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5 Undeniable, Surprising Ways Christianity Improves Your Life

Feeling a little meaningless right now and want to get in touch with your “spiritual side”? Tried Buddhism, meditation, and everything short of hiking to Tibet? Well, the best answer may be a lot closer than you ever dreamed, within quite familiar wrapping paper…

It’s Christianity. And it works better than any of the other things you’ve tried. Seriously.

We’re living in a time when it’s deemed polite to view everyone’s opinions and ideas as being of equal value. This sounds like fair play. The only problem is, all opinions aren’t equal.

Some ideas don’t work. Some values are deficient. Others positively stink.

When it comes to religion, “one size does NOT fit all”.

Religions are one area where we’re supposed to pretend every belief is just as valuable as the other. And I am in full agreement we should accept and love people regardless of their beliefs.

However…

Beliefs affect your life, if you truly live by them. Sometimes those effects can be positive, and others negative. And while it’s true HOW you practice your belief system may determine your results, you can never overcome a fallacious belief no matter how hard you try to work it.

As a belief system, Christianity, when practiced correctly, improves your life…dramatically. No other religion has had the power to heal the broken and reform the crooked like this one faith. Sure, there are positive testimonials from other faiths, but nothing like the measurable effects you find from a life that intersects the humble rabbi from Nazareth.

I know this sounds a bit like a schoolyard boy yelling, “My daddy’s stronger than your daddy!” But all religions are not the same. With a few minor ethical similarities, each major world religion teaches a different path to God. No amount of wishful thinking or political correctness will change that fact.

So as an admittedly biased observer, here are five reasons embracing Christianity will improve your life…

#1 – Christianity offers you a God who’s personally invested in your well-being, and gives you continual access to His comfort.

Prayer is one of the great pleasures of my life. When I pray, my focus moves from my current problems and I see life in it’s proper perspective – from God’s overview.

But it’s not just me. The stats on the positive effects of prayer on your life are undeniable. Dr. Andrew Newberg, director of the Center for Spirituality and the Mind at the University of Pennsylvania, studied Tibetan monks and Franciscan nuns and found measurable positive results, both physical and psychological (http://www.huffingtonpost.com/richard-schiffman/why-people-who-pray-are-heathier_b_1197313.html).

Sure, you say, but the effects were positive regardless of which group prayed, right?  Yes, if you believe the only results are that the person praying has basically fooled himself into being peaceful, and that there’s no supernatural benefit beyond what’s measurable through heart rate and brain activity. But if the Christian assumption is true, you’re not only “submitting yourself to the universe”, you’re actually making contact with a higher being whose wisdom and help can improve your life.

It’s really rather patronizing the way we look at religious people. We say, “Well, If believing in an all-powerful daddy in the sky is making you happy, good for you – have fun with that!”

However, the difference in what Christianity believes is that instead of praying into a benign, uncaring “universe”, the Christian prays to a very real, personal Being. Not so much for those who are just “spiritual but not religious”. 

I’ve told my friends who are into meditation, “You’re praying to the universe, but the universe doesn’t know your name, and doesn’t care about your life. The universe will be just fine without you.”

On the other hand, the Father that Christians worship knows you, loves you, and wants to help you. Sorry, but I’ll take that over a cold, dark, uncaring universe any day!

#2 – Christianity helps you understand life is not “all about you”.

Though Christianity has often been infamous for those who’ve practiced it badly (just Google the term “TV evangelist” and “scandal” and try to read all the results), it’s actually been a major force for good in the world. One of the best things Christianity teaches you is to get over yourself and care for the needs of others.

More to the point, the heart of Christianity is, “It’s not about you.” It’s about God and others.

A Christian worldview bumps up against our default perception that life is meant to be an “all-you-can-eat buffet” for me alone. Most of our ideals of tolerance and caring for other people’s needs come chiefly from the Christian idea of “charity”. The Bible was one of the first books of antiquity to see women not as property and having equal value to men (Gal 3:28). Most of our hospitals and aid societies world-round started off as Christian ministries…heck, even our great schools like Oxford, Harvard, and Yale.

Even some atheists, when backed into the corner, grudgingly acknowledge these facts. Matthew Parris writing his London Times OpEd on the overwhelming needs of rural Africa admits that, “As an atheist, I truly believe Africa needs God” (http://www.thetimes.co.uk/tto/opinion/columnists/matthewparris/article2044345.ece). Evidently, he realized only a stubborn missionary with a Godly zeal is going to put up with the hardships inherent in helping people in such dire conditions. Celebrities may drop in for a day to get a photo shoot with a starving kid, but Christianity missionaries are the ones willing to actual live under the same conditions as the impoverished people they serve.

So yeah, come to Jesus and He will save you. But then, He’ll turn you around and point you to the rest of the world so you can join Him in saving them too.

#3 – Christianity gives you boundaries that improve health and mental outlook

None of us like rules, and the rules of Christianity are what have often received the worst press. And it’s true that a life lived only focusing on what “I’m not supposed to do” is one that will soon become a drudgery. Christians who obsess over Biblical rules become self-righteous and judgmental of others. Their pride destroys their joy, and they end up pushing people away from God instead of drawing them to Him.

However, a life lived with respect to Christian boundaries coupled with the grace God offers when we fall short is a recipe for a well-balanced life. Biblical ethics keep honesty and personal integrity at the forefront of our minds as we relate to others. The admonishments to avoid substance abuse and sexual license keep us from destroying relationships, and from causing harm to ourselves and loved ones alike.

Bottom line: a life lived by Christian rules minimizes the collateral damage you cause. A loving, monogamous couple raising children taught to respect each other is a family unit where each member can reach their fullest potential. These families also make for good, helpful neighbors. Most of the residue that comes from a life without boundaries is missing from a committed Christian family.

True, nobody’s perfect, and people will always fall short of the rules (the recent Duggar scandal comes to mind). What most people do instead is try to convince themselves the rules don’t exist, and then attempt to assuage their guilt. But when you’ve screwed up, Christianity offers that “amazing grace” where God says, “I know you screwed up, but I still love you, you’re still valuable, and now I’ll help you fix it”.

Seriously, can you think of a better deal than that?

#4 – Christianity gives you a reason for the evil in the world

One of the misunderstanding my atheist friends have about Christianity has to do with evil. They see all the evil in the world as proof God doesn’t exist. This is actually quite ironic, since the Bible says God hates evil and the pain it causes more than we can imagine.

In that one area, God and the atheist are actually in agreement.

So why doesn’t God stop evil? Well, if you really seek to understand Christianity, you’ll find the whole premise is that God created a perfect world (the Eden story in Genesis) but that man brought evil into it by disobeying Him. When we do wrong, the Bible says the natural consequence is destruction. Sin brings death and separation from God (Romans 3:23, 6:23), and our rejecting God and choosing our own way is what sends the world spinning into chaos.

God created the world, so He knows better than anyone how it works. It was made to work by His rules, but it falls apart when we ignore those rules and do things our own way. So when we choose evil over good and selfishness over kindness, we encourage that destruction even further.

So it’s the height of irony that the existence of evil is used to prove God doesn’t exist. Evil is present basically because we have a choice to reject God. God knows that without that choice, we can not truly love Him. For example, if you forced your wife at gun point to marry you, she may agree but you can’t say she truly loves you.

For love to exist, we must be able to choose not to love and to reject love’s advances.

God could have made my atheist friends happy and guaranteed evil would never happen. Only problem is, He would have had to take away their free will…which would mean they wouldn’t be able to choose NOT to believe…which would make them brain-washed robots. I don’t know many people willing to make that exchange.

So God gives us the freedom we want, which in turn allows us to say He’s not there: the very definition of irony.

At the end of time, God will indeed put everything right and “wipe every tear from our eyes” (Rev 21:4). Until then, we pray and trust Him to lead our lives, knowing one day there will be no more pain, no more death, and every wrong will be righted by the only impartial, righteous Judge.

#5 – Christianity says, “Don’t worry, everything’s gonna be alright”.

And it’s that “happy ending” Christianity promises which answers the most disturbingly existential question every thinking person who’s every taken a breath has asked:

“What happens when I die?”

Christianity’s answer is one of forgiveness and reconciliation, and entrance into God’s eternal home in heaven. And that heaven is not the one of clouds and disembodied spirits we’ve come to imagine – no, that picture is more from Plato than Scripture. The Bible’s heaven is one of a great city filled with life and light, with God Himself smack dab in the middle of it enjoying it all.

I know what many of you are thinking. You’re saying, “Well, I’m probably good enough to get there, I hope.”  Sorry, but that’s not the message of the Bible, and when you think of it, it doesn’t make sense for us to get to heaven under our own power.

First, heaven is not our home, it’s God’s. Seriously, you wouldn’t show up on my front porch tonight and expect for me to let you live in my home, would you? What in the world would give you the right to stay with me?

“I think I should be able to live here because I’m a good person, Dave!”

Well, “good” by whose standards? If it’s my house, I get to decide who can stay and who can’t. You see, we have a very specific way of doing things that keeps the house peaceful, so not just anyone fits in there.

And if it’s God’s house, His standards are perfect holiness, because heaven is a perfect place. Nothing evil is allowed in to destroy that peace. So by his standards, neither you nor I can enter. We’re too messed up on our own. So no, you have no right to live in my home…anymore than you have a right to live in God’s home, heaven.

“Is there any circumstances under which you’d let me stay at your house, Dave?”

I’ll tell you, there is one loophole where several people have gotten in. It’s my heart. There have been children who needed a father, and their plight has touched me deeply. We’ve now adopted 3 children that way, and are in the works of adopting another soon.

But they had done nothing to deserve this adoption – I adopted them strictly because of my love and pity for them. And now Im raising them up in my ways so that they’ll fit in with how we live in my house. Day by day, they’re becoming more like my wife and me. Now they can come and go as they like, and have the same rights as our biological child. They are part of the family, so my house is their house.

It works the same with God.

If you want into His house, ask Him to forgive your sins and adopt you into His family. He will then take you on as His very own child, and start “raising” you up as his son or daughter. Daily you’ll become more and more like your Father, so you’ll fit in His heavenly house. You’ll have the same rights and privileges as your brother Jesus, who paid your original debt for all you’d done wrong.

That’s how you get to heaven, according to Christianity. Not goodness, not rules – just good old fashioned mercy and grace.

So my friend, I’d encourage you to take a good long look at Christianity. Based on the facts alone, it would only make things better for you. All you’d lose is a bunch of fear, guilt, and purposelessness.

If you’re anything like me, I’d be happy trade those in for a little mercy and grace any day ;0)

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Our dream house was a 120-year old 3-story Victorian home. It was just a few blocks away from one of the loveliest parks in the city and the same distance from the church I pastored. I could literally walk to work, and did so on many mornings. How convenient!

Unlike the other brick houses that lined the streets nearby, this one was painted light yellow and stood apart from the rest. Plaster reliefs of baby angels wrapped around the base of the house. They represented the children of the original owners, making the structure even more unique. It also had a three-car garage at the back of it. Few houses in this older section of town had one as large, and many people resorted to parking on the street. But not us! On just an average salary, we had bought one of the nicest places to live in the area. 

I had always dreamed of owning a Victorian home. I had performed the role of Prof. Henry Higgins from the musical My Fair Lady right before we moved to our new city. So I was primed to live the life of the English gentleman, sipping tea in my beautiful old house. I loved the old wood, the stained glass windows, and our “penthouse suite” for my wife and me on the top floor. We’d be sequestered away from the noise of our little girls playing below us. It all seemed so ideal.

But it turned out to be anything but ideal. Our “Golden House”, as our little girls came to call it, was not so golden. In fact, our dream house almost killed us, quite literally. 

One afternoon I got a call at the church. It was Dawn, my wife, and she was sobbing hysterically. Finally I was able to make out enough of her words to understand what was happening.

“I fell…come home!”

Almost 20 years ago, my wife had been in a bad car accident that crushed her right leg. That ankle couldn’t turn at all. So as I ran the 5 blocks to my home, I knew what had happened.

When I got to the house, I found Dawn in the basement. She was headed to the washer and drier there, and had misjudged a step going down. She hit the concrete floor hard.

After getting her to the hospital, thankfully we learned nothing had been broken. However, that would be just the first of several falls for Dawn down those steps. We eventually moved the washer and drier up to the second floor, which helped a little. But the bottom line was a three-story house with narrow stairways were not meant for a woman who had challenges with mobility.

I also learned having your bedroom on the third-floor is not a good idea for a chubby guy in his mid-50s. There were a few days I wondered if I’d still be alive by the time I reached the top floor. Though I began on the stairway to the bedroom, I might end up on the stairway to heaven…

Then there was the city. Dawn and I always loved culture, restaurants, theater and all the things a great city has to offer. So living there, we felt like kids in a candy store. There was always some new restaurant to explore, always a show playing somewhere, and interesting people living all around us. It seemed ideal.

Except for crime. And taxes. Many cities are big on those, and ours was no exception. We had both in abundance.

One of our regular nightly diversions was watching the notifications on our community’s “Next Door App” alert us to all the recent shootings and hold-ups around us. One of us would hear gunshots, and I’d watch for the posts to pop up. I’d then calculate how close it was to our home. Many were within just a few blocks, some just down the street. 

We would occasionally get notices of some tax we hadn’t paid. Usually, we neglected to pay because the city had neglected to ever send a bill. Then one day, you get a notice you’re being sent to a collections agency, even though you still hadn’t received a bill yourself. 

Once we got a bill for trash pick-up. We were confused because we paid a refuse bill on time every month. But a lady on the phone informed us what we had paid was in fact only the garbage bill. There was completely different bill that was a tax for just having trash pick up available to us in the city. This bill was paying for the “possibility” our trash might be picked up. No kidding.

I’m sure they’re still probably working on a way to collect a tax on our taxes. 

All of this added together was a painful lesson on the difference between perception and reality. After we first moved to that city and were still living in an apartment, I walked down those very streets and fantasized about how wonderful living there would be. When we found the Golden House, we rejoiced and basically cried out, “Here, take our money” to the realtor. 

But the view from the outside of a situation is always much different from the inside. Nothing is ever quite what you expect…with houses, or with life.

The problem with so many of the things we want is it’s too often based on an illusion. We think a thing, a person, or a situation will bring happiness. But happiness is never found in those things outside of us.

Real happiness only happens from the inside out.

There’s an old fashioned Bible word for this foolishness: covetousness. The prohibition against coveting is actually the 10th and final commandment. It’s easily skimmed over in favor of the more R-rated commandments against murder or adultery. Simply wanting your neighbors stuff as opposed to stealing it or killing for it seems like no big deal in comparison.

But coveting is like a powerful drug. The addict never gets enough. Once he gets that one thing he’s obsessed over, he’s disappointed to realize it doesn’t fulfill his needs and he moves on to something more. The new car he’d wanted all his life now sits in the garage most days. She can’t even remember why she bought that purse now. That’s how coveting works: whatever you get, it’s never enough. You’re always left wanting something else, and even more addicted to your desires.

Whatever my eyes desired I did not keep from them. I did not withhold my heart from any pleasure, for my heart rejoiced in all my labor; And this was my reward from all my labor. Then I looked on all the works that my hands had done and on the labor in which I had toiled; And indeed all was vanity and grasping for the wind. There was no profit under the sun. - Ecclesiastes 2:10-11

Take care, and be on your guard against all covetousness, for one's life does not consist in the abundance of his possessions. - Luke 12:15

There was nothing wrong with us wanting a house. But it was very wrong of me to think that it would bring us so much happiness on its own. The ideal life and fulfillment I was expecting from a house was unreasonable. 

That kind of happiness only comes from God’s address, not mine.

Inevitably, we become like kids on the day after Christmas. We’ve opened every package, played with every toy, and we’re already bored with them. The newness wore off in a day, all because we were expecting too much from them to begin with.

Most homes stop being dream houses the minute we walk into them. Reality inevitably sets in, and the “house porn” on the realtor’s website is now just a bunch of plaster and dry wall. 

We finally made it out of our dream house before it killed us. No, we didn't run screaming from it in the middle of the night like in the Shining or the Amityville Horror. When we left, it did take quite a bite out of our finances, and we had to sell for quite a bit less than we'd paid. But the wound was worth it for the lesson we learned.

We’re in a new place now, in a much smaller city. We’re renting a little one-story house we’re hoping to buy soon. We're in a little neighborhood where we hardly ever lock our front door. It's pretty boring compared to city life, but that’s just fine with me.

I’ve discovered what really makes a “dream house”. The dream is not the house, it’s the people you put in it. Regardless of the size or location, those people are what makes life worthwhile. 

Everything else is just a dream. And all that glitters is not a golden house.

Our dream house was a 120-year old 3-story Victorian home. It was just a few blocks away from one of the loveliest parks in the city and the same distance from the church I pastored. I could literally walk to work, and did so on many mornings. How convenient!

Unlike the other brick houses that lined the streets nearby, this one was painted light yellow and stood apart from the rest. Plaster reliefs of baby angels wrapped around the base of the house. They represented the children of the original owners, making the structure even more unique. It also had a three-car garage at the back of it. Few houses in this older section of town had one as large, and many people resorted to parking on the street. But not us! On just an average salary, we had bought one of the nicest places to live in the area. 

I had always dreamed of owning a Victorian home. I had performed the role of Prof. Henry Higgins from the musical My Fair Lady right before we moved to our new city. So I was primed to live the life of the English gentleman, sipping tea in my beautiful old house. I loved the old wood, the stained glass windows, and our “penthouse suite” for my wife and me on the top floor. We’d be sequestered away from the noise of our little girls playing below us. It all seemed so ideal.

But it turned out to be anything but ideal. Our “Golden House”, as our little girls came to call it, was not so golden. In fact, our dream house almost killed us, quite literally. 

One afternoon I got a call at the church. It was Dawn, my wife, and she was sobbing hysterically. Finally I was able to make out enough of her words to understand what was happening.

“I fell…come home!”

Almost 20 years ago, my wife had been in a bad car accident that crushed her right leg. That ankle couldn’t turn at all. So as I ran the 5 blocks to my home, I knew what had happened.

When I got to the house, I found Dawn in the basement. She was headed to the washer and drier there, and had misjudged a step going down. She hit the concrete floor hard.

After getting her to the hospital, thankfully we learned nothing had been broken. However, that would be just the first of several falls for Dawn down those steps. We eventually moved the washer and drier up to the second floor, which helped a little. But the bottom line was a three-story house with narrow stairways were not meant for a woman who had challenges with mobility.

I also learned having your bedroom on the third-floor is not a good idea for a chubby guy in his mid-50s. There were a few days I wondered if I’d still be alive by the time I reached the top floor. Though I began on the stairway to the bedroom, I might end up on the stairway to heaven…

Then there was the city. Dawn and I always loved culture, restaurants, theater and all the things a great city has to offer. So living there, we felt like kids in a candy store. There was always some new restaurant to explore, always a show playing somewhere, and interesting people living all around us. It seemed ideal.

Except for crime. And taxes. Many cities are big on those, and ours was no exception. We had both in abundance.

One of our regular nightly diversions was watching the notifications on our community’s “Next Door App” alert us to all the recent shootings and hold-ups around us. One of us would hear gunshots, and I’d watch for the posts to pop up. I’d then calculate how close it was to our home. Many were within just a few blocks, some just down the street. 

We would occasionally get notices of some tax we hadn’t paid. Usually, we neglected to pay because the city had neglected to ever send a bill. Then one day, you get a notice you’re being sent to a collections agency, even though you still hadn’t received a bill yourself. 

Once we got a bill for trash pick-up. We were confused because we paid a refuse bill on time every month. But a lady on the phone informed us what we had paid was in fact only the garbage bill. There was completely different bill that was a tax for just having trash pick up available to us in the city. This bill was paying for the “possibility” our trash might be picked up. No kidding.

I’m sure they’re still probably working on a way to collect a tax on our taxes. 

All of this added together was a painful lesson on the difference between perception and reality. After we first moved to that city and were still living in an apartment, I walked down those very streets and fantasized about how wonderful living there would be. When we found the Golden House, we rejoiced and basically cried out, “Here, take our money” to the realtor. 

But the view from the outside of a situation is always much different from the inside. Nothing is ever quite what you expect…with houses, or with life.

The problem with so many of the things we want is it’s too often based on an illusion. We think a thing, a person, or a situation will bring happiness. But happiness is never found in those things outside of us.

Real happiness only happens from the inside out.

There’s an old fashioned Bible word for this foolishness: covetousness. The prohibition against coveting is actually the 10th and final commandment. It’s easily skimmed over in favor of the more R-rated commandments against murder or adultery. Simply wanting your neighbors stuff as opposed to stealing it or killing for it seems like no big deal in comparison.

But coveting is like a powerful drug. The addict never gets enough. Once he gets that one thing he’s obsessed over, he’s disappointed to realize it doesn’t fulfill his needs and he moves on to something more. The new car he’d wanted all his life now sits in the garage most days. She can’t even remember why she bought that purse now. That’s how coveting works: whatever you get, it’s never enough. You’re always left wanting something else, and even more addicted to your desires.

Whatever my eyes desired I did not keep from them. I did not withhold my heart from any pleasure, for my heart rejoiced in all my labor; And this was my reward from all my labor. Then I looked on all the works that my hands had done and on the labor in which I had toiled; And indeed all was vanity and grasping for the wind. There was no profit under the sun. - Ecclesiastes 2:10-11

Take care, and be on your guard against all covetousness, for one's life does not consist in the abundance of his possessions. - Luke 12:15

There was nothing wrong with us wanting a house. But it was very wrong of me to think that it would bring us so much happiness on its own. The ideal life and fulfillment I was expecting from a house was unreasonable. 

That kind of happiness only comes from God’s address, not mine.

Inevitably, we become like kids on the day after Christmas. We’ve opened every package, played with every toy, and we’re already bored with them. The newness wore off in a day, all because we were expecting too much from them to begin with.

Most homes stop being dream houses the minute we walk into them. Reality inevitably sets in, and the “house porn” on the realtor’s website is now just a bunch of plaster and dry wall. 

We finally made it out of our dream house before it killed us. No, we didn't run screaming from it in the middle of the night like in the Shining or the Amityville Horror. When we left, it did take quite a bite out of our finances, and we had to sell for quite a bit less than we'd paid. But the wound was worth it for the lesson we learned.

We’re in a new place now, in a much smaller city. We’re renting a little one-story house we’re hoping to buy soon. We're in a little neighborhood where we hardly ever lock our front door. It's pretty boring compared to city life, but that’s just fine with me.

I’ve discovered what really makes a “dream house”. The dream is not the house, it’s the people you put in it. Regardless of the size or location, those people are what makes life worthwhile. 

Everything else is just a dream. And all that glitters is not a golden house.