The God of Last Resort Part 1.

God always acts on purpose according to His Word. That is the way He set up His economy. It is an economy fueled by the Word of His power. That economy performs whenever we are ready to let it, even if we insist upon making Him the...

God of Last Resort.

"The God of Last Resort." What a strange title to a discussion about God. This is actually a discussion about the relationship that we have with Him. We are the ones who decide about the depth of any relationship we choose to make.

Have you ever wondered why miracles occur in third world countries but you don't hear much about them happening where you live? As we move through this conversation together we'll talk about why that is the case, and what you can do to change it in your life if you want to see miracles at your house. As a teaser on that, one thing that has to happen is that we have to "rebelieve" that God still does miracles on purpose. More about that later. But first, let's begin with a story.

I don't know if it is true, but I think I have met these guys. Maybe you know them too. A deacon and an usher are out on the front steps of the church one Sunday morning taking a smoking break during the sermon. It is a mystery why they smoke during the sermon, but perhaps the sermons at their church aren't all that good. The usher began the conversation by saying, "I had a tough week this week." "Really?" answers the deacon. "Yeah," says the usher, "I lost my job down at the factory." "Oh no!" chimes the deacon. "I know, but that ain't all," the usher responds, between puffs on his cigarette, "my wife left me, too!" "That's terrible!" the deacon sympathizes, "it couldn't get worse than that...!" "But it did," the usher responds, "I ran over my favorite huntin' dog with my pickup!" "No!" mourns the deacon, "I loved that dog!" "Yeah, me too!" answers the usher. "But after that my house burned down and--worst of all--the repo man done come and took my pickup truck!" The deacon, shaken by his friend's misfortune, dropped his cigarette on the step and ground it out with his shoe, put a somber look on his face and declared, "Perhaps we should pray about this!" The usher, completely taken off guard by the deacon's suggestion replied in a confused, but hushed voice, "Has it come to that?"

Funny.

Or is it?

Or is it the way we all respond to the suggestion of injecting God into the situations present in everyday life?

More importantly, if I get so casual with my relationship with God that I have to "inject" Him into a life event, what does that say about my relationship with Him?

We'll talk more together about this the next time we visit in Part 2.