by Andy Wood on October 28, 2009
Today I give up my small ambitions.
I will give thanks for the pleasures God has designed for me to enjoy,
But no longer will I allow my life to be driven by the pursuit of pleasure.
I will no longer sacrifice joy on the altar of happiness.
I will never again measure my success by my ability to escape pain.
Today I give up my small ambitions.
I will give thanks for the material blessings God entrusts to me,
But no longer will I associate money with happiness.
Never again will I believe the lie that gain is godliness,
Or that my worth is measured by what I own.
From this day forward, I will use things and love people,
Not the other way around.
Today I give up my small ambitions.
I will give thanks to God for the ways
I can be a blessing to others.
I will accept with humility
The words of gratitude and honor I receive from others.
But I will never again live to please other men.
Today I choose to get off the pedestal,
Knowing that I don=t have to live in the gutter to do so.
I will find my honor in being no more than a man,
But no less than a child of God.
Today I give up my small ambitions.
And instead, I reach for the stars.
I will spend my life in pursuit of my God-given destiny.
By His grace I will fulfill the purpose for which
I was created and redeemed by Christ.
By His love I will touch the lives of those He died for.
And by His power
I will span the breech between time and eternity.
From this day forward,
I will seek dreams as big as the heart of my God
And visions as great as the need of this world.
And though through human failure
I may never see all those dreams come true,
When I stand to face my Lord and my God,
I pray He will see a heart determined to do exploits for His glory.
by Andy Wood on November 5, 2008
It was the Beverly Hills of ancient Asia. A center of wealth and high-end commerce. A medical haven, where people came from miles around for treatment of various ailments. If you wrote your mama and told her your job was transferring you there, she’d have something to brag about the next day. This was some place. And there was a church in town.
How would you like to get a personal letter from Jesus Christ, where the first thing he said was, “I know what you’ve been doing”? That can be a little unnerving! But that’s exactly what Jesus said to the First Church of Coolville, alias Laodicea. He had a few other things to say as well. Let’s peek at their mail:
I know your deeds, that you are neither cold nor hot. I wish you were either one or the other! So, because you are lukewarm – neither hot nor cold – I am about to spit you out of my mouth. You say, “I am rich; I have acquired wealth and do not need a thing.” But you do not realize that you are wretched, pitiful, poor, blind and naked. I counsel you to buy from me gold refined in the fire, so you can become rich; and white clothes to wear, so you can cover your shameful nakedness; and salve to put on your eyes, so you can see (Revelation 3:15-18).
Looks like the guys and dolls in Lala Land had a few things to learn about wealth.
So do we.
They thought they were loaded; Jesus said otherwise. Remember, though, that in spite of its scathing message, this was a love letter. And in his love, Jesus gave them, and LifeVestors everywhere, a few pointers on His economy. [click to continue…]
by Andy Wood on July 11, 2008
I have eye-opening experiences in odd places. I want to tell you about one that took place a few years ago at a house on 80th Street in Lubbock, a few houses away from where we used to live. Our former neighbors were having an estate sale, and I have to confess, I’m a sucker. So I strolled down to take it all in. The sale was professionally managed, well organized, and quite thorough. They were selling what appeared to be everything that wasn’t bolted to the walls or floor.
Like most estate sales, this was a trip back in time. And somewhere amid the 8-track tapes, 70s-era stereo, and the costume jewelry, it happened. Somewhere in my own mind, I was standing in the middle of my own estate sale. Watching crowds of strangers pick over my treasures that, over the years, I had spent tens of thousands of dollars on. Seeing them bargain with somebody over curtains or books or something – for dimes on the dollar, of course. “Dear God,” I half-exclaimed and half-prayed, “tell me there’s more to my life than old stuff to be bartered over!”
As I continued to wander through the house, I could identify with the fun and excitement of this family as they had purchased that new appliance, received that special Christmas gift, or took advantage of those today-only prices and sales. In so many ways, this was a typical American family. Nice house. Nice stuff, albeit touched by time. And now all of it was being left behind.
It’s bad etiquette, I suppose, to actually ask about the people whose possessions we’re pilfering through. Are they still living? Do they have family? Could I be standing next to their daughter or niece? But I couldn’t help but wonder. As I stood in what once was their home, I felt sure I was looking at a poor reflection of who these people really were.
[click to continue…]
