Tommy Mann

What do you think of when you hear the word gentleness? It might not be what some guys strive for, but it is a good quality to possess; in fact, it is listed among the Fruit of the Spirit in Galatians 5.    Did you know the Bible equates gentleness in the life of a Christian with the presence of God? The NIV translates Philippians 4:5 this way: “Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near.”      That word gentleness appears as moderation in the King James, as reasonableness in the ESV, and as forbearance in the American Standard. It is a difficult word to translate, but it seems to be associated with meekness and humility. Gentleness, by definition, means to be kind, and is the antonym of severity.    Some people seem to think this conduct is optional for believers, as if they do not have to model this kind of behavior. “That is great for you, but I’m just not wired that way.”  But in the verse above Paul tied together gentleness and the company of Jesus (“the Lord is ne

Twelve years can seem like an eternity to some people, and yet feel like just months to others. When you are twelve years old, that number is literally a lifetime. But when your baby turns twelve, you shake your head and wonder, “Where has the time gone? How did this happen so fast?”    In Luke 8 there are two people involved in the same span of time—twelve years—but their circumstances could not have been more different. There is an important man named Jairus, a leader among Jews in his synagogue. He made his way to Jesus to implore Him for a healing because, “he had an only daughter, about twelve years of age, and she was dying (v.42).”   His little girl. The one who hugged him as he tucked her into bed at night. The one who melted his heart when she called him  Daddy.  His  only  little girl. Now she is sick, and as the Greek text reads, was “at her last breath.” Indeed, she would die within a few minutes of her father finding Jesus.    His twelve years with his daughter had surely

I have always felt the need to impress my superiors, be they managers, coaches, or bosses. Maybe it is part of my work ethic, or perhaps some deeper desire for approval. Either way, I always wanted to outperform my counterparts and establish myself as being useful—even irreplaceable—to the operation.    While I’m sure some employers appreciated that effort, that is an exhausting way to live. To see oneself in that light is like being reduced to a cog in the machinery (albeit an important one). If we are not careful, we can allow that mindset to infiltrate our approach to God.    When we rightfully think of God as our superior, we run the risk of thinking in human terms, to wit, that God only wants us around if we can perform at a high level. And then we can begin to feel that what we do is about impressing God or keeping Him happy.    But God doesn’t prefer the employee of the month over anyone else. In fact, God does not love us based on what we bring to the table, but simply because

I once heard a preacher say that having an unforgiving spirit is like a man who grabs a bear by the tail—both man and bear are caught in that scenario. A bear does not have a long tail, like that of a rhesus monkey. If someone wants to grab a bear’s tail, he has to get up close and personal.    If you were able to successfully sneak up on a bear and grab its tail, what is your next move? You can say you have trapped the bear, but in reality, you are the one who is trapped. You have gained the beast’s attention, and he will soon spin around and face you with his menacing teeth and massive paws.    Holding on to unforgiveness is like holding the bear’s tail: it will not end well for us. But once we choose to let go of the grudge, there might be a little pain, but it will actually set us free. The longer we refuse to forgive, the more harm we do to our own soul. We lose our joy, and we gradually become miserable people.    In Luke 6:37, Jesus succinctly said, “Forgive, and you will be for