"I'm not trusting God anymore."
That was the thought that popped into my head yesterday, but before you start fasting and praying for my soul, allow me to explain what it really means...
When we're going through a long-term trial, we tend to go through phases. Psychologists have very helpfully come up with the official "Stages of Grief": Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, and Acceptance. Our faith lives tend to go through very similar stages:
1) When we get the bad news, we first jump to "this isn't happening". It's just what we do.
2) Once we've accepted the fact that yes, it really is happening, we often get angry at God. "Why are You allowing this to happen?"
3) At some point, we try to make deals with God. "If you make this go away, I promise I'll give 90% of my income to the church, I'll pray for 3 hours every day and I'll look into going on a missions trip to Timbuktu."
4) Here's where I tend to wander off the proverbial beaten path, and you may too. Yes, I do experience some depression in the midst of a trial, but more than that, I experience guilt as I allow Satan to convince me that I've done something to deserve what's happening. The Bible absolutely teaches that God disciplines us (Hebrews 12:6-11), and it's never a bad idea to make sure that there isn't some unconfessed or habitual sin in your life. But when something difficult pops up in my life, I automatically assume that it is always God punishing me for something I've done to anger Him. I don't usually leave open the possibility that there could be some other reason for what's happening, and this sends me into the deep end of the guilt pool without my Water Wings.
5) After moving through all of the negative reactions to a trial, at some point, the mature Christian decides that the best course of action is to trust that God knows what He's doing, leave it in His hands, and move on with life as much as possible. We remind ourselves that Jesus told us not to worry (Matthew 6:34) and that God is able to do more than we can even imagine on our behalf (Ephesians 3:20-21). We realize that trust is a daily (and sometimes hourly) decision and while we may falter from time to time, the overriding theme of our lives is that we honestly and actively do trust that God will do what is best for us in His perfect timing.
I've successfully navigated all of these steps (some of them multiple times) in the year and a half since I lost my job. But yesterday, I realized that I've turned a corner and that there is a sixth stage in the Christian's Stages of Dealing With Stuff We Don't Understand. (I suppose I should work on a more streamlined title for that, huh? Perhaps an acronym?)
When we spend an extended period of time in a particular stage, a few things can happen: 1) We get stuck - or worse, comfortable - there and can't move on, 2) We get obsessed with the problem that landed us there and can't move on, 3) We get tired of being there and just decide to move on (often before we're ready) or 4) We learn everything there is to learn in that stage and legitimately graduate to the next stage. I'll admit, I've done all four of those at just about every stage of the CSDWSWDU. And now, I'm on Stage 6:
6) We stop having to make a conscious effort to trust that God will do His part and we simply wait for Him to do it.
There is absolutely no doubt in my mind that God will provide a job for me. There is also now absolutely no doubt in my mind that until He does, He will continue to meet my needs. I no longer need to remind myself (or Him) that I'm trusting Him every day. I've been doing it so long, and He's been so faithful that now, I'm in a place in my walk with Him (and in this "trial)" where I'm just waiting. I'm doing it with eager anticipation and with a grateful heart, but it's not an active, energy-spending activity like trusting can be. Instead, it's a place of peace, a place of rest.
I'm not saying that I won't need to go back to Stage 5 before this "trial" is over. And I'm not saying that I'm becoming complacent or that I'm letting my guard down against Satan's arrows of doubt (or pride). What I am doing is accepting this stage as a gift from the One who knows my heart, knows my fears and knows my future. I'm joyfully resting in Him and saving my energy for whatever is coming next. I'm at peace in the arms of my Father, and I think I like it here.
What about you?
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Saturday, October 3, 2009
My Psalm
I wrote this the other day. You may notice that the title doesn't follow my normal format and that I don't reference specific verses. It's also quite a bit longer than my normal posts. This started out as something just between God and me, but I always think that when God is teaching me something, there's probably someone else out there who needs to hear it too. So in that spirit, I share the following:
My heart is heavy, oh God.
Sadness and longing fill my days.
My heart is empty and my desires are unfulfilled.
Fear, discouragement and grief are my food by day.
Disappointment, sadness and longing come to bed with me.
How long, oh Lord, how long?
I cry to You day and night.
I pour out my needs and my wants,
But in the morning, they remain unchanged.
Every night, they are the same.
But still, I will praise you.
I will remember the ways you have blessed me.
I will remember those moments when my heart was full.
And I will wait.
And I will trust.
In Whom else can I trust?
What else will fulfill my longings?
I know without a doubt, that You and You alone are my fulfillment.
It is only in You that I find comfort and security.
Without You, I am nothing and I have nothing.
When I come to You, I am vulnerable.
I open up my deepest wounds to You,
Because only You can heal them.
When You see me naked before You,
You clothe me in your love and grace and mercy.
Everything I am reaches out to You.
But You are already here.
My heart searches for you.
It asks, “Why are you so distant?”
But You are always with me.
Oh Lord, my God, You hold me in Your arms.
You, my Father, wipe away my many tears.
You, my Provider tell my heart, “I know”.
You, my Healer, give joy to my soul.
Oh Lord, my God, You are all I need.
Though my prayers go unanswered,
You give peace that I don’t understand.
You are my Father and I am Your child.
My heart is in Your tender care.
My soul rejoices in You.
I write this today with tears streaming down my face. They are tears of incredible sadness and loss. They are tears of hurt, disappointment, discouragement and fear. They are tears of surrender, vulnerability and yes, even hope. But more than that, they are tears of thankfulness and joy. Who knew that so many emotions could be contained in a single tear?
But God knew before this day even started that I would be sitting right where I am, writing these very words, crying these very tears. He knew, long before I did that this day would come. And I think He’s been looking forward to it.
God created us for relationship and intimacy with Him. But so often, we approach Him instead with either a disrespectful casualness or a distant and fearful formality. Almost never do most people approach Him as a child approaches her Daddy. I have a picture in my mind of my brother sitting on the steps in his house. His oldest daughter has draped herself across his arms and his son has jumped on his back and is clinging to his neck. There is a happiness on all of their faces that can only come from a place of uninhibited love for each other. Although I wasn’t there when the picture was taken, I can hear their laughter joining together in one of the most beautiful pieces of three-part harmony ever heard.
It is that kind of freedom God wants us to have with Him. He wants us to fling ourselves into His arms with all the love and happiness and trust of a child. But I find myself only coming to Him when I am sad or angry or disappointed. More often than not, the only time I fling myself into His arms is when I realize that I’m completely out of options.
While I know that He wants me to run to Him in those times, I wonder how often He watches me run to my parents and my friends with my joys and successes instead of to Him. I wonder, in those times of my greatest happiness if I don’t cause a time of great sadness to Him. I’m realizing that perhaps, I have all it backwards. If my brother’s children only ran to him when they were hurt, or had a complaint, there would never have been an opportunity for that picture that I love so much to have been taken. And I think, when we only bring God our brokenness, we have an incomplete and singular relationship with Him. And I think, that breaks His heart.
As I wrote the words of my Psalm, I found that it wasn’t so much the pouring out of my sadness and emptiness that brought the tears, because those tears had been cried so many times over the course of my life. Yes, they were sitting there below the surface, but I could fight them back. But when I remembered the moments of peace and joy that God has given me lately, I could no longer dam the stream. Even now, that last sentence has brought them back.
Sadly, it has only been in the midst of such intense sadness and loss that I have been open enough to receive some of God’s greatest blessings. By way of example, I started looking for a church as soon as I moved to this area five years ago. I visited so many churches in so many denominations that I can’t even remember all of them. I begged and pleaded with God to lead me to a church. I argued with Him about the importance of fellowship. I yelled at Him for not giving me what I knew I needed. I even gave up for a while, and blamed Him when I woke up on a Sunday morning and decided to not bother going to church at all.
During those first four years, I experienced intense loneliness and isolation. I blamed Satan. I blamed God. But I’m seeing now that I was spending so much time complaining to Him that I missed opportunities to run to Him in joy and gratitude when He answered other prayers. I was so focused on what I saw as my most pressing need that I all but ignored His provision in other areas of my life.
It wasn’t until my very livelihood was threatened that I finally changed my approach. In one day, everything I had was taken away – my income, my relationships, my purpose and I was left standing before God completely empty. But it was on that day that I finally understood the “peace that passes understanding”. And it was that weekend that I was finally ready to receive the blessing of a church. God had been waiting until He knew I was ready before He led me “home”. And it was only in my emptiness that I was able to run into his arms with laughter instead of bitter tears when I finally saw Him answer my prayer.
I’m tempted to wonder if my own actions and attitudes prevented God from answering my prayers for a church family, and I suspect that they did. But rather than allowing guilt to mar the beauty and sweetness of God’s gift, I choose instead to thank Him with incredible joy whenever I get in my car and pull out of that church parking lot.
So here I sit on my couch with a cup of tea and a cat, reflecting not on my sadness or even past mistakes. Instead, my heart is full of praise for my Creator. He created me to love Him and He created me to be loved by Him. He longs for me to spontaneously jump into His arms and laugh with Him with the complete abandon of a child who absolutely adores her Father.
It is those times that I come to Him with excitement, happiness and laughter that tell my heart it’s also ok to trust Him with my fear, sadness and disappointment. I think this is how He wants it, and not the other way around.
My heart is heavy, oh God.
Sadness and longing fill my days.
My heart is empty and my desires are unfulfilled.
Fear, discouragement and grief are my food by day.
Disappointment, sadness and longing come to bed with me.
How long, oh Lord, how long?
I cry to You day and night.
I pour out my needs and my wants,
But in the morning, they remain unchanged.
Every night, they are the same.
But still, I will praise you.
I will remember the ways you have blessed me.
I will remember those moments when my heart was full.
And I will wait.
And I will trust.
In Whom else can I trust?
What else will fulfill my longings?
I know without a doubt, that You and You alone are my fulfillment.
It is only in You that I find comfort and security.
Without You, I am nothing and I have nothing.
When I come to You, I am vulnerable.
I open up my deepest wounds to You,
Because only You can heal them.
When You see me naked before You,
You clothe me in your love and grace and mercy.
Everything I am reaches out to You.
But You are already here.
My heart searches for you.
It asks, “Why are you so distant?”
But You are always with me.
Oh Lord, my God, You hold me in Your arms.
You, my Father, wipe away my many tears.
You, my Provider tell my heart, “I know”.
You, my Healer, give joy to my soul.
Oh Lord, my God, You are all I need.
Though my prayers go unanswered,
You give peace that I don’t understand.
You are my Father and I am Your child.
My heart is in Your tender care.
My soul rejoices in You.
I write this today with tears streaming down my face. They are tears of incredible sadness and loss. They are tears of hurt, disappointment, discouragement and fear. They are tears of surrender, vulnerability and yes, even hope. But more than that, they are tears of thankfulness and joy. Who knew that so many emotions could be contained in a single tear?
But God knew before this day even started that I would be sitting right where I am, writing these very words, crying these very tears. He knew, long before I did that this day would come. And I think He’s been looking forward to it.
God created us for relationship and intimacy with Him. But so often, we approach Him instead with either a disrespectful casualness or a distant and fearful formality. Almost never do most people approach Him as a child approaches her Daddy. I have a picture in my mind of my brother sitting on the steps in his house. His oldest daughter has draped herself across his arms and his son has jumped on his back and is clinging to his neck. There is a happiness on all of their faces that can only come from a place of uninhibited love for each other. Although I wasn’t there when the picture was taken, I can hear their laughter joining together in one of the most beautiful pieces of three-part harmony ever heard.
It is that kind of freedom God wants us to have with Him. He wants us to fling ourselves into His arms with all the love and happiness and trust of a child. But I find myself only coming to Him when I am sad or angry or disappointed. More often than not, the only time I fling myself into His arms is when I realize that I’m completely out of options.
While I know that He wants me to run to Him in those times, I wonder how often He watches me run to my parents and my friends with my joys and successes instead of to Him. I wonder, in those times of my greatest happiness if I don’t cause a time of great sadness to Him. I’m realizing that perhaps, I have all it backwards. If my brother’s children only ran to him when they were hurt, or had a complaint, there would never have been an opportunity for that picture that I love so much to have been taken. And I think, when we only bring God our brokenness, we have an incomplete and singular relationship with Him. And I think, that breaks His heart.
As I wrote the words of my Psalm, I found that it wasn’t so much the pouring out of my sadness and emptiness that brought the tears, because those tears had been cried so many times over the course of my life. Yes, they were sitting there below the surface, but I could fight them back. But when I remembered the moments of peace and joy that God has given me lately, I could no longer dam the stream. Even now, that last sentence has brought them back.
Sadly, it has only been in the midst of such intense sadness and loss that I have been open enough to receive some of God’s greatest blessings. By way of example, I started looking for a church as soon as I moved to this area five years ago. I visited so many churches in so many denominations that I can’t even remember all of them. I begged and pleaded with God to lead me to a church. I argued with Him about the importance of fellowship. I yelled at Him for not giving me what I knew I needed. I even gave up for a while, and blamed Him when I woke up on a Sunday morning and decided to not bother going to church at all.
During those first four years, I experienced intense loneliness and isolation. I blamed Satan. I blamed God. But I’m seeing now that I was spending so much time complaining to Him that I missed opportunities to run to Him in joy and gratitude when He answered other prayers. I was so focused on what I saw as my most pressing need that I all but ignored His provision in other areas of my life.
It wasn’t until my very livelihood was threatened that I finally changed my approach. In one day, everything I had was taken away – my income, my relationships, my purpose and I was left standing before God completely empty. But it was on that day that I finally understood the “peace that passes understanding”. And it was that weekend that I was finally ready to receive the blessing of a church. God had been waiting until He knew I was ready before He led me “home”. And it was only in my emptiness that I was able to run into his arms with laughter instead of bitter tears when I finally saw Him answer my prayer.
I’m tempted to wonder if my own actions and attitudes prevented God from answering my prayers for a church family, and I suspect that they did. But rather than allowing guilt to mar the beauty and sweetness of God’s gift, I choose instead to thank Him with incredible joy whenever I get in my car and pull out of that church parking lot.
So here I sit on my couch with a cup of tea and a cat, reflecting not on my sadness or even past mistakes. Instead, my heart is full of praise for my Creator. He created me to love Him and He created me to be loved by Him. He longs for me to spontaneously jump into His arms and laugh with Him with the complete abandon of a child who absolutely adores her Father.
It is those times that I come to Him with excitement, happiness and laughter that tell my heart it’s also ok to trust Him with my fear, sadness and disappointment. I think this is how He wants it, and not the other way around.
Friday, April 17, 2009
On What To Do With Worry
"Yup, things are pretty bad right now." I don't think that thought has escaped too many people lately. But what can we do about it? Well, I'm so glad you asked (hee hee) because I've gotten some recent insights that I feel compelled to share...
Let me preface this by saying that as usual, this really should not be too earth-shattering. These are more things that I apparently needed to be reminded about and therefore, I assume that someone else could use a reminder as well. And since they are things that come straight from the mouth of Jesus, chances are pretty good that over the 20 centuries since He said them, there have been others who have needed these reminders. So I don't feel even a little bit bad about having been reminded or about doing some reminding. Really.
Reminder #1: Jesus said, "Don't worry about your life." (Matthew 6:25).
Easy for Him to say. He is, after all, the Son of the God of the universe. What could He possibly have to worry about? Right? Well, yes, this is true. But remember, He walked this earth just like the rest of us, so it's not like He has no idea what we're going through. And you know what? He says, "Your Father in Heaven knows" what you need (v. 32). He knows that you need food. He knows that you need your children to be healthy. He knows that you need companionship. And Jesus says, "Don't worry about it." A bit harsh, maybe. But a command, nonetheless.
Still not doing it for you? Ok, let's check in with someone else. Oops, our friend Paul says the same thing...Philippians 4:6 is one of those verses that tends to make people cringe: "Do not be anxious about anything." (How annoying - Paul and Jesus were on the same page.) Paul goes on to say that instead of worrying, we should let God know what's on our minds. This is not something we do because God doesn't already know what's bothering us. We do this for our own benefit. The wording Paul uses here is interesting. He's not saying that we should just tell God what we're worried about. The wording he uses is much deeper than that. The Greek for the phrase the NIV translates as "present your requests" is gnorizo which means "to have thorough knowledge of". So it's much more than just listing off a bunch of problems - it's coming to understand why we're worried about a particular issue and bringing that to God.
As we explore the whys of our worries, we get to the deeper issues of our faith. Are we worried about money and how we're going to pay our bills? Why? What we're really worried about is that God can not provide for us, even though He's told us (back in Matthew for example) that He will. Are we worried about a health issue? Why? What we're really worried about is that God can not provide healing, even though we know that nothing is impossible with God (Luke 1:37).
But digging even deeper we find that even those of us who know that God can do anything, wonder if He will do anything. And that, my friends, is for Him to decide. I'm having some trouble swallowing that truth at the moment, but it is truth and my job as someone who claims to have faith in God for my eternal salvation is to ask God for the faith to live through every moment of every day, and believe that even if God chooses not to intervene on my behalf, He knows exactly what He's doing. He knows what's best for me, for the people around me, and He knows exactly how He will end up redeeming my situation and as a result, how He will be glorified in it.
So the question I jokingly asked God was this: "But God, I spend so much time worrying. If I give that up, what on earth will I do with all my time?"
Reminder #2: Jesus said, "Love your neighbor as yourself" (Mark 12:31).
Worry is really nothing more than a self-centered focus. A great way to break out of that (and therefore to obey Jesus' command) is to focus on someone else for a while. Get up, go out, and find someone else you can bless. Bring flowers to someone who can't get out. Bring a plate of cookies to a friend, just for the fun of it. When you go to church this Sunday, instead of asking God to bless you through the service, ask Him to point out someone to you who you can bless with the love He's given you. Do everything you can to take your focus off yourself.
If you've done what God told you to do, and you've presented your deepest requests and desires to Him, don't take them back. Thank Him for the way He is already working on your situation (did you see that part in Philippians 4:6?) Then accept the peace that He will give you (v. 7). Let that peace stand guard over your heart to fight off future attacks of worry. If the worry does sneak back in, stop as soon as you become aware of it. Hand it over to God, then ask Him to show you a new way to focus on someone else instead of yourself.
And if none of that works, check out this: www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bb7TSGptd3Y
Let me preface this by saying that as usual, this really should not be too earth-shattering. These are more things that I apparently needed to be reminded about and therefore, I assume that someone else could use a reminder as well. And since they are things that come straight from the mouth of Jesus, chances are pretty good that over the 20 centuries since He said them, there have been others who have needed these reminders. So I don't feel even a little bit bad about having been reminded or about doing some reminding. Really.
Reminder #1: Jesus said, "Don't worry about your life." (Matthew 6:25).
Easy for Him to say. He is, after all, the Son of the God of the universe. What could He possibly have to worry about? Right? Well, yes, this is true. But remember, He walked this earth just like the rest of us, so it's not like He has no idea what we're going through. And you know what? He says, "Your Father in Heaven knows" what you need (v. 32). He knows that you need food. He knows that you need your children to be healthy. He knows that you need companionship. And Jesus says, "Don't worry about it." A bit harsh, maybe. But a command, nonetheless.
Still not doing it for you? Ok, let's check in with someone else. Oops, our friend Paul says the same thing...Philippians 4:6 is one of those verses that tends to make people cringe: "Do not be anxious about anything." (How annoying - Paul and Jesus were on the same page.) Paul goes on to say that instead of worrying, we should let God know what's on our minds. This is not something we do because God doesn't already know what's bothering us. We do this for our own benefit. The wording Paul uses here is interesting. He's not saying that we should just tell God what we're worried about. The wording he uses is much deeper than that. The Greek for the phrase the NIV translates as "present your requests" is gnorizo which means "to have thorough knowledge of". So it's much more than just listing off a bunch of problems - it's coming to understand why we're worried about a particular issue and bringing that to God.
As we explore the whys of our worries, we get to the deeper issues of our faith. Are we worried about money and how we're going to pay our bills? Why? What we're really worried about is that God can not provide for us, even though He's told us (back in Matthew for example) that He will. Are we worried about a health issue? Why? What we're really worried about is that God can not provide healing, even though we know that nothing is impossible with God (Luke 1:37).
But digging even deeper we find that even those of us who know that God can do anything, wonder if He will do anything. And that, my friends, is for Him to decide. I'm having some trouble swallowing that truth at the moment, but it is truth and my job as someone who claims to have faith in God for my eternal salvation is to ask God for the faith to live through every moment of every day, and believe that even if God chooses not to intervene on my behalf, He knows exactly what He's doing. He knows what's best for me, for the people around me, and He knows exactly how He will end up redeeming my situation and as a result, how He will be glorified in it.
So the question I jokingly asked God was this: "But God, I spend so much time worrying. If I give that up, what on earth will I do with all my time?"
Reminder #2: Jesus said, "Love your neighbor as yourself" (Mark 12:31).
Worry is really nothing more than a self-centered focus. A great way to break out of that (and therefore to obey Jesus' command) is to focus on someone else for a while. Get up, go out, and find someone else you can bless. Bring flowers to someone who can't get out. Bring a plate of cookies to a friend, just for the fun of it. When you go to church this Sunday, instead of asking God to bless you through the service, ask Him to point out someone to you who you can bless with the love He's given you. Do everything you can to take your focus off yourself.
If you've done what God told you to do, and you've presented your deepest requests and desires to Him, don't take them back. Thank Him for the way He is already working on your situation (did you see that part in Philippians 4:6?) Then accept the peace that He will give you (v. 7). Let that peace stand guard over your heart to fight off future attacks of worry. If the worry does sneak back in, stop as soon as you become aware of it. Hand it over to God, then ask Him to show you a new way to focus on someone else instead of yourself.
And if none of that works, check out this: www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bb7TSGptd3Y
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
On Obeying When It's Scary
I admit that I have been MIA for a few months, but so much of what God has been teaching me has felt like puzzle pieces and not anything concrete enough to share with other people (how's that for mixing metaphors?). I still feel that way, but there is one theme that has been coming back over and over again in the last few weeks that I feel very strongly is meant for someone else, as well as for me:
How often does God ask us to do something that we're pretty sure will hurt us? For example, let's look at the life of our friend Abraham for a moment, shall we? Now there's a guy who had his faith challenged many, many, many, many times, and often in very scary and painful ways. He was asked to leave everything he knew and move to the "land [God] will show" him - scary (Genesis 12:1). He was asked to believe that after a lifetime of not having a family, God would give him so many decedents that they could not be counted - emotionally painful(Genesis 15:5). He was asked to circumcise himself - I think this falls into both categories (Genesis 17:11). And most notably, he was asked to give back the son he had waited a century for - well, this one definitely fits the scary/painful bill (Genesis 22:2).
A little aside here: I was watching a comedian, Jim Gaffigan, last night and he was talking about the tests God gave some people in the Old Testament. "Don't eat that fruit. Build me a boat. Circumcise yourself. (To which Abraham responds, "Can't I just build two boats?")
Anyway, the point is this: As with so many other things, God always gives us what we need in order to do what he asks us to do. And at the most basic level, what He gives us is faith to obey. Whether we take hold of that faith and take that step of obedience is another matter, but that's our freedom to choose at work. Let me give you a very specific (and at the moment, a very personal) example. In the book of Malachi, (chapter 3, verses 8-10 to be exact) God is taking his people to task for not obeying his command to tithe. The people had been hoarding their possessions, which we do out of fear that we will not have what we need when we need it (a scary and painful prospect). God says to them, 'Look, you've been holding out on me. So here's what I'm going to propose: Cut it out, bring me what I've asked you to bring me, and then see that I really do have your best interests in mind and I really will make sure that you have what you need when you need it. Seriously, try me.'
Ok, so that's a bit of a paraphrase, but it gets to the heart of the matter. God is testing His people by asking them to test Him. (I love the irony of God's thought processes!) He's telling them that if they exercise their faith and obey His command to give to the poor and to the furthering of His work, He will undoubtedly make sure that their needs are met and even exceeded. Now let me be clear, I'm not trying to preach a "prosperity gospel" kind of thing. I'm simply saying that God does not lie and that if He promises to take care of us if we're faithful to obey, why would we not at least give it a try? What's the worst that could happen?
Over the past six months, I've seen my income shrink to an impossibly small amount. But every time I've been tempted to hold back on giving, I've heard a sermon, read a blog, or read something in the Bible that reminded me of the promise (and the challenge) in Malachi. So I once again throw my hands up to God and admit that everything I have is from Him anyway, and I give. And you know what? So far so good. Somehow, my bills get paid, I have food, and I still have a roof over my head and a car in the driveway. Sometimes it's because of someone's generosity, but quite a few times, I've had no idea how I've still had money left in my account at the end of the month. Well, I have an idea, but it's not anything earthly-logical. It's just that God is faithful and He is generously giving me faith to obey and then rewarding my obedience. Isn't that nice of Him?
Sure, I still hesitate before sending that donation. I still ask God how I'm going to pay the rent if I give what I have agreed with Him to give. But then I'm pointed to 2 Corinthians 9:6-8. And I'm left with no excuse not to obey, no matter how scary the future seems.
How often does God ask us to do something that we're pretty sure will hurt us? For example, let's look at the life of our friend Abraham for a moment, shall we? Now there's a guy who had his faith challenged many, many, many, many times, and often in very scary and painful ways. He was asked to leave everything he knew and move to the "land [God] will show" him - scary (Genesis 12:1). He was asked to believe that after a lifetime of not having a family, God would give him so many decedents that they could not be counted - emotionally painful(Genesis 15:5). He was asked to circumcise himself - I think this falls into both categories (Genesis 17:11). And most notably, he was asked to give back the son he had waited a century for - well, this one definitely fits the scary/painful bill (Genesis 22:2).
A little aside here: I was watching a comedian, Jim Gaffigan, last night and he was talking about the tests God gave some people in the Old Testament. "Don't eat that fruit. Build me a boat. Circumcise yourself. (To which Abraham responds, "Can't I just build two boats?")
Anyway, the point is this: As with so many other things, God always gives us what we need in order to do what he asks us to do. And at the most basic level, what He gives us is faith to obey. Whether we take hold of that faith and take that step of obedience is another matter, but that's our freedom to choose at work. Let me give you a very specific (and at the moment, a very personal) example. In the book of Malachi, (chapter 3, verses 8-10 to be exact) God is taking his people to task for not obeying his command to tithe. The people had been hoarding their possessions, which we do out of fear that we will not have what we need when we need it (a scary and painful prospect). God says to them, 'Look, you've been holding out on me. So here's what I'm going to propose: Cut it out, bring me what I've asked you to bring me, and then see that I really do have your best interests in mind and I really will make sure that you have what you need when you need it. Seriously, try me.'
Ok, so that's a bit of a paraphrase, but it gets to the heart of the matter. God is testing His people by asking them to test Him. (I love the irony of God's thought processes!) He's telling them that if they exercise their faith and obey His command to give to the poor and to the furthering of His work, He will undoubtedly make sure that their needs are met and even exceeded. Now let me be clear, I'm not trying to preach a "prosperity gospel" kind of thing. I'm simply saying that God does not lie and that if He promises to take care of us if we're faithful to obey, why would we not at least give it a try? What's the worst that could happen?
Over the past six months, I've seen my income shrink to an impossibly small amount. But every time I've been tempted to hold back on giving, I've heard a sermon, read a blog, or read something in the Bible that reminded me of the promise (and the challenge) in Malachi. So I once again throw my hands up to God and admit that everything I have is from Him anyway, and I give. And you know what? So far so good. Somehow, my bills get paid, I have food, and I still have a roof over my head and a car in the driveway. Sometimes it's because of someone's generosity, but quite a few times, I've had no idea how I've still had money left in my account at the end of the month. Well, I have an idea, but it's not anything earthly-logical. It's just that God is faithful and He is generously giving me faith to obey and then rewarding my obedience. Isn't that nice of Him?
Sure, I still hesitate before sending that donation. I still ask God how I'm going to pay the rent if I give what I have agreed with Him to give. But then I'm pointed to 2 Corinthians 9:6-8. And I'm left with no excuse not to obey, no matter how scary the future seems.
Friday, November 14, 2008
On the Irony of Faith
I was struck by a great irony today. I was talking to God about my tendency to not be a very trusting person. He's been asking me to trust Him lately, and while my spiritual desire is to do just that, my humanity leans toward worry and fear instead. I caught myself praying the words of the father in Mark 9:24 - "I do believe, help me overcome my unbelief!"
Do you see the irony there? In order to make that request, I have to trust God enough to believe that He will, in fact, help me to trust Him. That just blows my mind. The act of placing our faith in God requires an act of faith. And where does that faith come from? Well, from God, of course. In His great grace, He gives us just enough faith to take the step of putting our faith in Him. In his goodness, He helps us believe when every part of us is gripped in unbelief. In His love He draws us to Himself so that we cling to Him, our Help and our Protection. Over and over again, God makes the first move. It's not about us. It's about Him. And it's all for His glory!
Do you see the irony there? In order to make that request, I have to trust God enough to believe that He will, in fact, help me to trust Him. That just blows my mind. The act of placing our faith in God requires an act of faith. And where does that faith come from? Well, from God, of course. In His great grace, He gives us just enough faith to take the step of putting our faith in Him. In his goodness, He helps us believe when every part of us is gripped in unbelief. In His love He draws us to Himself so that we cling to Him, our Help and our Protection. Over and over again, God makes the first move. It's not about us. It's about Him. And it's all for His glory!
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
On Sanctification
A few months ago, I felt God telling me that I had to get rid of something I had in my possession. It was something I enjoyed, something I thought was harmless. I kept thinking it was my imagination, or someone else's influence that was making me think I should get rid of it, so I kept ignoring the prodding. But it kept getting stronger, until I had no choice but to admit it really was God telling me to do it. So last week, I obeyed. To be completely honest, I thought that once I'd obeyed, all of my problems would instantly be fixed. Nope. They're still here. So I asked God a question I've just recently learned to ask in complete openness: "What else, Lord?"
Today, I felt it again - that urge to get rid of something that I didn't see as "bad" or "sinful" or "harmful". I'll admit, I argued with God about it. I told Him that there was nothing wrong with what I had. I told Him that I feel like He just keeps taking away things I enjoy, but that He's not replacing them with anything. (Where did I get the idea that that's how it's supposed to work?) But I knew very clearly that this time, it really was God telling me to obey. Just to be on the safe side, though, I thought I'd just take a minute or two to read the Bible. Yeah, that was a "good" thing to do. I guess I thought if I read the Bible, I might hear something else from God that would excuse me from what I was pretty sure He was telling me to do. Why on earth do we do that? Why, when we think God is telling us something good, do we just accept it, but when He's telling us something we don't want to hear do we look for a way out? And why, oh why, do we ever think that the Bible is going to show us a way out of obedience?!?! I'm laughing at myself right now...
Well, wouldn't you know, God really does bless the "Flip & Point" methodology... "The ax is already at the root of the trees, and every tree that does not produce good fruit will be cut down and thrown into the fire." (Matthew 3:10) I couldn't believe what I was reading! I had just gotten done arguing to God that the thing He was telling me to get rid of wasn't anything "bad", and I had felt Him saying, "but it doesn't bring Me glory". It wasn't that this thing was necessarily producing bad fruit, but it wasn't producing good fruit either. Busted! I have to admit, it really is getting easier to obey God, the more time I spend with Him. Yes, I still doubted and argued, but this time, it was a few minutes, not a few months before I surrendered and obeyed.
So here's what I'm realizing: 1) The more time we spend with God, the easier it is to hear His voice. 2) Just because something isn't necessarily "bad" doesn't automatically make it "good". And the big one: 3) God wants to sanctify every part of us - our thoughts, our words, our actions, our imaginations (just learned this one yesterday), our wills, everything.
I've been asking God what I'm supposed to be doing to serve Him, and slowly, I'm starting to get snippets of things. Nothing is really adding up to anything practical yet, but I'm starting to see a general direction. But I'm learning very quickly that if I'm going to really be used by God for His complete glory, I need to let him take away things that either are now, or may someday in the future be in the way. I may not completely understand why He's asking me to remove things from my life, and I may be hurt/disappointed/angry when I feel like he's not "replacing" them with anything, but if I really do want Him to use (and bless) me, I have to be willing, if not eager, to obey. Every day, He is sanctifying me. He's setting me apart and making me holy because He's got something for me to do. So while this may be a painful time right now, I know, without a doubt, that someday I'll look back and see why this was all necessary, and honestly be able to say "all for Your glory, Lord".
Today, I felt it again - that urge to get rid of something that I didn't see as "bad" or "sinful" or "harmful". I'll admit, I argued with God about it. I told Him that there was nothing wrong with what I had. I told Him that I feel like He just keeps taking away things I enjoy, but that He's not replacing them with anything. (Where did I get the idea that that's how it's supposed to work?) But I knew very clearly that this time, it really was God telling me to obey. Just to be on the safe side, though, I thought I'd just take a minute or two to read the Bible. Yeah, that was a "good" thing to do. I guess I thought if I read the Bible, I might hear something else from God that would excuse me from what I was pretty sure He was telling me to do. Why on earth do we do that? Why, when we think God is telling us something good, do we just accept it, but when He's telling us something we don't want to hear do we look for a way out? And why, oh why, do we ever think that the Bible is going to show us a way out of obedience?!?! I'm laughing at myself right now...
Well, wouldn't you know, God really does bless the "Flip & Point" methodology... "The ax is already at the root of the trees, and every tree that does not produce good fruit will be cut down and thrown into the fire." (Matthew 3:10) I couldn't believe what I was reading! I had just gotten done arguing to God that the thing He was telling me to get rid of wasn't anything "bad", and I had felt Him saying, "but it doesn't bring Me glory". It wasn't that this thing was necessarily producing bad fruit, but it wasn't producing good fruit either. Busted! I have to admit, it really is getting easier to obey God, the more time I spend with Him. Yes, I still doubted and argued, but this time, it was a few minutes, not a few months before I surrendered and obeyed.
So here's what I'm realizing: 1) The more time we spend with God, the easier it is to hear His voice. 2) Just because something isn't necessarily "bad" doesn't automatically make it "good". And the big one: 3) God wants to sanctify every part of us - our thoughts, our words, our actions, our imaginations (just learned this one yesterday), our wills, everything.
I've been asking God what I'm supposed to be doing to serve Him, and slowly, I'm starting to get snippets of things. Nothing is really adding up to anything practical yet, but I'm starting to see a general direction. But I'm learning very quickly that if I'm going to really be used by God for His complete glory, I need to let him take away things that either are now, or may someday in the future be in the way. I may not completely understand why He's asking me to remove things from my life, and I may be hurt/disappointed/angry when I feel like he's not "replacing" them with anything, but if I really do want Him to use (and bless) me, I have to be willing, if not eager, to obey. Every day, He is sanctifying me. He's setting me apart and making me holy because He's got something for me to do. So while this may be a painful time right now, I know, without a doubt, that someday I'll look back and see why this was all necessary, and honestly be able to say "all for Your glory, Lord".
Thursday, October 16, 2008
On Longing
Psalm 38:9 says, "All my longings lie open before You, O Lord; my sighing is not hidden from You." You know, sometimes it's just nice knowing that He knows. And He does. He created us. He knows everything about us, even things we don't yet know about ourselves.
I have a pretty specific longing right now, but I'm finding, as I explore it, that there are some underlying longings that go with it. It's these underlying longings, not the major one that has me thinking about who I am and what my motivations in life are. But the thing is, God already knows the answers to those questions. He knows how I would handle the various scenarios I'm imagining. He knows the true motivations behind the things I'm asking Him for, even if I don't. And He knows my longings.
We all have basic needs - to be fed, to be sheltered, to be clothed, to be loved. But outside of those are where our longings fall - to be successful, to be comfortable, to be happy, to be useful. And I don't think any of these longings are bad in and of themselves. I don't think these are things God doesn't want us to ask for and to pursue. We just need to be careful that they don't overshadow the pursuit of Him. The Bible tells us that God blesses those who love Him (check out Deuteronomy 6), but can we really expect to receive God's blessings if we're more interested in our own success and happiness than we are in developing our relationship with Him? As with all good things in life, moderation is key.
But let's not fall too far on the other side of the fence either. It really is ok to ask for good things to happen, but the temptation to fall into martyrdom is sometimes very strong. We don't want to appear greedy, so we don't ask for things. We don't want to seem self-centered, so we don't share our desires with God - and definitely not with other Christians. Romans 12:15 says that we're to "rejoice with those who rejoice and mourn with those who mourn". Sometimes I think we do a little too much of the latter and not enough of the former. But we're so much more inclined to share our struggles with each other than we are our hopes so that more people know when something bad happens to us than when something good happens. When we do that, do you realize that we're stealing an opportunity away from someone else to obey God's Word, not to mention the opportunity to share in someone else's happiness?
The point is, it really is ok to have longings and to want good things to happen. It's a good thing to lay these out before God - not for His benefit, but for ours. In laying them out, He may show us motivations, or even desires that need to change. Or, He may give us the peace we need to know that what we're asking for is in alignment with His will. And it really is good and allowable to lay them out to our Christian friends so that they have the opportunity to pray with us and then, with God's blessing, to rejoice with us. Life in Christ was not meant to be a life of just getting by with the basics. He came to give us a full life, and it is a privilege to share our hopes and dreams with our Father and with our brothers and sisters in the faith.
I have a pretty specific longing right now, but I'm finding, as I explore it, that there are some underlying longings that go with it. It's these underlying longings, not the major one that has me thinking about who I am and what my motivations in life are. But the thing is, God already knows the answers to those questions. He knows how I would handle the various scenarios I'm imagining. He knows the true motivations behind the things I'm asking Him for, even if I don't. And He knows my longings.
We all have basic needs - to be fed, to be sheltered, to be clothed, to be loved. But outside of those are where our longings fall - to be successful, to be comfortable, to be happy, to be useful. And I don't think any of these longings are bad in and of themselves. I don't think these are things God doesn't want us to ask for and to pursue. We just need to be careful that they don't overshadow the pursuit of Him. The Bible tells us that God blesses those who love Him (check out Deuteronomy 6), but can we really expect to receive God's blessings if we're more interested in our own success and happiness than we are in developing our relationship with Him? As with all good things in life, moderation is key.
But let's not fall too far on the other side of the fence either. It really is ok to ask for good things to happen, but the temptation to fall into martyrdom is sometimes very strong. We don't want to appear greedy, so we don't ask for things. We don't want to seem self-centered, so we don't share our desires with God - and definitely not with other Christians. Romans 12:15 says that we're to "rejoice with those who rejoice and mourn with those who mourn". Sometimes I think we do a little too much of the latter and not enough of the former. But we're so much more inclined to share our struggles with each other than we are our hopes so that more people know when something bad happens to us than when something good happens. When we do that, do you realize that we're stealing an opportunity away from someone else to obey God's Word, not to mention the opportunity to share in someone else's happiness?
The point is, it really is ok to have longings and to want good things to happen. It's a good thing to lay these out before God - not for His benefit, but for ours. In laying them out, He may show us motivations, or even desires that need to change. Or, He may give us the peace we need to know that what we're asking for is in alignment with His will. And it really is good and allowable to lay them out to our Christian friends so that they have the opportunity to pray with us and then, with God's blessing, to rejoice with us. Life in Christ was not meant to be a life of just getting by with the basics. He came to give us a full life, and it is a privilege to share our hopes and dreams with our Father and with our brothers and sisters in the faith.
Thursday, July 24, 2008
On Instinct, Intuition and Cravings
Men often marvel at how women just know things. Women like to refer to women's intuition and instinct, but I think that women are just more tuned into their thoughts and feelings than men are. I'm not saying anything against the guys, it's just a fact that women tend to feel more than men do. For the most part, women's thoughts and emotions bathe everything they do, from getting dressed in the morning, to what they decide they're "in the mood" to eat for lunch, to carefully chosen words in conversations. Men, on the other hand, tend to dress in whatever is clean, eat whatever is readily available, and say whatever they're thinking at the moment. Naturally, there are exceptions to every rule, but psychologists have worked long and hard at figuring out the differences between men and women, and after studying this stuff for a few years in college, (and my own personal observations) I think they've got it pretty well. There's one guy, however, who was actually rather good at tuning in to his feelings, and lucky for us, God allowed his beautiful poetry to be passed on to us for our enjoyment, encouragement, and at times, a little Spirit-lead conviction.
In Psalm 27:8, David expresses the truest of gut instincts: "My heart says of You, 'Seek His face!'" (I love that the NIV adds that commanding exclamation point.) Seek God's face - what greater instinct could we have? This natural instinct to seek out a relationship with our God is one of the greatest gifts He gave those He created in His image. God made us to know Him.
Reading further, we see that David's answer to his heart's command is the one we should also have: "Your face, Lord, I will seek". But so often, we seek other relationships instead. I'm guilty of desiring relationships with people so much more than I desire a relationship with my Heavenly Father. We are drawn so strongly to flesh and bone - we want to be hugged, we want to go out to lunch with friends, we want the give and take of a face-to-face conversation. It's natural to want these things. Yes, God did create us to be in relationship with other people as evidenced by His creation of Eve to keep Adam company and help him in his work (Genesis 2:18-22). Too often though, our seeking after human relationships takes precedence over our heart's command. But without a good relationship with the Creator of the concept, how can we expect that our human relationships will be fulfilling?
We need to listen to our hearts and follow that God-placed instinct to know Him. The often-abused promise in Psalm 37:4 tells us that if we first and foremost delight in knowing God, He will give us the desires of our hearts. (Imagine for a moment what that could mean if our heart's desire is to know Him!) We want to have relationships. In fact, we need to have relationships. But even if all our human relationships fail to fulfill us, there is a greater one that never will. It's the one that our hearts crave above all others. And the best part is that it is also the one God's own heart craves.
In Psalm 27:8, David expresses the truest of gut instincts: "My heart says of You, 'Seek His face!'" (I love that the NIV adds that commanding exclamation point.) Seek God's face - what greater instinct could we have? This natural instinct to seek out a relationship with our God is one of the greatest gifts He gave those He created in His image. God made us to know Him.
Reading further, we see that David's answer to his heart's command is the one we should also have: "Your face, Lord, I will seek". But so often, we seek other relationships instead. I'm guilty of desiring relationships with people so much more than I desire a relationship with my Heavenly Father. We are drawn so strongly to flesh and bone - we want to be hugged, we want to go out to lunch with friends, we want the give and take of a face-to-face conversation. It's natural to want these things. Yes, God did create us to be in relationship with other people as evidenced by His creation of Eve to keep Adam company and help him in his work (Genesis 2:18-22). Too often though, our seeking after human relationships takes precedence over our heart's command. But without a good relationship with the Creator of the concept, how can we expect that our human relationships will be fulfilling?
We need to listen to our hearts and follow that God-placed instinct to know Him. The often-abused promise in Psalm 37:4 tells us that if we first and foremost delight in knowing God, He will give us the desires of our hearts. (Imagine for a moment what that could mean if our heart's desire is to know Him!) We want to have relationships. In fact, we need to have relationships. But even if all our human relationships fail to fulfill us, there is a greater one that never will. It's the one that our hearts crave above all others. And the best part is that it is also the one God's own heart craves.
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
On Standing Firm
I watched The Chronicles of Narnia last night. Those of us who have put our faith in Christ can't help but see the connections between the characters of Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy in C.S. Lewis' epic novels and ourselves: We are royal as children of the King (1 Peter 2:9) , we will one day rule with Christ (Revelation 20:6), we have been given weapons and armor to help us in the battle of life (Ephesians 6:10-18), and at times, we still struggle with doing what we're told versus doing what will bring us immediate satisfaction (Romans 7:22-23). (What is Turkish Delight anyway?)
One of the most striking scenes in the movie is (naturally) the battle scene toward the end. The White Witch orders her army to charge Aslan's army. They take off across the valley, weapons drawn, shouting. But what struck me was what Peter ordered his army to do. Rather than running straight into the battle as soon as the enemy did, the army under Peter's command did exactly what today's verses talk about. They stood firm. They waited for instruction, and they trusted their commander.
At least three separate times, God, through Paul, tells us to "stand firm". 1 Thessalonians 2:15 simply says to stand firm in the teachings we receive from godly leaders. In I Corinthians 6:13 and Galatians 5:1 and we're told that standing firm in our faith will keep us on guard and will keep us from falling back into slavery to sin. The word used in all three of these verses is steko. The idea is to persevere, persist and to keep one's footing. It speaks of a determined effort to stay standing while being attacked. It also speaks of standing still, feet firmly planted, able to resist a force pushing against us. If you've ever played a game like King of the Hill, you know the concept - standing still allows much greater resistance than when running at (or away from) someone.
In these verses, it is not our own spiritual strength or power that keeps us standing firm. In fact, it's quite the opposite. It is only in surrendering our will, and our stubborn determination to help ourselves that we find the will and determination to stand up to attack. It is our faith in God, His power, and Christ's death and resurrection that gives us the ability to stand still, quietly and calmly until our Commander tells us to do otherwise. And if and when He does give the order to charge, it is that same faith that will give us the victory, and again, not anything we do or are on our own. I find a lot of comfort in that thought. Our faith in Christ absolutely assures us the victory over sin and, someday, death. Now if only we could remember that in the heat of the battle.
One of the most striking scenes in the movie is (naturally) the battle scene toward the end. The White Witch orders her army to charge Aslan's army. They take off across the valley, weapons drawn, shouting. But what struck me was what Peter ordered his army to do. Rather than running straight into the battle as soon as the enemy did, the army under Peter's command did exactly what today's verses talk about. They stood firm. They waited for instruction, and they trusted their commander.
At least three separate times, God, through Paul, tells us to "stand firm". 1 Thessalonians 2:15 simply says to stand firm in the teachings we receive from godly leaders. In I Corinthians 6:13 and Galatians 5:1 and we're told that standing firm in our faith will keep us on guard and will keep us from falling back into slavery to sin. The word used in all three of these verses is steko. The idea is to persevere, persist and to keep one's footing. It speaks of a determined effort to stay standing while being attacked. It also speaks of standing still, feet firmly planted, able to resist a force pushing against us. If you've ever played a game like King of the Hill, you know the concept - standing still allows much greater resistance than when running at (or away from) someone.
In these verses, it is not our own spiritual strength or power that keeps us standing firm. In fact, it's quite the opposite. It is only in surrendering our will, and our stubborn determination to help ourselves that we find the will and determination to stand up to attack. It is our faith in God, His power, and Christ's death and resurrection that gives us the ability to stand still, quietly and calmly until our Commander tells us to do otherwise. And if and when He does give the order to charge, it is that same faith that will give us the victory, and again, not anything we do or are on our own. I find a lot of comfort in that thought. Our faith in Christ absolutely assures us the victory over sin and, someday, death. Now if only we could remember that in the heat of the battle.
Monday, June 23, 2008
On True Brokenness
There are different kinds of brokenness. Some things that are broken are beyond repair, like a shattered windshield. Some things are repairable, but will always show signs of their brokenness, like a cracked vase. Still other things are broken to make them better the way a crooked limb can be made straight only if it is first broken. And then there is the thing that can fall into all three categories, sometimes almost simultaneously - our hearts. Events, circumstances and situations can break a heart beyond repair. Abuse can, and so often does, do just that. Perhaps the premature death of a loved one can leave visible scars, even after the grieving process is "complete". But the brokenness that leads to healing, I believe can only be brought about by the hand of God working in a person who is willing to allow Him to do what must be done. Psalm 34:18 says, "The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit."
There are verses in the Bible that we can sometimes read and try to use as proof that we are right and God is wrong. For me, Psalm 34:18 is one of those verses. So many times I've cried to God that He's supposed to be close to me because my spirit feels crushed. But often, that crushed feeling was being caused by rebelliousness, bitterness, or even self-centeredness. Far less often was my crushed spirit caused by the only thing we should ever allow to crush us: the weight of unconfessed sin. The KJV replaces "crushed" with "contrite", which, according to Merriam-Webster means "feeling or showing sorrow and remorse for a sin or shortcoming". Replacing the word "crushed" with "contrite" brings this truth to light: God is quick to forgive and comfort the one who is truly repentant of his or her sin. There have been many times I've felt crushed, but far fewer times have I been contrite, and have then wondered why God isn't "close". It's in those times of "crushedness", when I would have been best served by a contrite spirit, that I've lashed out at God for being unfair, for not caring, or for punishing me for some sin I can't figure out. Irony at it's best, I think. In my self-righteous rants at God, I've been sinking deeper and deeper into the quicksand of sin, while all the while, He's been there holding out His hand for me to grab if only I would shut up long enough to realize that my struggling was only making me sink deeper.
Satan, the father of lies, leads us to believe that we are always right. He tells us that God does not, in fact, have our best interests in mind. Maybe God is too busy with other people to be close to us. Maybe He has given up on us because we've fallen into the same sin one too many times. Or maybe, the Bible was only written for other people and that it doesn't count for us, for one reason or another. I think I've said this before, but Satan lives to discourage us. He wants our lives. Self-centeredness, bitterness, and doubt, or worse, depression, addiction, and suicide are tools he uses to try to take back the children of God. He knows he's defeated, but it doesn't stop him from fighting tooth and nail to try to take back those he can never have.
God is close to the truly brokenhearted, and saves those who repent of their sin, reach out, and accept his offer of help and salvation. We only need to do that once to be assured of our forever salvation. But there are those days when we need to turn from the sin that is once again trapping us in ourselves, take the hand of our Father and let him help us back onto the solid ground of His truth and love. We can not lose our eternal salvation, but an unwillingness to be contrite when we sin can make our lives on this earth absolutely miserable, as can dwelling on past hurts or tragedies. It is only when our eyes are focused on the face of our Father that we will know his closeness and be fully assured that we are safe in his arms both now, and for all of eternity. And in His arms is where we find our hope and our joy. Yes, brokenness hurts, but if it leads to healing, it is absolutely worth the present pain.
There are verses in the Bible that we can sometimes read and try to use as proof that we are right and God is wrong. For me, Psalm 34:18 is one of those verses. So many times I've cried to God that He's supposed to be close to me because my spirit feels crushed. But often, that crushed feeling was being caused by rebelliousness, bitterness, or even self-centeredness. Far less often was my crushed spirit caused by the only thing we should ever allow to crush us: the weight of unconfessed sin. The KJV replaces "crushed" with "contrite", which, according to Merriam-Webster means "feeling or showing sorrow and remorse for a sin or shortcoming". Replacing the word "crushed" with "contrite" brings this truth to light: God is quick to forgive and comfort the one who is truly repentant of his or her sin. There have been many times I've felt crushed, but far fewer times have I been contrite, and have then wondered why God isn't "close". It's in those times of "crushedness", when I would have been best served by a contrite spirit, that I've lashed out at God for being unfair, for not caring, or for punishing me for some sin I can't figure out. Irony at it's best, I think. In my self-righteous rants at God, I've been sinking deeper and deeper into the quicksand of sin, while all the while, He's been there holding out His hand for me to grab if only I would shut up long enough to realize that my struggling was only making me sink deeper.
Satan, the father of lies, leads us to believe that we are always right. He tells us that God does not, in fact, have our best interests in mind. Maybe God is too busy with other people to be close to us. Maybe He has given up on us because we've fallen into the same sin one too many times. Or maybe, the Bible was only written for other people and that it doesn't count for us, for one reason or another. I think I've said this before, but Satan lives to discourage us. He wants our lives. Self-centeredness, bitterness, and doubt, or worse, depression, addiction, and suicide are tools he uses to try to take back the children of God. He knows he's defeated, but it doesn't stop him from fighting tooth and nail to try to take back those he can never have.
God is close to the truly brokenhearted, and saves those who repent of their sin, reach out, and accept his offer of help and salvation. We only need to do that once to be assured of our forever salvation. But there are those days when we need to turn from the sin that is once again trapping us in ourselves, take the hand of our Father and let him help us back onto the solid ground of His truth and love. We can not lose our eternal salvation, but an unwillingness to be contrite when we sin can make our lives on this earth absolutely miserable, as can dwelling on past hurts or tragedies. It is only when our eyes are focused on the face of our Father that we will know his closeness and be fully assured that we are safe in his arms both now, and for all of eternity. And in His arms is where we find our hope and our joy. Yes, brokenness hurts, but if it leads to healing, it is absolutely worth the present pain.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
