Now I have struggled with what it really means to serve God for a long, long time. I was raised to believe that my service was simply to go to church on Sunday. That's it. As I grew I began to think that it was more of a service to me and to others than it was to God. Not that serving others isn't pleasing to God if done in faith, but they wanted us to serve them by doing things that would benefit them and not necessarily God. Serve on this committee, clean this, do this, sing this. But what does it mean to serve God? Does God want us to be servants? Jesus clearly contradicts this by saying that we are no longer slaves but sons. What's the difference in the service of a slave and the service of a son? The difference to me seems to be the attitude of the father more than the attitude of the son. If the father thinks of the son as someone who will benefit him then the service of the son is no different than that of a slave. However if the father thinks of his son as someone who will benefit from being with him, learning from him, growing as a result of his love and becoming who the father dreamed he would be, then the son's service is a natural out pouring of who the father is making the son to be. So what does it mean to serve God? Could it be as simple as knowing who you are in Him and "being" who He created you to be?
Grace
Hither by His Grace I've come
From whence Sin was my name.
I thought for me a life of glee
He choose for me some pain.
I thought that it would kill me,
I struggled in the war.
But its only made me more like Him
though He must change me more.
Would that I could be like Him
by doing what is good.
I'd do and do and do some more
till I'd done all I could.
But doing does not change me or
I'd be a better man;
So I'll wait on Grace to do His Work
It is a better plan.
Hither by His Grace I've come
I've not been left alone;
His Grace has brought me safe thus far
Its sure to lead me home.
When I was growing up we lived in a small rural area of North Georgia. Being a Southern American and living in the country my father wanted to be a farmer. This included owning a small Shetland pony. The pony's name was Little Bit. We didn't have a lot of land. As a matter of fact we rented the small house that we lived in. Therefore the pony's lot in life was to be tied to a tree out back of the house. One morning my sister went out to feed Little Bit only to find him bound to the tree by the rope. He had somehow gotten tangled in the rope to the point that not only could he not free himself but he had become wrapped so tightly in the rope that it blinded him in one eye and rubbed a whole in his front leg to the bone. My father went out and cut him loose and doctored him up. Although blind and wounded he survived. A few years later, in another rented house with less room, Little Bit ended up tied to the house. My dad knew that he wouldn't get tangled around the house. He didn't know that the house would burn down. Luckily someone came by and cut Little Bit's rope. He ran away from the burning house only to be found later pretty much unharmed. Again we moved to a house that had a little more land and for the first time Little Bit was put into a fence. The problem was that it was a small fence about 40 x 40 feet and it was electric. Little Bit lived in this small lot only to be continuously shocked by getting too close to the fence. After a couple of years we sold Little Bit. I remember clearly the day that the man who bought him came to get him. We took the fence completely down but we couldn't get the pony across the line where the fence had been. We pushed and pulled but Little Bit wouldn't budge. After great effort by about four grown men he was finally loaded onto the truck and I never saw him again.
Many years later, about 30, I was sitting in church when God told me that I was exactly like Little Bit. Now I know it was God because I hadn't even thought of the horse since I was a child. You see I was tied up to the legalist mindset and it blinded me and wounded me to the freedom that was rightfully mine. God came by and cut me loose. Then I was bound to the house, the church-house, and I was almost burned to the point that I wanted to quit it all. Again God came by and set me free. I remained in a fence of religion but God has taken down the fence. I am at this point being drug across the line. I'm afraid to believe that I am free because of the shock of it.
Keep Pulling God, Not my will but Thine
Mike
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SShutes
