rightymo
06-29-2009, 03:26 AM
“But I keep under my body, and bring it into subjection: lest that by any means, when I have preached to others, I myself should be a castaway.” (1 Cor. 9:27)
As a youth, I was always fascinated by junkyards. Each retired auto had a story to tell of families and events that make a very interesting tale. Some remember the rides to the park with a family of four; others may remember ball games, and garage repairs; some remembered the little old lady that used to drive them so slowly along the city streets; they all have a history, but now they are useless, and their contribution is to help other cars and trucks to function and serve. They have been wrecked. Unfortunately this describes the life of a lot of Christians, as well as their end. Their lives are in ruin; they no longer serve with enthusiasm and they never more experience the excitement of laughing children and singing adults, they are junkyard Christians!
These castaways are still useful—they have something to offer, but are no longer in the race themselves; their contribution is to give advice, to share what little they have left in experience to the younger set, the healthier crowd. They are on the sidelines and are mere observers now, when once they were mighty and magnificent in their own right.
Yes, as one strolls through the junkyard, each sad vehicle sits still and cold now, and all it has left is memories of what once was. Welcome now to the Christian junkyard; here we see Christians that have been wrecked; they lie still and silent, and have become mere observers haunted by memories of what once was. Oh, they were noble at one time; their pomp and pride was known all over the state; they had a reputation for grandeur and splendor; they were the “cream of the crop”, but now? They have been all but forgotten; set aside to spend their remaining years idle and defiled. They have been gathered into an area of their own, a place of uselessness, where their life has been slowly draining away, and they sadly submit to their nothingness. Each one a different model, a different kind of person, but they can still contribute, they can still be of help. Many people pass by and consider them an “eyesore”; they build a fence around them, never thinking of their past service or of the glory they once enjoyed, and they hem them in and scorn them as they go on their way. There is no thankfulness for their years of loyal service; there is no reward in this life, it seems; but they are become bywords and a reproach to all the healthy ones that come their way, no one wants to sacrifice to fix them up, so they are put aside, mostly out of sight to the sophisticated people of society. Yes, these are the veterans of Christianity, along with many others, martyred and sacrificed for the cause of Christ, and it seems that no one cares; but their sadden faces hide a smile; they know that they have been redeemed, unlike the junkyard cars, they have hope still, and a deep seated peace that no one can snatch away from them.
The next time you pass a junkyard, remember there are a lot of stories there; some would make you laugh, others make you cry; some would anger you, and some would comfort you, they are all different but they all have a story to tell of their life.
As a youth, I was always fascinated by junkyards. Each retired auto had a story to tell of families and events that make a very interesting tale. Some remember the rides to the park with a family of four; others may remember ball games, and garage repairs; some remembered the little old lady that used to drive them so slowly along the city streets; they all have a history, but now they are useless, and their contribution is to help other cars and trucks to function and serve. They have been wrecked. Unfortunately this describes the life of a lot of Christians, as well as their end. Their lives are in ruin; they no longer serve with enthusiasm and they never more experience the excitement of laughing children and singing adults, they are junkyard Christians!
These castaways are still useful—they have something to offer, but are no longer in the race themselves; their contribution is to give advice, to share what little they have left in experience to the younger set, the healthier crowd. They are on the sidelines and are mere observers now, when once they were mighty and magnificent in their own right.
Yes, as one strolls through the junkyard, each sad vehicle sits still and cold now, and all it has left is memories of what once was. Welcome now to the Christian junkyard; here we see Christians that have been wrecked; they lie still and silent, and have become mere observers haunted by memories of what once was. Oh, they were noble at one time; their pomp and pride was known all over the state; they had a reputation for grandeur and splendor; they were the “cream of the crop”, but now? They have been all but forgotten; set aside to spend their remaining years idle and defiled. They have been gathered into an area of their own, a place of uselessness, where their life has been slowly draining away, and they sadly submit to their nothingness. Each one a different model, a different kind of person, but they can still contribute, they can still be of help. Many people pass by and consider them an “eyesore”; they build a fence around them, never thinking of their past service or of the glory they once enjoyed, and they hem them in and scorn them as they go on their way. There is no thankfulness for their years of loyal service; there is no reward in this life, it seems; but they are become bywords and a reproach to all the healthy ones that come their way, no one wants to sacrifice to fix them up, so they are put aside, mostly out of sight to the sophisticated people of society. Yes, these are the veterans of Christianity, along with many others, martyred and sacrificed for the cause of Christ, and it seems that no one cares; but their sadden faces hide a smile; they know that they have been redeemed, unlike the junkyard cars, they have hope still, and a deep seated peace that no one can snatch away from them.
The next time you pass a junkyard, remember there are a lot of stories there; some would make you laugh, others make you cry; some would anger you, and some would comfort you, they are all different but they all have a story to tell of their life.