Derelict Theology

I know I haven’t been updating like I should but lately it seems like I really don’t have much to talk about. Life is good. No major complaints. I’ve been reading this book lately, though, that’s turned my world upside down. It’s called “Irresistible Revolution” by Shane Claiborne. And it’s all about how Christianity has missed the mark for loving the poor and broken of this world, how the haves and the have nots are so seperated that it’s ridiculous, and how most of our “charity” towards them is not really charity at all but a way to clear our conscience of guilt for the poor.

Since I took our youth to camp I’ve been thinking a lot about what I need and what I want. Often times, my wants way overshadow my needs, and it creates problems in my finances. All because I need more stuff. I’ve decided recently that more stuff really just makes life complicated. It’s a burden that’s hard to bear and it consumes you and makes you need more and more even though you’ve already got a lot. And I’ve realized that by hording and gaining more and more that I’m not really honoring God, in fact, I may have been hindering His work in my life.

Some of my faithful readers (all 4 of you) may know that I’ve been an avid collector of Transformers for years. My collection has grown tremendously over the years and I have over 1200 pieces in my collection. And I am quite proud of it. Was quite proud of it. God did something my heart one night last week and suddenly I came to be pretty sick of my collection. Just like that. And he reminded me, in the quietness of an insomniatic night, that I had been asked to give them up 3 years earlier. And so did. They are all going up for sale starting this week. And it’s a huge step for me. It’s a painful step, but I know it’s for the best. I no longer want to spend money on things just for myself, but for my family. And that’s where this money will go.

If you are the praying type, as you read this, please pray for me that I have the strength to do this necessary thing. And pray that God will continue to show me what to do with my life and that I will have the courage to follow it.

3 months ago I sat nervously watching your mommy get an IV, while listening to her complain that the room we were in didn’t have a TV. I walked across the room, opened a cabinet, and suddenly she smiled….I’d found the television. We watched The Price is Right, The View, the Game Show Network…basically anything we could do to keep our mind off you. You were on your way, and the anticipation was nearly enough to kill us. I’ll admit I was more than a little scared. I mean, I’d never done this before. What could a 26 year old know about being a dad? Thoughts raced through my mind that I’d never had before. I sat and tried to finish a lesson for Wednesday night youth service, and I did, but my thoughts were always on you.

Every now and then I’d look over at your mommy as she lay there in bed and read magazines. I knew she was just as uncomfortable as me, but she wouldn’t say it. Your mommy is one tough lady. Your grandma, grandpa, Pa, and Mimi took turns in the waiting room with me. Others even stopped by to wait or to offer their prayers. They knew just what I had no clue about: you were so special, even then. Finally, the time came for you to be born, and mommy went to surgery, with Mimi in tow, because your daddy couldn’t stand the thought of your mommy being cut open. 45 tense minutes later, and there you were, screaming into the world with a huge set of lungs that I knew you could have only gotten from me.

When I think about the greatest moments of my life, I will always think about when I first saw you. There you were, laid out on the table in the nursery like some alien being, with goop in your eyes and something hanging out of your belly button that was blue. Your hair was going every which way and you were squirming around, and I knew then that you were going to be full of life. I stood by while the nurses cleaned you up and I was able to video you, and take pictures. When I turned around, there were all your relatives crowding around the windows to the nursery, trying their best to be the first one to get a glimpse of you. It wasn’t long before you were wrapped up and whisked away from us for tests, and we waited again.

Mommy came back to the room and she was groggy from surgery, but she was so beautiful. Then, in that moment, you came through the door for the first time and I knew that I was done for. The old life I’d lived was dead and here you were to help us build a new one. There’s a picture on the bulletin board that hangs over my desk at the office, and there in the corner is a picture of me with you for the first time. I’m smiling like I’m happy, but inside I had no idea what I’d gotten myself into. My stomach was churning. And now that I look at it, wow, you’ve changed so much! You’ve gone from the little potato that used to have to constantly have a blanket on him to the child that giggles and coos as he lays in the bed beside me at 6 in the morning. To the child who grins back at me. To the child that laughs when grandpa makes silly faces, or when Mimi talks to him.

Son, you constantly blow me away, and there is no greater job in this life than to be your father. Thanks for an awesome 3 months.

I remember when I was little, my dad spent a lot of time outside. A lot of his Saturdays were spent working in the yard, and after we moved when I was 8 years old, he spent a lot more time than normal, because our yard went from small to huge. He would be out early, just as soon as the dew burnt off the grass, firing up the riding mower or weedeater. He would always be dressed the same: a pair of dark navy pants or old worn out khakis, some worn down tennis shoes, and an old workshirt. He topped off the outfit with a ragged looking straw hat. The outfit got so familiar that you always knew what he was doing if he had it on.

Many a Saturday in my teenage years I would wake to the sound of the mower, and since I was so used to, it quickly became a comforting sound to me. Even today, the sound of a mower outside will start to put me to sleep, due to all the times I heard it. When the mower stopped, I would go out to the porch and carry Dad his favorite refreshment: a big glass of iced tea and a couple of paper towels. He’d hang them out of his back pocket and take a long swig of his tea while he sat on the porch for a few minutes, then he would go back to work. Often, when he was over, or if he needed gas while he was mowing, he would load me up in the truck, roll down the windows, and we’d drive to the gas station, where he would return with a cheeseburger and two Yoo-hoo chocolate drinks, one for me and one for him. There were a lot of times the Yoo-hoo helped wash down the setting sun as we drove around in the summer twilight.

But, through all of this, all those visual memories, there is one thing I remember more than all those: how he smelled. You might think this is a bit crazy, admiring the smell of a man who worked all day long in the hot sun, but on the contrary, there was something about that smell that spoke volumes. To me, it commanded respect. It told a story of a man who was proud of his work, and who didn’t mind getting dirty. It was sweat, gas, oil, and grass. It was the legacy that a man left to his son without knowing it. Just the other day I mowed my yard for the second time this season. Fighting carpenter bees (our shed is overrun with them) I manuevered the mower out of the shed and into the tall grass, carrying the gas can with me. I started to mow just as the breeze hit, and for the entire time I pushed, the sky stayed overcast, giving me just enough light to get a glisten of sweat, but not burn.

Our yard only takes about an hour to mow, but for some reason that day it took me a bit longer. Maybe I was tired, or maybe I was just thinking, but by the time I was done, I was sweaty. I’d spilled gas on myself because I had to go get some in the middle of the job and I hadn’t gotten the top on exactly right. I’d tried to look for the place where the oil went, so my hands were greasy. But finally, after all the work, the yard was done. And it looked great. I put the mower away, locked the gas in the shed, and started toward the house. The sun broke through the leaves overhead and glittered a path toward the backdoor, and that’s when it hit me. That familiar smell of sweat, gas, oil, and grass. It drifted toward me on the wind and got stuck in my nostrils. I stopped, half expecting to see him standing in front of me, wiping his brow with a paper towel as he held his straw hat in his hand, his face cluttered with dirt and bits of grass. But, when I looked around, he wasn’t there. His car wasn’t in the driveway, and the realization that he was over 2 hours away, probably just getting home from work, began to sink in.

I shrugged it off as a trick of my imagination and made my way into the house, kicking off my work shoes by the door, careful not to track grass into the house. I made my way to the fridge, pouring myself a glass of Kool-aid and grabbing a piece of cheese before making my way to the kitchen. I set the food down on the table and turned, heading back toward our bedroom in order to get rid of my sweaty clothes. As I pulled the hem of my t-shirt up and over my shoulders, it was there again, that same smell, and this time, it didn’t fool me. This time, I knew where it was coming from.

It was coming from me.

That familiar scent of hard work and pride was now all over me, and I couldn’t help but smile. I dropped my shirt into our laundry hamper and the smile wouldn’t leave. Now I was sure of something, something that I’d been feeling for awhile now. Something that told me that it was impossible to escape the inevitable: I was becoming just like him.

But, what I’d once fought for so long now gave way to sweet relief, that maybe someday I could be just like him, a loving, caring, giving man that put others before himself ALWAYS, that sacrificed countless, numerous dreams and material possessions and desires to see the little boy that he loved so much become the man he is now. And I realized that for every time I’d said I’d never be like him that I’d only cursed myself as well, because I was destined for this. I was destined for that smell and the realization that there is great joy that comes from a son becoming like his father, from finally coming full circle and seeing exactly who he is and what makes him tick.

I used to hate mowing the grass, but now I love it because I reminds me of what I really am.

Isaac Soren was born at 4:37 p.m. on Monday, April 9. Since then, I’ve been a daddy, which amounts to just over 2 days. However, I never knew how much my world could change in such a short amount of time. From being nervous about the birth to being nervous about our first night to being nervous about the first night home, these last few days have been really draining. But, through it all, my beautiful son has never once made me regret the time spent.

In just the short amount of time that he’s been here I’ve become an emotional wreck. I can’t make it through a day without crying. And, it’s not a sad cry. It just seems these tears pop up from nowhere and come without warning. The slightest thing can set them off, including hearing him cry. I know it’s ok that he cries, but I still can’t get that through my head, I don’t guess. But, hopefully I will get better, and learn to be more calm.

This is the greatest adventure I’ve ever been on and though I’m anxious, I know that God is right here with me, seeing me through. And I can’t wait to see what Isaac will turn into.

June 8, 2001 - She walked into my life again, after it seemed like I would never see her again. I was playing music with a group of friends, we called ourselves Lesser, and we were booked a pretty off the map coffeehouse in Jackson, TN. About 12 people showed up. Her and her 3 friends were part of that 12. She said she’d seen a flyer for the show on campus and recognized me, so she came. We drove away after packing up our gear and I didn’t think much about it.

June 16, 2001 - She started becoming a regular at our shows. She probably put more money in the “Tonka Tip Truck” that she needed or wanted to. Her and her friends made us t-shirts. We packed out another coffeehouse…30 people showed up, but she was the one I noticed the most. Why come see some obscure band twice in a row?

July 4, 2001 - More shows, more times she shows up. I take the jr. high route and ask her friends if she’s dating anyone. I get the right answer, which is “no.” So, I stick my neck out there and start talking to her more at shows. She notices. We talk at night, sometimes 4 hours at a time. She invites me to meet her family a BBQ on the 4th. What she doesn’t tell me is that I won’t just be meeting her family but almost all her close friends as well. It went great, though. We kissed for the first time, and it was like lightning. Back at the interstate, when I was about to leave, I awkwardly asked her if we could start calling this “thing” official. She said yes, and I thought I might fly back home.

November 8, 2002 - She’s put up with me for 4 months now. God and I have talked, and I’m sure this is it. I buy the ring. Nothing special, I think, but she’s always said it was beautiful. I hide it, but not very well. I can’t wait to see her face. I plan a picnic, that ends up being in the pitch dark. Candles don’t help. We eat and I invite her to go see a waterfall nearby. She flat out refuses. So, with my plan blown, my mind races to find another solution. We end up at the Post Office in Dickson, TN, the highest point in the city. We look at the lights, I tell her that I love her, and why I brought her there, and then I drop to one knee, with cars rushing by on the road behind us, and ask her to marry me. She says yes. This time, I cry.

June 8, 2002 - One after she walked back into my life, now she’s walking down the aisle toward me. Months of planning lead up to a 15 minutes ceremony that, of course, wasn’t your normal wedding. We didn’t want it to be. She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, and I can barely say the vows I’ve written for her. This makes me feel like a goober. Two rings, and some repeated words later, and now we’re man and wife. In two weeks, I’ve graduated from college, gotten married, and will be arriving in Adamsville, TN to take the reigns of a youth and children’s ministry. The pieces begin to fall together.

August 4, 2006 - 4 years of marriage, and things are still good. She’s still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen…more so now. She’s my rock, my pillar of strength. She is weak where I am strong, and she is strong where I am weak. Over the past four years, tears have been shed and a burden carried. She thinks we’ll never have children. It’s Thursday night. I’m sitting on the floor in my office at home, probably messing with some Transformers. I hear a scream from the other side of the house. A loud scream. I think she’s found a snake, a rat, or something. I hear her running toward the office. She’s screaming….is that what I think she’s saying? “I’m pregnant! We’re pregnant!” My eyes go wide. I can’t believe it. God continues to bless beyond measure, and in my overwhelmed state, I’m sure my reaction to the news was less than spectacular.

April 9, 2007- This day doesn’t exist yet. The dawn hasn’t broken over the horizon yet. But today, we found out that on April 9, that our little boy will arrive in this world. When I heard, I was standing in the emergency room of Hardin County Hospital, visiting a church member. She told me, and of course, I thought she was joking. But, at her insistance, I knew that it was real, and immediately I felt like my knees were going to buckle. All these questions that had been swirling in my mind for months now seemed to be swirling around in my gut, making it feel like I’d swallowed a cannonball. She smiles at me when I get home. She’s on the couch, resting like she should be. I know she’s uncomfortable and I wish I could do something to help, but in 4 days that won’t be a problem. In four days, we graduate into a whole new set of “problems”, and as my uncertainty gives way to wonder and praise, I realize that I can’t wait to dive in and leave doubt behind, and let God lead.

And as I sit here and re-read all this, I realize just how blessed I am. At just how amazing the ride has been to this point, and how exciting it’s going to be from now on. And just to think, had I never taken the chance on something beautiful, she and I would never be together. And now, I stand on the threshold of a new life, of something that I’m totally unprepared for because I’ve never been there, but once again, I’m ready to take a chance on something beautiful and leap into that life with arms wide open, knowing that my Heavenly Father will catch me in His outstretched hand.

This week I had to do my first funeral. Now, it wasn’t my first funeral to ever attend. Being a minister, you end up attending a lot of funerals. But, this funeral was different, because it was for my wife’s grandmother, Louise Foley. And it was different because it was the first funeral I’d ever had a part in besides singing. The family requested that I sing “I Can Only Imagine” and then do the obituary part of the service. As you can guess, I was pretty nervous. It’s amazing to me that they chose me to read the brief story of her life. It was an honor to stand there and read those words and have the opportunity to share words of my own. In her honor, I read parts of Proverbs 31, which talks about the characteristics of a virtuous woman, many of which she embodied. I will miss her, and I know the family will as well.

There is very little time before Isaac arrives. As each day passes, I’m getting more and more nervous as I think about what type of father I’m going to be, and what type of father I don’t want to be. Sometimes I’m just able to sit back and be awed by the fact that in a few short weeks, I am going to be a daddy. There will be yet another life that I’m responsible for. It’s in those moments that I doubt if I’m ready, and all I can do is pray and ask for help in doing what God wants me to. There are so many dreams that I have for Isaac, but the greatest is for the day that will come one of these days hopefully, when he is saved. I can’t think of anything greater, and it’s something that I pray for often when I think about my child. In fact, I’d appreciate it if you prayed for that as well.

So I’m chilling at the ‘rents. It’s something everyone should do during the holidays, if they have the option. Not only do you get free food, but usually you get Christmas presents too! Erin and I arrived yesterday afternoon to my parents house and a metric ton of food prepared or waiting to be prepared. Already, we’ve eaten some amount of:

-lasagna
-garlic bread
-salad
-fried chocolate pie
-assorted chips
-bacon dip
-and lots of soda

Of course, that’s not healthy at all, but who cares? Christmas calories all count as 0 anyway. After dinner last night, we got our gifts, which were surprises, because they had already spent major bucks on us already (i.e. a Nintendo Wii and two games for me, and a huge Creative Memories scrapbook megakit for Erin. Both are veddy, veddy niiiiiiiiiiiccce.) So, last night, I got Yoshi’s Island DS for, what else, my DS. I also got a Lifesaver’s Sweet Storybook, which is an Estes Family tradition dating back to the Estes Vikings….who, instead of giving each other books filled with candy, gave each other books coated in the blood of their enemies. I guess you can see the similarities.

Erin got a nice baby book since we found out this past Monday that Isaac Soren Estes was indeed a boy! She also got some very delicious Ferrero Rocher chocolate bon bons that I plan to steal posthaste. Mostly, we’ve just sat around, watched movies (Barnyard and Talladega Nights), and ate, which has been wonderful. I have a small case of sore wrist from playing too much Wii (the Opera Browser came available for download today, so now I don’t even have to get on the computer to check my mail!), but that will see to itself. The best part really has been spending time with family, relaxing, and enjoying just being alive. Slowing down for Christmas and Thanksgiving really is one of my favorite times of the year.

If I don’t get to post until then, have a Merry Christmas!

…is to feel normal again. Monday night Erin and I decided to go a late showing of Eragon with some youth, and by the end of the movie I was feeling totally gross. My stomach hurt, I was weak, and I was very tired. I didn’t know what was wrong, so we stopped by Walmart by the theatre and got me some Rolaids, and I slept all the way home. That night, the contents of my stomach planned an emergency evacuation about 1:30 a.m., and again at 3:00 a.m. At first, we thought it was the hot dog I’d gotten at the theatre, but when I woke up Tuesday morning feeling just as bad, I knew it was more. It was the dreaded stomach virus that has been going around all the schools lately.

Guess I got it this weekend on Winter Retreat. Anyway…I’ve spent more time in bed than awake the last few days, spent more time in the bathroom than I care to count, and I’ve eaten the grand total of two poptars, an order of popcorn chicken from sonic, a piece of sausage cassarole, and a cocktail weiner. One. And I still feel like crap….we’re supposed to leave for my parent’s house tomorrow for christmas, but I don’t know that we’ll be leaving if I don’t feel better. Ugh. I hate being sick near the holidays.

I feel like I’ve started a new road in my life, one where I’m looking out for myself a little more than I used to. It all started at the YS convention about three weeks ago, when I stopped to read a book I’d had on my shelf for a few weeks “What Matters Most: When Saying No is Better Than Saying Yes” by Doug Fields. The book is all about how saying “no” to things that come up in ministry is better than saying yes. I decided that with the baby on the way, and with stress at an all time high, maybe it was time to re-evaluate my role in our ministry and life in general.

The first way I put that into practice was to renew my commitment to a date night with Erin. So last week we started that again by going out to eat and going to see “Facing the Giants”. Tonight, we stayed in and rented “Over the Hedge” and ate some leftovers, and that was ok too. But, the inevitable phone call came.

Youth 1: Can we come over and play the Wii?

Me: Nope (cringe)….try again tomorrow.

Youth 1: Ok.

We were almost ready to star the movie, and the phone rang again.

Youth 2: Hey man, whatcha doin’?

Me: About to start date night with my beautiful wife….

Youth 2: Oh, that’s cool, I just wanted to see what you were doing.

Me: Ok, see ya later.

Saying “no” stinks sometimes, but we spent a nice relaxing evening at home and I really do feel relaxed. So, in a way, it’s better.

Another way I’ve decided to say no is to weigh and measure what I do as far as ministry stuff. I’ve asked my church for a sabbatical. Not a very long one, but the opportunity to take a month off in July of next year. That would give me a chance to rest a little after being at camp for two weeks in a row, and also enjoy some time with Erin and our baby before she goes back to work.

So, when is no better than yes? When it leaves more time, less stress, and it brings more time with the people I love.

Recently, this question has been rolling over and over in my mind, because it seems that everywhere I look, I see this type of teaching when it comes to popular, mainstream Christianity. The rise of Joel Osteen to the public eye has catapulted what’s called the “prosperity” doctrine to center stage. And it’s not just Osteen who’s preaching this type of view, it’s popular pastors across the nation like T.D. Jakes, Joyce Meyer, and it even reaches down into the local church as well. Time Magazine recently ran an article on this very thing, and it’s cover asked the same question above: Does God want me to be rich? Honestly, I’m baffled that many people who say they know their Scripture and know Jesus would still buy into this way of believing. To be clear: I have a big problem with it. I do not believe God wants us to be rich. But, I believe there are ways that God does bless us to abundance, and it can’t be measured by a bank account in most cases. Let me share some reasons that I disagree with this line of thinking.

1. Jesus said to “deny ourselves.” - If you read the Gospels, 3 out of the 4 mention a specific statement by Jesus that he made to his disciples. Matthew 16:24 says “Then Jesus said to his disciples, ‘If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me.’” Mark 8:34 puts it this way: “Then he called the crowd to him along with his disciples and said: ‘If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me.’” Finally, Luke 9:23 says: “Then he said to them all: ‘If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me.’” Seriously, where in this is seen any room for a life that is seeking gain for itself? Where is there room for success? Where is there room for prosperity? Jesus doesn’t say “If anyone would come after me then let him have a fat wallet”, or “If anyone would come after me, let him sow his seed and believe that I will give him a car and it will be so.” Jesus instead calls us to a life not of prospering, but of death. The call to follow Jesus, to take up the cross, is a call to DIE. My problem with prosperity doctrine believers is that they are being fooled to believe that God is the Heavenly ATM and if they will just get things right as they follow Him that it will unlock the magic code and money and blessings will flow into their life like never before. And that is creating a consumer driven form of Christianity, as if we didn’t have that already.

2. The claim to “abundance.” - Another problem I have with the prosperity doctrine is that they claim that it is our right to have abundance while we are here on Earth. Televangelist Benny Hinn once said “If I have to hear about gold streets in Heaven one more time, I’m going to throw up! I say, I want them here, Lord! I want golden streets right now!” At the heart of the prosperity doctrine, this teaching is key: prosperity means that we have abundance, or the best of everything, right now. 2 Timothy 4:8 says “Now there is in store for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will award to me on that day—and not only to me, but also to all who have longed for his appearing.” In store. Not now. And it seems to me that the focus of our faith should not be how much we can get now, but becoming more like Jesus every day. The key verse of this doctrine is John 10:10, which says “The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.” Honestly, can we say that Jesus was telling us there that he has come to give us life, and life that includes big houses, fat paychecks, new cars, and anything else we want? Assuming that only assumes again that Jesus’ main job was not our salvation, but to be the genie in the lamp, and make us comfortable. The full life that John 10:10 refers to is mentioned in other translations as “abundant life”. If we believe that the eternal life we receive when we come to Christ is a supernatural gift, would it not be logical to say that that life would spill over the mortal confines it’s brought into? That’s why it’s eternal…it’s abudant! It spills over the barriers of our normal life and keeps going, bringing us into the very presense of the Lord! It’s not about material things or success, it’s about a relationship with God!

3. Who Believes This? - Quite honestly: the poor. The ones who are already struggling get told by televangelists that if they will send in their prayer request with a “love gift” that God will not only answer their prayers, heal them, and make life better but that he will also return their blessing in abundance. Biblical teaching, in a way, but Biblical teaching that is twisted way out of line. Senior adult ladies sit in their homes, making barely enough to survive on Social Security, and they are asked to give astounding “love gifts” that reach into the sum of thousands of dollars. Now, this might seem like the widow’s mite for sure, but never in Scripture was the widow promised anything in return for her gift. Jesus simply told everyone, AFTER HER GIFT, that she’d given more than anyone else, for her gift had been more of a sacrifice. And it’s the poor who sacrifice more than anything with this doctrine, because they believe God is their hope for a better, more financially stable life. Saying that, it sounds awfully callous and cold, because God is our hope for a better life, but if all we depend on God for is financial stablity, then we are missing out and putting God into a box. I really don’t think that God honors a teaching that takes advantage of the poor and downtrodden while the ones claiming to have a word from the Lord get richer and richer. After all, Jesus did say in Matthew 25:45: “He will reply, ‘I tell you the truth, whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me.’” When we take from the least of our society in order to get richer, and do nothing to help them in return, we are in big trouble, and I would not want to be standing in that position.

If you study the teachings of Jesus in the New Testament, and his Disciples after him, you will notice one thing: they always speak about sacrifice. To follow Christ in those days took an enormous amount of sacrifice, dedication, and pain. What, in 2000+ years has changed? Do we have a different God now? Did he suddenly decide that sacrifice really wasn’t what He looks for in a child of His? If we don’t think that sacrifice is a necessary part of the Christian life, then why do we embrace a man who sacrificed everything He had to give, his life, on a cross? Every single one of the disciples lived a life of hardship because of their dedication to Jesus. Many church members were killed or exiled because of their faith. Nero used Christians as human torches to light his gardens at night. Millions of believers the world over have paid the ultimate price because of their faith, and the number grows daily. Does this sound like prosperity to you? It is certainly not the prosperity of the “prosperity doctrine” but in a way, it is success. They stood firm, they never backed down, and because of that, they earned their reward. Not an SUV, not a multi-million dollar home, not a closet full of name brand clothes. No book deals, no TV shows. Instead, they finally entered into the hope that we all have: being in the presense of God forever.

Does God want me rich? Not in the way that is popular. Richness with God is found in the private, inward relationship, and it can’t be counted in dollars or stock. Abundance is the overflow of the love of God, the life that he’s given me. And none of that comes without denial. Daily we must rise and give ourselves to God, who will decide what we are supposed to be and do that day, not us. Psalm 115:1 says: “Not to us, O LORD, not to us but to your name be the glory, because of your love and faithfulness.”

If we really believe that, why seek prosperity?