Give Me That Mountain

The Work We Do

Day thirteen...

Are we Christians hated by the world for the label we wear or the work we do? If we are going to be hated shouldn't it be because of the work we do? I'm going to step right into it by asking a very pointed question: “Why do we bother with the label at all? Why do we even want to label ourselves as Christians?”

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The Work We Do

Day fourteen...

“God, I didn't know You worked on…!” Fill in the blank. You would be surprised at what God works on.

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The Work We Do

Day fifteen...

The work we used to do, under the law, was all about riding the bicycle and not falling off. Success was staying on the bike as long as we could without falling off.

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Goodness Gracious…

Day one...

“Goodness gracious” is an expression I heard frequently as a child. I have no idea where it came from, but I suppose it was a less offensive way, for religious folks, of saying, “Oh, my God!”

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Goodness Gracious…

Day two...

Sherrel and I had a homeless man and his girlfriend in one of our classes some time ago. He was excited when he was hired (yes, some are paid) by the Salvation Army to ring a bell during the Christmas season. John happened to be ringing the bell at our local Sam's Club, at the same time we were doing some shopping. As we visited with him briefly, he pointed us out to the folks making donations by saying, “These people are good to me. They are good to me.”

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Goodness Gracious…

Day three...

God is so very patient with all of us. It seems we are hell‐bent on destroying each other—families, friends, neighbors, churches, people groups, nations. And yet we've never quite been able to get the job done. Why are we not all dead?

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Goodness Gracious…

Day four...

Whenever I was sick, Mom always took me into town to see Doctor Woods. I had some major flinching going on as his nurse dropped my drawers and swabbed my butt with alcohol. The needle she used was surely long enough to go clear through and come out the other side.

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Goodness Gracious…

Day five...

Before our class last Tuesday night, I noticed Ronnie was limping around. I hadn't seen him in a while and asked him what was going on. He told me that because he'd been favoring his big toe he had thrown his leg out of whack.

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