I am so excited about this Sunday as we begin a new series in our 10-month theme called "The Journey." We're beginning a series called "The People of God" in which we're learning about Abraham, Isaac, Jacob and the birth of the Hebrew people. What I believe is that we find much of our own story in these stories. We'll be talking about God's initial call to Abraham to be the father of His people. I can't wait to share with you and hope to see you there.
Don't forget about the Baptism Course coming up THIS Sunday after worship at both campuses for those interested in baptism. Baptism is one of my favorite things to be a part of in ministry, and I'd love to celebrate this with you or your child.
Thought for the Week
"So we called out to Yahweh, the God of our fathers, and the Lord heard our cry and saw our misery, hardship, and oppression." Deuteronomy 26:7
Are you at the end of your rope? I know so many people that seem to be at the end of their rope. They are on their last straw. They are worn out and worn down. They are broken. Life has a way of doing that to you. Parenting zaps you. Work grinds you to a pulp. Aging is relentless. Stress is real, and burdens are heavy. The world beats you up. Your reality is not what you thought it would be. The bills are stacking higher, the people that need you at work and home need you more and more. You are being pulled in a million different directions. You are in despair...barely hanging on. I want you to know that when you are at the end of your rope is when God hears your prayers the clearest. Maybe we pray our best prayers then. Maybe the distractions are gone. Maybe we stop pretending when we're finally broken. Whatever it is, I hope you'll cry out to God then. I hope you'll call upon the one who created you. The Lord sees you hanging on, and He will hear your prayer. And He won't let you fall farther than He can catch you. I believe that with all my heart. I've experienced it too many times myself. I've seen it with my own two eyes with too many people. Cry out to the one who made you, even...especially...if you are at the end of your rope today.
In Christ,
Carter
First United Methodist Church of Griffin
Thursday, September 10, 2015
Thursday, September 3, 2015
Why it matters and why it doesn't
A few months ago, during the long dog days of summer in which college football fans like me wait for the season to begin while munching on every morsel of football news emanating from their beloved program, I caught a replay of the movie Fever Pitch on TV. I'd seen it a couple of times. I relate to it because my passion for college football mirrors the passion for the Red Sox portrayed in the movie. In a pivotal scene, Ben is trying to explain why this is so important to him. He has been attending Red Sox games since he first went with his uncle twenty-three years ago at the age of seven. The crowd he sits around has become his family. His friends jockey for the games they get to go to. She's been to a few games, but she still doesn't get it. He asks Lindsey a question: "Do you still care about anything you cared about 23 years ago?"
One question explains the power of sports. I suppose for others this could be movies or music (both of which I love as well), but for me, that passion has been college football. I am enthralled by the atmosphere and nostalgia of it. In high school you play for your school because you are zoned for it. In the NFL you play for the team that picks you and chooses to employ you. A college roster is filled with 100 guys who chose the school, and the stands are filled with alumni who also chose the school and local fans who grew up cheering for the hometown team. They are still kids, but they are remarkably gifted athletically.
Each school has a fight and strange traditions. In the SEC, most of the uniforms even still look the same as they did in the '60's and '70's. This is why I love going to the games. The bands, the colors, the pageantry, the tailgating...the electricity in the air. And every time I walk into a stadium, I am flooded with memories of yesteryear. I am reminded of the drive down Hwy. 106 from Carnesville to Athens coming from South Carolina. I'm reminded of sitting with my parents and hugging strangers after a big win. I'm reminded of my hand in my Daddy's back pocket walking through the crowd, so I wouldn't get lost. I'm reminded of pre-game battles of touch football. I'm reminded of eating BBQ chicken and 'talking football' with men 40 years older than me. In the pregame, we were equal. There is no age when you are worried about how healthy your tailback is or if the D can stop that passing offense they've got. You are simply fans together. And I hold these memories with my boys now. I'm the dad, still caring about something I cared about 33 years ago when I saw Herschel Walker play live and in person. My boys draw pictures of their favorite players like I drew mine. And we celebrate with football friends that are like family and see the same faces around our seats, each of them amazed as they've watched my boys grow up with every passing September. That's why it matters, because so few things in life matter beyond a few years. We change jobs and houses. We lose touch with friends and find new friends. But we never change teams, and we share the same memories with our children that our parents shared with us. It matters because it has always mattered, and besides our faith and our family, few things always matter in our lives.
But it doesn't matter THAT much. I recently read an article about Greg McGarity's first five years as Athletics Director at the University of Georgia. They asked him what was the most difficult moment in those five years. I thought, "It had to be that Liberty Bowl loss to Central Florida, or the devastating loss to Alabama in the 2012 SEC Championship Game. Or maybe it was when a string of players go arrested." His answer was surprising, telling and humbling. It was when Jonathan Taylor, an outfielder for the UGA baseball team, was paralyzed during a collision in which he and a teammate both dove for a ball. Because that's the kind of stuff that matters. These are just games. They are supposed to be fun. They should be fun. They should be disappointing when you lose. But they don't matter THAT much. An athlete who can't walk ever again after giving his all while competing...THAT matters.
As another college football season draws near, let us remember (especially here in the Deep South), that the reason this matters so much really isn't about wins and losses. It's the traditions, camaraderie and glory of it all that makes it matter each and every year, whether our team is champions or chumps that season. And winning is fun, but it won't last. There will still be bills to pay and life to live the next Monday. It's a burst of joy, a few months of relief, but it's not life and death. We'd trade a thousand wins for a kid to walk again. Football and sports are about people and relationships. They are about learning to compete and overcome adversity. For those that are people of faith, this ought to be crystal clear, but when we are looking glasses tinted with our teams favorite color, sometimes it's easy to forget.
Enjoy the season!
One question explains the power of sports. I suppose for others this could be movies or music (both of which I love as well), but for me, that passion has been college football. I am enthralled by the atmosphere and nostalgia of it. In high school you play for your school because you are zoned for it. In the NFL you play for the team that picks you and chooses to employ you. A college roster is filled with 100 guys who chose the school, and the stands are filled with alumni who also chose the school and local fans who grew up cheering for the hometown team. They are still kids, but they are remarkably gifted athletically.
Each school has a fight and strange traditions. In the SEC, most of the uniforms even still look the same as they did in the '60's and '70's. This is why I love going to the games. The bands, the colors, the pageantry, the tailgating...the electricity in the air. And every time I walk into a stadium, I am flooded with memories of yesteryear. I am reminded of the drive down Hwy. 106 from Carnesville to Athens coming from South Carolina. I'm reminded of sitting with my parents and hugging strangers after a big win. I'm reminded of my hand in my Daddy's back pocket walking through the crowd, so I wouldn't get lost. I'm reminded of pre-game battles of touch football. I'm reminded of eating BBQ chicken and 'talking football' with men 40 years older than me. In the pregame, we were equal. There is no age when you are worried about how healthy your tailback is or if the D can stop that passing offense they've got. You are simply fans together. And I hold these memories with my boys now. I'm the dad, still caring about something I cared about 33 years ago when I saw Herschel Walker play live and in person. My boys draw pictures of their favorite players like I drew mine. And we celebrate with football friends that are like family and see the same faces around our seats, each of them amazed as they've watched my boys grow up with every passing September. That's why it matters, because so few things in life matter beyond a few years. We change jobs and houses. We lose touch with friends and find new friends. But we never change teams, and we share the same memories with our children that our parents shared with us. It matters because it has always mattered, and besides our faith and our family, few things always matter in our lives.
But it doesn't matter THAT much. I recently read an article about Greg McGarity's first five years as Athletics Director at the University of Georgia. They asked him what was the most difficult moment in those five years. I thought, "It had to be that Liberty Bowl loss to Central Florida, or the devastating loss to Alabama in the 2012 SEC Championship Game. Or maybe it was when a string of players go arrested." His answer was surprising, telling and humbling. It was when Jonathan Taylor, an outfielder for the UGA baseball team, was paralyzed during a collision in which he and a teammate both dove for a ball. Because that's the kind of stuff that matters. These are just games. They are supposed to be fun. They should be fun. They should be disappointing when you lose. But they don't matter THAT much. An athlete who can't walk ever again after giving his all while competing...THAT matters.
As another college football season draws near, let us remember (especially here in the Deep South), that the reason this matters so much really isn't about wins and losses. It's the traditions, camaraderie and glory of it all that makes it matter each and every year, whether our team is champions or chumps that season. And winning is fun, but it won't last. There will still be bills to pay and life to live the next Monday. It's a burst of joy, a few months of relief, but it's not life and death. We'd trade a thousand wins for a kid to walk again. Football and sports are about people and relationships. They are about learning to compete and overcome adversity. For those that are people of faith, this ought to be crystal clear, but when we are looking glasses tinted with our teams favorite color, sometimes it's easy to forget.
Enjoy the season!
Monday, August 31, 2015
Coffee, Cake & Coversation
We're excited to be launching a 4-week Wednesday night series called "Coffee, Cake & Conversation" at Harmony Grove Church of the Way. We'll be discussing some of the hottest topics in our culture. I'll be joined by other pastors and community leaders to talk about the following issues:
Sept. 9 - RACE
Sept. 16 - HOMOSEXUALITY
Sept. 23 - POLITICS
Sept. 30 - DATING
There are a few ways you can be involved:
1. Join us for refreshments at 6 p.m. and dialogue at 6:30 p.m. Childcare available up through 5th grade.
2. Send in a question! You can do that in a variety of ways:
Sept. 9 - RACE
Sept. 16 - HOMOSEXUALITY
Sept. 23 - POLITICS
Sept. 30 - DATING
There are a few ways you can be involved:
1. Join us for refreshments at 6 p.m. and dialogue at 6:30 p.m. Childcare available up through 5th grade.
2. Send in a question! You can do that in a variety of ways:
- Leave it in the comments here.
- tweet us @churchoftheway
- post it to facebook at www.facebook.com/churchoftheway
- email to info@churchoftheway.net
- Leave a card in one of the boxes at one of our campuses
Thursday, August 27, 2015
Ashley Madison, the Virginia shooting, and our mirror
"Nothing in all creation is hidden from God’s sight. Everything is uncovered and laid bare before the eyes of him to whom we must give account." -Hebrews 4:13
I thought all the Ashley Madison clients whose names and emails were laid bare when I saw this passage. I thought about all the men who thought they could 'get by' in secret with their lusts and betrayal. I thought of the secrets that are now no longer secrets that are wrecking marriages as we speak. And I thought about how we all have secrets that could destroy us.
Then, in broad daylight in Virginia, a disgruntled former employee went up and shot two innocent people, a reporter and a camera man, right on live television. Sometimes our sins aren't even secret. The tragedy in Virginia and the tragedy of the Ashley Madison scandal is a reminder of how broken our world is. We are a sinful bunch, killing each other, physically and emotionally. We are selfish and vindictive. We are lustful and quick to react. We are a mess. We need Jesus. We need His forgiveness, and we need him to shape us.
It's so easy to point fingers in these situations. Men seeking sex outside the covenant of marriage is wrong. A man walking up and killing two people is wrong. But we don't really need to be reminded of that, though it does make us feel good sometimes to point a finger. What I am reminded of in these situations is how much we have these things within us, and when we see ugliness on full display, it's a good time to look in the mirror. You might not seek out a secret online affair, but what secret sin are you holding onto? In what ways are we looking outside our closest relationships for affirmation and intimacy? What do we have the capacity to do if we thought we could do it in secret? And how have we let rage boil up in us so hot that we could just kill someone? Maybe we wanted to hit them. Maybe we did. Maybe we just cursed them, to their face or behind their back. Maybe we gave them the ol' 'unfriend' on social media. Maybe we wished they were dead.
This is uncomfortable, but it reminds me that not only does our world need saving, not only do people whose sins have been in the limelight need Jesus. I need saving. I need Jesus. If my life were laid bare, I'd be ashamed of the mean-spirited and hateful thoughts. I'd be ashamed of my anger. I'd be ashamed of my pride. I'd be ashamed of my selfishness. I'd be ashamed. You would be, too. I am convinced that the ONLY way this world will find peace and rest is if we each, individually, allow Jesus to change our hearts. I believe that kind of change has the capacity to rub off on people.
I thought all the Ashley Madison clients whose names and emails were laid bare when I saw this passage. I thought about all the men who thought they could 'get by' in secret with their lusts and betrayal. I thought of the secrets that are now no longer secrets that are wrecking marriages as we speak. And I thought about how we all have secrets that could destroy us.
Then, in broad daylight in Virginia, a disgruntled former employee went up and shot two innocent people, a reporter and a camera man, right on live television. Sometimes our sins aren't even secret. The tragedy in Virginia and the tragedy of the Ashley Madison scandal is a reminder of how broken our world is. We are a sinful bunch, killing each other, physically and emotionally. We are selfish and vindictive. We are lustful and quick to react. We are a mess. We need Jesus. We need His forgiveness, and we need him to shape us.
It's so easy to point fingers in these situations. Men seeking sex outside the covenant of marriage is wrong. A man walking up and killing two people is wrong. But we don't really need to be reminded of that, though it does make us feel good sometimes to point a finger. What I am reminded of in these situations is how much we have these things within us, and when we see ugliness on full display, it's a good time to look in the mirror. You might not seek out a secret online affair, but what secret sin are you holding onto? In what ways are we looking outside our closest relationships for affirmation and intimacy? What do we have the capacity to do if we thought we could do it in secret? And how have we let rage boil up in us so hot that we could just kill someone? Maybe we wanted to hit them. Maybe we did. Maybe we just cursed them, to their face or behind their back. Maybe we gave them the ol' 'unfriend' on social media. Maybe we wished they were dead.
This is uncomfortable, but it reminds me that not only does our world need saving, not only do people whose sins have been in the limelight need Jesus. I need saving. I need Jesus. If my life were laid bare, I'd be ashamed of the mean-spirited and hateful thoughts. I'd be ashamed of my anger. I'd be ashamed of my pride. I'd be ashamed of my selfishness. I'd be ashamed. You would be, too. I am convinced that the ONLY way this world will find peace and rest is if we each, individually, allow Jesus to change our hearts. I believe that kind of change has the capacity to rub off on people.
Wednesday, August 19, 2015
First Try
This past weekend we had a first around the McInnis house -- my 11 year-old son helped cut the grass. Well, sort of. He did the weed-eating. It certainly saved me some time. It was not the prettiest weed-eating job you'll ever see. The aesthetics left a little to be desired. It was a little choppy and a little scalped in various places. But it was his. He was proud. It was a landmark moment that Dad believed in him.
But it was also a landmark moment because he came out while I was working in the yard and said he wanted to help. He wanted to do the work his father was doing, and because of that, I wanted to give him more responsibility. I wanted to give him more freedom. I believed in him more because he was about my work.
Does God have to poke and prod you to be about his work, or do you go outside and ask if you can do what your Heavenly Father is doing? When we ask to be a part of what God is doing, our Father is happy to give us more responsibility and freedom. He begins to believe in us even more.
We spend a great deal of time talking and thinking about our belief in God, but one our biggest hurdles in life is coming to the understanding that God believes in us. He trusts us with earth. He trusts us with our lives. He believes in us, especially when we demonstrate that we get it. When we ask to be a part of what He is doing instead of staying inside and doing our own thing, God believes in us even more. I'll bet God looks at our work and it's a little choppy. I'll bet he'd describe it as not the prettiest job in the world. But he's proud. And (get this), He's able to concentrate on doing the things that only He can do. Riding the big lawn mower is too big a job for my son right now. Only I can do that, but he can handle the trimmer. There are things that only God can do in our world. But, the bigger question is what are we NOT doing simply because we won't join in God's work. He believes in you. He trusts you. He wants you to be involved in what He is doing. Go ask him how you can help. It's okay if it's not the prettiest result in the world. Your Father will be proud.
But it was also a landmark moment because he came out while I was working in the yard and said he wanted to help. He wanted to do the work his father was doing, and because of that, I wanted to give him more responsibility. I wanted to give him more freedom. I believed in him more because he was about my work.
Does God have to poke and prod you to be about his work, or do you go outside and ask if you can do what your Heavenly Father is doing? When we ask to be a part of what God is doing, our Father is happy to give us more responsibility and freedom. He begins to believe in us even more.
We spend a great deal of time talking and thinking about our belief in God, but one our biggest hurdles in life is coming to the understanding that God believes in us. He trusts us with earth. He trusts us with our lives. He believes in us, especially when we demonstrate that we get it. When we ask to be a part of what He is doing instead of staying inside and doing our own thing, God believes in us even more. I'll bet God looks at our work and it's a little choppy. I'll bet he'd describe it as not the prettiest job in the world. But he's proud. And (get this), He's able to concentrate on doing the things that only He can do. Riding the big lawn mower is too big a job for my son right now. Only I can do that, but he can handle the trimmer. There are things that only God can do in our world. But, the bigger question is what are we NOT doing simply because we won't join in God's work. He believes in you. He trusts you. He wants you to be involved in what He is doing. Go ask him how you can help. It's okay if it's not the prettiest result in the world. Your Father will be proud.
Monday, July 20, 2015
Land of the Free
The five Marines who were killed in an ugly display of evil last week in Chattanooga are some of the reasons we live in the land of the free. The Marines, along with the rest of our military, help ensure that we are a nation that enjoys freedom. Our founding fathers set the United States on a unique course at that point in history: that we would seek freedom for all. I am so grateful for the men and women that defend freedom on my behalf and on behalf of much of the world so that I can live a comfortable life in suburban America. I am forever indebted to them. I mourn for the families of the Marines who lost their lives. I'm saddened for the people of Chattanooga, a community in which I have dear friends, because their freedom was interrupted with tragedy.
If there is one thing that I believe America has gotten right -- it's freedom. Freedom is the gift God gave humanity. We are free to choose good or bad. We are responsible for our freedom. People often want to ask in the face of tragedy like we saw in Chattanooga, "Why would God allow such evil or allow such a thing to happen?" Well, God allowed freedom. And we're either free or we're not. There's not really an in-between. We're free to choose good or chose evil. But we have to live with the consequences of that freedom. The man that killed those five Marines had the freedom to make a tragic choice. God gives us that freedom because God wants us to freely choose Him.
We can certainly have laws that protect people, but we will never, ever be able to legislate people choosing wisely, because we always, ultimately have the freedom to choose poorly. So what do we do? We use our freedom for good. We have the freedom to choose good every single day. We honor the Marines who died in Chattanooga by using the freedom that service men and women have given us and that have been endowed to us by our Creator for good. And choosing good makes a difference.
Recently, I've seen what I believe to be a father jogging around Grayson, but he's not alone. He pushing his handicapped teenage son on a 3-wheel bicycle contraption. He is always sweating and he is always smiling. He could choose anger or bitterness. He chose good. He's choosing to soak up as much time with his son as possible. He's choosing fitness and joy. And I think about the stresses I have about parenthood. They are meager. I have the freedom choose good every day as a dad. I can't change what happened in Chattanooga. I can choose good. And I believe that choosing good honors the freedom we've been given and inspires others. It's all we've got. Choose God. Choose good. Who knows how one decision might change someone's life to choose good the next time they are considering choosing evil? That's how we make the world a better place.
If there is one thing that I believe America has gotten right -- it's freedom. Freedom is the gift God gave humanity. We are free to choose good or bad. We are responsible for our freedom. People often want to ask in the face of tragedy like we saw in Chattanooga, "Why would God allow such evil or allow such a thing to happen?" Well, God allowed freedom. And we're either free or we're not. There's not really an in-between. We're free to choose good or chose evil. But we have to live with the consequences of that freedom. The man that killed those five Marines had the freedom to make a tragic choice. God gives us that freedom because God wants us to freely choose Him.
We can certainly have laws that protect people, but we will never, ever be able to legislate people choosing wisely, because we always, ultimately have the freedom to choose poorly. So what do we do? We use our freedom for good. We have the freedom to choose good every single day. We honor the Marines who died in Chattanooga by using the freedom that service men and women have given us and that have been endowed to us by our Creator for good. And choosing good makes a difference.
Recently, I've seen what I believe to be a father jogging around Grayson, but he's not alone. He pushing his handicapped teenage son on a 3-wheel bicycle contraption. He is always sweating and he is always smiling. He could choose anger or bitterness. He chose good. He's choosing to soak up as much time with his son as possible. He's choosing fitness and joy. And I think about the stresses I have about parenthood. They are meager. I have the freedom choose good every day as a dad. I can't change what happened in Chattanooga. I can choose good. And I believe that choosing good honors the freedom we've been given and inspires others. It's all we've got. Choose God. Choose good. Who knows how one decision might change someone's life to choose good the next time they are considering choosing evil? That's how we make the world a better place.
Wednesday, July 15, 2015
Hidden Brokenness
Yesterday, I had about the funniest moment I've ever had in a public restroom. It would not have been funny had I been on the other end. I was in one of my favorite restaurants, um, taking care of some business. I notice someone waiting to enter the stall. When I opened the stall door, a woman was waiting. The second she saw me, she was mortified. She had made a terrible mistake. About that time another gentleman entered the restroom, only adding to her embarrassment. She shuffled out as quickly as she could and me and the other guy had a good laugh. I've entered the wrong restroom before, but I don't think I've ever waited in line at one.
She had obviously been oblivious to the sign on the door. She had been oblivious to the urinal. She thought she was right. It was an honest mistake. It was not meant to be hurtful or harmful. It was not malicious. It was just innocent. She wasn't paying attention, was too busy looking at her phone or maybe had something else in her mind. For a good minute or two, she had no idea that she had made a mistake. In fact, she was convinced she was right, until she abruptly found out differently upon my exit from the stall. But no matter how unintentional or innocent, she was wrong. No matter if she thought she'd made the right decision, she'd made the wrong decision.
Let me tell you what scares me about my own brokenness: I could be making wrong decisions that I think are right. Because my intentions are broken. My heart is broken. My will is broken. My mind is broken. I am broken. I could be oblivious to the fact that I'm going through the wrong door simply because I'm not paying attention. My mind is so cluttered that it's entirely possible I'll be embarrassed at some of the decisions I've made when I find out how terribly wrong I've been. But this isn't just my problem -- it's you're problem, too. We are all broken.
We spend a lot of time (and rightfully so) working through our hang-ups, addictions, and nagging sins. We try to submit to God the parts of our lives that we KNOW to be outside His will. What concerns me, though, is that we are the woman in the Panera restroom. We are mindlessly wondering through life not knowing how wrong we are. We are too busy to stop and think if we're making the right decision. We have lost focus and are just entering whatever door seems closest. Sometimes, we even are convinced we're right, but we're just flat wrong. We saw things incorrectly. Does it ever occur to us that we could be seeing things incorrectly?
There is hope. His name is Jesus. This is why we need a Savior. This is why we can't fix ourselves. This is why we can't be left to work this out. We don't even know how to work this out. We are broken. We need grace and forgiveness -- for the mistakes we KNOW we're making and the mistakes we DON'T EVEN KNOW we are making. This is why I'm so thankful for Christ, because I'm a mess. I don't even know how big a mess I am. I just know I need Jesus. We all do. And, this is why we are reminded to be alert and mindful in the Scriptures. I believe as we embrace Jesus more, we can become more aware of all our intentions, attitudes and motivations. But we won't straighten it all out. We're broken in ways that are hidden. Yet, Jesus makes us whole.
She had obviously been oblivious to the sign on the door. She had been oblivious to the urinal. She thought she was right. It was an honest mistake. It was not meant to be hurtful or harmful. It was not malicious. It was just innocent. She wasn't paying attention, was too busy looking at her phone or maybe had something else in her mind. For a good minute or two, she had no idea that she had made a mistake. In fact, she was convinced she was right, until she abruptly found out differently upon my exit from the stall. But no matter how unintentional or innocent, she was wrong. No matter if she thought she'd made the right decision, she'd made the wrong decision.
Let me tell you what scares me about my own brokenness: I could be making wrong decisions that I think are right. Because my intentions are broken. My heart is broken. My will is broken. My mind is broken. I am broken. I could be oblivious to the fact that I'm going through the wrong door simply because I'm not paying attention. My mind is so cluttered that it's entirely possible I'll be embarrassed at some of the decisions I've made when I find out how terribly wrong I've been. But this isn't just my problem -- it's you're problem, too. We are all broken.
We spend a lot of time (and rightfully so) working through our hang-ups, addictions, and nagging sins. We try to submit to God the parts of our lives that we KNOW to be outside His will. What concerns me, though, is that we are the woman in the Panera restroom. We are mindlessly wondering through life not knowing how wrong we are. We are too busy to stop and think if we're making the right decision. We have lost focus and are just entering whatever door seems closest. Sometimes, we even are convinced we're right, but we're just flat wrong. We saw things incorrectly. Does it ever occur to us that we could be seeing things incorrectly?
There is hope. His name is Jesus. This is why we need a Savior. This is why we can't fix ourselves. This is why we can't be left to work this out. We don't even know how to work this out. We are broken. We need grace and forgiveness -- for the mistakes we KNOW we're making and the mistakes we DON'T EVEN KNOW we are making. This is why I'm so thankful for Christ, because I'm a mess. I don't even know how big a mess I am. I just know I need Jesus. We all do. And, this is why we are reminded to be alert and mindful in the Scriptures. I believe as we embrace Jesus more, we can become more aware of all our intentions, attitudes and motivations. But we won't straighten it all out. We're broken in ways that are hidden. Yet, Jesus makes us whole.
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