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Crash the Chatterbox: Hearing God's Voice Above All Others - Softcover

Furtick, Steven

 
9781601424570: Crash the Chatterbox: Hearing God's Voice Above All Others
Softcover
ISBN 10: 1601424574 ISBN 13: 9781601424570
Verlag: PRH Christian Publishing, 2015

Inhaltsangabe

NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER • Crashing the chatterbox = Overpowering the lies of insecurity, fear, condemnation, and discouragement with the promises of God.
 
“These four confessions will free you to embrace the life God has called you to live.”—Andy Stanley, senior pastor, North Point Church; author of Enemies of the Heart 
 
In Crash the Chatterbox, Pastor Steven Furtick focuses on four key areas in which negative thoughts are most debilitating: insecurity, fear, condemnation, and discouragement. He asks, “What great deeds are in danger of remaining undone in your life because of lies that were planted in your past or fears that are looming in your future?”
 
With personal stories, inspiring examples, and practical strategies, Pastor Furtick will show you how to silence the lies and embrace the freeing affirmation of God. 
 
Learn how to live out God’s truth no matter what is going on in your life or thoughts. 
 
Learn how to crash the chatterbox . . . and hear God’s voice above all others.

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Steven Furtick is the New York Times best-selling author of Greater and Sun Stand Still. He is also the founder and lead pastor of Elevation Church, which since its founding in 2006 has grown to more than 13,000 attendees at nine locations. He holds a master of divinity degree from Southern Baptist Theological Seminary. He and his wife, Holly, have three young children.

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Introduction
Chatterboxing

I wish I had a little devil on my left shoulder. I could flick him off and tell him to go to hell. Then I could fist-bump the angel sitting on my right shoulder and get on with doing all the things God has called me to do. That would change everything.

I’d discover an unshakable confidence. It wouldn’t be borrowed from the ever-changing assessments of others. I would instinctively offer my weaknesses as a platform for God’s power instead of typecasting myself as someone God
couldn’t use due to my endless character flaws.

I’d be unstoppable because the devil wouldn’t be able to dominate my mind with the kinds of fears that control me a lot of the time. Then I would be able to move forward in faith without being scared of failure or rejection or the sacrifice required to obey God.

I’d never again be paralyzed by condemnation or bullied by feelings of unworthiness. And at the end of each day I’d go to sleep in perfect peace because I’d be finishing the day with no shame, no regrets, no need to sew any fig leaves to conceal anything.

I’d be nearly immune from discouragement, because I would stop wondering if the sky was falling every time I faced a new challenge. I’d see my biggest obstacles as my greatest opportunities…and all the other stuff you read on Starbucks cups.

Unfortunately, there’s no devil on my shoulder.

What’s worse, there’s no angel either.

Instead, I’ve got this ceaseless war going on inside my heart and my head. I’m waging it every millisecond of every minute of every hour of every day—nights, holidays, and weekends too.

####

I wake up every day to the crow of the chatterbox.

Here’s a transcript of my internal dialogue from a recent morning. It’s a real-time example of the kind of chatter that can derail my day before it even gets started. Sometimes over the most ridiculous things you can imagine.

The thoughts are flying so fast now that I can’t keep track, much less sort them out and put them where they belong. Thinking about these thoughts at all only seems to feed them. That’s why they keep overpowering me, because I keep feeding them. I know this, but it never stops me from doing it. Not this time, not ten years ago, and it won’t be any different ten years from now, I’m beginning to believe.

This is so stupid. I’m being so stupid.

It’s only a light bulb.

A burned-out light bulb has turned into a mini-midmorning meltdown in my mind, and I can’t find the switch to shut it off. The meltdown, I mean, not the light bulb.

So I’m standing in the shower, and the light bulb is out, and it’s like the sky is falling.

As soon as I stepped into the shower, I noticed, for the third time, that the middle bulb was out over the sink on the other side of the bathroom. Now that I’m in the shower, stranded, phoneless, how am I going to put in Evernote that the light bulb is out? With my pathetic attention span, what are the chances I’ll remember to replace the light bulb after I get out?

I definitely don’t have time to change the light bulb—I’m already going to be ten minutes late for this meeting. If there’s no traffic. I’m always running late for meetings. I’m a late person. It’s because I hit the snooze button three times every morning, because I’m spiritually apathetic. Pastor Mickey used to get up at 5 a.m. and spend two hours with God, and he said, “He who runs from God in the morning will scarce find Him throughout the day.” They should put that on a Starbucks cup too.

Either way, God is gone for the day, and it’s not even 9 a.m. And now I’m running twelve minutes late, and the light bulb is still out.

I’m screwed.

And who am I kidding? Even if I had time to change the light bulb, yeah, right, like I have a clue where Holly keeps them. Now that’s really pathetic. What would people think if they found out about that one: the woman changes all the light bulbs around that house! What kind of example am I setting for my kids?

Did I even pray with the kids last night? the night before that?

Dunno. But I did Instagram that sunset shot with the kids at the creek last Friday. So there’s that.

“Cock-a-doodle-do.” The chatterbox informs me that I’m fourteen minutes late…and I suck as a person.

I’m feeding the machine, and it’s eating me alive.

And the chatter will continue to race through my mind until I decide to downshift and put things back in perspective: Calm down, Furtick. It’s. Just. A. Light bulb.

Just like that, if only for a split second, the chatterbox gives way. And I get on with my day.

Unfortunately, it won’t be long until the chatterbox sounds off again. Probably next time about something much more serious than a light bulb. So much doubt, panic, raw impulse, and bogus conjecture stream through my mind. My
soul sometimes feels like a Twitter feed where I’m following a million of the most annoying people ever, and I can’t find the Unfollow button.

####

But God is faithful to speak too. His voice rises from the pages of His Word, which is the exact expression of His will. He speaks, not only on Sunday mornings in the sanctuary where the congregation is gathered, but also in the stillness
of His works scattered across the night skies. His Spirit speaks with promptings that are not audible—often they are much louder than that—always in perfect harmony with the Scriptures and always resounding with perfect wisdom.

And in every season of my life, God has sent reminders to confirm that He has perfectly designed me and totally enabled me for everything He’s called me to do. Sometimes He’ll do that through a simple picture, song, text, or conversation that rings with affirmation for days.

Other times, at critical junctures, God has spoken dramatic words of encouragement over my life.

A few years ago I was on a plane headed home, and I looked out the window during the descent. The sunset seemed to be painting the skyline in neon orange, illuminating the city where I had just moved to start a church. It was a glowing visual that set the scene for God to speak to my heart: This is your city. I’ve called you here to pour out your life for My cause. Be confident, because everywhere you set your foot belongs to Me, and you belong to Me, and together we’re going to take this city for My glory.

I’m sure my translation of this conversation isn’t word perfect, because you know how tricky cross-cultural communication with God can be. Plus, I can’t find the notebook where I frantically scribbled every word of those impressions. The part I’m sure of is that I heard God encouraging me at a time when I really needed it. We were only a couple of months into getting our new church off the ground. I needed some reassurance, and God delivered.

And it was His voice piercing through the roar of my doubts that lifted my perspective. It was just enough to keep me moving forward in faith.

####

Now I’d like to ask you a few questions.

Is it possible to be the kind of person who can be distracted to the point of utter despair by a blown light bulb and still hear God calling you to do great things as you stare down at your city through a sunset?

Can God’s voice coexist with maniacal chatter—within the same person?

And how can I silence the voice of the enemy when the enemy is in me? Can you relate to this contradiction?

I used to think that...

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Verlag
PRH Christian Publishing
Erscheinungsdatum
2015
Sprache
Englisch
ISBN 10 
1601424574
ISBN 13 
9781601424570
Einband
Taschenbuch
Anzahl der Seiten
240
Kontakt zum Hersteller
Nicht verfügbar
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