Does Gratitude Compel you to live for Christ...or fear of Hell?

Loving God solely for gratitude isn't fearing hell, although the ultimate goal in life is to try to love God for loves sake.(I think)

I live for Christ therefore have no need to fear Hell.

It's all about guilt and fear.

A man made religion sells them the guilt and fear but promises to be able to "save" them from eternal damnation.

They are indoctrinated by a man made religion into believing they are all born sinners who need salvation.

nither i will not live for a human name christ and i do not fear hell because i am got going there

gratitude

The thing that compels me to live for a dead guy is...actually nothing.

Its not 'Gratitude" its called GRACE! FAITH! and LOVE!

Love and gratitude.

WHY I BELIEVE

Heb 1:14 Are they not all ministering spirits, sent forth to minister for those who shall be heirs of salvation?

Many times over I have found out how true that Scripture is. Even before I was born again He was watching over me.

I am awed and overwhelmed at the careful attention He pays to me and has kept me alive and uninjured all these years. I don’t know why. As the world goes I am a nobody and even as a Christian I am not a preacher or anyone of importance in any ministry. He has been taking care of me even before I was born again. I may not be important to anyone else, but I am important to Him. That is so awesome.

When I was eight years old, I lived in La Jolla, which is a suburb of San Diego, California. My parents took me to the beach. It was called The Cove. (You can see it if you watch LIFEGUARDS on the Weather Channel). I didn't know how to swim but loved to collect all the interesting items one finds on a beach, both in and out of the water. I kept going out farther and farther with my head under water most of the time, scanning the bottom for treasures. Before I knew it, I had wandered out farther than I intended and could not get my head above the water. Suddenly a hand got me by the hair and pulled me up. A big man with a dark tan told me to get back to my parents, so as they told me, and not wander out so far. I was too scared to argue. I got out of the water. I looked back to see where the man was, but there was no sign of him anywhere. I stayed on shore for a while, watching to see if he had ducked under the water, but I never saw him again.

All through my childhood, there were so many occasions when I could have died or at least been seriously hurt that I can't even remember them all.

One of the occasions I remember best is when my children were small. My husband and I and the children were taking a trip from southern Wisconsin to Minnesota. I was driving. It was night and everyone else in the car was asleep. Interstate I-90 was in the process of being constructed. I heard a very loud, distinct and familiar voice shouting at me by name and telling me to wake up. I woke up just in time to put on the brakes to avoid going through a barricade and landing us all in the Mississippi river. When I thought about it later, I kept trying to place the voice. It was familiar, but I never could identify it.

My favorite instance is when I was in Arizona near the Superstition mountains walking along the edge of the desert. It was 105 degrees out. The air is so dry in the desert a person doesn't feel it. The sweat dries on the body so fast it leaves a white salt residue. I had a jug of Gator Ade with me and was singing along sure I was headed in the right direction to where I parked my car. I parked it off the road and under a bush out of the sun.

From out of nowhere a dune buggy driven by a very tan, tall blond man in cut off shorts, no shirt and bare foot, stopped. I was getting a bit apprehensive at this point. He said, something to me that no one else knew. Then he said, "Do you belong to a red striped silver Chevette?" If he had said it any other way I would have run. I got in and he turned the dune buggy around and took me to my car which was several miles in the opposite direction. He didn't say another word to me. He just stopped, let me out. I turned around to thank him and he had totally disappeared. Dune buggies are not quiet. I didn't even hear it go down the road. It was just gone. This tall blond angel rescued me from being a casualty of the desert that day. It was my first and only ride in a dune buggy.

Another time I was climbing one of the trails going up the Superstition Mtn. I miscalculated and fell over the edge that was over a deep canyon. Something grabbed me and changed my direction so I fell onto the trail instead of over the edge. Another rescue.

When living in New Mexico later, my son and I were riding our horses on a narrow trail going down a cliff side. I leaned forward too hard and went over the horse’s head and under his feet. No injuries. My son told me he never saw anyone fall like I do. He says I fall in slow motion like someone is holding me.

These kinds of things have happened all through my adrenalin rush life.

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