Consubstantial

Thanksgiving Day, 2011, thinking and working... no phone calls, no messages on the computer, no sound of traffic on the streets... a quiet world, so easily deceived. Someone asked me the meaning and objective of Christianity. I said, “The objective is to keep as many people as possible out of Hell.” The message of Christianity, ”to overcome the world.”

So many are looking for something solid to hold on to, consubstantial. The Apostle Paul did not love jail cells, chains, stocks. Seeking his legal rights as a Roman citizen, appealing to Caesar, as a prisoner, on his way to Rome, battered, shipwrecked. (Acts 27:20) “When all hope was gone, and I thought of this as I stood on the seashore at Malta, he must have thought “Does God really love me?” Then, gathering some sticks to build a fire, trying to keep warm, bitten by a serpent and then in Rome, imprisoned in a cistern, 19 feet underground, could still write the most marvelous words known to man. When anyone says, “I would like to see a Christian” say, take a look at brother Paul.

Unbelievers always watch. In the jail at Phillipi, beaten and bloody, feet in stocks, at midnight, he and Silas sang hymns and the prisoners listened. (Acts 16:25) How many times have I said, “In my trials, disability, I just don't understand. It is better to wait than to work. Working, trusting, even our city drinking water filled with poison... fluorides, chlorides. The drug Prozac is 94% fluoride, used by the Nazis to control victims. A few day's diet of GMO foods will kill a pet. Bubbles, housing, bailouts, the stock market trying to reach a level of 10,600. I have empty commercial space, an imposter in the White House now, as always, I flee to Psalm 84:5. Remember, definite article “THE” man passing through Baca, the valley of weeping. Life is not a mountaintop experience. Life is a journey not a destination. Good that if, after walking down the isle, signing a card, just sit in an easy chair waiting for the heaven-lies. If you have not had troubles, just wait, they are on the way. The Christian learns the blessings of the valley. You will always have circumstances, but it is the blessed man who endures the circumstances and makes of them blessings. You even dig wells in the valley, and in the time of drought, and the rains finally come, as you slosh around in the water, you know that after the rain is gone, you still have living water, always available. (I will never leave thee nor forsake thee.) (Hebrews 13:5)) Working, for the night is coming, we are His hands and feet, their were no chairs in the temple. The blessed man works not depending on ancestry, charisma, looks, education. Thank God I have known working, thankful, devoted saints. We can say with Paul of these people, the world was not worthy of them. (Hebrews 11:38) We do not know the names of the men who held the ropes when Paul escaped in the basket down the wall in Damascus.

Every 24 hours the devil assigns some fallen angel to taunt, blame, give doubts to a Christian, while sitting on your shoulder. Remember, even if you are guilty, God has already forgiven your sins, past, present, future.

Your valley can become an oasis of joy for others because you were there. God recognizes manicured hands, hands to good to do His work.

I could not see them in their casket but I asked the mortician to put my hand on the hands of my parents - rough, working, faithful hands. Hands that knew the value of work, hands that knew the honor of Christianity.

The world has a confused value system... consubstantial. As Europe goes under, as the compass of an immoral future and desperate financial situation spreads, more money will be printed, and we know how man values the almighty dollar, helicopters will probably strow the money across the land to prop up markets.

David’s three mighty men, Tachmonite, Eleazer and Shammah (2 Samuel 23) fought for what was right until their arms failed them but always, without question, the Lord wrought a great victory.

About 20 years ago, I stood at Goma, the city at the head of the Congo river, a river 2,900 miles through the nation of Congo to the Atlantic. In the latter half of the 19^th century, George Greenfield, of London made his first missionary trip up the river to evangelize this nation. On that banks of the Congo river he buried his wife and his child, many diseases, but kept going. At his funeral, in Goma, 1908, a choir of 10,000 African natives sang “all hail the power of Jesus name. When I was there, Goma and it's surrounds were again in depravity due to government. Today, the Congo is stricken by protests and, the county the size of the United States is almost as desperate in it's violence. Without a consubstantial foundation, Christianity so easily leaves a people.