No Excuses . . .

I have no excuse as to why I haven’t written on my blog lately. I wish I could tell you that like katie from my new favorite blog  I am so busy taking care of the 12 african children that I have adopted at the tender age of 21.

Or like Hoodmamamel, I am in desperate need of funds in order to keep MercyStreet running efficiently.

Oh, there are countless others that aren’t wasting their lives . . . .

So, until I figure out exactly how not to waste my life, I will leave you with words from John Piper’s book, yep, you guessed it, “Don’t Waste Your Life.”

“You don’t have to know a lot of things for your life to make a lasting difference in the world. But you do have to know the few great things that matter, perhaps just one, and then be willing to live for them and die for them. The people that make a durable difference in the world are not the people who have mastered many things, but who have been mastered by one great thing. If you want your life to count, if you want the ripple effect of the pebbles you drop to become waves that reach the ends of the earth and roll on into eternity, you don’t need to have a high IQ. You don’t have to have good looks or riches or come from a fine family or a fine school. Instead you have to know a few great, majestic, unchanging, obvious, simple, glorious things—or one great all-embracing thing—and be set on fire by them.”

“AN AMERICAN TRAGEDY: HOW NOT TO FINISH  YOUR ONE LIFE 

I will tell you what a tragedy is. I will show you how to waste your life. Consider a story from the February 1998 edition of Reader’s Digest, which tells about a couple who “took early 
retirement from their jobs in the Northeast five years ago when he was 59 and she was 51. Now they live in Punta Gorda, Florida, where they cruise on their 30 foot trawler, play softball 
and collect shells.” At first, when I read it I thought it might be a joke. A spoof on the American Dream. But it  wasn’t. Tragically, this was the dream: Come to the end of your life—your one and only precious, God-given life—and let the last great work of your life, before you give an account to your Creator, be this: playing softball and collecting shells. Picture them before Christ at the great day of judgment: “Look, Lord. See my shells.” That is a tragedy. And people today are spending billions of dollars to persuade you to embrace that tragic dream. Over against that, I put my protest: Don’t buy it. Don’t waste your life.”

“Desire that your life count for something great! Long for your life to have eternal significance. Want this! Don’t coast through life without a passion.”


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