I often spend too much time in the past,
with my companion Regret.
Or, I hang out in the future,
where also lives Worry.
The best days are when I live in the present,
with my friend, the Holy Spirit of Jesus Christ.
With Him, there is no room for Regret or Worry.
Only Peace, Love, and Joy.
Quiet time.
I’m so grateful for the silence,
and the emptiness of activity.
Life is so loud sometimes.
I can’t hear even myself.
Definitely can’t hear God,
even though He’s right here within me.
But sometimes I squander the gift of quiet time.
Sometimes I fill it with my own noise.
Yet, once I empty myself of all the racket in my mind,
I can then see God, patiently waiting for me.
He’s always here, somewhere below my noise,
waiting for me to accept His gift of quiet time.
And I’m so grateful.
While reading a devotional this morning, I saw a new image for the book I’m writing about the truth of Christianity. The book is like a flawed jar of clay. It cannot help but be flawed, for it comes out of me and contains my flaws. But this book of imperfect and sometimes cracked clay is filled with the power and glory of God, for the words within came from His inspiration.
Just as I myself am a flawed vessel, filled with the Spirit of God – I like this image of the book I’m writing. For I write with God, my inspiration.
There were two separate times in my life, over 20 years ago, when I held my fresh-out-of-the-womb sons, moments after they were born. Even though I didn’t believe in Jesus at the time, I was convinced there is God. For I held miracles in my arms.
I fear that anyone who doesn’t believe in miracles is going through life with their eyes, and heart, closed.
Life is a smorgasbord for my ever-ravenous ego.
So many choices, all feeding my ego’s need for attention.
At work, the buffet sometimes overflows.
At home, there are snacks on every table.
Everywhere I go, everywhere I look, my ego finds something to devour.
Yet my ego is not my friend.
It resists my desire to wrest my eyes from the buffet,
and look more to the Holy Spirit of Jesus within me.
My hearts desire is that Jesus become greater within me,
and my ego becomes less.
It feels like the never-ending on-again, off-again diet.
Yet my diet coach is the very Son of God.
My ego against Jesus – guess who’s winning.
My ego keeps fighting for attention,
but Jesus in my heart is stronger.
And I’m so grateful.
For life is limitless without my ego holding me prisoner.
Behind the business park where I work is a ragged forest. Not much of a forest really. Mostly low brush, scraggly naked trees shivering against the winter cold, and scattered patches of mud.
And a homeless encampment. Peering through the trees, you can spot signs of life. A white plastic chair, a blue tarp tent, wooden pallet flooring to protect from the mud.
I believe if Jesus were here, rather than hang out at the church down the road, He’d go into the homeless encampment. I believe for Jesus, church is not a building, church is not a place. Church is hanging out with homeless people. Church is wherever you are. Church is the Spirit of Jesus within you. Church is you.
“Don’t you know that you yourselves are God’s temple and that God’s Spirit lives in you? … for God’s temple is sacred, and you are that temple.” (1 Corinthians 3:16-17)
“And in him you too are being built together to become a dwelling in which God lives by his Spirit.” (Ephesians 2:22)
“But Christ is faithful as a son over God’s house. And we are his house, if we hold on to our courage and the hope of which we boast.” (Hebrews 3:6)
Yes, my resolution is still alive, strong, and growing within me. How is your resolution (if you’re into that kind of thing)?
My resolution is to let the Spirit of Jesus become a greater part of my life, and have my self-centered self become a lesser part. As John the Baptist said of Jesus, “He must become greater; I must become less.” (John 3:30)
Am I doing any better at letting Jesus become a greater part of my life? Well, I’m not sure. My selfish ego is pretty stubborn, wanting all my attention, all the time. And lifelong habits are hard to change. But I take comfort in God’s promises, which are scattered generously throughout the bible. One of my favorites is…
“Delight yourself in the Lord and He will give you the desires of your heart.” (Psalm 37:4)
God will work my resolution within me. Can you trust God with your resolution?
I vividly remember reluctantly meeting them over ten years ago. I was walking back to work after my lunchtime visit to the nearby hardware store. She was sitting on the lawn by the entrance to the parking lot. He was standing by the road, holding out his handmade cardboard sign, hoping for a handout.
My feet wanted to take the long way around them. But my inner voice (yes, my voice of God), said, “Go talk with them.”
“No, please. Not today. I should be getting back to work.”
“CJ, you know what’s right. Do it, for me.”
“Okay, fine. I’ll go talk with them. But only for a minute.”
We hung out together for over 20 minutes. They told me their story. And when I went to leave, we hugged.
My inner voice of God is always right. I just need to listen more often.
I was on my way to the Philippines for work. Eleven hours trapped in this middle seat in coach – at least I’m in an exit row. But this guy next to me smells – different bathing practices than me. Strolling the aisle – plane full of faces, but no one familiar.
Finally arriving in Tokyo – three-hour layover, and gratefully able to stretch my achy legs. Wandering through the airport full of other travelers. Sure would be fun to see someone I know, but no luck.
Next plane and five more hours to Manila. Plane packed full, but at least I have an aisle seat. Still no familiar faces.
Manila airport; I’m all alone in a sea of people.
But I’m never truly alone. Sitting next to my stinky neighbor, the Holy Spirit is with me. Walking through Tokyo airport, the Holy Spirit is with me. The entire trip, the Holy Spirit is within me. Whenever I feel alone, I look to the Spirit of Jesus within me. And He’s always here. I’m never alone. And I’m so grateful.
Currently at work, trapped in an all-day meeting on export compliance regulations. Why am I here? Other than I’m required by the company I work for, I have no idea why I’m here.
I’m bored!!! Thankfully, this boring meeting gives me the time to frequently drift away and see in my mind’s eye the Holy Spirit of God within me. And even some time to now write this post.
Oh dear Jesus, thank you so much for being here with me. Thank you for lowering yourself from the glories of heaven to share my life in this messy, painful, and sometimes boring world. You left behind the peace, joy, freedom, and love of heaven, to have your Spirit live with us here in our broken world. Yet, you brought with you the treasures of heaven, the peace, the joy, and the love. All I need do is look inside, to you, and I too can share in heaven. Heaven on earth, within me. Thank you so much dear Jesus. Love, CJ
As Jesus said, “Once, on being asked by the Pharisees when the kingdom of God would come, Jesus replied, “The coming of the kingdom of God is not something that can be observed, nor will people say, ‘Here it is,’ or ‘There it is,’ because the kingdom of God is within you.” (Luke 17:20-21)
People are hungry for heaven. I’ve seen it in the popularity of certain books, like Heaven is for Real, by Todd Burpo. That, and other heavenly books, commonly become best sellers.
Most of us wonder about the reality of heaven. I think the topic is so popular because people hope that heaven is for real – death without heaven is scary. People have a craving within their heart for a guarantee of heaven. Yet for many, they just aren’t certain. So they go on reading, and hoping.
Would you like to be certain that heaven is from real? Would you like to know in your heart that you are guaranteed an eternal life in heaven after your mortal death? If so, you don’t need books.
What you need is the Holy Spirit of Jesus Christ. The only book you need is the bible, for that’s where you will begin to learn about the Holy Spirit. But to really know the Spirit, you need to let Him into your heart and soul. And the truth of His presence will set you free from the fear of death. For with the Spirit, heaven is indeed for real, within you.
Certainty comes from the Holy Spirit – heaven on earth.
Very gradually, over many years, God has been forming me into the person He wants me to be. He’s been going very slowly – I think because He knows I couldn’t handle a faster pace.
Yet sometimes I resist, pushing back on His efforts to shape me. Other times, like today, I wish He would work faster. Even though God has made some great changes in my life, I rarely seem to be satisfied with where I am in my journey to be less like me and more like Jesus.
So this morning, while spending my favorite time with God, I asked Him to speed things up. What came into my mind was this: “Don’t you trust me?” Well, of course I trust God. But I think He was reminding me that His pace is the best pace. I just need to relax and trust Him to mold me in a way that I can handle.
God works in each of us in a very unique way, each at the pace that is best for us. And I’m grateful.
I’ve been thinking a lot about a family friend who recently died. What if I died and went to heaven? What if I saw, felt, and lived the mysterious truth of heaven? The joy, the peace, the warmth, the freedom, the love, with God and Jesus. Then, what if God decided to send me back to earth and re-awaken my dead body? With my new, heavenly perspective, how might I now live my earthly life? What might I do differently?
What if?
A dear friend of our family went home to heaven last weekend.
Sorrow remains; sorrow fills the gap left by her absence.
Yet, I believe there is joy in Heaven.
For another dearly loved child of God has come home.
As mortals, our lot is a life tainted with sorrow.
It’s unavoidable.
Yet, I also believe that sorrow can be softened.
Sorrow can be lessoned, and the load lightened.
By our relationship with the Son of God, dear Jesus.
For Jesus will show our heart the truth,
of our momentary mortality,
and the supreme joy awaiting our eternity.
With Him in heaven.
Our family friend leaves behind mortal sorrow,
And she now has eternal joy in heaven.
How do I write about something where I can’t find the words to describe it? How do I describe this shared existence, this life with the Holy Spirit of God and Jesus sharing this body with this soul named CJ? And I’m not talking about a typical human shared existence, like I have with my wife. I’m talking about sharing this body with the creator of all that exists, and with the human part of Him who sacrificed His life for me, and you. How do I describe something beyond the range of human words?
The best I can do is compare this shared existence with human things we do understand. How about this: consider your life as a bicycle for two. For much of your life, you sit on this bicycle alone, with the back seat empty. When you invite the Holy Spirit of Jesus into your life, there He is, now sitting on the back seat.
Yet life will still be tough, even with Jesus peddling behind you. You still have to steer your way around the sharp twists and turns of life, and stay in your seat on those rocky roads. But what if you gave the front seat to Jesus? Picture life with Him steering the way, dodging the obstacles of your life. That’s surrender. That’s really living.
I filled the first part of my life with self-directed efforts to get control and improve myself. I continuously listened to self-help tape programs by such people as Earl Nightingale, Dale Carnegie, and Tony Robbins. I wasn’t satisfied with the type of person I was, so I looked to these people to help me get control of my life.
I’m now at a weird place, a place I never thought I’d be. Now, I don’t want control. Control is too stressful… things don’t always go my way. Control is a burden… too much responsibility. So now, I daily pray for God to take full control of my life. I just want to sit back, relax, and follow God’s lead.
Some days are relaxing in this way, no matter what chaos is going on around me, but not all. I’m still a work in progress, daily striving to give up control… to God. And I’m so grateful that He’s patient with me.
I want to post something today, but my mind is foggy with this cold and runny nose, and I can’t think of anything to say. Well, maybe if my mind isn’t able to come up with anything meaningful or helpful, I’ll offer this time solely to the Holy Spirit within me. What does He want to say to you, through me?
…
I give up. In addition to fogginess, I think I’m currently suffering from Spiritual Attention Deficit Disorder (SADD). I can’t focus. Do you ever suffer from SADD? Wow, I am slow this morning; I just saw how “sad” that condition is.
Well, I don’t think suffering from SADD is anything to be ashamed of. Jesus knows how hard it is to be human in this world full of distractions. All He desires is for us to turn back to Him when our mind is finished wandering the worldly wilderness. And like the father in the story of the prodigal son, Jesus is always there, waiting for our attention to return to Him. And I’m so grateful.
I was 500 miles away when my phone rang at 4:00am. My brothers girlfriend, weeping and hysterical, was telling me something, though I couldn’t understand a word she said between the gasps. Yet I knew. No more pain for my brother.
He had called me seven months earlier. We hadn’t seen each other for over 25 years, mainly because we didn’t hang out in the same places. He spent most of his time in prison.
He called to tell me he had lung cancer, and he needed me. I didn’t want to go, but he had no one else, and something inside me said… go.
During the next seven months, I spent a lot of time with my brother. Right after the first surgery, when they removed the tumors, the nurse called me into the recovery room to help calm my brother. He was sitting up in the bed, tubes and wires hanging off his tattoo-covered body, and loudly complaining about pain. I was amazed to see him actually sitting, just minutes after waking up from lung surgery. I went to the side of the bed, he looked up at me, leaned his head on my chest, and he fell asleep. I put my arm around his shoulder and just stood there, holding him steady. The nurse was grateful. I was uncomfortable.
I never wanted to get involved. Every time I went to see him, it was with reluctance. I’m not a natural at the nurturing and compassion thing. As the chemo cocktail dripped into his veins, I’d sit there, stealing glances at my watch, looking for a chance to excuse myself and leave. My hugs were not always sincere.
But this is what I learned: how I felt didn’t matter. It wasn’t about me. I may have been reluctant with each visit and phone call, but it was all for my brother. Even though my love was not true, my brother still felt loved. And it was good for him. He never hesitated to say “I love you.” Maybe he felt compassion from me that he hadn’t felt for a long time – you don’t get much in prison.
Here’s another thought that just hit me: maybe the love my brother felt wasn’t really from me, but was from Jesus within me. When I can’t bring myself to sincerely love, Jesus can love through me. And I’m so grateful.
Pride, self-centeredness, arrogance, selfishness;
different names for the same thing.
These are the root of all evil.
All a part of our human nature.
Or is this human nature?
Pride is more a disease infecting all humanity,
some suffering this disease more than others.
Human history is the story of the epidemic of pride.
Look upon your pride-filled enemy
as a victim of the epidemic,
and they will be your enemy no more.
When we see pride as an illness,
we give ourselves permission to feel compassion,
instead of anger.
And we can love our ailing enemies.
Jesus came to heal the sick.
He can free our souls of the cancer of pride,
and fill us with the love of His Spirit.
And I’m so grateful.
I put up barriers. Stress, anxiety, fretting about tomorrow, fretting about days after tomorrow, fretting about my fretting. These are my barriers, self-made walls of worry and self-centered distraction, rising up between me and the Holy Spirit within. Yet my barriers do more that separate me from God; they also barricade me from people I love. All my relationships suffer from my barriers.
I got up early this morning (early for a Sunday anyway). It was still dark outside. I went to bed early last night, after falling asleep in front of the TV… around 8 o’clock. No longer the Saturday night partier I once was.
All quiet in the pre-dawn house, with hot coffee warming my hands – I sat on my napping-couch, closed my eyes, and poured out my frets to God, within me. I felt the wall, tall and seemingly strong. Yet not strong enough.
With every thought that touched upon the Holy Spirit within, another block fell from the wall. And soon it was gone. The Holy Spirit and I are now fully face-to-face, within this soul of mine.
I’ll build the wall again. Happens every day. And I’m so grateful that God is always happy to help me tear it down.
CJ Penn's Online Writing Hangout 