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Who Is God To Me Essays

God's Calling For Me Essay

A question that is asked by many Christians is whether or not God is currently working within their immediate life. Most if not all Christians are aware that God is a being that does have a presence within His creation, however some question if he actually is involved with their actual life. For me I would say that I do believe that God does have an immediate presence in my life, and has set a hand in my vocation. I plan to be a lawyer, U.S diplomat, or possibly a politician. I believe that God is actively involved with law and politics. Law and politics are the core policies that keep the country and most of society together as a whole. Overall, God has made a plan for me to enter into this vocation to not only maintain social order, but also to clear the corruption that has been escalating over the years.
God is a being that gives orders and has expectations. In our society, we have the same mind frame. We want our citizens to be civil, orderly, and overall dignified through their daily lives. Unfortunately not every citizen believes this is the case and they rebel. I was raised to live the most righteous lifestyle possible, so those who disobeyed the law confused me growing up. This is the main to why I believe that God is pushing me to be a lawyer. God has influence over how we are raised and how we see the world around us. Growing up in the post-9/11 age, our society has seen atrocities, scandals, and cover ups. I believe God has given me this passion for law so that I can change our society…. A verse that clearly states an objective from God about law is Romans 13:1-2 “Let every person be subject to the governing authorities. For there is no authority except from God, and those that exist have been instituted by God. 2 Therefore whoever resists the authorities resists what God has appointed, and those who resist will incur judgment.” Basically from that it is concluded that God is actively working through law since he is the supreme law of the universe. God has set up law and government and has appointed those to enforce His commands. For me I believe that God is calling me to be one of the appointed authority figures that will keep civility within our society. A lawyer’s job prosecution wise is to rid society of those who have disobeyed the commands set....

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Mission Essay

871 words - 3 pages The concept of mission is a complex one and many people have different definitions of what mission is and should be. Some feel mission applies to a body of envoys sent to a foreign country or, "A purpose for which a person or group of people are sent." (Oxford Dictionary) Many hold the opinion that mission is a purpose or task that people feel themselves drawn to; their vocation.Jesus was called by God and sent to earth to be, "a light...

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Existence of God Benedict De S

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Les Miserables: Redemption by the Divine

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The will

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Reflections on Freewill

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God's Gift to Women. Analyze song lyrics using two vectors of feminist theory.

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The Ruole of Cyrus the Great in Israel's Developing Understanding of God

3615 words - 14 pages THE ROLE OF CYRUS THE GREAT IN ISRAEL'SDEVELOPING UNDERSTANDING OF GODA RESEARCH PAPER SUBMITTED TOIN PARTIAL FULFILLMENT OF THE REQUIREMENTS FORTHE COURSE OTSB661, ISAIAHLIBERTY BAPTIST THEOLOGICAL SEMINARYLYNCHBURG, VASATURDAY, DECEMBER 28, 2013ContentI. Abstract 3II. Introduction...

I grew up quietly and without thought. My mom was a secretary at the Baptist church, and I led the worship team senior year of high school. My youth pastor was one of my best friends. I believed in God and my parents, my friends, and the four walls of my house. All things were within reach, simple and inspiring. And I told my girlfriend I wanted to be a writer.

She told me I was very smart and of course I’d be a writer. I wrote a rhyming 12-line poem over the course of three days, a maze of abstraction. I read it over and over until I had it memorized. In high school English, I dazed off reciting my poem in my head, the poem that would soon be recited by everyone in 12th-grade English across the country, once I settled on a publisher. Soon after, I began work on my first novel, a period piece about a 17th-century Huguenot family fleeing the Inquisition.

Eager to continue my spiritual journey, I went to a private Christian college in Oregon complete with a lifestyle contract. Freshman year, I met Frank, a lifelong philosopher. He was a couple rooms down from me. He asked me all sorts of wild questions I had never thought about before, like, “Well, why do you believe that?” Everything I said that year, Frank would ask me that question. Then I started asking myself that question about every thought I had. It was a sort of game, which most of the time sounded like this:

Why shouldn’t I have sex before I marry?

Because the Bible says it’s a sin.

Why?

Because it keeps you from Him.

Why doesn’t all sex keep you from Him?

Because premarital sex does not require any commitment.

Why do you need commitment?

Because sex is special.

Why do you think that?

Because it says so in the Bible.

Why do you believe the Bible?

Because it’s God’s word.

How do you know that?

Because it says it in there.

Well, I am speaking the words of God right now, do you believe me?

No.

Why not?

Because. . . .

The game generally started with a question, cycled through my beliefs, and ended with “because. . . .” Soon it was ending in just “. . . .”

I took a class called “The Problem of Religious Diversity” that quickly had me believing that just about any belief system could be true and that no one could prove anything. It never occurred to me until then that people who believed something other than Christianity had the same reason for believing their faith as I did for believing mine.

How about that?

I ran into an old Sunday school teacher sophomore year and told him I’d been thinking that maybe it’s not true that everyone who’s not a Baptist will go to Hell. He looked me straight in the eye with saintly gravity and said: “The Bible is very clear: if you believe that, you aren’t a Christian. In fact, if we were in the 17th century right now, you’d be burned at the stake.” I, of course, knew this from all the research I’d done for my novel. But the way he said it put me in a state of fear at first, then repentance, then confusion, and lastly anger. I rebelled from the religion that contained all the smallness of my childhood. I cursed my Baptist teacher, God and the novel, and fled to Russia for a study-abroad semester sponsored by a coalition of Christian colleges.

The first person I talked to there was Dan, a student at Grace College in Michigan. He immediately asked the last question I wanted to hear: “So what’s your faith look like?” I went cold. I wanted to bleat my usual Jesus-story and be done with it, but the ice on my ribs wouldn’t let me lie. I reluctantly collapsed and told him that honestly, I didn’t know anything anymore and nothing was real. Turns out, Dan was in the same place I was.

Together we raved and doubted and yelled and trembled all semester long. We felt the black blood of Dostoevsky and descended the dark stairs of Derrida and Sartre. Some nights, we would just sit across from each other and stare, estranged by the cold of a new, uncertain world. After one of these nights of existential fog, as I got up to go, I turned to Dan and said, “The only meaningful thing left to do in this world, it seems, is to sit quietly with a friend until dark and then say goodnight.”

Then, on a snow-gray Russian day, riding a packed bus, a song came on my iPod that froze me in time. In a sense, I’m still there on that bus listening to that song with watering eyes. It was a song called “Clouds” by As Cities Burn that said: “Is your god really God? / Is my god really God? / I think our god isn’t God / If he fits inside our heads.”

With the terrifying pull of rubber bands, I expanded beyond the length of the bus, grew from the street to the sky. Then I snapped and everything came undone. I resigned entirely. God won’t fit inside our heads, and if He does, we’re missing something. And I knew all I’d been waiting for was to know that to admit doubt was not to lose faith. A few simple lines of an Indie rock song pushed me to see hope amid uncertainty.

It snowed continually my last two weeks in Russia. I met Dan one morning at a small cafe, Biblioteca, where we drank bottomless black tea and watched the snow pile up on the street. He said he had prayed the night before. I said I was ready to step back into a church.

Our last Sunday in Moscow, we attended Mass, an Orthodox church, then a mosque. Dan said we were a Protestant service away from a monotheistic grand slam. At Mass, I wrote in my journal, “God, see that I’m trying.”

It was the first time I had prayed in more than a year.