Special Report: The 'Defeated' Christian
By Jack Kinsella - Omega Letter Editor
You’ve all seen him. The defeated Christian. The guy who tries and tries, but after being saved for thirty years, he still hasn’t quit smoking. Instead, he hides his cigarettes before coming to church and won’t get too close when shaking your hand for fear you’ll smell the smoke on him.
Or the Christian who you know is saved, but he just can't quite give up the bottle. Or the Christian who got saved, but doesn't go to church, because he just doesn’t think he fits in with the rest of the crowd?
Or won’t go because he thinks that everybody at church is a big hypocrite? That defeated Christian who knows that even though he is saved, it just didn't seem to ‘take' like it seemed to with everybody else, so he’d just as soon not be reminded of it all the time by being around those to whom it did.
Especially since, if he were to mention it, somebody would point out it was either because of some unconfessed sin, or maybe he just wasn't all that sincere when he first accepted Christ.
Why is it that some Christians get saved, and immediately become a new creature, where others get saved, and look remarkably like the old one?
Read more .
More Articles From Other Sites
The Truck Stop
Here is a good inspirational story from b4f.org
Trying not to be biased, I was hiring a handicapped person. His placement counselor assured me that he would be a good, reliable busboy. I had never had a mentally handicapped employee, and I wasn’t sure I wanted one. I wasn’t sure how my customers would react to Stevie. He was short, a little dumpy, and had the smooth facial features and thick-tongued speech of Down Syndrome.
I wasn’t worried about most of my trucker customers, because truckers don’t generally care who
buses tables as long as the meatloaf platter is good and the pies are homemade. The four-wheeler drivers were the ones who concerned me; the mouthy college kids traveling to school; the yuppie snobs that secretly polish their silverware with their napkins for fear of catching some dreaded “truck-stop germ;” the pairs of
white-shirted business men on expense accounts, who think every truck-stop waitress wants to be flirted with.
Read the rest.