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Marine

“I’m just a marine.”

So said the man standing in my doorway the other day. He was representing a company that does business with the company I work for. We were talking about a project on which we were collaborating. I was taking care of some techie stuff so our two companies could communicate electronically.

I apparently started speaking ‘techeese’ and lost him at the bakery, and that’s when he said ‘I’m just a marine.’ Understand me here. He was not putting himself down, or diminishing himself in any way. He was just stating a fact. He was, in fact, not an active marine. He was retired, and now has a job with a local ink company.

But if you ask him who (or even what) he is, the answer is,

“I’m a marine.”

When did he become a marine?

Was he born a marine? Nope.

I suspect the day he stepped out of the bus at the Marine Corps base at Quantico, he was a marine embryo. Over the course of the next few weeks in the womb of that base, through the umbilical cord of his drill sergeant he formed, in short order, into a full-grown, loaded for bear, marine.

You could say, he was born again.

Once born as a marine - it would be his identity for life. No matter how long he lives after Quantico, he identifies himself as a marine.

Have you been born-again?

Have you passed through the womb of the cross - killing the old man - connecting to the umbilical cord of the Spirit of the Living God? Has the breath of Live blown into your lungs and changed your DNA? Are you a new creation—new species— with the life of God inside?

Who are you? How would you identify yourself?

“I’m a child of the King.”

“I’m a son of God.”

“I’m a light set on a hill.”

“I’m an heir of the promise.”

“I’m a Christian.”

BenHeadshotThanks for coming by.

Shine where you’re screwed in.

Ben

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  1. Pingback: My Article Read (10-1-2015) | My Daily Musing

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