Bright Explosion in the sky
A light that burned my eyes
Made me come alive
I thought I'd seen a sign
I prayed that I was right
As tears filled my eyes
Blurred the scene
Now a sun inside me burns
Bleaching all my bones
And the rising smoke
Will carry me away
To another place
I never lost my faith.
Just my way.
I exploded into life that day.
I'll never look back.
No one can take these feelings away.
I'll never go back.
Embrace
Exploding Machines
This New Day
2006
written by Embrace/Martin Glover
Couldn't express how I feel today in words I was happy with, so used someone else's. Normal service will be resumed a.s.a.p...
Saturday, July 29, 2006
Saturday, July 22, 2006
Science Of Silence
All of a sudden, I'm finding whether people respond to these blogs with comments and being something of tremendous importance to me. As you may have noticed, there is not much going on in the way of feedback on many of my posts.
Don't get me wrong, this isn't some kind of attempt at rousing a campaign where everyone posts comments on the time to massage my ego in some superficial way.
The reason I bring it up is because I had a moment today of thinking, 'this blog business is not doing anyone any good, there are so few positive responses, I should probably stop at the end of the month'.
How many times do I view prayer in such a similar way? That if I don't see some positive results to the effort put in, I may as well give up.
Then I wake up and realise that is the slippery slope to a 'me first' faith, where I believe as long as it's all good for me. I have spoken to people who have read my musings around here, and they have commented on it-so there has been a response, albeit a relatively silent one, and I won't necessarily see the results of anything positive to come through any of the words I post on here.
Sometimes it's like that with prayer too. I've got a list of 'old school' contacts, going back ten years or so from when I first became a Christian, that I pray for as regularly as I can. Some of these guys and girls are now off my radar in different parts of the UK if not the world and I don't see them very often, or at all.But I have to trust that God knows where they are and is answering my prayers for them, even though I'm left with silence for the time being.
What's my point here? I guess that just because I don't see things doesn't mean that nothing is going on.
Silence is not always an indication of inactivity...
Don't get me wrong, this isn't some kind of attempt at rousing a campaign where everyone posts comments on the time to massage my ego in some superficial way.
The reason I bring it up is because I had a moment today of thinking, 'this blog business is not doing anyone any good, there are so few positive responses, I should probably stop at the end of the month'.
How many times do I view prayer in such a similar way? That if I don't see some positive results to the effort put in, I may as well give up.
Then I wake up and realise that is the slippery slope to a 'me first' faith, where I believe as long as it's all good for me. I have spoken to people who have read my musings around here, and they have commented on it-so there has been a response, albeit a relatively silent one, and I won't necessarily see the results of anything positive to come through any of the words I post on here.
Sometimes it's like that with prayer too. I've got a list of 'old school' contacts, going back ten years or so from when I first became a Christian, that I pray for as regularly as I can. Some of these guys and girls are now off my radar in different parts of the UK if not the world and I don't see them very often, or at all.But I have to trust that God knows where they are and is answering my prayers for them, even though I'm left with silence for the time being.
What's my point here? I guess that just because I don't see things doesn't mean that nothing is going on.
Silence is not always an indication of inactivity...
Monday, July 17, 2006
moments vs movements
The latest Oxfam campaign update was basking in the extreme heat of my flat hallway as I arrived home from work today.
I opened the envelope and cynically began to look for the bottom line, namely 'how-much-do-they-want-from-me-now?'
It was all so different a year ago. I stood in Hyde Park at Live 8, pledging my support in the campaign to make poverty history.
And yet today my little world is finding that promise such an inconvenience.
So what's wrong? Is it just me or is this a wider thing? I'd dare to suggest it's a wider thing, because it's easier to live for the moment, to say I was there, than to take what you have encountered in that moment and run with it.
How many of the people who attended Live 8 where there simply for the satisfaction of saying 'I was there' rather than to be able to tell their grandchildren that they had responded to a call to help neighbours they have never met.
I expect at this point you are thinking I am about to launch into a rant about the selfishness and evil of the 21st century, but it's a big old internet and there are people who do that much better than me...
But I want to think about the preaching of Jesus. How he often attracted a crowd when he rolled into town. People who listened, responded to the teaching and even became professing disciples. And yet we read in John 6:60-69 that many of those who had heard Jesus firsthand decided that they'd heard one challenging teaching too many, that enough was enough and that following Him was just too hard and too great a cost.
They were prepared to follow Jesus for the moment, but not join the movement.
And I then think long and hard about those if have known over the years, who promised to join a movement and only stayed for a moment before turning their back on Him.
I pray that they'll find their way back home.
But before an attitude of smug superiority is allowed to arise, then I remember the attitude I had towards the Oxfam letter. That I have it within me to follow the easy path, to revel in saying I was there, but when in reality my attendance had no lasting impact on my lifestyle.
So I have to choose to reaffirm my promises to be part of Oxfam's charitable movement. And I choose to ask for the strength to stand committed to Jesus, echoing Peter's response of 'Lord, where else shall we go?' rather than listening to the temptation to abandon commitment to Jesus' movement and opt only for momentary involvement.
I opened the envelope and cynically began to look for the bottom line, namely 'how-much-do-they-want-from-me-now?'
It was all so different a year ago. I stood in Hyde Park at Live 8, pledging my support in the campaign to make poverty history.
And yet today my little world is finding that promise such an inconvenience.
So what's wrong? Is it just me or is this a wider thing? I'd dare to suggest it's a wider thing, because it's easier to live for the moment, to say I was there, than to take what you have encountered in that moment and run with it.
How many of the people who attended Live 8 where there simply for the satisfaction of saying 'I was there' rather than to be able to tell their grandchildren that they had responded to a call to help neighbours they have never met.
I expect at this point you are thinking I am about to launch into a rant about the selfishness and evil of the 21st century, but it's a big old internet and there are people who do that much better than me...
But I want to think about the preaching of Jesus. How he often attracted a crowd when he rolled into town. People who listened, responded to the teaching and even became professing disciples. And yet we read in John 6:60-69 that many of those who had heard Jesus firsthand decided that they'd heard one challenging teaching too many, that enough was enough and that following Him was just too hard and too great a cost.
They were prepared to follow Jesus for the moment, but not join the movement.
And I then think long and hard about those if have known over the years, who promised to join a movement and only stayed for a moment before turning their back on Him.
I pray that they'll find their way back home.
But before an attitude of smug superiority is allowed to arise, then I remember the attitude I had towards the Oxfam letter. That I have it within me to follow the easy path, to revel in saying I was there, but when in reality my attendance had no lasting impact on my lifestyle.
So I have to choose to reaffirm my promises to be part of Oxfam's charitable movement. And I choose to ask for the strength to stand committed to Jesus, echoing Peter's response of 'Lord, where else shall we go?' rather than listening to the temptation to abandon commitment to Jesus' movement and opt only for momentary involvement.
Saturday, July 15, 2006
There's Got To Be Hope
We had to call the police at the youth event I help out with last night, to help deal with some guys who refused to leave after we asked them to because their behaviour had become unacceptable.
When they arrived, one of them ran away prompting the police officer in attendance to comment that this particular boy now 'had his card marked'.
I shared with the team afterwards that so often we accept that certain things are set in stone. It is likely that the kids who got in trouble with the police last night will continue on that path, but it's by no means definite. I don't have to agree with the police officer that this kid is always going to be trouble.
The reason why we work with these guys is because we believe that there is another way, and that the example of the Christians they come across at our events hopefully points out that lives can be changed and turned around.
I say hopefully. The days we live in are extremely cynical, and hope often seems to be relegated to the small print, not something to be spoken about.
But hope remains real.
Hebrews 11:1 tells us that 'faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see'.
Without faith in God, I'd have no basis on which to hope for anything better and no reason to be confident that things can change, no matter how it appears to look on the surface.
I can dare to have faith that there is more going on than I can see, and hope for better, because God is alive and active in this world.
Hope remains real.
When they arrived, one of them ran away prompting the police officer in attendance to comment that this particular boy now 'had his card marked'.
I shared with the team afterwards that so often we accept that certain things are set in stone. It is likely that the kids who got in trouble with the police last night will continue on that path, but it's by no means definite. I don't have to agree with the police officer that this kid is always going to be trouble.
The reason why we work with these guys is because we believe that there is another way, and that the example of the Christians they come across at our events hopefully points out that lives can be changed and turned around.
I say hopefully. The days we live in are extremely cynical, and hope often seems to be relegated to the small print, not something to be spoken about.
But hope remains real.
Hebrews 11:1 tells us that 'faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see'.
Without faith in God, I'd have no basis on which to hope for anything better and no reason to be confident that things can change, no matter how it appears to look on the surface.
I can dare to have faith that there is more going on than I can see, and hope for better, because God is alive and active in this world.
Hope remains real.
Monday, July 10, 2006
A Fool's Story
"What is this I hear Mr. Noyce? Have you been disgracing yourself again?"
Not the words of my displeased boss, or even of unhappy parents.
They do, in fact, belong to one of my close friends. But what would prompt such blunt words, stopping just short of telling me to act my age?
Allow me to explain. Upon my return from a week's holiday in Tenby, he was offered the chance to see the video footage of my latest act of buffoonery, wrestling with a 4ft inflatable crocodile. (I was going to put pretending to wrestle in that sentence, but I feel I need to be honest on this blog. And, for those of you that know me or were first hand witnesses, I was trying hard, the crocodile wasn't really interested in wrestling.)
Now, I have been known to be easily goaded into silly, often dangerous dares, which is ironic considering that I am at heart, quite shy and introverted. But, for some reason, the prospect of being the centre of attention in ridiculous circumstances is something I seem to be able to get involved in with very little effort and, indeed, thought.
But the comments did get me thinking. Having been involved in a few (i.e. many) stupid dares and situations, I feel that I have to keep going on with them, upping the stupidity stakes again and again. But why? I guess the honest answer will be because I fear people will then stop liking me. That seeing Paul be zany is the only reason that they hang around.
I like to think that I have better friends than that, and I think I'm right.
But looking at it another way, how often do I try the very same thing in my relationship with God? That if I do certain things, then He'll stick around and be interested in relationship with me, but that He might stop loving me if I for example, stop being busy doing youthwork in the evenings or that if I stuff up with some stupid, secret sin.
The things that I do cannot encourage God to love me more. So no matter how many hours of youth work I do or how many prayer meetings I attend, God's love for me is already off the scale.
And there's nothing I can do that will stop God from loving me. Yes, I cause anguish and disappointment when I betray him, but the love doesn't end and He offers me redemption through Jesus.
At some point, my friends will, no doubt, reach their embarrassment threshold with me, and I'll do something so dumb they'll never want to be near me again. But God's love keeps on giving and will always go on giving grace, even to fools and losers like me.
Grace. Even for people who wrestle with plastic inflatable crocodiles.
Not the words of my displeased boss, or even of unhappy parents.
They do, in fact, belong to one of my close friends. But what would prompt such blunt words, stopping just short of telling me to act my age?
Allow me to explain. Upon my return from a week's holiday in Tenby, he was offered the chance to see the video footage of my latest act of buffoonery, wrestling with a 4ft inflatable crocodile. (I was going to put pretending to wrestle in that sentence, but I feel I need to be honest on this blog. And, for those of you that know me or were first hand witnesses, I was trying hard, the crocodile wasn't really interested in wrestling.)
Now, I have been known to be easily goaded into silly, often dangerous dares, which is ironic considering that I am at heart, quite shy and introverted. But, for some reason, the prospect of being the centre of attention in ridiculous circumstances is something I seem to be able to get involved in with very little effort and, indeed, thought.
But the comments did get me thinking. Having been involved in a few (i.e. many) stupid dares and situations, I feel that I have to keep going on with them, upping the stupidity stakes again and again. But why? I guess the honest answer will be because I fear people will then stop liking me. That seeing Paul be zany is the only reason that they hang around.
I like to think that I have better friends than that, and I think I'm right.
But looking at it another way, how often do I try the very same thing in my relationship with God? That if I do certain things, then He'll stick around and be interested in relationship with me, but that He might stop loving me if I for example, stop being busy doing youthwork in the evenings or that if I stuff up with some stupid, secret sin.
The things that I do cannot encourage God to love me more. So no matter how many hours of youth work I do or how many prayer meetings I attend, God's love for me is already off the scale.
And there's nothing I can do that will stop God from loving me. Yes, I cause anguish and disappointment when I betray him, but the love doesn't end and He offers me redemption through Jesus.
At some point, my friends will, no doubt, reach their embarrassment threshold with me, and I'll do something so dumb they'll never want to be near me again. But God's love keeps on giving and will always go on giving grace, even to fools and losers like me.
Grace. Even for people who wrestle with plastic inflatable crocodiles.
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