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Written by: Don Goulding

Published: 18 July 2022

From one man he [God] made every nation of the human race to inhabit the entire earth, determining their set times and the fixed limits of the places where they would live… (Acts 17:26)

Scientists wanted to know if Einstein’s theory of relativity was true, so they placed an atomic clock, accurate to a billionth of a second, on an airplane. They flew the clock around the globe, then compared its time to another atomic clock. The times were different—proof that motion changes time.

Measuring beams that traveled near our heavy sun from the space probe Cassini, physicists demonstrated that gravity also alters time. Minutes and hours pass more slowly on a massive star than on earth, relative to motion and gravity.

Because my life is confined to a singular timed existence, I have difficulty grasping the elasticity of time. God, on the other hand, transcends his creation. He stretches and shapes time, portions it out, or removes its limits altogether, as he chooses. He is the Master of time.

When God blessed me with his endowment of time, he chose where I live on history’s timeline, the number of my days, and the rate at which time advances for me. It’s a personalized gift not to be taken for granted. The grains will run out, and sooner than I imagine. Another fifty have slipped through the hourglass in the time it took to write this sentence. The unequivocal reckoning is near.

“What did you do with my gift of time?”

That’s the question God will ask, and my excuses will hide me about as well as transparent glass.

What did I do with the bit of time I held in my hands? Did I squander it on pleasures that melted into oblivion the moment they passed, or did I intentionally bring eternal honor to Jesus Christ? 

It’s better that I answer these questions now, while I still have time to change.

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Written by: Don Goulding

Published: 11 July 2022

Obey your leaders and submit to them, for they keep watch over your souls and will give an account for their work. (Hebrews 13:17)

“Hey, Paul,” my voice gave a mid puberty squeak, “my parents are gone. Come pick me up.”

Paul arrived with other boys, and we brewed schemes of teenage rascality. As the night unfolded there were primal yells, illegal entries, and stolen goods.

The revelry jerked to a halt when the police stopped us for spinning doughnuts on our high school lawn. We denied the charge, but a grass covered souped-up Chevy made for an unconvincing tale. We spent the rest of the night in the town jail. So much for a parent free adventure.

God maintains order through hierarchies of authority, in both the physical and spiritual realms. In the material world he works through parents, governments, even armies, on occasion. In the church, he uses elders and pastors (AKA bishops, shepherds, overseers, & presbyters).

I was a foolish teenager when I cast off submission to authority, and I paid a dear price. As an adult, how often do I ignore the authority of my church leaders and lose out on blessings for myself and others? Do I even consult them about life decisions?

The anointing over positions within the body of Christ is bigger than the persons holding the offices. That’s not to say we should follow blindly. Leaders need to be held accountable to the Bible, and woe to the ones who misuse their authority. But when I submit to their Spirit led direction, I’m under the umbrella of God’s protection. To step out from under that privilege is more foolish than spinning doughnuts on the lawn.

Prayer: Father, use my church leaders to keep watch over my soul.

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Written by: Don Goulding

Published: 05 July 2022

But since we have the same spirit of faith as that shown in what has been written, “I believed; therefore I spoke,” we also believe, therefore we also speak. (2 Corinthians 4:13)

Mockingbirds, you either love their midnight serenades, or you hate them. To me, they are DJ’s playing the favorite songs of other birds. They memorize what they hear and remix it into a playlist that rocks through the night.

According to biologists, mockingbirds aren’t expressing joy that’s pent up in their little birdie hearts. The males sing to establish the boundaries of their territory. The volume and eloquence are meant to intimidate rivals into staying away from their mating and feeding territory. Mockingbirds sing from compulsion, not only from delight.

I, too, have songs trapped in my chest. Jesus giving his life for us is not an event I can keep to myself. Like the mockingbird, it’s not only my delight, but my compulsion. I must sing.

The gospel has not been explained to forty percent of the global population. I can start by asking that group for permission to sing.

For the percentage that has heard about Jesus, most disbelieve because they haven’t witnessed changed lives in those who preach. For them, the Christian message is so much rhetoric from copycat mockingbirds.

I can talk about the gospel, write about it, even sing it out, but my most effective communication is made by my lifestyle. Only when my words match my actions does my proclamation become a sweet song instead of a grating annoyance.