There once was an old artist…
He lived in a small home in a setting that was picturesque: His property was wooded with a short hill that ran from his back door down into a vast, calm lake. Looking out over the water into the distance revealed a majestic mountain range. He had few human visitors, but enjoyed watching the fish jump and the ducks and geese gliding effortlessly across the surface of the water. It was not uncommon for him to be visited by squirrels, raccoons, and quite often, deer.
Every morning (weather permitting), the old artist would walk down the hill from his house to the small dock he had built years before on the lake. He would take his easel and a small box of drawing and painting utensils, and spend hours sitting on the dock, painting and sketching. Often, he would paint his beautiful surroundings — trees, water, the mountains, the woodland creatures — but every once in a while, he would paint images from his mind, and what the serenity of that place inspired in his imagination. He started off just hanging the pictures in his small home but over time, the lack of wall space and the encouragement of a friend inspired him to sell his paintings at a local store. Every once in a while, his art would inspire him to accompany the painting with a poem from his own experience, and although he rarely wrote such poems, they were always filled with beautiful imagery, witty humor, and profound wisdom.
There came a day when a man from a large city visited the area, and stopped by the store for some supplies. The man owned a large publishing company, and upon seeing the art on display, was intrigued. He read a couple of the poems, and was beyond impressed.
“Who is the author of these masterpieces?” he inquired.
The shop owner gave him the old artist’s address, and he hurried away to find the artist. When he arrived at his destination, the old artist was down on the dock, feeding some ducks a little dry bread left over from last evening’s dinner. The publisher proceeded to introduce himself, and compliment the artist on his craft — particularly his poetry. He passionately made the case that the old artist’s gift of poetry did not need to be hidden from the world, and that his work could reach thousands and millions of people if he would come to work for him. The publisher’s words made the old artist feel respected, needed, and guilty all at the same time. After a couple hours of persuasion, the publisher convinced the old artist to come to work for his company, and share his wonderful insights with the rest of the world. The old man agreed to a contract which required him to move to the city in which the publishing company was located.
For the first six months, his work was incredible. The publisher was overwhelmed by the beauty of the old artist’s eloquent and witty poems and stories. Furthermore, he was overjoyed by the public reception of the old artist — letters and correspondence praising the writings as masterful and insightful. Readership was up for the first time in a decade, with a corresponding rise in revenue. Everyone at the publishing company was happy.
Everyone, that is, except for the old artist.
Over time, sales plateaued and began to fall away. The new readers who at first seemed so excited began to disappear, the praise began to subside, and what little correspondence there was was less than flattering. “Dry”, “passionless”, and “formulaic” were words that critics began to use to describe the writing they once called “fresh”, “genius”, and “inspirational”. The publisher, concerned about not just his company’s bottom line, but having also grown quite fond of the old artist as a friend, decided to talk to the man.
Meeting one evening at the publisher’s home, the publisher asked the old artist if he was alright; had something happened to cause him to lose his inspiration?
The old man replied…
“You became interested in me and my work because of my poetry. You saw it as beautiful and unique, inspiring and insightful. But I’m not sure you understood where it came from. Honestly, until now, I’m not sure I did.
But I do now.
You see, the beautiful poetry you love was always a by-product of the hours I spent alone with my art. Almost every morning (weather permitting), I would go down to my dock — the place you found me feeding the ducks — and paint or sketch what I saw, not just with my eyes, but with my mind and my heart.The thing is, that art came from a place as well.
That place.
That place I call home. That place I knew since I was a young boy. That place I shared with the love of my life — my other inspiration — until her time on this earth was done. That place where the wind sings to my spirit, that holds my memories, my laughter, my tears, my joys, and my sorrows. That place that inspired adventure in a young man, and soothed the broken heart of a grieving and lonely old man.
When you hired me and I left that place, I left behind the art and inspiration that gave my poetry its real meaning. You gained the writer, but left behind everything that made the artist.”
Friends, how many times have we done that?
How many times do we see someone for what they are, but we miss who they are? How many times have we — as friends, acquaintances, leaders, and employers — looked to someone to fill a role in our lives without considering what it is that makes them qualified or even necessary to fill that role? How many times have employers, for the sake of gaining an employee, forsaken an artist? We see how having the abilities of a person can benefit us, but what is that thing that inspires them, that makes them who they are, that makes them of benefit to everyone around them? While we may choose what a person’s assignment is, do we understand what their anointing is?
Well… God does.
He understood it when He told Jeremiah…
Before I formed you in the womb I knew you;
Before you were born I sanctified you;
I ordained you a prophet to the nations. ~ Jeremiah 1:5
His creative genius was clear to David, who wrote…
For You formed my inward parts;
You covered me in my mother’s womb.
I will praise You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
Marvelous are Your works,
And that my soul knows very well.
My frame was not hidden from You,
When I was made in secret,
And skillfully wrought in the lowest parts of the earth.
Your eyes saw my substance, being yet unformed.
And in Your book they all were written,
The days fashioned for me,
When as yet there were none of them. ~ Psalm 139:13-16
Paul recognized that God’s good and perfect gifts come without a return receipt…
For the gifts and the calling of God are irrevocable. ~ Romans 11:29
This Christmas season, I encourage you — actually, I invite you — as we celebrate the story of the Christ Child, to find out someone else’s story. Find out what makes them tick. Look beyond the temporal and temporary exterior and find out about their experiences, dreams, and aspirations.
Look beyond the assignment and find the anointing.
Look past the grit and find the gift.
Solomon recognized the value of God’s gifts when he said…
A man’s gift makes room for him,
And brings him before great men. ~ Proverbs 18:16
This next year, let’s commit ourselves to recognizing the gifts and callings in those around us, and help to clear the path for that anointing to find its way to greatness.
The United States was at peace with that Nation and, at the solicitation of Japan, was still in conversation with its Government and its Emperor looking toward the maintenance of peace in the Pacific. Indeed, one hour after Japanese air squadrons had commenced bombing in the American Island of Oahu, the Japanese Ambassador to the United States and his colleague delivered to our Secretary of State a formal reply to a recent American message. And while this reply stated that it seemed useless to continue the existing diplomatic negotiations, it contained no threat or hint of war or of armed attack… (
But there is another lesson to be learned… a spiritual lesson that comes from one of the little known, little remembered facts about that fateful day. Typically, when we think of the attack on Pearl Harbor, it conjures images of massive aircraft carriers, hundreds of airplanes, bombs falling from the skies, and the fire and smoke rising from the wreckages of the U.S.S. Arizona, the U.S.S. West Virginia, the U.S.S. California, the U.S.S. Oklahoma, and many, many other ships. But what we miss is something that was discovered much later; something that lies beneath the surface of the chaos and destruction of that day.
According to the NOVA 
The story, posted in 
Political correctness has indeed reached a tipping point, and for the left-wing crowd that wants to be able to say, express, and champion every progressive, “enlightened”, offensive, and ungodly idea under the auspices of “free speech”, well… here’s your First Amendment at work.
With these words, written on October 3, 1863, Abraham Lincoln began his Thanksgiving Day Proclamation that set aside the last Thursday* of November as a national “day of Thanksgiving and Praise to our beneficent Father Who dwelleth in the Heavens“.
When President Lincoln penned these words, our nation was engulfed in the heart of the violence, bloodshed, and tragedy of the American Civil War. Yet, President Lincoln chose to find goodness. He chose to look forward with hope to a future of peace, prosperity, and promise. In spite of the hopelessness, despair, death, and destruction that consumed the nation between 1861 – 1865, President Lincoln looked back to better times, and had faith that such times would return.
So this Thanksgiving, if your life is joyous, be thankful for that, and for all of God’s many blessings.
Yesterday (as a “Throwback Thursday” post on social media), one of my staff posted an old picture of me in the recording studio where we used to record our CenterPoint radio broadcast. CenterPoint was our daily, 13 minute daily devotional program that aired around the world for 14 years, but which we (reluctantly) decided to discontinue at the end of 2012.
As we are now seeing, our hopes for a peaceful transition of power seem to be interrupted. People who are protesting the outcome of last week’s election are staging protests, riots, “cry-ins”, and other forms of social absurdities, decrying the upset victory of Mr. Trump over Mrs. Clinton in the Presidential Election. With a media that went “all-in” for Mrs. Clinton, the biggest casualty of last Tuesday was, in my opinion, any credibility the mainstream media had left. However, we would be sorely mistaken in thinking that they would go “softly into that good night”. We would be naive to assume that the mainstream media and the left’s devotion to liberality and progressivism would stop with, what many are calling, a stunning “rebuke and repudiation” of their principles, practices, and policies.
The word “scorpion” comes from the root word “skeptomas” from which our English word “skeptic” is derived. It means to question and scrutinize the truth. These scorpions poison humanity with lies that create wrong decisions that bring pain.
Demonic attacks always begin with undermined truth. The attack on the truth is intense today and it is important that we be equipped to take down the lies that are destroying our homes, churches and nation.
Yes, we have been invaded, but not by an army of men with modern weapons. We have been invaded by spiritual forces that are at work at this very hour, chipping away – bit by bit – at the very underpinnings of this nation that was founded on the Judeo-Christian
America has spoken. We have elected our next President and Vice-President. While some across our nation are rejoicing, others of our neighbors mourn. In a political campaign that was as vicious and divisive as any in my lifetime, I think it is important for all of us to remember that the Republic will endure. We have weathered far worse than this — wars, the Great Depression, more wars, scandal, etc. — and we still remain.
I sought for the greatness and genius of America in her commodious harbors and her ample rivers—and it was not there. . . . in her fertile fields and boundless forests—and it was not there. . . . in her rich mines and her vast world commerce—and it was not there. . . . in her democratic Congress and her matchless Constitution—and it was not there. Not until I went into the churches of America and heard her pulpits flame with righteousness did I understand the secret of her genius and power. America is great because she is good, and if America ever ceases to be good, she will cease to be great.
Could it be that we have finally become weary of being a nation with a broken moral compass, evidenced by rampant police assaults, out-of-control violence in our streets, rabid support for the abomination of abortion-on-demand, acceptance of deviant sexual behavior, and open hostility to the things of God?
It will take understanding. As believers who trust in the inerrancy of the Bible, sometimes we are less than patient with those who are not believers. It is up to us lead in love, and show the love of Christ by example. Charles H. Spurgeon once said…
The nation’s leader was married to an un-elected, unselected ambitious woman who was the enemy of people of faith. This man of mystery spoke words that threatened the establishment, so they attacked this interloper, and put him on the run, for trying to overturn the corrupt and ungodly orders of an equally corrupt leader… corruption that, among other things, unjustly sent many to their deaths, seized the property and wealth of a law-abiding family by executive order, and after first framing the owner by accusations brought forward by false witnesses, had him murdered by an angry mob.
Today we need some folks with the anointing of Elijah to bring down the corruption in America. We need people of faith to stand on their God-given rights and boldly speak the Word of truth to a people that have lost their way. We need leaders who will rise up, and declare the words of Proverbs 14:34 from the rooftops…
It is time for the petty bickering to end.
Joseph Goebbels was propaganda minister for Adolf Hitler in Nazi Germany. He was the man responsible for propagating the demonic lies that led to World War II and the slaughter of millions of innocent people, including six million Jews. He said,
As the foundation grows weaker, the attacks on Christianity grow bolder and are seen in all parts of the world. War has been declared on Christianity in every part of the Middle East, with reports of Christians being beheaded at the bloody hand of ISIS (or ISIS related groups).
This liberalization of attitudes toward moral issues is part of a complex set of factors affecting the social and cultural fabric of the U.S. Regardless of the factors causing the shifts, the trend toward a more liberal view on moral behaviors will certainly have implications for such fundamental social institutions as marriage, the environment in which children are raised, and the economy. The shifts could also have a significant effect on politics, with candidates whose positioning is based on holding firm views on certain issues having to grapple with a voting population that, as a whole, is significantly less likely to agree with conservative positions than it might have been in the past.”
The Heart of Abba - Ron Phillips 