Article by Dr. Les Hollon, Pastor, Trinity Baptist Church

Sin expands one’s appetite for more sin. David’s sinful trail began by coveting his neighbor’s wife and was followed by adultery, lying, and murder. David’s unraveling did not stop until the prophet Nathan confronted and convinced him of his sins.

Repentance is the sinner’s only hope to be released from sin’s deadly cycle. Repentance begins with soulful remorse and ends with soul-filled renewal.

David’s attempt to insulate himself from guilt’s stinging indictment meant his sinful actions did not stop with sexually manipulating Bathsheba. He had to do something about Uriah, her husband.  Sin does not stop on its own power. Only God’s power is strong enough to stop sin’s destructive force. Repentance opens us to change when we personally yield our will to God’s will so our desires can be reshaped (Psalm 37:4).

David was said to be a “man after [God's] own heart” (1 Samuel 13:14). On examining David’s heart, God anointed David to be king (1 Sam. 16:7).  David’s heart of faithfulness was his lead strength. At all costs the shepherd-king needed to treasure what was important to God so his heart would be focused on living and leading in God’s way.

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Article by Mary Bea Sullivan

“What happened to you?” My friend Marjorie asked.  “Last time I saw you, you were so clear.  Today, you are all over the place.”

Marjorie was right, my energy was scattered and my focus blurry.  After a week filled with too much work, too many evenings out, and not enough silence, I was reverting to old, unhealthy ways of thinking.

“It is like the real you has vacated the premises and your inner critic is holed up in your head indulging herself like a drunken rock star.”  Marjorie added.

I cackled loudly at her analogy–a well-needed release from the swamp of negativity that I had been slogging through. Read More »

Article by Malcolm Marler

None of us are perfect, and neither was my father. Lewis Marler would have been the first person to tell you so.

If he was reading this blog he would say to me, “Malcolm, you’re making me sound too good.  I made lots of mistakes.  People are going to think too highly of me.”

There are not many of us who would worry about being thought of “too highly.”  But my father did.

In fact, he worried about a lot about of things.

He worried about what others thought of him. He worried if he had disappointed persons.  If he made a promise and for some reason couldn’t fulfill it, he would worry himself sick over it.

If he bought a new car, he worried that people in the church would think they were paying the pastor too much.  He turned down salary raises many years.

He worried about what he said to others, and would ruminate over it trying to determine if it was the absolute truth, and if it was a kind thing to say. Read More »

Article by Mary Bea Sullivan

The longer we live, the longer our potential list of “certainties.”  Through our unique experiences, we unconsciously accumulate “stories” about all aspects of our lives.

Imagine you were given an empty bag and every time you chose to adopt a “certainty” or a “story,” a small pebble was placed in your bag …

At first, carrying the bag would be a minor inconvenience, but over time as the bag became weighed down by more stones, it would prevent you from doing certain things.

So … what are some of these pebbles we have placed in our bags?

We tell ourselves stories about ourselves that limit our ability to stretch and grow:  “I have never liked exercise and I know I never will.”  “I have to have a closet filled with shoes.”  “I’m too fat.”  “I’m too skinny.”  “I’ll never leave this community.”

We tell ourselves stories about other people and set up roadblocks some people are not allowed to pass.  The other day a friend with a southern accent told me that her customers up north treat her as if she wasn’t very bright.  I have also heard comments about “pushy Yankees” as if that were a given for all folks raised above the Mason-Dixon line.

We develop beliefs about the way the world works that blind us to any information that doesn’t fit our story:  “If you give homeless people money they will just drink it away.”  “All big businesses are corrupt.”  “If I go to a good school, I will find a good job.”

And so some of us bumble along without realizing we are limiting our ability to respond to life because we are dragging a heavy, lumpy sack of stones behind us.

Not everyone though. Read More »

Article by Kevin L. DeWitt

When we are trying to accomplish anything, most people want things to come together smoothly and quickly, with “quickly” being the operative word…

It doesn’t matter whether it’s reaching a travel destination, finishing a project at the office, losing weight, or learning to play the guitar. We’re taught that faster is better.  Our culture is bombarded with messages from Madison Avenue that faster is better.  Directors of our largest companies – and Wall Street overall – reward quarterly results.  They ask “What have you accomplished over the last 12 weeks?” … instead of long-term growth and stability.

Perhaps it’s not fair to pick on CEOs and Wall Street, because examples of “fast is better” are replete in practically every corner our culture.  We all want to see immediate returns for our efforts, and we take huge strides toward reaching our goals expeditiously.  After all, why take small steps when we can take quantum leaps?  And who would want to take the long way when it takes so … long?

Another perspective is that, while there is nothing wrong with desiring to move quickly, we also need a strong sense of an appreciation for taking the long way and completing things one step at a time.  Put simply … we need to realize there are real benefits – and we can be happy and content - with taking the long way.

Why?

Because many things really are meant to take some time.

Some things are meant to unfold on their own timeline.  And we are meant to learn things about the issue, about ourselves, about others, and what we are trying to accomplish along the way. Read More »