The Warrior’s Journey is now a new blog designed for MEN OF GOD to discuss issues with spiritual warfare. The new blog site is http://godlymen.wordpress.com.
Why is this new blog called The Warrior’s Journey? For men who are seeking to grow in Christ it is becoming more and more apparent that we are involved in deep spiritual warfare. Spiritual attacks may not beset us constantly, but they are always there.
As we journey through life together, we need to prepare for the Satanic onslaughts that come our way. Life is a journey. It is better when it is travelled together.
Men and women both face these battles. This new blog will examine issues for men. By allowing you to post directly to that page you are able to help direct our journey as we do battle.
I look forward to our journey together!
Many people feel that church is for women and children. How wrong this thought is! Church is its strongest when there is a balance of men and women of all ages. I believe that the biblical record calls for men to lead out in spiritual matters. This does not exclude the ministries of women, rather it amplifies the responsibilities of men.
Are you a man of God? Have you learned how to be strong in the Lord? This page will be useful as we learn how to serve and lead as men. Visit the new blog page at:
This issue of Christian men has been a burden on my heart for quite some time. Looking across the table, men have really dropped the ball with being active in the church and at home concerning Christianity.
We (men) have become RE-active as opposed to being active. It is not that we are doing anything bad, but it is the fact that we are not doing anything. We just let things happen with no action, and as men, we need to be the example as Christian leaders to become more active as opposed to reactive.
Scripture calls us out boldly as men to be the spiritual leaders of the home. I think we can see the common thread here…INITIATING, taking ACTION, and I do not think any woman would have a problem with a man who is willing to do this.
Since scripture calls women to be submissive to men, the question is, “What woman would not want to submit to a man who would be willing to lay down his life for her?” And the cool thing is that the whole submission thing becomes a mutual submission between man and woman! There becomes this mutual submission that the man submits to Christ’s example and submits to the love that he is to have for his wife while the woman submits to this type of man, which is what true love between a man and woman is supposed to be like.
I truly feel a burden for men being more an ACTIVE presence not only in the life of the church, but in our own homes!! May God bless us, and call out men of integrity who are ready to be ACTIVE Christian Men of God! Blessings to you all!!
– Bro. Josh (edited for space)
Thanks to Josh for his comments. Would you join our dialogue by sharing your thoughts on what it means to be a Man of God.
Looking forward to reading your thoughts!
Bro. Ray
All of my life I have had a hero that was a real man of God. My Grandfater, Marion Dennis, was a role model for me. On Sundays, during the song service, he would sit on the front row of the church singing and crying. This was his form of worship. His heart was huge. He loved people. He loved helping people. He loved his church. But most of all, he loved Father God. He never realized how much he was being watched.
I was a pall bearer at his funeral and losing him was tough. I felt as if I did not have enough time on this earth with him. As the service progressed, I felt this overwhelming sense of joy. He was in heaven singing and worshipping our Heavenly Father. He was no longer in pain, no longer confined to a room….he was free.
I am so thankful for this Hero in my life. God calls us to commune with Him. We do this privately, corporately and in our small groups.
I am thankful for the men in my life that lift me up, encourage me and know when I am down.
Thanks Jeff Kirby for inspiring me and challenging me to grow in my faith, listening to me and mentoring me…you mean more to me than you’ll ever know.
Thanks Brian Schindler for enabling me to fulfil my calling.
Thanks Chad Guffy for always being concerned and available.
Thanks Mike Vinson for being a great example.
Thanks Fred Locke for making me smile and encouraging me.
Thanks Richard Parsons for praying with me and ministering with me.
Thanks Jeff Vincent for embracing new lifelong friendships.
Thanks Eric Anderson for being a leader that cares and serves consistantly.
Thanks Eric Bandy for praying with me and praying for me.
Thanks Sean Cornette for visiting me and encouraging me.
Thanks Nathan Phelps for standing at my side and ministering to me.
Thanks Josh Smith for being able to read my mind and listening.
Thanks Bob Thurman for inspiring through your gifts of ministry.
Thanks Bro Ray for mentoring, teaching and wise counsel.
I should thank you “MEN OF GOD” more often for what you mean to me.
Part of me did not want to mention names in fear that I would leave someone out. There are many faithful men of God that inspire me, motivate me and challenge me to grow in my faith. I praise God for the incredible foundation of men that faithfully lead and set the pace for 2BC.
John 4:10 says “Jesus answered her, ‘If you knew the gift of God…..”
God gives us many, many gifts. The might men of 2BC are a gift to me!
God Bless!
When I think about men of God I go back to when, for some crazy reason, I was asked to teach the Men’s sunday school class. For those who know me best I am not a teacher, I love to talk and can talk with anyone, and as long as they want to. Those men in that class taught me so much about life. We shared laughter and a lot of tears. After about three years I realized God did not put in that class to teach them, I was put in that class to learn about life. I think about everyone of them and the different ways we experienced God either thru sickness, death, children, grandchildren, lost friends and even church. I hope and pray that some day I can help and encourage some young man just like those men of God helped me.
When we talk about this subject of men of God, we (I know I do at least) tend to talk about people who are older than us, that we look to as a mentor, which is great, but just to change it up somewhat, I am reminded of my roommate from Louisville, Bo. When Bo and I met at Murray State, I had recently turned my life over to the Lord, so I was very immature in my faith. Bo, two years younger than me, was very reserved, soft spoken, and extremely grounded in his faith. Me, being the outspoken young Christian, Bo (even though he didn’t realize it at the time) discipled me just when we hung out. We met each week as accountability partners, talking about what was going on in our lives, what we were reading in the scriptures and asking each other’s perspectives on various topics, and also, spending time in prayer for one another. I cannot tell you how much growth each of us encountered during that time. It saddened me to leave Murray State to go to New Orleans because I knew that “one on one” time with Bo would never be like it was. However, not even two years later, Bo and I became roommates for almost two years in Louisville, and actually attended seminary classes together. We had our times of accountability like we did in college, but it was different, because we were in different stages of life as opposed to our college days, but somehow, our times were even better. I say this to say that I am thankful for the men of God that are also my peers in the same stage of life as I am in.
Responce to Josh’s comment:
I think, as men sometimes we get our priorities mixed up. There ways a time when I had all mine mixed up. Work, then church, then hunting, then doing absolutely nothing was a priority. God says my first priority is to my family. If I don’t show them the proper leadership and care they will suffer. Then I don’t think I was saved to just sit on the couch and watch TV. God has placed in me a burden to see souls save. I’ve looked in the eyes of a lost person, I’ve seen the emptiness that lays behind them. I want to do something about that.
As for activating men let me share a cariacteristic I’ve noticed about men: have you ever watched a man carrying a heavy burden, some large object? If there are men standing around they will automatically go over and help.
The point I’m trying to make is this; some men have been given the burden of carrying a load, others haven’t recieved that calling but are will to help you with it.
I don’t think makeing a statement infront of 5 or 20 or 100 people will do any good. Get personnal let God lead you to one at a time and let them see you carrying the load.
Bro Ray does this very well. At times he has walked up to me and said Steve I need this or that and I could see the need and I’ve said, yes, I can do that. I have yet to say no. I did try one thing and it just didn’t work out, but thats OK. Others have worked out.
I’m not a perfect person, but I have a perfect Master I want to please.
Love in Christ
Steve
My dad was a Godly man, but in his own, quiet way. Dad was not one to say a whole lot about religion, but he lived a Godly life and was a good Christian man.
Here’s a little essay I wrote about my recollections of Dad.
My Reliable Dad
My dad, Paul Johnson, died on September 27, 1994, as a result of bone cancer. He was seventy-nine years old at the time of his death, but the last two years of Dad’s life could hardly be called living. He deserved so much better!
Dad lost his left arm due to an accidental discharge of his shotgun when he was only sixteen. It was 40 miles to the nearest hospital back in those days, and Dad nearly bled to death before family members could get him there. The doctors amputated what little was left of Dad’s arm, and he was left with just a stub that ended a few inches below his shoulder.
I cannot imagine how devastating this must have been for him. A young man of sixteen would be very conscious of his appearance, and he must have wondered how people would react to his missing arm, especially the girls. Of course, he would have to learn how to do with one hand the things he had always done with two.
Dad was simply amazing in the way he adapted to having only one arm. He could tie his shoes and neckties, and he could tie fishing knots. I’m not aware of anything that a person would normally need to do that Dad could not do. He never used a prosthetic arm; he just learned to use his one hand to do the things he needed to do.
He must have had his moments of anguish, especially when he was young, but I never even once got the impression that Dad felt sorry for himself. His lack of a left arm was a non-issue in his role as my dad, and I almost decided it was not even worth mentioning in my recollections about him.
In the final analysis, I decided that while he made no big deal of it, it truly was an amazing thing the way Dad overcame his handicap so completely that it was really no handicap at all. I think this speaks volumes about his character, and so I have included it.
In describing my dad to someone, there are many terms that I would have to use: Dad was honest, friendly, unassuming, hard-working, devoted, and faithful. The first word to come to mind, though, would be “reliable.”
Reliability is, in my book, one of the greatest character traits. It is a trait that is not ascribed to a person until he has proven over time that he deserves it. In this ever-changing world, we need people in our lives on whom we know that we can depend. My dad was such a person. My mom and I were always able to rely on Dad, and he never let us down; he was our rock.
Dad was totally dedicated to his family, and he worked hard to provide for us. He worked a regular job as the superintendent of the parking facilities for the Edward C. Minas Company, a large department store that until its closing in 1984 was one of the anchor businesses of the downtown area of Hammond, Indiana, my hometown. Dad was responsible for the daily operation and maintenance of the outdoor parking lot and the four story parking garage that were owned by the store.
The Minas Company relied on Dad to keep the store’s parking facilities looking good and functioning efficiently. It was important to the store that the customers found the parking to be easy and convenient and the parking attendants to be polite and friendly; the parking facilities were where customers formed their first and their last impressions of the Edward C. Minas Company on each of their visits. Dad was well aware of this and accepted it as a personal challenge to make the parking experience as pleasant as he possibly could for the Minas customers.
Dad’s regular job led to his starting his own business. Part of his job in maintaining the Minas parking facilities was to repaint the lines for the parking stalls periodically. He eventually bought the striping equipment from the Minas Company and went into business for himself, painting parking lots in Hammond and the surrounding communities. He named his business “City Parking Engineers” and later changed it to “Tru-Line Striping Company.” The Edward C. Minas Company, his employer, became his first customer.
The business grew by leaps and bounds, and Dad soon found that he didn’t have to spend a lot of time recruiting new customers; they were contacting him on their own to obtain his services. Dad would always show up to paint at the time he had promised the customer that he would, unless the weather prevented it.
If the parking lot was new or had just been re-surfaced and there was no blueprint for the parking layout, Dad would apply his skills in designing the optimum parking scheme, so that the maximum number of cars could be accommodated, while at the same time providing easy parking that did not require tricky maneuvering on the part of the store’s customers. He knew when to use straight-in parking, when to use angle parking, and how wide to make the driveways for either type. Dad understood that the parking must be easy in order to keep the store’s customers coming back.
As far as the actual painting, Dad always did a good job, making the lines straight and even and putting down a uniform and generous coat of good quality paint, with no fuzzy edges on the lines. Parking lots looked great when Dad was finished with his work. His reputation for reliable work led to all the business he could handle. There’s that word again, “reliable.”
Dad’s employer, the Edward C. Minas Company, found him to be reliable, his customers in his painting business found him to be reliable, and his family, my mom and I, found him to be reliable.
My dad made tremendous sacrifices for Mom and me, but he went about it in such a quiet, matter-of-fact way that it did not appear that he was doing anything special. I suppose in Dad’s mind he wasn’t doing anything special, just supporting his family. It never occurred to him to do less than his best to support us.
Dad loved to hunt and fish, but instead of heading for the fields or the lakes when he got up before daylight on the days when the downtown stores were open until 9:00 PM, the days when he didn’t have to report to his regular job until noon, he headed for some parking lot that needed painting and was ready to begin working when the sun came up.
I helped Dad with many of the parking lots that he painted when I wasn’t in school, but he was always good about getting someone else to help him, if I had something that I wanted to do. Even though he was doing it all for me, he paid me for my time, and the money was mine to spend as I saw fit.
Despite all the long hours that Dad worked, he still took time once in a while to take me hunting or fishing. We sometimes camped beside the Kankakee River on weekends and fished using set lines baited with large minnows. We would set up camp, then get in the boat and go upriver to set out the lines and bait the hooks. Every two hours or so we would go check our lines, harvest our catch, and re-bait the hooks. I cherish the memories of those trips.
I remember working crossword puzzles with Dad. He loved those things, and The Hammond Times, our local newspaper, had one every day. When I became old enough to help him, it was something that we did together after supper, or on Sunday afternoons, when we would work the extra big crossword puzzle that was always included in the Sunday paper.
I would sit on the arm of his chair, or sit beside him on the couch, and would look over his shoulder. Whenever I figured out a word, I would tell him where it was, and he would pencil it in. Looking back on the times that we did this when I was still very young, I’m sure that he purposely left some words that he knew blank, so that I could figure them out.
As I sat there looking over Dad’s shoulder while we worked the crossword puzzles in the evening, I could smell a pleasant, distinctive odor emanating from him. It was not the artificial smell of deodorant or after shave, although Dad used both, but it was a natural, manly smell, one component of which, I’m sure, was the faint smell of perspiration.
Mom, Dad, and I watched certain TV shows each week as a family. I have especially fond memories of our family viewings of Gunsmoke, Bonanza, and The Wonderful World of Disney. I remember how Dad would make a big deal over Miss Kitty while we watched Gunsmoke, and I think he was just doing it to get a reaction out of Mom, which he usually did.
I am very proud that this man whom the Edward C. Minas company, the customers of Tru-Line Striping Company, and Mom and I relied upon was my dad. He never once let any of us down.
Mom relied upon Dad to be faithful to her, and he was. We both relied upon Dad to be the family breadwinner, and because he worked two jobs, Mom was able to stay home and be a full time mother to me.
God also relied upon Dad; He relied upon Dad to take me to church every Sunday, and Dad was faithful in this matter. As a result, I came to know Jesus as my Savior when I was eleven years old. Of all the wonderful things that my dad did for me, his taking me to church every Sunday was the most important; it was Dad’s greatest gift to me.
I cannot remember even one occasion when Dad told me that he loved me, but neither can I remember ever doubting for a moment that he did. Dad preferred to show me that he loved me, rather than to tell me that he loved me. I miss my dad very much.
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