Good American ≠ Good Christian

I'm somewhat baffled by the stripe of American Christians who show up on election day in full patriotic fervor, getting to the polls early and posting "I voted" statuses on Facebook to shame everyone else into following suit, who tote out the heavy-hitting quotes of our (obviously Christian) Founding Fathers on the rights to bear arms and speak our minds freely in any given setting... and then disappear back into the woodwork until the next opportunity arises to take a bold political stand on something.

I'm a little concerned by (and for) these individuals, who take up the crusade when their exegetically, biblically-based American rights are threatened, lambasting other individuals who align themselves in different political circles, and yet claim to stand for such things as humility, kindness, gentleness, meekness, and self-control.

When it comes to casting the ballot, I'm surprised at how many Christians present either acute anxiety -- because "What if the wrong guy gets in??" -- or acute rage -- because other clearly unintelligent people are voting for the "wrong guy" and it is the Jesus-given mandate for Christians to educate the masses on why their political opinions are misguided and destructive to our great country.

I'm alarmed at how many people might read any of the above the descriptions and think it applies to someone else.

Don't get me wrong or misquote me.

I'm a registered voter who dutifully went to the polls this morning.  I care about and pray for America and her elected officials.  I am not implying that political issues are unimportant.

What I am saying is that my identity is found in Christ, not in America.  My security isn't in my driver's license, my voter registration, or my social security number -- it's in my Savior.

In that regard, what truly frightens me is how short-sighted our patriotic fervor is.  Yes, maybe we want a great nation for our kids and our grandkids, and it certainly isn't wrong to want safety, decent healthcare, good education, and cheap living expenses.  But this is altogether an incredibly out-of-focus perspective to have if that's what we as Christians are hanging our hats on.

In the light of eternity, does America's status as a great nation really matter?

Are we really making this an issue of stewardship, or are we just concerned that we have comfortable lives for the incredibly brief time that we inhabit this little planet?

Are we actually striking a good balance between living in the present and still investing in the Kingdom of Heaven?

Personally, that's where my citizenship is, and my Commander in Chief is a Savior who died on my behalf and rose from the grave to give me freedom and hope above and beyond anything American life can ever hope to offer.  To pin my constitutional rights on the cross and elevate free speech, gun ownership, and low taxes to the level of Christian rights is to make idols out of good things and cheapen the cost of redemption.

My Savior didn't die to make America great -- not ever, and certainly not "again."

I really believe that if the church truly has an image problem in the eyes of the world (and it does), it's largely because we Christians become far too impassioned about politics and hot-button issues and, in so doing, lose sight of eternity.  We claim to be about higher things but descend instead to the level of embittered patriots.  We tip our hand and reveal that we are far more concerned about the things that happen here than we are invested in what is to come.

In order for us to strike a better balance between actually stewarding well what God has so graciously given still maintaining an eternal perspective, we cannot lose sight of this crucial element.  When it comes to rulers and authorities whose names and policies will only be remembered for a brief time, we can know with certainty that it is God who truly builds the house (the family/the nation) -- not any given candidate (Psa 127.1).  Regardless of who is sworn into office as a result of today's election, the Heavenly Father is not only sovereign over that outcome, but is also building His own Kingdom -- a far greater Kingdom, and one that is not in the least bit affected by the political landscape of human history.  We give ourselves far too much credit if we think that, if we fail to vote in the "right" President, we are somehow responsible for the failure of God's directive.  We know that His purposes comes to pass, regardless of finite human intent (Gen 50.20; Prov 19.21).

In that regard, I'll continue to perform my civic duties as a citizen of the United States.  I'll vote and sign petitions and pay my taxes.  I'll stand for the national anthem, support and respect our military, and speak up when something is disagreeable or contrary to what I believe.

And yet, I'll hold tightly to the reality that America doesn't need to be a Christian nation in order for my God to accomplish His plan, for His gospel to be spread, or for my life to be robust and full -- physically, emotionally, spiritually.  As a child of God, my source of hope, my joy, and my sustenance are all found in one place and one place alone.

Turn your eyes upon Jesus

Look full in His wonderful face

And the things of earth will grow strangely dim

In the light of His glory and grace

Sweet Sleep

In preparing this week's lesson for my teens, I happened to re-visit Ecclesiastes 5.10-12:

He who loves money will not be satisfied with money, nor he who loves wealth with his income; this also is vanity. When goods increase, they increase who eat them, and what advantage has their owner but to see them with his eyes? Sweet is the sleep of a laborer, whether he eats little or much, but the full stomach of the rich will not let him sleep.

I was struck by the reminder that the proverbial love and pursuit of money isn't just something rich people struggle with.  Perhaps a weary catchall for do-it-yourself ambition, the "American Dream" it still something for which I believe all humanity has a taste.  Those in any culture who push their nose to the corporate grindstone to the detriment of personal lives and family, those who swallow hook-line-and-sinker promises of future wealth, and those who constantly chase after more and better all fit the Preacher's description of the man who won't be satisfied with his income.

The reality is that, no matter how much wealth we accrue, there will always be more to have, more to achieve, more to possess.  Once we have some, we can't be satisfied with that -- we need to keep going!  Acquire more!  Reach the next level!

Not only rich people succumb to this tendency.  Those of us who gaze longingly out the window at the mansions our commutes take us past fall into the category of "money lovers" also.

The truth is ironic and counter-intuitive: the only way to truly enjoy physical things is to put them in their proper place.

My career and the wealth, status, or security that it promises simply cannot be the most important things in my life.  In and of themselves, none will satisfy.  If, however, I value Christ the way I should and pursue him first and earnestly, suddenly my wealth is something I can enjoy, or my poverty something that is no longer a consuming frustration.  Easier said than done, certainly.  But Paul asserted that "godliness with contentment is great gain" (1 Tim 6.6).  In other words, while the world sees gain purely in terms of dollar signs, status symbols, and otherwise tangible increments, true gain and true satisfaction come only through my deepening relationship with Jesus Christ.

If my life is a ladder of trying to achieve career-based ambitions, no amount of "stop to smell the flowers," "dance in the rain," or other enjoy-the-journey-in-process memes are going to make a difference.

We all know the Biblical adage: "The love of money is the root of all kinds of evil."  I think it's relevant to note that, in other terms, the love of money is the absence of contentment.  Some see ambition as healthy forward-thinking, but when we speak specifically of financial ambition, the thin line between prospective planning and greed becomes incredibly narrow.  To be ambitious is most often to make a pursuit of wealth -- and, therefore, to think of what I currently own as not enough.

This is the very definition discontentment.  The love of money = the absence of contentment.

Furthermore, as mathematicians know, when we make comparative statements such as these, the equation works backwards and forwards:

The absence of contentment = the love of money.

Do you feel discontented with your current financial state in life?  Do you self-identify as a broke graduate student before you identify as a follower of Christ?  Do you look at the greener grass on the other side of the fence and wonder, longingly, if one day you might own that little patch of grass?  Do you tell yourself that it's not wrong to crave a little peace, and maybe one day all your financial stress will be a thing of the past?

I know these thoughts apply to me.  Therefore, I am a lover of money.  Therefore, I am not far from all kinds of evil.

Discontentment is a bigger and more pervasive problem than we as Christians like to note.  Living with discontentment doesn't mean we are simply American dreamers waiting for our due.  It means we are functional, practicing idolaters: we have placed value on something other than Jesus Christ and erroneously -- if indirectly -- believe the lie that something besides God Himself will bring satisfaction.  It means we have a shallow perspective -- certainly not an eternal perspective.  It means we have no real capacity for gratitude -- not for the blessings God liberally bestows, not for the ultimate blessing of His unfailing grace.

We desperately need to guard ourselves against this line of thinking!  To crave the sweet, secure sleep of the dedicated worker is not necessarily wrong; however, we can't make it our chief pursuit.  Instead, we must recognize that such rest is the byproduct of finding our solace, substance, and satisfaction in its only Source -- not in the careers, degrees, or possessions we pursue, but in the welcoming arms of the Savior Himself.

Financial stress got ya down?  Be patient and wait on the Lord.  He is a compassionate and understanding God who knows how to give good gifts to His children (Luke 11.13).  He cares even for the birds and the flowers (Matt 6.26, 28).  He does not abandon us in our troubles (Heb 13.5).

Just because life is hard does not invalidate these promises.  Sometimes God chooses to allow us to feel the tension of our situation so that we cling desperately to Him instead of our own wallets.

Our inability is His ability; our inadequacy His all-sufficiency.

Full belly keeping you awake at night?  Let go of your dependence on your wealth.  Give it away if you have to.  Seriously.  Jesus said that if our eyes or hands tempt us to sin, we should amputate them rather than risk the worse alternative of sinfulness (Mark 9.43).  The same principle applies to money and possessions.  Lighten the burden you're carrying or abandon it altogether: Jesus promised a far lighter load if we carry nothing but His cross (Matt 11.29).

We can truly rest only when we recognize that He is sovereign and we are not.  Whichever camp you find yourself in -- poor and craving financial stability or a wealthy insomniac or somewhere in between -- stop trying to take control back from the Almighty, either with your anxiety or your checkbook.  Stop being distracted by the world's trinkets.

We can be satisfied only when He alone is our treasure and our pursuit.

Sexuality, Pt. 1: Living in the Pursuit

Part II // Part III // Part IV // Part V
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Nothing quite encapsulates American culture like Thomas Jefferson's apropos "pursuit of happiness" clause in the Declaration of Independence.  Such commentary was as much prophetic as it was revolutionary, because the modern-day American still lives in the pursuit -- the thrill of the chase -- perhaps more now than ever before.  His choice of words was as applicable to the sentiments of the American revolution as it is to modern concepts of individuality.

For some, the pursuit of happiness is the noble ambition of chasing one's dreams and refusing to be daunted by opposition.  However, a more shrewd -- if perhaps cynical -- perspective is that the life lived in pursuit is one of continual dissatisfaction.  Pat Monahan expressed it perhaps the most succinctly in Train's "Calling all Angels," that we live in a world where "what we want is only what we want until it's ours."  Truly, that is where we live as Americans: in the pursuit, as opposed the attainment.

It's as much inspirational as it is self-defeating.

That sense of eternal questing is what makes The Great Gatsby such a profoundly American novel.  Even in the face of utter hopelessness, even in his awareness of utter failure, Jay Gatsby's aspiration to regain Daisy Buchanan's love would not be damned.  He was shackled to his quest.  That selfsame willingness to beat on against the overwhelming current -- just a little more, just for one more day -- is the very definition of American rationality.  We are as much enthralled by the perpetual uphill journey as we are cursed to climb.  And keep climbing.

Culturally, one of the biggest ways we live in the pursuit is with our relationships -- not unlike Gatsby himself.  We do this by making a god out of human intimacy while simultaneously convincing ourselves of love's impossible rarity.  "A good man is just so hard to fine."  "A broad who won't treat you bad is one in a million."  This is the theme of every romantic comedy: all men (or women) are scum, and the central characters have been hurt far too much in the past to make another try at dating worthwhile.  But then they happen to meet by a chance encounter and somehow accept one another despite each's considerable emotional baggage.  We watch a movie with an impossibly perfect ending like that and come away reminding ourselves to stay skeptical, because in real life that never happens.  No -- of course it never really happens that way.  People aren't perfect, and forgiveness is harder than the silver screen can testify.  Yet, we choose to dangle the carrot of a perfect relationship in front of ourselves anyway, and continue to seek the Mr. or Mrs. Right who will be our mystical diamond in the rough.  All of this together is how we live in the pursuit: we glorify the romantic relationship by convincing ourselves it is virtually unobtainable, yet continue to crave it like oxygen.  All the while, we train ourselves to become so distrustful of genuine love that when a significant other finally does come along, we're already fortified against the inevitable breakup.

Because we live in the pursuit, even when we finally find ourselves in the relationships we dreamed about we are still unsatisfied.

Now, add to the equation the tremendous emphasis we place on spirituality in the modern age.  We're supposed to "discover ourselves" and define our own identities, encourage self-expression, and value love, peace, and mutual understanding across all cultures.  Lennon and McCartney's "all you need is love" mentality was not just the moniker of the 60's: it is still perhaps the single most driving philosophy of human society.  In that regard, the fact that we more often than not make "sex" synonymous with "love" means that we elevate the value of interpersonal intimacy to an absurdly unhealthy level -- as though the entire point of existing on this planet is to pursue that special person with whom I might possibly be compatible.  If that's my mode of thinking, then copulation can only be the ultimate fulfillment of interpersonal relationships.  Therefore it shouldn't be wrong for me to engage in sex with anyone and everyone if there is an emotional, uplifting connection between us.

That's the type of New Age logic that gets convoluted very quickly.

To most young people, sexuality is a natural expression of love and identity.  Often, it's a statement of commitment that doesn't require the archaic necessity of legal marriage.  Commitment to the current generation looks like, "I love my girlfriend/boyfriend, so therefore I should demonstrate to her/him how much."  On the other hand, there are plenty of young people who view sex as nothing more than a pastime -- something that is purely physical, purely recreational.  Something that doesn't require any lingering emotional connection or commitment or potential heartbreak of any sort.  All that is at stake here is personal gratification: pleasure that is exciting, new, and completely complication-free.  We live in pursuit of it because there is something forbidden and elusive about it -- something raunchy and exciting that we know, deep down, we morally shouldn't have.

Either expression of sexuality is contrary to the Bible.  The wanton pursuit of sexual pleasure in any means available is what Paul describes as making a god of the belly -- that is, our heart or our desires (Phil 3.19).  This type of person finds him- or herself unable to worship anything but personal gratification.  Even the person who engages in sex with his or her significant other only at the point of mutual commitment is still ignoring the biblical framework that God established for mankind.

So, all that to say this.  We have a cultural problem.  As Americans, we don't know any other way but to live in the pursuit.  In so doing, we mislabel love, make gods of sex and emotion, and ultimately use other people as replaceable instruments to gratify our own desires.  Paradoxically, we idolize sex at the same time we cheapen it.

However, this post is not intended to address the "hedonistic masses" in a fruitless attempt to spur social change.  The generation that engages in promiscuity to its furthest extents doesn't need to modify its behavior: they need to understand the person of Jesus.  Otherwise, they're just taking a bath before they take a shower.  The point of this post is to address the fact that our culture's sexual practices are tainting that of the church.

I know this firsthand: my own dating history was a series of sexual and emotional failures, despite the Christian upbringing I was given.  God may have graciously used those experiences to bring me to the wonderful, godly, and understanding woman whom I am now blessed to call my wife, but that doesn't mean that the entirety of the church should learn via trial and error.  We don't all have to learn through mistakes.  While I certainly wouldn't claim myself to be an authority on this subject, I do have experience in the area -- both good and bad -- and I know how alluring sexual temptation can be.  Furthermore, it would be foolish to presume that anyone in modern America has not in some way been influenced by what the world and the media believe human sexuality should look like.

Whether or not we admit it, media informs the opinions of the masses.
Especially when it comes to sexuality, American culture allows itself
to be led around by the nose.

I'm leery of older generations' sentiment that the moral temperature of the world is much worse today than it ever has been.  While I won't disagree that the world is spinning on to its inevitable conclusion, I do think it is safe to say that we are simply more aware of the world's condition than we ever have been in the past, thanks to our saturation in media, news, and the internet -- truthful, manipulative, or otherwise.  Regardless, morality isn't any worse today: it's always been worse.  However, I will absolutely agree (thanks largely to the sexual revolution of the 1960's) that there is no more sacredness when it comes to sexuality.  Sex is cheap when it is the temperature gauge of our relationships, and when it is the ad man's best friend.  When we live constantly in the pursuit of bigger, better, and hotter sex -- when we follow Cosmo and make sex the penultimate standard of human interaction -- we cheapen it to nothing but a thrill, a carnival ride with a maddeningly addictive quality.  Ultimately, we make ourselves into slaves who don't quite realize the destruction our chosen taskmaster can wreak.

So where do we begin?

For starters, we need to change our thinking.  If sex is no longer sacred, then we need to restore its value.  We need to return to a biblical understanding that human sexuality is a beautiful, wonderful, fulfilling gift from God with a joyful and perfectly-structured application in the marriage bed.  We also need to forgo the mindset that sex is something dirty and forbidden, and stop allowing that sense of perverseness to ensnare our carnal passions.  Though our culture has paradoxically diminished the value of sex while simultaneously making it an idol of emotional comfort, we need to keep that perspective from tainting our biblical understanding of the purpose and the joy God intended for sexuality when He designed it.

It is often the case that -- being products of the environment in which we live -- we attempt to make the Bible fit with the worldview we prefer.  We try to make room for our lusts and cravings and think that we are still somehow capable of living for Christ without fully putting to death the flesh.  It is for that reason that I'm going to be writing a series of posts pertaining to sexuality and Christian relationships.  Hopefully none of them will be exceptionally lengthy pieces.  However, the sexual and emotional brokenness that exists in our culture has a much stronger influence on the church than many Christians would like to admit, and I believe that problem needs to be addressed.

Sexual expression is intensely personal.  There is so much shame associated with it -- some earned, some undeserved.  Naturally, people are bound to be offended by someone else's opinion.  I can't promise not to step on any toes during this discussion, though I will be as tactful and as respectful as possible.  However, keep in mind that the Scripture doesn't deal in opinions.  In fact, it uproots them at their foundations (2 Cor 10.5).

His statutes endure through all generations.

Building a House

As I was meditating today on Psalms 71-72, chapters that together represent the end of David's life and the beginning of Solomon's reign as king, I was brought back to the historical account of the latter monarch's ascent to the throne.

1 Kings 3 states that Solomon "loved the LORD, walking in the statutes of David his father."  He had inherited his father's habits along with his heritage, and resolved at the outset of his kingship to pursue righteousness before God.  Later, 1 Kings 6 records the long-anticipated building of the temple in Jerusalem, and God's promise to Solomon: "If you will continue to walk in my statues and obey my rules and keep all my commandments and walk in them, then I will establish my word with you... and dwell among the children of Israel and will not forsake them."  At the end of that chapter, the writer records that Solomon devoted seven years to complete the project of building the Lord's temple.

The very next verse, the opening words of chapter 7, states, "Solomon was building his own house thirteen years."

Seven years spent on the Lord's temple, as opposed to thirteen years on his own house.

Some would argue that Solomon's eagerness to complete the temple resulted in the disparate time frames.  However, it's a commonly known fact that Solomon, the wisest king who has ever lived, began a slow descent into the lifestyle he would later lament as "striving after the wind" (Ecc 1.17). Even at the beginning of his reign, where his humble request for wisdom earned him God's favor and blessing, Solomon quickly became enticed by the lure of riches, wealth, and status.  He may have completed his appointed task of building the temple, and may even have devoted a lot of time to it (seven years is certainly nothing to scoff at), but he spent even more time perfecting his own palace and reveling in the wealth that would pour into Jerusalem for the entirety of his reign.

Seven years.  Thirteen years.

In personal study, as well as in lesson planning for my teens, I've repeatedly run up against this issue -- that is, the desire for wealth and a comfortable living.  Examples are prevalent throughout the Scriptures.  The very root of American culture -- the "dream the bigger dream" sentiment -- is also a living testament to the fact that there are far too many people in this world who are making a good living but not living well.  There are far too many people who lose themselves in their own financial planning, putting a little extra toward the mortgage each month while making sure there's still enough set aside for a good vacation come August.  These are far too many people who care more about finally putting that addition on their homes than they do about ministry, and far too many who work themselves into oblivion six days a week before claiming Sunday as their rightful own, as a day to sleep until noon, watch ESPN, and maybe -- if they feel ambitious -- do some projects in the garage.  Any of these are the folks who, like Solomon, are "building their own house for 13 years" -- sometimes even literally.  Instead of dedicating themselves to building up their own temples to God -- that is, developing spiritual disciplines and the type of wholeheartedness that God justly desires from those who claim to be His -- most American Christians find themselves balancing their faith in one hand, and their checkbook in the other.  Many of us distract ourselves from what really matters for the Kingdom by stressing how to split our resources between the vacation fund and July's outrageous electric bill.

Can I just be perfectly blunt?  The obsession we have in this culture with making a good living is a misplaced priority, and almost always a hidden idol.

Spending means Hitler wins!

Sometimes "making a good living" can take on the guise of prudent budgeting.  What we call thriftiness can really be a militant obsession with controlling every last cent that enters the bank account, because spending even one penny too much on anything would invalidate everything we've worked for our entire lives, and perhaps even upset the course of nature.

Sometimes "making a good living" looks like a never-ending quest for just a little bit more financial elbow room -- choosing yet another long night of overtime pay when you haven't been home to see your family in nearly 24 hours, just for a little leg-up this month.

Sometimes "making a good living" means we simply make more than we absolutely need to live on, so we have the luxury of owning a shore house and can tithe in excess of 20 or even 30% without feeling the increase.

In any of these circumstances, it's easy to let our money (or lack thereof) manipulate our decisions.  It's simple to let the income dictate how much we can afford to serve in our local church body, how often date night can happen, and even how much sleep we get at night.  If we're not careful, we can follow the alluring promise of a better salary off the narrow and perhaps uncertain financial path God is leading us down, only to find ourselves stuck in the unforgiving quicksand of the corporate ladder.  Even quality financial planning -- something we all should strive to put into practice -- can become a self-sustained savior that we elevate above the provision God promises.

Everyone knows that Jesus likened the probability of a rich man entering heaven to the likelihood of a camel passing through the eye of a needle (Matt 19.24).  Certainly, not many of us would consider ourselves "rich" -- especially not when we have millionaires living in our neighborhoods (seriously, who else can afford the modern "single family" home?).  Those are individuals who clearly make a few more zeroes each month than we do, so they're the ones to whom we can actually apply the Matthew 19 passage.  "Thank God I'm just making a good living, and not exuberantly wealthy like that guy," we think unconsciously, because comparison is the basis of human existence.  "That's not what I'd do with the money if I had it."  And yet, Christ called us to be imitators of Him, not a people who judge our own standing by the well-being of everyone else on our block.

Regardless of whether we're just barely making ends meet or rolling in the dough, any one of us could don the rich young ruler's shoes.  We all love money.  We work so hard to earn it.  To some degree, we all buy into the worldly philosophy that money above all else brings comfort and security.  That's why Jesus identified the love of money as the root of all kinds of evil practices: the evil of loving money doesn't just mean money laundering or grand theft auto.  It also includes the type of idol worship that occurs when my inability to trust Him with a looming financial deficit drives me to wish that I had the job my next-door neighbor does, because then I wouldn't have to worry.  Any time we consider our own well-being above the glorification of our Savior, we have entered the dangerous "love of money" territory, and thereby opened the door for all kinds of potential evil.

Scrooge McDuck: honorary owner of the very first McMansion.

For all of these reasons, I am convinced that making good money should not be the Christian's priority.  Nor, for that matter, should it be something we encourage our children to do.  Nowhere in the Bible does an apostle say “seek sound employment to make enough money to be happy in this life.”  Nowhere does Christ suggest that we structure our lives around our jobs so that the money-making aspect of our lives becomes the most vital point on which all other facets depend.  The Bible does say, however, that we should trust in God’s provision and cast all of our cares upon Him, because He earnestly cares for us.  The Bible does command that we be hard and honest workers in whatever occupation we find ourselves, because in all things we should strive to bring glory to God through our excellence and diligence.  It also teaches that we are merely stewards of the things we "own" -- meaning that the money flowing out of our bank account as quickly as we stuff it back in isn't really ours to begin with.

In that regard, while landing a good job with exceptional pay is certainly not a sin, we would do well to remember that we live no longer for human passions, but for the will of God (1 Pet 4.1-5).  Making good money is a desire tied to living comfortably in an expensive and bankrupt world that values profit and personal benefit above all else.  While providing for our families is unquestionably a God-ordained priority -- one that we should not take lightly -- we more often than not mislabel our drive to succeed as a sacrifice for our loved ones, when really we're trying to bring in just a little more with each paycheck so that we can keep up our hobbies.  That, or we're working all kinds of odd hours to impress the boss, all in an attempt to finally lasso that elusive promotion.  That kind of pursuit is a good sign that we are operating not with eternity in sight.  It's an indicator that our ultimate focus is not heaven, but the present.

Of course, some might delineate between "pursuing wealth" and "making a good living," insisting that they are in fact walking the narrow track between those two extremes.  I'm not claiming there isn't any middle ground.  I am, however, saying that if we make our aim a comfortable living, then we should check our priorities against the Scriptures.  We get offtrack when we place more emphasis on our finances than on the ultimate purpose of living -- that is, to glorify God with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength, and to love our neighbors as well as we love ourselves.  The fact of the matter is that, if we truly love Him with every fiber of our beings, then we will sacrificially place the needs of others before our own, and the temporal desire for wealth that plagues our culture will naturally find no foothold in our lives.

This post is preachy.  I apologize for the tone, but please understand that it is as much directed at myself as it is an exhortation to anyone who might happen to read it.  I'm a homeowner, a husband, and a full-time ministry employee, and I haven't fully figured this out in my own life yet.  Living modestly and seeking to glorify God with the financial decisions that I make is a difficult process.  Ultimately, I want to be absolutely sure that I'm trusting my well-being to Him above all else, because He is the One who gives and takes away.  In any financial season, I want to practice Job's refrain: "Blessed be the name of the Lord."

I don't want to spend thirteen years building my own house.  I want to devote my time to working on the kingdom.

And that's really the bottom line.

Is it wrong to succeed?  No.  Success can be part of excellence.  Does God bless some with material wealth?  Certainly.  But that is an expression of His overflowing benevolence.  The true blessing He offers is Himself -- not the car we drive, not the dream job we worked years to obtain.  We lose sight of that, because more often than not, financial success is consuming.  It demands our focus and our time, both of which could be better used elsewhere.

One way or another, regardless of where we fall on the scale of wealthiness, we're all builders.  We're all laboring at something.

Some of us are painstakingly plotting the blueprints of our lives, making sure every last detail falls precisely into place, so that we have enough to pay the cable bill and hire the landscapers our cousin recommended, while being sure to put some aside for retirement at the same time.

Some of us are just scraping by right now, without much budge in the budget at all.  So, while we really wish we could afford to build the model with the big front porch and in-ground pool, we'll settle for a roof and four walls while we plan for future investments.  We'll upgrade whenever we finally hit the big time and the money starts to pour in.

Some of us are working on the blueprint that was handed down from the upper management.  That plan is the one that instructs us to build on the foundation that will hold, and to use materials that will weather holy fire.  This is the plan that might seem meager to some, and is probably the most difficult to follow, but it is based entirely on the final result -- a bottom line that was already achieved by the Master Contractor Himself.

We just need to follow carefully in His footsteps.