Wealth
Posted by sellout
Wealth, riches, stuff. We can get a lot of things in this life right?
What if someone who died left everything they had to you in their will, and gave it to you under the condition you use it to help others.
What kind of a person would you be if you blew it off, figured they were crazy anyway, and spent it all on yourself getting a big house, a big screen tv, new suv.
What if by some chance that person was still alive, and you met him. How would you explain what you did with his money? How would you explain that kind of theft?
Is not everything we have on this earth a gift to be used for others? Did not Jesus say “Give to anyone who asks”.
How is it we have rich pastors and officials who claim to follow a poor homeless Christ who gave everything for others, even his life.
What do you have? What is it worth to you? Who’s is it really?
Who does it belong to. How much of it can you really spare?
How far is theft Justified?
“For which of you, intending to build a tower, does not sit down first and count the cost?” Luke 14:28
Count the cost of following Christ, or please, for the sake of everything Christ ever stood for, do not claim to have anything to to with Him.
whose – not who’s
santa checked his appearance in the mirror one last time, straightening his hat and polishing his silver belt buckle with a large leather glove. he turned as the door banged open. “you about ready?” the store manager asked him. “oh am i!” santa began excitedly. “i have so many good things planned for the children this Christmas-.” “excellent,” the manager cut in curtly. “now get out there.” following him out the door, santa noted the long line of expectant children and grinned in anticipation. ‘a good turnout,’ he thought to himself as he sat in the giant chair. immediately the first child in line ran up to santa and positioned himself on his knee, the boys mother following. “ive been a good boy this year,” the boy assured santa earnestly. “have you now?” santa remarked, thinking back on his naughty-and-nice book. “oh yes,” the boy nodded with a grin. “well, what would you like for Christmas little boy?” santa listened as the boy began rattling off a long list of toys and candy, and his mustache started to droop a little. “…and lots of candy in my stocking.” the boy finished triumphantly. “but,” santa said, somewhat confused. “wouldnt you rather have some fruit, a couple juicy apples and maybe a bunch of bananas?” “what?” now the boy looked confused. “apples? no, i want candy. lots and lots of candy.” he looked more certain now. “but why would you want a playstation? or a ipod video? wouldnt you rather have a toothbrush, or a warm blanket for your bed? maybe some extra pairs of socks… besides, those things are bad for your eyes, and when you play with them, you waste time that could be spent with your family.” the boy looked like he was about to cry. “can i have a psp mommy?” he asked, turning tear-filled puppy-eyes on the lady standing beside santas chair. “of course you can, sweetie,” she said soothingly, picking the boy up from santas lap while glaring at the man. “you should be ashamed, sir,” she said in a contemptuous voice. “taking away childrens dreams and filling their heads with nonsense. i mean, honestly, who wants socks or apples for Christmas? kids want toys, and its your job to give them what they want.” the lady turned then and walked away, still holding the little boy, who had stopped crying and was grinning happily again. “but…” santa stammered as the lady and her child left the store. “i was just trying to give him good things. things that he can use, that will help him… i just wanted to help…”
and God wept, because his children turned down his offers of help, convinced that they knew what was best for themselves and that they did not need the good things God wanted to give them
As much as I dislike the entire concept of santa, that was rather appropriate.