<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5393267912847680307</id><updated>2011-07-08T04:56:51.254-05:00</updated><category term='Wisdom'/><category term='spirit'/><category term='pastor&apos;s heart'/><category term='fear'/><category term='envy'/><category term='worship'/><title type='text'>Pastor Frank Speaks Up</title><subtitle type='html'>A posting of Frank's ramblings and noteworthy thoughts</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frankyazvac.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5393267912847680307/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frankyazvac.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Frank Yazvac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17692657739241742864</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IyaB9Tk8g58/SHPT3hVcllI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Qj30dlQAkjM/S220/thumbnail.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>9</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5393267912847680307.post-4037405090826961938</id><published>2009-11-18T09:28:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-18T10:04:46.828-06:00</updated><title type='text'>God Stopped Time For Me</title><content type='html'>Okay, maybe not anything quite as drastic as all that. But it felt like it for me. Some of you will read this post and think, wow, he has lost way too much sleep. We had our 2nd child at 1 am on Friday the 13th of this month. Everything went awesome. Amber didn't have to have any drugs to progress. She went into labor all on her own, which is exactly what she wanted. Asa was eating fine and we were set to go home on Sunday morning. Judah was not allowed at the hospital, so I ended up going home to be with him on Saturday night. The plan was for me to come back to the hospital and pick Amber and Asa up to go home. We were on our way to the hospital and Amber called me and told me to pray for Asa; that he had been pooping way too much and that it was a weird color and all that. Honestly, I didn't think much about it. But when we arrived at the hospital, she called back in tears and said they were going to keep him another night to monitor him and run some tests. When I got up to the room, she told me about our doctor wanting to keep him there and a few other minor things that he told us to watch for. For those of you who have children, you know how nerve-breaking this process can be. We had to wait for most of the day, prayerfully, for the tests to come back and when they did, they were all clean. We still had to spend the night in a parent room and come back to the nursery for feeding and all that. Sunday night was the Colt's game and so even though we had averaged 3 hours of sleep a night during our stay, even after half-time when the Colts looked like they were ready to give up, I decided to push on and watch the end of the game. During the last four minutes, had Amber not been asleep, she would have seen me up on my knees yelling in a whisper. And as the last fourteen seconds drained off the clock to give the Colts the win, I literally was in tears. It had been such a draining and fearful day; just a hellish twelve hours. Here there were millions of people involved in watching and producing and playing this game, yet somehow, it seemed as though God had orchestrated the whole thing just to encourage me. It felt like I was in a Bible story, except instead of the Red Sea parting or the sun stopping at midday, the Colts won a close one. Normally, I would have felt silly, but it just felt like God loved me so much that he would influence a huge game just for me. So I said all that to say this. Don't put this past God. He loves us so much, that He's willing to invest the time, effort, and supernatural into encouraging us. We just need to be looking for it. Do we go through our lives looking for God to cure cancer through our hands, when maybe His will is for us to cure a cold? Don't put these small things; these small answers to prayer past what God is capable of. Rather than chalking it up to coincidence, let's give God the credit. He deserves it no matter what. And maybe when we start to give thanks in the little things, the greater things will come to pass.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5393267912847680307-4037405090826961938?l=frankyazvac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frankyazvac.blogspot.com/feeds/4037405090826961938/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5393267912847680307&amp;postID=4037405090826961938&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5393267912847680307/posts/default/4037405090826961938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5393267912847680307/posts/default/4037405090826961938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frankyazvac.blogspot.com/2009/11/god-stopped-time-for-me.html' title='God Stopped Time For Me'/><author><name>Frank Yazvac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17692657739241742864</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IyaB9Tk8g58/SHPT3hVcllI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Qj30dlQAkjM/S220/thumbnail.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5393267912847680307.post-7394050769552089773</id><published>2009-08-04T08:46:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-04T09:07:20.131-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Daddy's Love</title><content type='html'>Here it is, already August, and the anticipation of our second child is in full scale alarm mode. Judah has been so busy this summer and its been such a joy watching him. Most of the time, my mind keeps telling me that this beautiful boy can't actually be mine, but it's almost undeniable when you know his personality. I love watching him growl at the animals at the zoo, see him eat gourmet food with the same sloppiness that he eats all the time, and checking out his dance moves when a song comes on that's his beat. I can't even understand the love that I have for him. And it's very common for fathers to link that with the love that the Father has for us. But it never feels common. It feels unique for each one of us to see that boy or girl growing. I honestly can't wait for my son to grow to where he can play cops and robbers and have shootouts in the living room and argue over who got who. Amber keeps telling me to make sure I enjoy each stage. And I am. God's love for us passes over our weaknesses and even when we hurt Him, He still enjoys our praise. He even enjoys us at our different stages in our faith. But He does not enjoy it when we get comfortable in one stage. He would almost rather we go back a few steps than just stay where we are, just so He can redeem us and make us better. It's almost time for Judah to start potty training. And I can honestly say, I hope it goes quickly. I can't see a five or six year old still getting his butt cleaned by his parents. Even though he's only a year and a half, he's so smart, if he does take a while to learn, it's just so he doesn't have to do the work. He'd rather Mommy and Daddy do the work rather than having to get on the toilet all by himself. Sometimes we'd rather have God do all the work, rather than actually working on our spiritual lives ourselves. Be careful about staying comfortable in your current stage for too long without working to be better. God has actually said to people doing the same thing," I will spew you out of my mouth". Don't be discouraged even if you fail, because God still delights in the worship of you trying again. &lt;em&gt;Blessed is the man who perseveres, for when he has finished the race, he will receive the crown of life that God has promised to those who love Him. James 1:12&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5393267912847680307-7394050769552089773?l=frankyazvac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frankyazvac.blogspot.com/feeds/7394050769552089773/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5393267912847680307&amp;postID=7394050769552089773&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5393267912847680307/posts/default/7394050769552089773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5393267912847680307/posts/default/7394050769552089773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frankyazvac.blogspot.com/2009/08/daddys-love.html' title='Daddy&apos;s Love'/><author><name>Frank Yazvac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17692657739241742864</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IyaB9Tk8g58/SHPT3hVcllI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Qj30dlQAkjM/S220/thumbnail.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5393267912847680307.post-6873788420987555636</id><published>2009-03-03T08:44:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-03T10:06:07.660-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Theology of the Bachelor</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;If you've ever been hooked onto a reality tv show, you probably already know that your emotions get invested into what goes on in that alternate world of major network television. I saw a perfect example of that this Monday and I wanted to share it with you as a nonbiased observer. My wife and I try not to let the busy schedule of kids and family knock our friends out of the picture, so we make time to hang out with a few couples. Me and these two other guys consider ourselves pretty manly men. All three of us could bend steel bars with our teeth and so on and so forth. In contrast, our wives have been meeting every Monday night to watch the Bachelor together. This was nice, even though I missed spending the evening with Amber, it was good to just hang out with Judah for a while. Somewhere in this little cycle, the men were pulled in. Or pulled under. The women decided that we were going to have a party to watch the finale all together. Man and wife. All but one of the guys was objecting to this idea (sorry, Weston), but nevertheless, it still happened. If you've never watched the Bachelor, the show takes one lonely man and throws twenty five lonely women at him. Week by week, he takes different ones out, makes out with different ones, and occasionally, gets naked with different ones(Bluh!) My wife, throughout the season, has constantly commented on how mad she would be if she were the winner of that season, only to find out by watching the show, that what this guy said to you, he said to all the other girls as well. But I digress. As the women pool gets smaller, he gets more emotionally and physically involved with all of them. He keeps saying how he's falling for all them, but as one of the guys said, how can you help not falling in love when you're riding in a helicoptor or eating oysters on the beach in thousand dollar clothes. And so the dude frolicks along, breaking hearts week by week, and spouting off nonsense about wanting to find a wife and a mother for his son. All I kept thinking was, does this guy not have any girls for friends that he can choose from? Anywho, the last week, which we were watching, he has to break a heart and make a dream come true. Then directly after the show, they have the tell-all session where they tell what happens after the finale. It just so happened that this guy had harbored feelings for the girl he let go, so on national television, he dumped his fiance' and then asked this other girl if she wanted to go and get some coffee??!!! The thing that stuck out the most to me was a comment that the dumped girl made after the fact. She said that he just did not want to fight for them. Warren Barfield has a song that says, Love is not a fight, but it's something worth fighting for. During the entire show, it was very interesting to see the different reactions of the different people in the room. Everybody had their own opinions and was very vocal about them. Even in just watching the show, a divide could be seen. In viewing this messed up worldview of love, it was interesting to think of how things could be different if they had just followed a biblical blueprint for love. Commit yourself to one another and lay down your life for one another. The reason the fight was not in this guy is that he hadn't signed up for the battle. This guy had signed up for making out with twenty five women and then having a fairy tale life together. He kept spouting out catchphrases like," it's not you, it's me". I don't think he knows how true that is. When we get married, it's much like when we come to Christ. With Christ, we lay down all our made up "rights" and say You Choose. With our spouse, we have to get the idea of our "rights" out of our head. The Bible says that your body is not your own, that your spouse has ownership in it. The fight is not about winning for your side. The fight is about the fact that you chose to risk yourself on behalf of something greater. Don't take on the theology of the bachelor or the bachelorette. Because spiritually and physically, if you walk down the path of selfishness, a bachelor is exactly what you will remain.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5393267912847680307-6873788420987555636?l=frankyazvac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frankyazvac.blogspot.com/feeds/6873788420987555636/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5393267912847680307&amp;postID=6873788420987555636&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5393267912847680307/posts/default/6873788420987555636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5393267912847680307/posts/default/6873788420987555636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frankyazvac.blogspot.com/2009/03/theology-of-bachelor.html' title='Theology of the Bachelor'/><author><name>Frank Yazvac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17692657739241742864</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IyaB9Tk8g58/SHPT3hVcllI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Qj30dlQAkjM/S220/thumbnail.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5393267912847680307.post-891579965333362772</id><published>2009-01-14T08:31:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-14T09:08:10.632-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='spirit'/><title type='text'>Daddy's Big Day</title><content type='html'>So Judah has been saying "daddy" for quite a while now. It's quite fun because he can't really say "mommy". Occasionally, when Amber will try to coax him into saying that, he'll mumble some "mmmmmmmmmm"s off, but he's not really into just saying it whenever she walks in the room. It sparks a special place in my heart everytime he looks at me and calls me by name. But I know that it also aggravates Amber. She gets kisses a lot more than me, so it kinda evens out, but is very heartwarming to hear a little boy recognize who you are.&lt;br /&gt;I think God probably feels the same way when we call on His name. And my generation is chock full of people who are very creative about calling on God's name. We remember Jesus and we remember the Lord Almighty in our songs and our prayers. But rarely do people my age remember to call on the Holy Spirit. I'm sure that this person of the Trinity would feel the same way Amber feels when Judah just babbles on without recognizing her name. The Bible tells us that the Holy Spirit would teach us how to speak and act. He would teach us how to remember the words of Jesus and how to obey them. This Helper that Jesus sent to us is being neglected by many people in their twenties and thirties and that is partly the reason why you see us falling more than anyone else. We refuse to call on the Holy Spirit because it feels too "pentecostal" or too "spiritual". WHY? God called us to be spiritual beings even while we're on this earth. One of the Holy Spirit's jobs is to aid us in transforming and changing our own lives to become more like Christ. But the problem is that we're so used to everything changing to suit us, that when it comes to changing ourselves, we'd rather not "feel" that. This world can lull us into a false sense of security and if we're not careful, we can become instantly overwhelmed with selfishness, deceit, and sin. We need to call on the Holy Spirit, asking Him to do the things that we have needed all along. Convict us. Turn us to repentance. Teach us to change. Remind us of Jesus' words. Help us to obey. Work through us with power. The Bible and history teaches us that the world will respond to power. But the Holy Spirit does not release power without releasing all of His other gifts. So get ready to change.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5393267912847680307-891579965333362772?l=frankyazvac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frankyazvac.blogspot.com/feeds/891579965333362772/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5393267912847680307&amp;postID=891579965333362772&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5393267912847680307/posts/default/891579965333362772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5393267912847680307/posts/default/891579965333362772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frankyazvac.blogspot.com/2009/01/daddys-big-day.html' title='Daddy&apos;s Big Day'/><author><name>Frank Yazvac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17692657739241742864</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IyaB9Tk8g58/SHPT3hVcllI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Qj30dlQAkjM/S220/thumbnail.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5393267912847680307.post-4108603215176804397</id><published>2008-12-09T08:45:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T08:58:45.114-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='worship'/><title type='text'>It's Been Too Long</title><content type='html'>I have really wanted to be posting over the past few months, but for some odd reason, my computer wouldn't allow me access to blogspot. I probably tried every day for the past few months, and it just said the webpage was experiencing difficulties. Weird, huh? I don't have any awesome insight for today, but I did want to testify on God's love a little. Amber and I haven't been out on a date since June. My pastor gave me yesterday afternoon off because of working over the weekend and so I thought that was a great opportunity to try and go out. Before I went home however, I went by the nursing home, as is normal on Mondays. While in the car, I had been thinking about what we could do. We still hadn't seen Fireproof, and according to everybody that I know, if you haven't seen that movie, then Jesus doesn't recognize your face, so I thought, we better see that pretty quick. Also, Amber's favorite restaurant is the Bonefish Grill. We haven't been in probably the better part of a year, so even though it is a little expensive, I decided we would go there. So I stop by the bank and head off to the nursing home. One of the ladies there, doesn't live there; she just sits with her husband every day. So at the end of my journey there, I stopped in their room and had a nice little chat with her. At the end, I prayed with her and got ready to leave. She had been giving out Christmas presents the whole time I was there to the staff at the nursing home. As I started to walk out the door, she stopped me and gave me a twenty dollar bill and told me to take my wife out somewhere. Well, I couldn't just walk out without telling her about my plans and it really ministered to my heart. So I told her and we just had a moment of praising God. I got out to my car and thought, you know Lord, even in the very smallest of things, you still take care of me. We went out and had a great time. Had some Bang Bang Shrimp at the Bonefish and went to see Fireproof. It made me cry a couple of times. Thank you Lord for the small things.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5393267912847680307-4108603215176804397?l=frankyazvac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frankyazvac.blogspot.com/feeds/4108603215176804397/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5393267912847680307&amp;postID=4108603215176804397&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5393267912847680307/posts/default/4108603215176804397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5393267912847680307/posts/default/4108603215176804397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frankyazvac.blogspot.com/2008/12/its-been-too-long.html' title='It&apos;s Been Too Long'/><author><name>Frank Yazvac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17692657739241742864</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IyaB9Tk8g58/SHPT3hVcllI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Qj30dlQAkjM/S220/thumbnail.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5393267912847680307.post-7217478371241517520</id><published>2008-08-12T08:20:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-12T09:19:31.411-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Wisdom'/><title type='text'>Whaaaaaaah! I'm Not Old Enough.</title><content type='html'>I remember as I was growing up, my life seemed to hinge on those moments of age where something special happened. I remember when I got old enough to ride roller coasters and I remember when I turned into a teenager. I thought for sure those moments would change my life. I remember waiting for sixteen so I could drive. The magic number was eighteen, cause everybody knew when you turned eighteen, you could do whatever you wanted. I spent a lot of time reminding my parents of that same fact. The last milestone I've reached is twenty one. The best thing I could do at that age was get drunk, but since I've been in some form of ministry since I was fourteen, drinking didn't have much appeal. I'm now searching for my next magic number and I can't seem to find it. The closest would be twenty five, when my car insurance will supposedly go down. After that comes thirty, but that's so far away, I can't even think about it. I've never really felt old, but I certainly don't feel young. I guess that's what comes with having a career, a wife, a house, and a baby, in that order. Not feeling young. Still, I guess I probably seem pretty young to most people over thirty. I've always believed however, that wisdom does not come with age, it comes with searching. God honors those who search, not just those who age. It's up to us to honor those who age. We certainly have that responsibility. I grew up with a few older people in my life who thought that age was a badge of wisdom. Any chance they got, they would feel compelled to impart some tidbits of "reality". I only remember thinking that if they were so wise, why wouldn't anyone else listen to them? Instead, it seemed that people were trying to avoid them. Odd. There are a few older men, including my father and my pastor, on whom I would trust to have wisdom. Why? Experience. Like wisdom, just because you have age doesn't mean you have experience. There are some older and younger people I know who have never done anything with their lives. If you apply for a job and say, " I'm fifty years old!", you're much less likely to get it than if you say," I've had twenty other jobs like this one!". Make it a point when you're seeking wisdom to not lay low and expect wisdom to guide you out into the world. Wisdom comes up under you when you begin to get started, much like a swim instructor will hold you up. But you still had to jump into the pool first. If you're still waiting for those magic moments that come with age when you're a child, just remember this. We cause most of those moments to happen. Young people and old people, I have one simple instruction. Know yourself. Have a good understanding of what you do know and what you don't know. And don't try to make up what you don't know. Because old people, young people are paying attention to you. They're waiting for your opinion, so don't let it be a bad one. And young people, do not let your youth keep you from taking hold of the wisdom you know to be there. Funny, that sounds familiar.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5393267912847680307-7217478371241517520?l=frankyazvac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frankyazvac.blogspot.com/feeds/7217478371241517520/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5393267912847680307&amp;postID=7217478371241517520&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5393267912847680307/posts/default/7217478371241517520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5393267912847680307/posts/default/7217478371241517520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frankyazvac.blogspot.com/2008/08/whaaaaaaah-im-not-old-enough.html' title='Whaaaaaaah! I&apos;m Not Old Enough.'/><author><name>Frank Yazvac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17692657739241742864</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IyaB9Tk8g58/SHPT3hVcllI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Qj30dlQAkjM/S220/thumbnail.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5393267912847680307.post-3268786921578364280</id><published>2008-07-21T10:58:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-22T08:28:06.232-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pastor&apos;s heart'/><title type='text'>Unseen Glory</title><content type='html'>Once, while on a trip to College Days in Springfield, Missouri, all the seniors were watching a tape that the youth pastor had brought along. It was a tape of a powerful church service. God's presence was being known in way that most people don't even dream of. No one in the sanctuary could stand up for more than a few seconds. The leader of the service was being held up by ushers grasping his arms on either side. For some reason, God's influence was on this man, so that as he stretched out his hand, no one in the path of his fingers could stand. He stood in the center of huge crowd, and wherever he pointed, the whole section of that crowd fell back and began praising. It was a powerful sight. I remember wondering why that particular church was experiencing the influence of God's presence in that way. I say the "influence of God's presence" in contrast to some people that would just say, "God's presence". "Manifest" is another great word used to describe this kind of experience. I think pastors all over this country, whether they are pentecostal or not, are looking, maybe even subconsciously, for this presence. Why is this presence restrained from entering my church? Why are my doors barring the Spirit? Why are my people not ready for this kind of encounter? These are questions that a lot of pastors have on their hearts.And I certainly do not have an inspired prophetic answer.But I noticed a verse this week that reminded me of a specific truth. The verse talked about His people obeying His commands. It didn't say that then we would see the glory of the Lord. It said then we would have knowledge of the glory of the Lord. God's glory/presence is all around us. We must seek the wisdom to be able to see it and know it. I believe too many times we pass right by the presence and excuse it as "special expressions". Or maybe we see the manifest presence in operation and it shocks us so much that we can't do anything but stare, like at some rare monkey from Tanzania. Then right after that, we see a tradition being exercised and we grab at that, saying, "Here it is, I found the manifest presence!" But traditions kill the presence, they don't create it. God is expecting(not waiting) for the people, as a whole, to get just a little bit of fire in their systems. Now is the part where I could launch into a 3 point recipe for "fire" in our people. But the bottom line is that people simply have to be hungry for it themselves. Pastors, I know that's tough, being as we're all super dooper communicators, but there's nothing that we can do to communicate this fire if they don't want to seek it for themselves. Inspiration is a powerful tool here. If we show them a little of what God can do, and what a joy the experience can be, they might just begin to yearn for it also. I think John Wesley had it right. &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffff;"&gt;“&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a class="sqq" href="http://thinkexist.com/quotation/catch_on_fire_with_enthusiasm_and_people_will/212431.html"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffff;"&gt;Catch on fire with enthusiasm and people will come for miles to watch you burn.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffff;"&gt;”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;If only we could inspire all our people to do the same thing.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5393267912847680307-3268786921578364280?l=frankyazvac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frankyazvac.blogspot.com/feeds/3268786921578364280/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5393267912847680307&amp;postID=3268786921578364280&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5393267912847680307/posts/default/3268786921578364280'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5393267912847680307/posts/default/3268786921578364280'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frankyazvac.blogspot.com/2008/07/unseen-glory.html' title='Unseen Glory'/><author><name>Frank Yazvac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17692657739241742864</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IyaB9Tk8g58/SHPT3hVcllI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Qj30dlQAkjM/S220/thumbnail.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5393267912847680307.post-641955239827962970</id><published>2008-07-11T10:08:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-14T08:46:42.664-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fear'/><title type='text'>A Giant Hawk</title><content type='html'>So there I was, sitting in my own office, just having got back from a visit to the nursing home, thinking it was going to be a nice, quiet Friday. Then the phone call came. "A giant hawk came swooping out of nowhere and shattered the windshield to the van," gasped one our mom's here at the church. It kind of sounded like a lie that an eight year old would tell to get out of being punished for breaking a window with a baseball. But these ladies did not have a history of making up fantastical stories just to get attention, so I chose to believe them(after a few moments of freaking out). These ladies were on their way to go pick up the kids from kid's camp in Kentucky. Therefore, the following hours screamed by like an out of control freight train. I must have taken at least fifty phone calls in under ninety minutes. I ended up leaving the office and borrowing another van from a nearby church. It seemed as if everybody and their mother was working on a way to make this alright. But the simple truth is that no one can be prepared for this kind of scenario. Dave Ramsey does not have a Giant Hawk Crashing Through The Church Van Window fund. As Joseph walked out into the desert, a couple thousand years ago, there's no way he could have thought, "hey I better be cautious, my brothers might throw me in a pit and sell me into slavery." But God, in such a way that only He would think of it, brings good out of Hawk-Crashing situations. As I was driving, about thirty miles out of Evansville, Chad called me and told me that someone from close to the campground had volunteered to drive all the kids back to Mount Vernon. This person chose to drive three hours one way and three hours back(with 4 dollar a gallon gas, by the way). They saw an opportunity to serve in a unusual way and they jumped on it. Even though Joseph was betrayed in an unthinkable way, he chose to serve. In America, our mindset is certainly not a servant's thinking. We have been trained, by most avenues and by our nature itself, to be selfish. Even those of us who think we might know just a little about a servant's heart, still find ourselves making selfish decisions. When Hawk-Crashing situations come around, we often find ourselves bringing in the livestock, getting ready to weather the storm, and sometimes, others are trampled in the process. If our emotions, our personality, and our courage all run for cover, then what shows through is the worst of our emotions, the downside of our personality, and fear. It's like when a small child hides their face and expects that no one can see them. We are still seen, but not the parts that God wants us to show. Servants essentially bare themselves to the elements and watch the fear be washed off by the rain. In times of storm, let the thunder shake the foundations of your fear and let the lightening strike down selfishness. If you can find the heart to think of what others need, when you are in need yourself, God will not fail to honor you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. everybody is alright and back in Mount Vernon...&lt;br /&gt;except the van which is still getting fixed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5393267912847680307-641955239827962970?l=frankyazvac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frankyazvac.blogspot.com/feeds/641955239827962970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5393267912847680307&amp;postID=641955239827962970&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5393267912847680307/posts/default/641955239827962970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5393267912847680307/posts/default/641955239827962970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frankyazvac.blogspot.com/2008/07/giant-hawk.html' title='A Giant Hawk'/><author><name>Frank Yazvac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17692657739241742864</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IyaB9Tk8g58/SHPT3hVcllI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Qj30dlQAkjM/S220/thumbnail.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5393267912847680307.post-1732268945898274784</id><published>2008-07-08T15:24:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-08T15:48:00.519-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='envy'/><title type='text'>First Time</title><content type='html'>" And so, we shall go to war!"-&lt;em&gt;from Pirates of the Caribbean 3&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So far, this year has been a year for firsts. We had our first baby in February. My brother is getting married in August and I will be doing the wedding(my first one). And this is my very first post on my very first blog. I am so excited, I might just buy a go-kart, just so I can say that it's my first time to buy a go-kart. The main reason I am writing on a blog, is that I want to increase my influence in this world. Now I realize that no celebrities are going to be signing and reading my posts week after week(except maybe John Stamos). But you are, and that's a start. Curiously, last night my wife picked a book on envy to read from for our devotions. I don't think she was trying to send me any messages, but God sure was. The words coming off the pages made me understand that first of all, I have a problem with envy. I envy the people that have the kind of influence that shapes the minds of this country. Whether a Christian or Muslim or just political influence, our country is in the mood to be convinced. I see several friends of mine, who on the outside I would rejoice with, but on the inside, I would ask why I didn't get that specific opportunity. My envy is part of what's holding me back from influencing the people right here in my city, and for that, I am ashamed. Secondly, I realized that envy is a problem that most people probably do not consider themselves to have. So many times, we use the word ambition to justify why we have to hit that next home run or close that next huge deal. But we see the world around us hitting more home runs and closing even bigger deals and our eyes are widened by the unfairness of it all. I have two responses to what I have just written. The first I just learned from an episode of Full House. No matter how good you are at something, chances are, somebody's always gonna come around that just a little better than you. And secondly, I know that some would argue that God wants us to do the most in this world for Him that we possibly can. I would respond with this story. Once upon a time, there were two preachers. One had a congregation of 50 and the other, 50,000. They both died and went to heaven. Jesus took them himself to show them their "mansions"(if you believe the old time pentecostal version of heaven). The preacher of the smaller church was led up to a huge building with a giant fountain out front. Jesus told him to go inside, that he had done well. He led the preacher of the larger church to an old shanty. The preacher was outraged(if you believe we can be outraged in heaven). He ranted, saying," The first preacher only reached 50 and I reached 50,000. How can You give me a place like this, while he is down the road in a mansion." Jesus replied," Because he was meant to reach 50, and you were meant to reach a million." Do not become envious if God has placed you where you can only reach a few, because His purpose is being carried out, as long as you are living your best. 50 or and million, we are all called to greatness.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5393267912847680307-1732268945898274784?l=frankyazvac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frankyazvac.blogspot.com/feeds/1732268945898274784/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5393267912847680307&amp;postID=1732268945898274784&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5393267912847680307/posts/default/1732268945898274784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5393267912847680307/posts/default/1732268945898274784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frankyazvac.blogspot.com/2008/07/first-time.html' title='First Time'/><author><name>Frank Yazvac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17692657739241742864</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IyaB9Tk8g58/SHPT3hVcllI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Qj30dlQAkjM/S220/thumbnail.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry></feed>
