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Too much of a Martha, and not enough of a Mary.

I’ve been uncomfortable in my complacency for a couple of months now, yet too confused to do anything about it because it seemed that everything I have ever tried in the past has landed me right back where I started in beginning with more wear-and-tear than I bargained for. On Sunday I prayed and asked the Lord to do a work in my life – I laid the fleece out on the lawn, if you will. I prayed that He would reveal Himself to me and grab ahold of my heart.

I prayed that my Prayer Life would become real – not just going through the motions of asking for things when I’m in need, but that I would learn to praise Him when things are taking place that are perhaps unpleasant. I prayed that I would be more concerned with what God thought about my prayer life than what my prayers sounded like to others. God doesn’t care about fancy words and impressive praise — He cares about what’s in my heart.

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Challenge 11: Matthew 5:41-47 Essay Report.

What does Matthew 5:41-47 mean to a believer?

VS 41 – As Christians we should be willing to go the second mile and put in the extra effort. Back in “Bible days,” a roman could beckon a Jewish man to carry his luggage for a mile. However, Christ taught that the Jewish man should carry the luggage for an extra mile! What a great testimony to the Romans that the Jews allowed themselves to serve others with their time and abilities.

VS 42 – We should be willing to help others who are in need – not just by sharing our possessions with them, but also by giving them our time when they need help. We should also be willing to give and help others without expecting to get something back from them in return.

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Challenge 5: Matthew 5:1-12 Essay Report.

What does Matthew 5:1-12 mean to a believer?

This portion of Scripture has to be one of my absolute favorites among my many favorite passages.

Jesus was always teaching people – regardless of whether He opened His mouth to speak or simply lived His life in and out of every day. The truths taught in this passage of Scripture could have been learned simply by watching the life of the Savior without Him every teaching the Beatitudes from the mountain-top.

“Blessed are the poor in spirit: for theirs is the kingdom of Heaven.” We as mere human beings are nothing in and of ourselves, but in Christ we have everything we could ever want or need. We may not have much as far as riches go here on earth, but one day we will take up residence in Heaven.

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Why I’m A Baptist.

The following is the paper I wrote for the PH 305 Baptist Heritage class I just finished at the Antioch Bible Institute (ABI). I just finished my first semester (two classes) there and I believe I did quite well — thank God!

We just started the new semester this week and I am taking two classes again. Each class we are required to write a paper and turn it in with our course notebook on the last day of class. Here’s the paper I wrote for my Baptist Heritage course.

Why I’m A Baptist

Many people might say that I’m a Baptist by default. Being adopted into and raised in a Baptist home would definitely have an influence on which direction my faith would go. I was always taught about the fallacies of Catholicism, Lutheranism, Methodism, the Church of Christ, Hinduism, Mormonism – you name it and chances are I could tell you at least one reason why they were all false, or at least flawed, religions.

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Imposing a schedule.

Anyone who blogs regularly somewhere knows how much work it can be, regardless of how much you may enjoy it. Sometimes it’s hard to formulate into words what exactly you want to say. Sometimes it leaves your brain and emotions feeling absolutely fried. Sometimes it makes you want to pull all your hair out in frustration (although I’m 97.4% sure that the bald look wouldn’t suit me at all, so I’m trying to avoid that move as much as possible).

In the past I have shared my overly-booked, insane schedule with you all and most of you told me I was crazy (or something like that). Most of you also encouraged me to be careful not to stretch myself too thin, to pray about my schedule, to cut out the unnecessary stuff, or simply set aside the things the Lord hadn’t specifically called me to do.

Hence, this post…

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Bouncy Balls, Bible College, and Buffalo Wild Wings.

I arrived at the church early that morning. I always did. Being that my father was the Sunday School Director, he felt obligated to drag our family to church not just early, but obnoxiously early. Me and my father made our way to where general assembly was held — him carrying a bin of songbooks, toys, candy, and other Sunday School paraphernalia, and I carrying his large black Bible and my one-of-seventeen Bibles that didn’t happen to be lost that week. I took hold of the heavy gray door that led to the gymnasium and pulled it open, trying to hide the fact that it took more effort than I was willing to admit. I held the door as my father entered then followed him in allowing the door to close heavily behind me resulting in a loud “thud!”  As was typical I made my way to find a seat to relax in until assembly started, but then I noticed something not so typical.

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Prodigal: my testimony.

The story of the Prodigal has always hit a little close to home for me. Let me share my testimony with you all…

I was adopted at the age of 8 weeks old. You can read that story here. I was raised in a Christian home by parents who were constantly busy serving the Lord at the local church we attended. My brother made a profession of faith at a young age, and would continuously ask my mom when I was going to get saved too. Obviously, no one can “force” salvation on anyone else. Salvation is a work of the Holy Spirit – the convicting, the wooing, the saving, the sealing, the keeping – it’s all a work of the Lord. So my mother would tell him what any honest parent would tell their child: “I don’t know…”

Well, when I was 3 years old I began to grow tired of my brother constantly nagging me about this “salvation” business, so I knelt down by the love seat in our living room with my mother and prayed a little prayer – and with that I considered myself saved. *voila!* I was baptised by my pastor about a year later.

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