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- Written by: Don Goulding
God is in heaven and you are on earth!
Therefore, let your words be few. (Ecclesiastics 5:2)
What would we think of a bossy bee?
“And there’s a human. Buzzy, buzz. Humans are fat larvae of bees from outer space. Buzz. You over there, hold your antennae like mine. Buzz. Our queen is foolish. She ought to listen to me. Buzzy, buzz.”
With so many billions of bees on the earth, I’m afraid I’d be tempted to squash this one.
I used to be important, and everyone listened to me, or so I thought. Then God broke the illusion. The business I owned was the wind in my pride. The enterprise failed and my sail hung flat. I decided to sell my belongings in readiness for the mission field. No one wanted my lifetime accumulation of stuff, and heaps went to the dump. One night I lay under the stars in southern Africa, and realized there was another half to the Milky Way.
My business acumen is negligible, my possessions are meaningless, and my grasp of the cosmos is laughable.
In spite of my minuscule place in a gigantic universe, I preach earthly views on everything from politics to dietary advice.
“Our president makes stupid mistakes, buzzy, buzz.” “You there, don’t read your Bible like that. Here, watch me. Buzz.” “Organic, you should only eat organic, and use probiotics. Plus antioxidants to cleanse of free radicals. Buzzy, buzz.”
Whew. I get tired of hearing me, you must be bored silly. And heaven hears my boldfaced spewing.
The only opinions I need to hang onto are those from God himself. His truth, and his truth alone, has any grain of importance. Therefore, if what I have to say is not from him, and plainly endorsed by Scripture, I’ll endeavor to keep my little bee mouth shut.
Prayer: Mighty God, you awe me into silence.
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- Written by: Don Goulding
Therefore, if you have been raised with Christ, keep seeking the things above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Keep thinking about things above, not things on the earth, for you have died and your life is hidden with Christ in God. (Colossians 3:1-3)
A soprano organ note rings clean and true. It is followed by climbing and falling notes that swing our heart with a joyful melody. Simultaneously, a low note reverberates to introduce a different phrase. The two strains soar and dip, independent of each other, to create counter tension. J.S. Bach was the master of this polyphony—layering separate melodies into one piece. His Little Fugue in G minor is a classic example.
The kingdom of heaven plays its perfect music for our earth. The subtle melody carries us into the clouds. Notes climb the scale, peak with a sustained chord, then cascade down again. We drink in the beautiful tune, and lesser cares dissipate into shadows.
A bass tone jumps out from the world to vibrate our chest. A second brazen melody runs forward, drowning heaven’s crystalline refrain. The new phrase is seductive and repetitive. Oddly, its part of the same song, but its melody has little to do with heaven’s theme.
Two melodies, one song, different goals. The notes of God’s kingdom sing of joy, peace, and truth. When I let that chorus move me, the ways of heaven govern. Every Bible promise comes true—salvation, healing, eternal prosperity.
The pounding notes of the world shout “self” over and over. It’s a crude ditty, but it serves a vital purpose. The counter tension of life is carried in the earthly notes. They contrast with the majesty of heaven, intensifying its bliss. Without the abasement of sin, the remedy of Christ would be less euphoric.
Earth’s counter strain is necessary, but it’s not the primary melody. It’s not the music I want my dance to follow. I must separate the two refrains, and focus on the one above.
Prayer: Almighty Jesus, help me move to your melody today.
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- Written by: Don Goulding
We tear down arguments and every arrogant obstacle that is raised up against the knowledge of God, and we take every thought captive to make it obey Christ. (2 Corinthians 10:4, 5)
It was the third time I checked the car for my keys. I groped beneath the seats, looked under the mats, and felt between the upholstery. Nothing. My briefcase, sock dresser, and every conceivable black hole had already been searched.
“Sorry, I won’t be coming,” I informed my next appointment via phone. It was too embarrassing to give the reason, that I’d misplaced my keys—again.
Hours later I wandered into the kitchen for a bite. There, inside the door of the refrigerator, were my keys. I must have left them there during an earlier forage.
It was time for a radical assault against my disorganization. I made a resolution that my keys would either be in use, or in a designated pocket in my knapsack—later dubbed, “their most special place.” Once this new habit became automatic, it freed up mental energies and rid me of the I-did-it-again-lost-key feeling.
The same principle applies to spiritual life. Father gives a most special place for every thought. When trials come, I can say, “This earth is not my home.” At temptations, I fall into worship—“Jesus, you are everything I need.” I counter worry with—“It’s in far better hands than mine.” During idle moments, I praise—“Lord, you are awesome and wonderful, full of grace and beauty.” Once I began these disciplines, I discovered how much life energy I had wasted when there was no special place for my thoughts.
An undisciplined mind is like a bird that flails against the bars of its cage. I continually reach for what lies outside God’s best for me. Instead of bashing and befuddling my head, I need to settle on the perch, tuck each thought into its rightful place, and sing until my Master opens the door.
Prayer: King Jesus, thank you for giving a place for every thought.