Try Time Travel For a Powerful Life

God has given humans the ability to travel into the past or a possible future. Our mind flies forward to see things that are going to happen; that friend we are going to see gives us joy even before he arrives. That rendezvous with the grouch- of-the-week makes us tremble, even before it happens.

A real key in a powerful life is to see what God wants to do before we get there. We don’t always know the specifics but we always know God has this future in his hands. Try to see it the way He wants it to be.

If you want to rip all the joy out of life today, imagine all the bad things that can happen in the future. Corrie Ten Boom once said, ““Worry does not empty tomorrow of its sorrow, it empties today of its strength.”

At times the future scares me, because I feel inadequate for what I imagine might happen. I also get excited about the future when I see a ton of good things that might await me. What’s the difference?

Most people say that imaginary things aren’t real, but I’m not one of them. It’s crazy the effect they have on our lives. When I see a bear hiding in the darkness near the road I’m traveling on, I’m scared to death whether there is a bear there are not. I tremble, my heart beats faster, my peace is gone.

The bear may be imaginary, but he’s changed my life.

Time Travelers Sink Millions

Twelve spies traipsed off into the Promised Land. Millions of people had been exploring this Promised Land in their imagination, but they hadn’t been imagining a lot of problems. It’s not wrong to think of future problems. It’s just wrong to think about them and not count on God’s help.

Now the time had come to take hold of their promise. The spies walked through the land, their heads swiveled right and left. “Wow, look at that city! Look at how fertile this land is. But look at how strong those people are. They’re big. They are mean. I feel like a grasshopper standing alongside them.”

And they begin to travel to the future and see themselves stomped into the ground in any battle they might have with these people. Ten of them painted such a negative picture of the future that millions of people began to howl in defeat.

Before one single arrow had been fired!  Continue reading

Survivor of the Scorpion War

I survived the first war of the scorpions.

Four years ago I stayed in a duplex located in the countryside for about five weeks. Birds sang, crickets cricketedand I could see a beautiful lake from my front door.

And I was nervous and on edge for five weeks. Drought bit the Texas countryside at the time and it must have brought out the scorpions. I never saw so many scorpions in my life—in the kitchen sink, climbing on curtains, lurking on the bathroom floor, in the garage.

At the end of five weeks the score was Porter 30, Scorpions 0. That’s how many scorpions felt the pain of the underside of my sandal or whatever I found at hand to whap with.

The music of the countryside sounded like: “Tweet, tweet,” “cricket, cricket,” “WHAM!”

“Take that!”

I said the score was 30-0 in my favor but that’s not all the truth. I didn’t get stung but they had me spooked. I was afraid to put my foot on the floor at night without house-shoes. I left my house-shoes on the nightstand or a chair where the little rascals couldn’t sneak in and wait for my innocent toes to wiggle in and stab me with their scorpion stinger.

The truth was that the psychological score was Porter 30, Scorpions 300. They took a lot of joy out of my life.

Although who knows, a mama scorpion who sees a size 11 sandal smash the life out of her beloved young scorpion offspring would probably be traumatized, too.

So maybe it was 300 to 300.

That was why I was a little leery when we moved back into the same apartment recently for five months of visiting churches in the USA.

You know what? The house had been sprayed and I’ve haven’t seen a scorpion, spider or anything except several dead crickets.

And the birds still sing, the crickets, the ones that don’t get too close to the house, still cricket and I’m really enjoying living here. Beautiful countryside. In the morning I step out in front of my house and look at that little lake and praise the Lord.

So, what’s the difference, David? You didn’t get stung last time so what’s the big deal? Continue reading

One Shade of Blah!

frownWhat do you do when someone tells you to be happy and you don’t feel happy? And what’s more, you don’t even want to be happy? Well, maybe you’d kind of like to be, but most of the time you’re not. You not really sad either as far as that goes.

You just are.

Your life isn’t characterized by brilliant blues, reds, yellows or greens. And not even shiny black. Color you grey and not several shades of it either.

I knew a guy one time that could take the color of life from me with the sound of his voice. I could be sitting at my desk, joyfully listening to the birds singing, basking in a soft sunshine streaming in my window. Suddenly the phone would ring and I heard his voice.

Instant depression. That guy could send Zig Ziglar into despair. Continue reading

Come Out and Go In …Quit Walking In Circles

They say that as people get older they forget things. I wouldn’t know because I’m still so young and dynamic, but can you imagine how it would be if you walked out of the front door of your home and realized that you’d forgotten where you were going?

I can’t remember if I’ve ever done that, but it would be quite a problem if I had.

That happened to God’s people once. God brought them out of Egypt to bring them into the place He had promised them. And they spent forty years wearing ruts in a desert circle. Actually, they never forgot where they were going. The problem was that their head was so full of where they came from, that they often looked looked back instead of forwards.

Which is surprising because where they came from wasn’t pretty. That’s why they were in the desert. They griped so much about slavery that God delivered them. Then they griped about the desert. Then they griped when they realized that their promised home wouldn’t be given them on a silver platter without a fight. Continue reading

Are You Complaining About “Misery Food?” (some rights reserved)

Your attitude towards food can reveal your heart.

When I used to joke about my hapless efforts at the culinary arts, I thought I was kidding. No more. After many years of trying, I’ve come to the conclusion: I’m a lousy cook.

Recently, my wife’s two nieces came for a visit and she went out gallivanting with them, seeing the sights all over, leaving me to fend for myself for my meals. (Do you feel sorry for me yet?)

One evening I finally got sick of kebabs, frites, and whatever and decided to make a real meal. So, I went to the grocery store looking for something prepared that I could warm up (that’s almost real).

My eyes lit on a package labeled “moussaka.” I had eaten this Greek dish when I was in Albania and loved it. Good idea David. Go for it.

At home a problem set in. As I looked at the package to see how long to warm it in the oven, I could only find instructions for the microwave. We don’t have a microwave. “Anyway, it must work about the same if you put it in the oven,” I reasoned.

So, I put little holes in the plastic on top of the container and shoved it into the oven. (That’s what you do for TV dinners isn’t it?)

After a while I went back to see how my work of art was doing. It looked as if the plastic was melting towards the top of the food. Continue reading