Be Ready
One of the books that has helped shape me over the years during Advent is a little book called God Came Near. It's one of Max Lucado's earliest writings, and to me, still one of his best. I share an excerpt from a section in chapter one. It probably won't be the only time I quote from this book over the next month, either.
"Christianity, in its purest form, is nothing
more than seeing Jesus.
Christian service, in its purest form, is nothing
more than imitating him who we see.
To see His Majesty and to imitate him,
that is the sum of Christianity."
He then begins by telling the story of a 52-year-old man who had been born blind, but because of a new technology, was able to have his sight restored. He was able to see for the first time.
He talked about how Bob was utterly speechless with colors, like yellow and red. How caught off guard he was the first time he watched a jet flying through the air with it's vapor trail. And he talked about how fascinated he was by what he was able to see for the first time, and then over and over again; like sunrises and sunsets, he never grew tired of those.
He was at the same time amazed how dull his friends had come with the same things. Bob would stop to gaze at the color of a flower in the spring, and his friends would walk right by them. All that he was seeing right now, was there all the time, but he had missed it. So close, but his lack of vision kept him from being able to see what to everyone else was obvious.
(begin quote) "But Bob Edens isn't the only one who has spent a lifetime near something without seeing it. Few are the people who don't suffer from some form of blindness. Amazing, isn't it? We can live next to something for lifetime, but unless we take time to focus on it, it doesn't become part of our life. Unless we somehow have our blindness lifted, our world is but a black cave.
Think about it. Just because one has witnessed a thousand rainbows doesn't mean he's seen the grandeur of one. One can live near a garden and fail to focus on the splendor of the flower. A man can spend a lifetime with a woman and never pause to look into her soul.
And a person can be all that goodness calls him to be and still never see the Author of life. . .
Have you seen Him?
This is no run-of-the-mill messiah. His story was extradordinary. He called himself divine, yet allowed a minimum-wage Roman soldier to drive a nail into his wrist. He demanded purity, yet stood for the rights of a repentant whore. He called men to march, yet refused to allow them to call him King. He sent men into all the world, yet equipped them with only bended knees and memories of a resurrected carpenter." (end of quote)
Being so close, without seeing what's there all along. Sounds like our world, doesn't it. To be honest, sometimes it sounds like me.
Lord, help us to not just see the obvious, but to also begin to notice the beauty in the mundane during the season of Advent.
more than seeing Jesus.
Christian service, in its purest form, is nothing
more than imitating him who we see.
To see His Majesty and to imitate him,
that is the sum of Christianity."
He then begins by telling the story of a 52-year-old man who had been born blind, but because of a new technology, was able to have his sight restored. He was able to see for the first time.
He talked about how Bob was utterly speechless with colors, like yellow and red. How caught off guard he was the first time he watched a jet flying through the air with it's vapor trail. And he talked about how fascinated he was by what he was able to see for the first time, and then over and over again; like sunrises and sunsets, he never grew tired of those.
He was at the same time amazed how dull his friends had come with the same things. Bob would stop to gaze at the color of a flower in the spring, and his friends would walk right by them. All that he was seeing right now, was there all the time, but he had missed it. So close, but his lack of vision kept him from being able to see what to everyone else was obvious.
(begin quote) "But Bob Edens isn't the only one who has spent a lifetime near something without seeing it. Few are the people who don't suffer from some form of blindness. Amazing, isn't it? We can live next to something for lifetime, but unless we take time to focus on it, it doesn't become part of our life. Unless we somehow have our blindness lifted, our world is but a black cave.
Think about it. Just because one has witnessed a thousand rainbows doesn't mean he's seen the grandeur of one. One can live near a garden and fail to focus on the splendor of the flower. A man can spend a lifetime with a woman and never pause to look into her soul.
And a person can be all that goodness calls him to be and still never see the Author of life. . .
Have you seen Him?
This is no run-of-the-mill messiah. His story was extradordinary. He called himself divine, yet allowed a minimum-wage Roman soldier to drive a nail into his wrist. He demanded purity, yet stood for the rights of a repentant whore. He called men to march, yet refused to allow them to call him King. He sent men into all the world, yet equipped them with only bended knees and memories of a resurrected carpenter." (end of quote)
Being so close, without seeing what's there all along. Sounds like our world, doesn't it. To be honest, sometimes it sounds like me.
Lord, help us to not just see the obvious, but to also begin to notice the beauty in the mundane during the season of Advent.
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