle to himself. He, of all people , knew the young man’s failings and the virtual impossibility that the man could, in his broken state, keep the comandments and live without sin.

    Since that reading, I often find myself laughing at myself when I have those momentary delusions that I am living without sin.

  4. Ron Davis

    I am also able to say that I don’t own a suit coat, dress pants, or a dress shirt. 🙂

    (I still have some ties, but they’re in a box in the basement…they’re only still around because nobody would buy them when we had our yard sale.)

  5. Molly

    So, was that the trip to Arizona when Rich was on the radio? Come again, sometime! We’d love to have you. 🙂 Thanks for sharing. MK

  6. Torie Brooks

    Thanks for coming and for sharing with us!! Everyone was thrilled that you came! Your words were well received. 🙂

  7. Kara Chase

    A chorus of brokenness…
    It’s a battle eveyday against the Eve within
    body and soul tainted with a nature of sin.
    Wrecked beyond a remedy that any soul could give
    Who would dare rescue me from the skin I’m in?
    ‘Thanks be to God for His unspeakable gift through Jesus Christ our Lord.”

  8. Curt McLey

    @curtmcley

    The same wisdom I first found embedded in the lyrics of Carried Along all those years ago, I still find whenever your pen touches paper, Mr. Andrew Peterson. As your pen is an instrument of your heart, so you are an instrument of our Father. Thanks for hearing and seeing so well, and finding the courage to communiate that which you have been shown. I am honored to be your brother in Christ.

  9. Ron Block

    @ronblock

    AP,

    Transparency – no one can relate to another without it.

    Personally, I haven’t sinned since 1968. And how’s your walk, brother?

  10. Wayne

    Andrew-

    I wish I had understood this better when I was the age of those you were addressing… or even your age 🙂

    Thank you for who you are in Christ.

    By the way, Ron just lied (sinned) in his reply 🙂 Too bad after such a long sinless streak.

  11. Peter B

    Thanks, AP. I could stand to hear this a few times a day.

    Now to beg for some open trapdoors and a pair of open eyes to go with it. I don’t mind telling you I’m a little scared…

  12. Tony Heringer

    I downloaded the speech and made notes as I read through it. You took the time to write and deliver this fine treatise. I wanted to share my thoughts as I read it. Good work Barliman!

    “Those who are with us are more than those who are with them.”

    In reading “The Shack” I was moved to tears at my forgetfulness of this point. There is a point where Jesus says to Mac (the main character – odd when the Trinity is also included in the book) is told that he is fearful because he is constantly projecting into the future without Jesus who will always be with him (and by inference you and I if we are in Christ).

    “Have you ever disliked someone until you heard a bit of their background? Once you know them in the context of their greater story, you find the capacity to forgive. Maybe it’s because you remember the seasons in your own life when you weren’t so fun to be around. Maybe it’s because your heart now breaks for them and the burden they carry. Whatever it was that bothered you about that person becomes a thing to love and to forgive them for—all because they have allowed you access to their story.”

    Many times…on a public level I’ve had this experience watching the Charlie Rose show. He tends to interview folks that I would disagree with or at least thought I did. One that stands out to me is Oliver Stone. I didn’t come away from the interview agreeing with the guy, but I had a deeper sense of his story. It allowed me to really take in one his finer works – World Trade Center.

    “Are you squirming in your seat? Because I’m only getting started.”

    Did you deliver this line as Al Pacino in “Scent Of A Woman?”

    “I don’t necessarily think that it’s the job of the preacher to always bare the sordid details of the darkness in their own lives, but it is the job of the preacher—of the Christian—to tell the truth. If you stand before your congregation or your co-workers or neighbors and hide your heart from them then they will be interacting with only half of you, and you will be loving them with only half of you.”

    Bonheoffer makes a similar point when discussing confession/accountability in Life Together. Transparency is so critical for a whole and healthy life. We all struggle to unmask ourselves and apart from the Spirit, I don’t think we ever fully come clean.

    “If you don’t think your heart has shadows in it, then you haven’t been walking in the light.”

    Sounds like a great country song lyric.

    “Who will rescue me from this body of death? Thanks be to God—through Jesus Christ our Lord!”

    One of my favorite passages in Romans, Paul’s desperate heart cry that we all share and can rejoice with our brother in the sure Remedy – Lewis’ Bleeding Charity.

    “The world of harrowing battles that rage around us, even when we’re sitting in Starbucks or standing in line at the post office, or on the stage in front of the audience.”

    Sitting in Starbucks reading this all I can say is Amen!

    “I remember hearing a pastor at his son’s ordination service tell him, “If you have sin in your life, your ministry will be ineffective.” I nearly fell out of the pew. I stand before you, living proof of the falsehood of that statement. I’m not saying that it’s okay to sin. I hope that much is obvious. But the closer you grow to Christ, the more you know the great, loving, mystery of the mind of God, the more aware you become of your desperate need of him. You learn that there is more about God to worship and exult in, and you learn that there is more about you that needs fixing. Hopefully, you will find yourself less and less prone to certain sins because God is helping you to grow—but with each step deeper into his glory, more that is broken in you will be revealed.”

    Which is why Paul can declare “Wretched man that I am!” – and who of us would say any less? Right on Barliman!

    “Some close friends of ours attended a church that recently split. The reason for the split? A contingent of members believed that they no longer sinned.”

    Charles Spurgeon ran up against this in his day. Can’t recall the fancy name penned to this theological bowel movement, but some sort of Gnostic nonsense to be sure. His cure for these “sinless folks” was to walk up to them and stamp hard on the person’s foot. I love Spurgeon!

    “Don’t be afraid. Don’t be afraid to be known. I pray that as you begin this next step in the journey, like Elisha’s servant your eyes will be opened and you will see that a shining host stands at the ready to lay waste to all that you fear. In the world beyond the veil a great battle is being fought, and the way to enter that battle is to descend into the fray of your own heart with the Spirit of God before you, asking only that you trust, and believe, and obey.

    May he give you eyes to see.

    “I pray that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which he has called you, the riches of his glorious inheritance in the saints, and his incomparably great power for us who believe.”

    Amen.”

    Amen and amen Barliman! The story and the battle we are in are so crucial for all of us. Too often as Michael Card wrote, we are “asleep on holy ground” instead of standing firm arrayed in the armor the Spirit provides. Thanks for the message bro!

    P.S. Regretfully we will not be able to catch your show tomorrow night. We will be retrieving our daughter from ballet camp. We will catch you next time you come through GA.

  13. Judy

    Thank you for this “heart eye” opener.

    Is there a podcast or audio version of it available?

  14. Andrew Peterson

    @andrew

    Sadly, no. I’m pretty new at straight-up public speaking, so I was hoping for a self-critique copy, but the college didn’t record it. Thanks so much for reading.

  15. Drew

    Thank you. It is so encouraging to know that a man we all look up to as a spiritual giant wrestles the same things we do. Your honesty has been a blessing and the truth you have reminded us of is a breath of fresh air.

  16. Jeff Koranda

    After reading your blog last week, it has been ringing in my mind the secreat and dark places we or I as a man hold on to like a treasure. I am constantly asking my self why can’t I turn over all to you God. Why am I so comfortable to keep you at an arms length when it comes to certain things? Is it not “cool” to be sold out to you, I ask my self?

    I write this in a bit of anguish and well, not despair really but turmoil might be a better way to describe it. I am struggling as a father to be consistent, I feel like one of those fathers who does do many of the “right” things, but whose heart is not turned completely to his family. I have glimpses of it from time to time, but I seem to loose my inspiration to continue on. This might sound like a weird way to describe my self but I feel “topical” like a topical bible sermon or study. I know God on a topical level; I don’t feel like I really know Him. I feel like I am just picking up the highlights of God and taking Him for granted and out of context, I am fitting who He is in to what I need Him to be for me. SELFISH!!!!!

    Scripture says to know Him is to love Him and I don’t know if I love Him. Can I answer the question about salvation? Yes, Do I understand the death and resurrection of Christ? Yes, Do I know that grace has been given to me with out any merit of my own, yes, I can go on and on with the head knowledge of what and who I think God is and what He has done for me, but my heart, my heart…………It seems unreachable, my faith is truly weak, I talk to my sons about the things of God, I teach them or I tell them that there relationship with God is primary, when in reality mine is anything but primary. My example is all over the map. I am perfectly willing to give God a resounding 88% of my life, because I just know that my way of keeping track of the other 12% is, in my mind “the best way”. “God I’ll take care of this area” is my motto. BLAAAAA!!!!

    What am I afraid of? Why do I not want to get to know Him or give Him 100%, What is stopping me from truly knowing God? I feel fake and fraudulent, two faced. But the thing is I seem to be alright with that in my heart, I know it is wrong, but frankly I do not care some times. I am a 39-year-old man with a wife of 19 years and 7 kids, and I write and say I don’t care!!! WHAT IS WRONG with me; if one of my boys talked like that I would be after them. With anger, not love, why is my first reaction one of anger and not there heart. I do not know how to die to self…everything is based on how it makes me feel. I get irritated when my 2 year old acts like a 2 year old. Dahh!! I fear I love them with the world’s kind of love and not Gods. See I can answer the questions, but do I believe in God’s love?

    I really am unloading here I know and I am. I am a prideful man, who pretends to be humble. I have words of encouragement for others but not many for my family. I have a way of looking at my boys that makes them sink, and I sink, I fear they respect me out of a fear of my temper instead as a man of God. I spend time with them and try to teach them and have some success with them, but I am really scared I am loosing there hearts, and my daughters I don’t even know where I stand with them…. they are young enough to think I am still pretty great, I think…I know I am not.

    And then your blog, wow! I thought I was the lonely one crying out saying why, why, why!!!! It is the selfish heart of this prideful man who has forgotten the FACT, that there is no condemnation to those who are in Christ Jesus!!! Like Paul said….and I think he shouted it….THANKS BE TO GOD THROUGH JESUS CHRIST OUR LORD!!!

    It really boils down to, the fact again that there is no condemnation, I am saved, but I am continually needing to be filled with the Spirit or in other words setting my mind on the things of the spirit, not the law or the world. Paul says that (God says that..) if you live by the Spirit of the one who is in you, you put to death the misdeeds of the body.

    AWSOME!

    I think that the longer I try to act like a man the world says a man is, the further and further I will find my self from God, but when I truly learn to walk in the Spirit then the true man will come out of the dark and hand over that 12% of this life I think I am controlling… (Fact is I am not, but I think I am I know God has not allowed this to happen just so He can watch me squirm my way to hell but to SHOUT OUT to me COME BACK TO ME!)

    Drinking from the shallow pool of water is less satisfying; I desire to drink form oceans of living water of the Father. Thanks for jabbing at this simple mind…He is real and He does Love me and has not wandered away…. He is Faithful and He is long suffering!!

    Thanks Man!!!

    God Bless

  17. Mike

    Just this weekend I was told I was going to hell by a guy who thinks that my relationship with Christ is based on keeping a set of rules. I don’t believe it but I sure needed to hear this. Its like the trip home from the mall after I bought Love and Thunder. Like the Father saying here Mike, I had this guy write something that you need to hear. He’s gooooood. Real good. Thanks AP for being a tool. You may be rusty, but you work as good as new.

  18. Lee Modlin

    Andrew…thanks once again for speaking at baccalaureate. I can honestly say that it will be with me forever. Thanks for making a special event that much more special to all of us involved. We really do appreciate it.

If you have a Rabbit Room account, log in here to comment.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *