But before Saul sent David out to fight he let him borrow his personal, kingly armor, which included a bronze helmet and a coat of mail. David put on the armor and tried walking around in it but found it to be too cumbersome and ill-fitting. Saul was a very tall man, the tallest in all Israel, and young David was much shorter. So David politely declined the offer and chose instead to arm himself with five smooth stones, which he placed in his shepherd’s pouch, and his sling. Of course, the rest is history.

I’m 45 years old now, and if I’ve learned nothing else about life I’ve learned one thing: You can’t be successful trying to wear armor that doesn’t fit you. You have to be yourself and strive to keep yourself in situations that suit you. Not every job is a good fit for you, even if the pay is good. Some neighborhoods just aren’t your style. Your relationships with certain people will never be quite right, no matter how hard you work at them. That’s just the way it is. The world has its Sauls, wearing their armor, and its Davids, carrying shepherd’s pouches and slings. People are different.

That’s why it’s so important that you learn to appreciate it when you find yourself in a good circumstance. Don’t be so quick to run off from a spot that is obviously well-suited to you. If you’ve found people with whom you can get along, stay with them. If you’ve got a job that provides you with not only a paycheck but also contentment, stick with it. If you’ve discovered an oasis in a desert of life’s barrenness, sink your roots down into it and enjoy it. There’s nothing wrong with maintaining your individuality and being true to yourself. After all, God is the one who wired you the way you are. So why try to be someone you’re not or force your round peg into a square hole? That won’t work for you any more than wearing Saul’s armor worked for David. And could it be that Goliaths aren’t getting slain in your life simply because you aren’t fighting in a style that suits you? Think about it.

As it turned out, she wasn’t interested in selling at that time, but the reason she gave fascinated me. Very politely she told us, “No, I don’t want to sell right now because from past experience I’ve learned that I don’t make good decisions in winter.” I have to admit that when I heard that answer I thought to myself, “Good for you! There are people who go their entire lives and never recognize such a pattern about themselves.” I actually admired her for being able to figure that out about herself. You see, she is the type of person who is prone to melancholy and depression, and winter weather causes that to bubble up in her all the more. But through much introspection and self-analysis, she had learned that about herself and come up with a way of limiting its damaging effects in her life.

Well, in the end, Tonya and I bought another house, and quite a few years have passed since. Still, though, I remember the line: “I don’t make good decisions in winter.” I think of it when I want to resign from a church during a rough stretch of attendance, spirit, and offerings. I think of it when I want one of the boys to quit a ball team because a coach isn’t doing him right. I think of it when I want to sell our current house because I’ve grown frustrated with all the renovating and repairs it needs.

“I don’t make good decisions in winter” simply means: Always be wary of making a major, life-changing decision during a difficult time. It’s usually better to wait until the sun is warm, the birds are singing, attendance is up, the spirit is good, the money is fine, things are going well for your kid, the repairs are finished, and your overall outlook on life is upbeat. Then, if you can still make the same decision, you know the course of action is right for you.

It’s all about perception, isn’t it? Those customers were perceiving themselves to be getting more candy from that salesgirl, even though they really weren’t. Of course, that’s the problem with perception: it usually bears little semblance to the truth.

We Christians must admit that the perception lost people have of us usually isn’t all that glowing. They perceive us to be hypocritical, judgmental, bigoted, closed-minded, ignorant, irrational, and angry. Admittedly, some Christians can rightly be classified under each of those adjectives. There are many Christians, however, who can’t, and these are the ones who can’t be so easily explained away by lost people.

A world traveler visited the land of what had once been a savage race of cannibals. Actually, the only reason the man could even visit the land was because Christian missionaries had previously blazed the trail, learned the language, and won many of those cannibals to Christ. As the traveler struck up a conversation with one of the natives, he couldn’t resist sharing his views on Christianity with the native. He said, “I myself have no use for the religion. I don’t believe the Bible to be anything other than a man-made book. I don’t believe that Jesus was God in the flesh. And I don’t believe that I will somehow be changed if I believe in Him as my Savior.” To that the native answered, “My friend, if Jesus does not change lives, you would be in a pot by now.”

Is that story real? I doubt it. But could it be? Absolutely! As 2 Corinthians 5:17 says:

Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; old things have passed away; behold all things have become new.

The test that we Christians must pass daily is that of making the reality of this change align with the world’s perception of us. Putting it another way, we’ve got to act “new.” If we continue to commit our same old sins and hold to our same old wrong attitudes, that will create a false perception of us. Lost people will look at us and think, “I guess that Jesus thing didn’t work out so well.” On the other hand, if we exhibit a genuine change from cannibalistic to cordial (to go back to my illustration), from hypocritical to holy, from angry to affable, from judgmental to just, etc., then they won’t be able to dismiss us so quickly. And that is why it is so important that we walk the walk in addition to talking the talk.

One of the best descriptions I’ve ever read concerning the worldly, carnal, backslidden Christian comes from Charles Spurgeon. In the October 14 evening devotion from his book Morning & Evening, he compares such a Christian’s entrance into heaven to a shipwrecked sailor having to climb up the steep rocks of his homeland just to get home. There is no peaceful sail into the safe harbor. There is no confident expectation of praise for a job well done. There is no triumphant entrance. There is only the exhausted, worn out, frazzled Christian scratching and clawing his way to a place of safety.

My guess is that Spurgeon had 1 Timothy 1:18-20 in mind when he used that illustration. In those verses, the apostle Paul explains to the young preacher Timothy that some Christians have rejected faith and a good conscience and “concerning the faith have suffered shipwreck.” Paul then gives the specific names (Hymenaeus and Alexander) of two such Christians and says that he delivered them to Satan so they would learn not to blaspheme. According to 1 Corinthians 5:1-7, the term “delivered them to Satan” means what we call “church discipline” (excommunication, “churching” someone). This should show us just how serious backsliding is.

Spurgeon closes out his devotion with the following words:

It is dangerous for an heir of heaven to be a great friend with the heirs of hell. Even small inconsistencies are dangerous. Little thorns make great blisters, little moths destroy fine garments, and a little frivolity and mischief will rob faith of a thousand joys. O believer, you do not realize what you lose by your conformity to the world. It cuts the tendons of your strength and makes you crawl where you ought to run. For your own comfort’s sake and for the sake of your growth in grace, if you are a Christian, then be a marked and distinct Christian.

To these words I can only add the question: “Christian, do other people think of you as a marked and distinct Christian? I once heard a preacher say, “Some Christians don’t do enough for the Lord to attract a used demon!” Is that you, Christian? Are you, as not only Spurgeon but also Paul described, living a shipwrecked walk with Christ? If you are, my prayer is that you will do the necessary confessing and repenting today. Remember that 1 John 1:9 is still in the Bible and it still works:

If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.

Yesterday at our local pastors’ conference, the moderator asked each of us to name at least one thing for which we are thankful. The next twenty minutes or so turned out to be the highlight of the conference. Even though the singing was nice and the weekly sermon was interesting, hearing each pastor talk about the great things that God had done for him was spellbinding. Many of them cried as they spoke. All of them spoke in utter humility. One man told of how Jesus had saved him out of a family of bootleggers. Another talked about how wild he used to be before Christ’s transforming power radically changed his life. Another praised the Lord for meeting every need he had ever had. Another described how God had raised up his alcoholic daddy from a seemingly terminal illness to mercifully give that father more days to accept Christ as Savior and have, for the first time, a true relationship with his son. On and on it went like that around the room, story after story. The next time that you get to thinking that all preachers are fakes, hypocrites, or money hungry manipulators, come with me to a certain pastors’ conference that meets on Monday mornings. I know some men of God who are real.

And what word of thankfulness did I offer up when my turn came? Well, I thanked the Lord for how He broke me when I was in my early twenties. That experience changed me from a backslidden Christian into a sold out disciple and set me on the path to becoming a preacher. I also thanked Him for my wife and two boys. And yes, I was one of those who teared up as he spoke. Needless to say, I could have gone on for an hour naming things for which I am thankful (as each of us could have), but we had to restrain ourselves a bit if the scheduled speaker was going to be left any time to preach.

Everybody knows that Thanksgiving is this Thursday. But why wait until then to go to the Lord in prayer and express your gratitude? Have you got 30 minutes today? Then spend it just going down the list of all the things for which you are thankful. Don’t make any new requests. Don’t mention any of your problems. And put down that marble engraver for a while. Just have a time of saying, “Thank you” to the Lord. If you will make the effort to do this, I promise you that it will get your heart and mind prepared to genuinely celebrate Thanksgiving this coming Thursday.

But what bothers me about our little county (approximately 15,000 in number) is how easily we blur the line between authentic Christian conduct and rank worldliness. Some of the same people who go to church every Sunday morning don’t mind doing a good deal of drinking and carousing on Saturday night. Some of the ones who rant and rave about the sexual sin of homosexuality evidently don’t understand that adultery falls in that same category. Some of the ones who are quick to request prayer for themselves or their families are also far too well versed in backbiting, gossiping, and rumor spreading.

My point is that a lot of people love to hear about Christ, the Bible, forgiveness, grace, and salvation, but the numbers dwindle significantly when the topics become repentance, godly conduct, separation from the world, and personal holiness. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not promoting a works-based plan of salvation here. I myself sin every day and have to spend more time than I should asking the Lord for forgiveness of those sins. But with me sin is the exception, not the rule. It occurs outside the norm. It’s the uncommon, not the common. That’s what salvation has done to me (or better yet for me).

Perhaps an illustration will help me say what I’m trying to say. Little Billy was dressed for church in his Sunday best, but his mother wasn’t quite ready to go. So he went out in the back yard and started playing in the dirt. In just a few minutes his clothes were absolutely filthy. When his mother saw him she was furious. Passionately, Billy said, “Mom, I’m real sorry. Please forgive me.” She replied, “Okay, you’re forgiven but go change.” But Billy didn’t want to go back in the house and go to the trouble of dressing again. So he said, “No, I’ll just go as I am.” You see, he wanted forgiveness but not change. And, unfortunately, there seem to be a lot of Billys running around out there these days.

At that point the excuses started flying. One of the men said, “I wasn’t playing sheriff; I just dropped in to talk.” Another one said, “I wasn’t playing either, Sheriff; I was just visiting.” A third said, “I just came in to warm up by the stove.”

The fourth man sat quietly as all this went on around him. He continued to hold his cards and never once took his eyes off them. The sheriff looked at him and said with a smile, “Well, you certainly can’t deny that you’ve been playing cards.” The old man, still not looking up from his cards, slowly drawled, “Now, Sheriff, who would I be playing with?”

Oh, the excuses we make for our sins! We blame everyone from our parents to the government, when all the while the heart of the problem lies with us. Please understand that I’m not minimizing any sins that have been committed by your parents or your government, but also understand that there comes a time when you have to look in the mirror and take responsibility for your own sins. Face it, you have about as much of God as you want in your life.

You probably know Christ’s most famous parable, the one about the prodigal son (Luke 15:11-32). But do you know the verse that marks the turning point of that story? It’s Luke 15:17, which says of the son:

“But when he came to himself, he said, ‘How many of my father’s hired servants have bread enough and to spare, and I perish with hunger!’”

Be sure not to miss those all important words: But when he came to himself. You see, the prodigal’s life didn’t change for the better until he conducted a personal evaluation and was sufficiently shocked by what he found. And notice that Jesus didn’t say that the young man came to a revelation about how his parents had raised him, or one about how others had done him wrong, or one about the ills of his society. No, he came to a revelation about himself. He thought, “I brought myself to this lowly state.”

I don’t know your life, but perhaps you, like the prodigal, need to come to yourself. Maybe you need to stop blaming others for your troubles and start admitting to your own role in creating your mess. Excuses will only keep the status quo in tact and prevent you from returning to the blessings of the father’s house. I could also say a lot here about the importance of confession and repentance, but I’ll leave that off for another time. Right now the first order of business is to get you to realize that you are the problem. Until that happens, you’ll never be ready for the next step.

No matter how nice the cage is, it’s still a cage. It’s not freedom. It’s not limitless possibilities. It’s not the way to live. Sadly, many people are trapped in life’s cages. These cages have names such as drugs, alcoholism, gambling, pornography, etc. Perhaps these people enjoy fleeting moments of joy in these cages. Perhaps they know brief waves of contentment. But in the end, a cage will always be a cage, and it will never be the way God intends for the person to live.

I don’t mean to undermine or devalue the good work that is done by any group who helps people deal with addiction. Still, with that said, a relationship with Jesus will always be the best way to conquer an addiction. If an addict objects and says, “I don’t need Jesus to be my crutch,” a good response is, “You’ve already got a crutch; you just need to trade it in on a far better one.”

In John 8:34, the New King James translation reads as follows:

Jesus answered them, “Most assuredly, I say to you, whoever commits sin is a slave of sin.”

The fact is, though, this rendering doesn’t totally capture the full bloom of what Jesus said. Greek scholar Kenneth Wuest’s expanded translation of the New Testament gets more to the real point Christ was making. It translates the words “whoever commits sin” as “everyone who habitually commits sin.” You see, that more precise translation of the Greek takes us into the realm of addiction. Jesus isn’t talking about the man who sees a scantily clad woman on t.v., lusts for a moment, and then changes the channel (even though that moment of lust is a sin). He’s talking about the person who lives his life eaten up by lust and actively seeks out scantily clad women on t.v. or the internet so that he can stare at them for long periods of time and fantasize about them. Do you see the difference?

The good news is that right on the heels of talking about those who are such slaves to sin, Jesus gave the cure. He said:

“Therefore if the Son makes you free, you shall be free indeed.” (John 8:36, New King James translation)

You ask, “But how can Jesus offer such sure liberation from the addiction?” He can do it because He alone has the power to change the addict’s nature rather than just the behavior. In John 3:1-21, He explains how those who place their belief in Him as Savior are “born again.” To be “born again” is to have God the Holy Spirit literally take up residence inside your body (Romans 8:9). The Spirit will not obliterate your inborn, sinful, addictive nature, but He will bring to you a contrasting nature, a nature which is nothing less than the nature of God. 2 Peter 1:4 says that believers become “partakers of the divine nature,” and 2 Corinthians 5:17 describes this as becoming “a new creation.”

So, do you find yourself in some kind of cage right now? Is some addiction getting the best of you and ruining your life? Do you feel helpless to break free from its grip? If you answer “yes” to these questions, let me urge you to turn to Jesus. Maybe you need to genuinely place your belief in Him as Savior and become “born again.” Maybe you’ve already done that, but your fellowship and daily walk with Jesus have grown so anemic that you are severely limiting the indwelling Holy Spirit’s influence upon your life. Whatever your case may be, just know that your addiction is not bigger than Jesus, and that’s not just a cute little cliche that a preacher is supposed to say. Jesus stands ready right now to set you free from your cage. Will you let Him?

Now here’s the test question: Do you think that man will honor the “deal” that he made with God? The answer is: There’s a pretty good chance that he will go to church that first Sunday, but if nothing else changes he won’t keep up the attendance for long.

You see, it takes more than a quick moment of desperation to create a lasting turnaround in your life. As a pastor, I’ve seen so many people who were going through difficult times make grandiose boasts about what all they were going to do for the Lord if He helped them out of their messes. But how many of those boasts actually came to pass, even after the Lord gave the help? Maybe there were two or three, but right now I can’t even remember there being that many.

One Sunday morning I preached and gave an invitation, and a woman promptly made her way to the altar and knelt for prayer. When I went over and asked her why she had responded to the invitation, she told me something along the lines of she wanted to dedicate herself more completely to Jesus. She was crying hot tears and her face was something of a mess from the running makeup. I knew that she was sincere. I also knew that she was a good Christian woman who had some areas of her life that could have been more submitted to Christ’s lordship. So I prayed with her and asked the Lord to help her be even more devoted to Him. The emotion of the moment was almost palpable.

But did that woman even show up for the evening service that same Sunday? No. As I looked around the sanctuary that night and didn’t see her, I was in virtual disbelief. That was the moment when I truly understood for the first time just how fickle and inconsistent we are when it comes to serving the Lord.

Jesus knew us all too well. On the night of His arrest, He took Peter, James, and John into the garden of Gethsemane with Him. He said to them, “Stay here and watch with Me.” Then He walked alone a little further into the heart of the garden and prayed, “O My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from Me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as You will” (Matthew 26:39). Following that prayer, He returned to where He had left Peter, James, and John at their watch-post. And what did He find? Rather than keeping diligent watch, they had all drifted off to sleep.

After a fairly strong rebuke, Jesus summed up the problem by saying, “The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak” (Matthew 26:41). In my opinion, those words perfectly describe why that Christian woman didn’t come back for church that Sunday night. Her spirit was willing, but her flesh was weak. When she had devoted herself more fully to Jesus in the altar that morning, she had meant it. In that moment, she couldn’t have meant it any more. But, unfortunately, that moment had soon passed and the rest of her life had come crashing back in upon her.

I’m saying all of this to encourage you to work at eliminating the fickleness from your walk with the Lord. Try to avoid the roller-coaster devotion that marks the lives of so many people. I know that your flesh is weak. So is mine. But we can’t keep using that excuse to consistently fail the Lord and not live up to the commitments we have made to Him. And, by the way, we needn’t expect Him to keep sending mountain lions to keep us committed either.

Moody once met a drunk who was tottering along, barely able to walk. The drunk said, “Oh, it’s you, is it, Mr. Moody? Don’t you know me? I am one of your converts.” Moody put his arm around the man to steady him and said, “Well, my son, you look like one of mine – you’re surely not one of the Lord’s.”

Moody was merely pointing out the obvious fact that salvation should lead to godly living. The New Testament is replete with verses that teach this basic idea. It’s such a shame, then, that so many professing Christians exhibit so much unholiness in their conduct. We’re not talking about being saved by good works; we’re talking about good works inevitably flowing out of a true salvation experience.

And do we have a right to question the supposed “salvation” of someone who’s life is marked by obvious, undeniable, outward sin? Of course we do. Playing the role of fruit-inspector is not the same as playing the role of judge, jury, and executioner. Let us not forget these solemn words from Jesus:

Even so, every good tree bears good fruit, but a bad tree bears bad fruit. A good tree cannot bear bad fruit, nor can a bad tree bear good fruit. (Matthew 7:17-18)

We shouldn’t take these words to mean that the true Christian never sins. We’ll drop the ball every now and then as long as we are living out this sin-tainted existence. But there’s a big difference between dropping the ball every now and then and not even being able to find the stadium where the game is played. Do you see what I mean?

In Galatians 6:4, the apostle Paul says, “But let each one examine his own work…” In 1 Corinthians 11:28, he says, “But let a man examine himself…” In 2 Corinthians 13:5, he says, “Examine yourselves as to whether you are in the faith. Test yourselves…” You see, the life of the true Christian should always be able to bear up to examination. Again, we’re not talking sinless perfection here, just at least a reasonable amount of personal holiness that others can point to as evidence of you being a new creation in Christ. If you are “one of the Lord’s,” that evidence should be there. If it isn’t, could it be that you are a different kind of tree?