Saved and Forgiven

      Most of the week I run around like a head with its chicken cut off, with too many irons in the fire, red hot and ready to go, only to discover I’ve gotten the cart before the horse, so I drop those projects, just for a moment, while I run off to put out a fire I had forgotten about. Have you been there? Some of the time when I get there, I’ve forgotten why I went there in the first place, but I always find something to do while standing there trying to remember why I was there. That’s when I get side-tracked, remembering and restarting what I got side-tracked from about an hour ago. Eventually I get back to the irons in the fire and decide they have to be used now, but then I remember why I went for what I needed, the cattle, only to find myself standing in the pasture not remembering why I went there, then getting side-tracked, again. Everything eventually gets completed, not necessarily in the planned order of priority, and the week comes together satisfactorily on Friday afternoon. All seems to go quite normal except when the computer crashes and demands a reboot because I have too many programs running at the same time. Or, the electricity decides to momentarily blink off then on, a span of two and one half nano-seconds, resulting in the loss of valuable computer entries not saved over the past twenty minutes, my bad. When I figure I couldn’t possibly get any busier, the phone decides to start ringing off the hook. “Hello; Hello? …No, sorry, this isn’t Churches Fried Chicken!” I love my job.


      A family moved into a new neighborhood and the man and woman of the house decided they needed a night out away from the children. A sitter was hired from a local professional service, which turned out to be a very nice young college student earning some extra money. All was well until bed-time. One of the boys kept sneaking out of the bedroom, down the stairs, and the sitter had to keep chasing him back. Soon the doorbell rang. “Is my son here?” asked the neighbor. The sitter replied, “NO!” A small voice from the top of the stairs said, “I’m here, mom. He won’t let me go home!”

      [Luke 18: 9-14] There was a young preacher who was very confident that his sermon was going to be great. He had all kinds of, somewhat arrogant, confidence in his own ability to preach a dynamic and forceful sermon. As he got up to the pulpit, grabbing the sides of the podium, he opened his mouth to begin his sermon, but he couldn’t say a word. Nothing would come out of his mouth. He tried again, but he couldn’t get a word to come out. Finally, after several attempts, he hung his head, very much humbled, and sat down. A wise older gentleman was overheard saying to his pew-mate, “If he’d have gone up there like he came down, he’d have come down the way he went up there.” Ooooo, I’ve been slapped down humbled by my God several times. I used to have to be the loudest, the most knowledgeable, the first one there and the last one to leave. I still get loud and want to tell it all, but not to be the center of attention any longer. I know someone out there is going to say, “You’re still that way!” and all I’ve got to say is, you haven’t known me very long. I still have attitude, but my Lord has been working on me through His Word and what I would like to say sometimes, just doesn’t come out anymore. Cold crow and humble pie are not my favorite dishes and that’s what gets served up on the roadway outside of God’s Kingdom. Physically, I’m forgetful and humbled. Spiritually, I’m humbled and forgetful. Yet, I’m saved and forgiven.