(Daniel 3:16-18)
Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego answered the king, O Nebuchadnezzar, it is not necessary for us to answer you on this point.
If our God Whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace, He will deliver us out of your hand, O king.
But if not, let it be known to you, O king, that we will not serve your gods or worship the golden image which you have set up!
I've been studying the book of Daniel under the teaching of Beth Moore. (Which, by the way, if you've not done a study of hers, I cannot encourage you enough to do one! Pick one, any one! You won't be disappointed, I guarantee!) But, in already dwelling on Daniel and his fellow Gentiles: Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego and how they were so unmoved in their stand for faith, I caught on the radio yesterday, this question posed:
If you were persecuted for being a Christian, what would be the evidence in your case?
Wow. Really makes you stop and think. Especially in a country such as ours, where we are not threatened by the thought of persecution (thank God!). We have no excuse.
So, how much evidence can be built up 'against you'?
Do you simply just attend the church of choice?
Do you earnestly and consistently bow and pray to your God?
Do you join together with other believers regularly and worship together?
Do you witness to others whenever possible?
Do you testify all your God has done in your life?
Do you hold strong to the morals you believe in?
I encourage you to think, along with me, of all the possible 'charges' (aka- opportunities) that we, as Christians in a free nation should be proud to be held accountable for !
2 comments:
Thanks for the reminder Jess.
Were you looking for this?
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Babble on in Babylon
Brimming closets, shoe racks bulge, one in every color, I’ll just indulge.
My wildest whim will oft be met, bigger, faster, give me, get.
Travel on in Babylon.
May I go first? Knew you’d not care, for my time’s precious. You’ve lots to spare.
I’ll slip in front and off I’ll go. See, I’m quite fast and well, you’re quite slow.
I and me fast friends, life-long.
Prattle on in Babylon.
Nip it here, just there a lift. I just turned forty, it was a gift.
The eyes, the lips, the bosoms do, sculptured, lasered, injected, too.
No wrinkles left, the tummy’s gone.
Journey on in Babylon.
Enough of me, how do you view me?
You get one, but give me three.
I couldn’t bare to just say no, it’s my desire and rightly so.
Add another and on and on.
Shuffle on in Babylon.
No end in sight that I can see, today is blocked by the mirror in front of me.
A wreck, a death, tsunami tide, it mildly stirs me, I must confide.
TV claims tens of thousands gone.
Oh well, let’s see what else is on.
Numb to the stunning sight of each new dawn,
Sinking fast in Babylon.
Like a lobster in a pot who begins to like the water hot,
I’ve been duped, been tricked, been had, convinced that truth was somehow bad.
Evil, coddled and cooed and purred, and beckoned me and called and lured.
Now in a place with the lights turned on, I’m racing home from Babylon.
I’m racing home from Babylon.
--Lynn Parker
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chamelin@sc.rr.com
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