Living with a Consumed Heart

Featured

Nail Your Faith

May I tell you a story from the gospel of John?

There was a man who was a royal official, a person of importance in his community of Capernaum. His position no doubt brought him privileges and made certain he had whatever he needed in life. However, his problem could not be solved with riches or influence. His son was sick, very sick. His money could pay for the best doctors available, but that had proven futile as his son’s weak frame lay on his bed wasting away. Hope nearly extinguished, the man heard that Jesus had returned to Cana.

He was aware of the gossip that had spread throughout the region. Jesus, the son of a local carpenter, had been traveling the countryside teaching and making grand claims about His ministry. Some people were saying that he was a good man or even a prophet sent from God. Some even said that He was a charlatan leading the crowds to error. But the one detail no one could deny was that miracles happened wherever Jesus was. The man had heard rumors of blind men seeing after Jesus had touched them. He had listened to the whispered tales of healed lepers and paralyzed men who left Jesus’ presence walking on their own two feet.

So that morning as he stood in the bedroom doorway watching his son sleeping, the small chest rising with each labored breath, he made up his mind. He did not know if the rumors about Jesus’ miracles were true, but it was a glimmer of hope in the bleak situation. It might cost him his reputation, but he knew he had to try. If he could just get Jesus to come with him to his house, then maybe the boy would live.

He pulled on his sandals and cloak and headed out into the early morning sunlight, walking quickly but steadily down the familiar path out of town. Cana was about twenty miles distant, but the urgency in his heart kept his pace quick on the dusty road. His mind whirred with questions. What if he couldn’t find Jesus? What if Jesus was too busy to come back to Capernaum right away? What if the stories he had heard were just stories and the miracles had not happened?

As he reached the small town, the man made his way to the crowded marketplace and began asking if anyone had seen Jesus. Soon he had the information he needed and made his way through the streets to the place he had been directed. As he rounded the corner, he saw a crowd gathered around the doorway of a small house. He pushed his way through the people until he could see Him standing in the center of the throng.

At first glance, Jesus seemed very ordinary, much like every other man there. But as He turned his head and looked into the man’s eyes, he felt like all the doubts and questions that had haunted his journey were bare before the Savior’s eyes. He dropped his gaze and fell to his knees before Jesus. Stifling the sob in his voice, the man told Him about the helpless child who was hanging between life and death. He begged for Jesus to come with him and heal his son. Jesus sighed as he looked down at the man, ““Will you never believe in me unless you see miraculous signs and wonders?” (Jn 4:48)

“Please.” the hoarse whisper rose from the man’s lips. Tears welled up in his eyes and ran in hot rivers down his face. He no longer wondered if Jesus could do wonders. He did not want to see some sensational sign. He just wanted his son to live. For a long moment, the Lord stood silently looking at the man before a gentle smile crossed His face. It seemed like His eyes had seen what He was looking for—faith. He pulled the man to his feet and put His hands on the man’s shoulders. “Go home,” Jesus instructed. “Your son will live.”

The man took Jesus at His word and departed. (John 4:50, NIV) Relief washed over the man. The heavy blanket of doubt was gone. He found himself smiling back at the Lord and laughter bubbled up inside his chest. He threw his arms around the Lord and whispered his thanks. As he made his way back to Capernaum, his step felt lighter. The sun was sinking low as he neared the city, but he recognized the form walking toward him. It was one of the men who worked in his house. The smile on the man’s face was confirmation of the truth he already knew. His son was going to be just fine.

The man took Jesus at His word. I felt those words as I read them from the Bible sitting on my kitchen table. They sank into my spirit like a stone tossed into a pond, starting a ripple at impact before gravity took them deeper. This man’s narrative is tucked succinctly in the last nine verses of John 4. It is the drama of a desperate father coming to the Lord and finding mercy, but it is also more than that. This man had a problem he could not solve no matter what he tried or no matter how influential he was, and in his helplessness did the one thing that made the greatest possible effect. He sought out the Lord.

This man’s journey of faith is one that we have to take again and again in our lives as Christians. All of us face difficulties and challenges in life that are bigger than us. This is simply part of the human condition. We all stand before giants that we cannot conquer in our own strength, and they likely have different name tags on their chests for each of us-–depression, anxiety, rejection, abandonment, sickness, perversion, confusion. This list could go on and on, but the emphasis cannot remain on the giant roaring its threats in our face. The focus must shift to our choice on how to handle what we are facing.

In my own life l admit that when I face giant problems, my first instinct is to try to figure out the solution myself. I will reason using logic as a sword. I will seek the advice of those who have had success in their own battles. I will read books to gain insight. At times, I even try to ignore the problem hoping it will go away. Let me assure you that each and every one of these tactics are of very limited effect, and some are completely fruitless. The truth is that life doesn’t always fit in nice compartments and is frequently unpredictable.

The problem with my strategies is that at my very strongest, I am pitifully weak. I suffer fatigue when the battle is long term. I am limited by my own intellect and capacity of understanding. I find that I am insufficient to face giants—but the Lord is not! He Who flings planets into orbit and sparks suns into flame lacks no power. (Gen 1:1) He never needs to stop and take a break (Ps 121:4) God’s thoughts are not like ours, bound by the gravity of our situations. (Is 55:9) He has the vantage viewpoint of eternity. The words of the prophet Isaiah sum it up perfectly, “Have you not known? Have you not heard? The everlasting God, the Lord, The Creator of the ends of the earth, Neither faints nor is weary. His understanding is unsearchable.” (Is 40:28) When we face impossible circumstances, problems too big for us to handle, giants roaring threats in our direction, the only credible decision to make is to seek the Lord.

This man in John 4 made the wise choice, to seek the Lord when he could not save his son by his own power. However, the part of his narrative that was remarkable was the way he nailed his faith on nothing more than the words that Jesus spoke. When you read the gospels, especially the book of John, you will find a culture looking for a sign, a miracle that would prove Jesus’ identity and authority. The Pharisees, the priests, the scribes, and even the Jews in the streets of the cities in which He ministered were watching the Lord to see what sensational thing he would do next– blind eyes opening, loaves and fish multiplied, former dead men walking and talking. But in the midst of a people waiting to be wowed by the supernatural power of God operating in Jesus’ ministry, this man chose a different mindset. He stood before the Lord in his mess, his pain, his fear, his helplessness,and when Jesus told him that his son would live, he decided to believe Him. He simply took Jesus at His word.

I don’t think it is too difficult to connect the dots to our own culture in the American church. We are people hungry for the supernatural. You can see it in the entertainment we watch. We tend to be swayed by the sensational. Conferences touting well known speakers and worship leaders draw big crowds. People get excited about a minister who calls out prophetic words. We may not like the parallel, but we are just as desirous to see Jesus’ signs today.

Yet, I have to believe that the Lord is still looking for those who will dare to take Him at His word. What if we decided that Jesus is enough, even when we don’t see the extraordinary miracles or experience the sensational manifestations of His presence? What if we simply nailed our faith into the words that He spoke and stood firm when the winds of circumstance blow? Faith is the currency of heaven, and belief that does not demand that God prove Himself is the highest form of faith.

When the enemy roars that you are unworthy or unloved, fix your faith to the word that says that if you have believed in His name, He gave you the right to become a child of God. (Jn 1:12) When your load seems heavier than you can bear, settle your heart on the truth that you can cast your cares upon Him for He will never allow you to be shaken. (Ps 55:2) When sin seeks to entangle you and confusion leaves you reeling, be assured that if the Son sets you free, you are free indeed. (Jn 8:36) No matter what you are facing, Jesus is enough. Nail your faith to His word.

Pray with me?

Father,
We want to please You with our faith. We choose to take You at Your word and allow it to have the final say in our lives. We don’t need You to do signs to prove Yourself. We trust in Your goodness and mercy.

Featured

The Heavens Declare

The heavens declare the glory of God; and the firmament shows and proclaims His handiwork. (Psalms 19:1)

As often as I have read this verse, I have had this picture in my head of a young David sitting on a grassy knoll by his campfire, sheep resting nearby as the last rays of sunlight fade from the western sky. As the stars twinkled into view on the ever-darkening canvas of the sky, the shepherd boy was awed by the beauty of creation and the power of the One who imagined and executed such a display. Surely, David’s heart burned as he sang under the canopy of stars, “The heavens declare the glory of God…”

That is a lovely picture, simple worship springing from a heart gazing toward heaven. However, the scene the psalmist described is far from simple. The faint stars that David watched twinkling in the night sky are ignited gasses fueled by nuclear fusion reactions in their cores. The star that is closest to the planet he was sitting on is about 4.3 light-years distant, a little over 25 trillion miles away. The dance of the moon is physics in motion, the work of gravity keeping the rocky orb bound in its earthly orbit.

And though David could not have known it sitting on the hill outside of Bethlehem that night, the complex technologies of the Hubble and James Webb space telescopes have revealed distant nebulas, icy comets, swirling planets, and galaxies beyond number. The beauties and wonders that were not seen that night are far more numerous than those that made the shepherd sing in awe filled worship. When I consider the complexity and vastness of the universe, I must join the song, “The heavens declare the glory of God, and the firmament shows and proclaims His handiwork.”

David looked at the night sky sitting outside Bethlehem and worshiped God in simplicity. I sit with my phone in hand looking at images of far away galaxies and worship in complexity. God received worship from both of us, but I have a suspicion that David may have had a better grasp on the majesty of the Creator than I did.

Complexity can be very stressful. Life just seems complicated these days. We have innovative technologies that allow us to access any knowledge available to any man at any time day or night. We have scientific abilities to decode and analyze everything from the marvel of human DNA to the weather patterns that bring the warm spring breezes. The old adage states that knowledge is power, but maybe such a great quantity of knowledge so easily obtained leads to the illusion of control.

If I have a problem, google will find me an answer. Is there a symptom that I feel in my body? A simple search can provide medical sites with research spanning decades. When I face a difficulty in life, the unending data waiting at the tips of my finger promises answers and solutions. Surely someone online has advice on how to handle the situation. Of course, there is also the wealth of information I can find on social media. These platforms provide me with Biblical exhortations from facebook prophets, allow me to view vacation pictures from distant acquaintances, let me peruse improved cupcake recipes, and read shocking news articles of human suffering all in easy 15 second bites..

Before I realize that my time is being eaten, hours have passed on my phone or computer screen. Complexity did not actually bring answers or provide peace. It just gave me more variables to consider. All the while, my prayer closet remains empty, though that is the most likely place that any answer will be found. Paul wrote: Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God. (Phil 4:6)

Complexity can keep me out of the presence of God by offering me the chance to figure life out on my own. The Lord doesn’t need my help or advice to solve the problems and unravel the difficulties I face. Instead, He waits patiently for me to lay aside my striving and ask for His help. He offers simplicity to me,and to all those who will receive it. Simple faith in a God so complex, powerful, good, and sovereign frees us from the tyranny of having to understand everything that lies ahead of us. I don’t need all the answers, I just need to know that God has them.

Tonight as I am typing, stars so far away that I will never see their light burn in the darkness while hidden planets dance in their orbits. I know neither their names nor their compositions, and it would not change anything if I did know. Distant galaxies can keep their secrets tonight. As for me, I think that I will put away my devices. The sun has dipped below the horizon and I may do some simple stargazing tonight. As David said, the heavens declare the glory of God.

Featured

Emmaus Walk

It was the first day of the week and Jesus had risen from the grave. Women came early and found the empty tomb. Angels in white robes told them not to seek the living among the dead and that Jesus was alive indeed. Peter had run to the garden grave to find only linen burial cloths. (Luke 24) Resurrection day was live and in motion.

But there, in the middle of the excitement and wonder of that day, is this sidebar from the action that seems somehow disjointed. There are two disciples, one named Cleopas and the other unnamed, who packed up their belongings and headed down the dusty road toward Emmaus, a city about 7 miles from Jerusalem. We don’t have many details about the trip, but we have enough.

The two men walked on the dusty road side by side, talking quietly about what they had seen and heard over the last week. When Jesus joined them, they didn’t even recognize Him. He just fell in step with them and leaned into their conversation. As they strolled, the men filled Him in on all that had transpired. They told Him about plotting priests, Roman executioners, a bloody crucifixion, and a borrowed grave. They shared the hopes they had held, that Jesus was the long-awaited Messiah who would liberate their nation, hopes that had been crushed as they watched Him suffer and die. Finally, they explained the astonishment caused by the women claiming that the same Jesus they had seen buried was somehow alive.

I imagine Jesus smiling as He walked beside the men and began teaching them verse after verse of scripture from the writings of Moses, to David’s psalms, then through the prophets. Line upon line, He outlined the plan of God to redeem not merely Israel but all of mankind by the suffering of His anointed Son. He spoke of blood purchased salvation, a throne in heaven, and a coming kingdom, and as He talked their hearts burned in their chest. When Emmaus came into view, the men begged Jesus to stay with them longer. As they sat down to eat, Jesus blessed the meal and broke the bread with His nail scarred hand. At that moment, the spiritual blindness that kept them from recognizing Him along the path fell away. Immediately, Jesus was gone from their sight and they headed back to Jerusalem.

I have so many questions about this story when I read it. First of all, why did Cleopas and his companion set out on their trek when news of Jesus’ resurrection had just reached them? Wouldn’t hanging around in Jerusalem until the matter was settled make more sense? I suspect the walk to Emmaus happened because their decision had already been made. Jesus had been publicly executed and that image was seared into the minds of the disciples. They had walked boldly with Jesus for the last three years, but now they were hiding out in the upper room. Fear had them hemmed in– fear that those plotting priests and the angry mob they had incited would not be content with stopping Jesus alone. What if they planned on rounding up the entire group?

Fear was probably not the only emotion that was thick in that upper room. Shame and regret would have been present as well. As the hiding disciples remembered the passion and zeal they felt while walking and talking with Jesus, the pain of their own self-preservation would have been agonizing. When He needed them most, they had scattered.

Then there was the weight of those crushed hopes and broken dreams, hopes that Jesus would somehow break the back of the Roman oppressors and cause Israel to rise back to the position of being a national superpower. All these things had lain heavy on the hearts of these disciples for the last three days. My guess is that a couple of days in, Cleopas and his buddy had quietly decided to head home and give up those grand thoughts of significance and destiny that had started them on that journey with Jesus.

But the greater issue this account raises to me is the way Jesus responded to their walk out of Jerusalem. This was arguably the most important day in human history, the day that Jesus rose from the dead. There were important things to be done. He needed to ascend to the Father and offer the sacrifice of His own blood on the altar of heaven as the High Priest of a new, better covenant (John 20:17, Heb 9:12). Jesus had to lead captivity captive and bestow gifts on men (Eph 4:8). Surely a three hour long walk on the dusty road to Emmaus was not as urgent as these things.

Not to mention, there were so many important people to whom Jesus could have spent His day choosing to show Himself alive. Of course those remaining eleven chosen apostles whose names we all recognize needed a visit, along with His mother Mary. But what about Pontius Pilate, Herod, or Caiaphas? Wouldn’t a visit from the formerly dead Messiah change the landscape of Israel’s political scene? Wouldn’t Jesus’ pierced feet strolling through the temple have shaken up the religious crowd ?

However important those things and people seem to be in my opinion, Jesus had a different priority. Jesus decided that the most significant way to spend resurrection day was to take a long walk with Cleopas and his unnamed companion. He chose to spend His afternoon teaching scripture to these two men who had misunderstood His mission and lost heart in the aftermath of His crucifixion. The Good Shepherd went after His sheep.

Isn’t that just like the Lord? In my own life, I remember times when shame and rejection weighed me down after a painful divorce when I had prayed (and decreed and declared) that God would give reconciliation and save my marriage. I have felt shaken at the graveside of a beloved sister and questioned why God would allow such unfairness to shadow my path.

There have been times that my faith was placed squarely on what I wanted God to do for me, so certain that I knew what outcome would be best. I even confess that I have prayed and begged, “Not Your will but mine be done.” And I have wept at the death of dreams and aspirations that looked good to me, but ran askew from God’s plans. When the wrong door closed or the correct door refused to open, I too, put on my shoes and headed back toward the safety of what worked for me in the past, back to Emmaus.

Those bitter moments were the times that Jesus drew near. Though my eyes could not see His form, the Lord came and walked beside me matching my every step. He poured the oil of His Presence into my wounded soul. He gently reminded me that He has seen far more of the journey ahead than I know and that He has far greater things in store than I can imagine. He sat with me while I cried and complained, then soothed away my anxious tears with His gentle peace.

Who am I? I am just a disciple, I am not important or extraordinary in any way, but Jesus has made me a priority. He has never given up on me or been too busy to be my Companion. That gives significance to my journey. The Good Shepherd still walks down Emmaus Road, and for that I am profoundly grateful.

Live with Passion

I love to read the Bible narrative about the man Moses. He had given up on his dream of freeing his people from Egyptian bondage and had settled into a simple life of tending his father-in-law’s flocks. As he led the sheep in search of pasturage on the backside of the desert, God called to him from a burning bush and Moses’ life was changed forever. Following the instructions God gave him. Moses faced down the leader of the Egyptians, the political superpower of the day. God did wonders in the land, bringing one plague of judgment after another on Egypt, until the Israelite slaves walked out of the land in freedom.

Despite the epic nature of Moses’ encounter with God in the desert and his subsequent journey, the part of his life that grips me is that he never “encounters” God again. Let me explain. The dictionary defines an encounter as a meeting that is unexpected, casual, or brief. Moses did encounter God on the rocky side of Mount Sinai that day, but he was never casual about maintaining the divine connection. Instead, Moses was intentional and passionate about God’s presence at every juncture in the biblical narrative. He engaged God in conversation and relationship for the rest of his life. He lived with a consumed heart, ever pressing into the presence of God. Moses was ignited in front of God alone and burned before Him alone.

But as much as I like the story of Moses, he was not the leader who brought the Israelites into the land of Canaan as their inheritance. It was his protégé Joshua who walked across the Jordan River with the people into Canaan. Joshua was Moses’ young servant, attending his physical needs, following his instructions, and waiting for the man of God to move. (Ex 24:11) When Moses was nearing the end of his life, the Lord didn’t have far to look to find a man who was fascinated with His presence. God instructed Moses to appoint Joshua his successor. (Num 27:18)

Joshua stood in front of Moses and grew fascinated with the God that held the man in His grip. As he watched Moses gaze in wonder, He began to do the same. He lingered in the Lord’s presence in the tent of meeting after Moses had gone back to the people. (Ex 33:11) He began to carry the fire that burned in Moses’ heart. Joshua didn’t start the journey in the spectacular way Moses did, but the journey still took him into spectacular exploits for God and for His people.

So who are you, Moses or Joshua? Maybe you burn before God alone. Then DO IT! Pursue it! Burn in your prayer closet and refuse to live bored in front of a holy God. Make meeting with and engaging Him the high mountain you choose to climb over and over. God is still looking a Moses who will live consumed by His presence.

But maybe you feel like your spiritual life has been a shallow experience. If you find yourself yearning for more, rest assured that God is setting you up to go deeper. Ask the Lord to place someone in your life who stirs your heart for God when you’re with them, and then lean into that relationship when He answers. Glean wisdom from their words and follow their example. Let their fire ignite inside of you. Refuse to live without passion. God’s eyes still look for a Joshua.

The Name

My thoughts were scattered and unfocused. I had many things on my to-do list, and far too little time in which to accomplish them. I had meant to spend time praying but my mind was occupied with laundry and dusting, getting things ready for work the next day, and the million voices of daily life that vied for my attention. I quietly began speaking to God, whispering the Lord’s prayer as I moved from task to task.

“Father, which art in Heaven, hallowed be Thy Name,” the words rolled off my tongue with practiced ease. I stopped my busy hands and lifted my heart to God. I was gripped by the question, “What Name, Father? What Name is it that I am declaring is sanctified, to be reverenced, held as Holy?”

A name is more specific than a mere word. I may say boy, and any young man I encounter would fit that description. But when I say the NAME of my son Braden, there is a flood of memories and emotions that accompany it. I have time invested into that name, years of smiles, tears, laughter, and joy. I have energy invested into that name, caring for him as a child, making sure he had food and clothing, driving him to Sunday school and cheering at ballgames. My heart is invested in that name through a history of Christmas mornings and birthdays, family meals and vacations, days that seemed filled with love and long nights of prayer. The name Braden is precious to this mother’s heart.

So I sat that day with my eyes on the sky, awestruck by the thought of the God I was addressing so casually. The Jews say that God’s Name is too Holy to be spoken and refer to Him as HaShem (The Name) or Adonai. What Name can I use to address my God that is hallowed, sanctified in my experience, when I speak to Him? He is not some idol on a shelf to be referred to as a “god”. He is so much more than that.

I have time and energy invested into this relationship with Him. My emotions and memories are tied up in Him. I have a history with Him that is deep and rich. It is filled with Sunday morning church services and children’s bible classes. It is laced with years of studying the Word and nights lying on my face in the secret place with His glory beaming over me. It is woven into the very fabric of who I have become, every heart beat keeping time to eternity’s drum, every borrowed breath a whisper of worship. What Name is deep enough to hold the flood of Who I have known Him to be?

To Hagar, the despised and disposable slave girl running from an unfair situation, He was El Roi, the God Who Sees her. To Abraham, his heart breaking as he held a knife to Isaac’s throat, He was Jehovah Jireh, the God Who provides a substitutionary sacrifice. To the Israelite children, leaving the familiar sands of Egypt and facing an unknown journey, He was Jehovah Rapha, the Healer Who kept them year after year in the wilderness. To Moses, standing over the battlefield with arms that felt like lead, He was Jehovah Nissi, The Banner that waved as a victory ensign over the soldiers waging war in the valley. To Gideon, filled with fear after standing before God, He was Jehovah Shalom, peace. To David, heart pounding as he raced toward Goliath’s threats of death, He was Jehovah Rohi, the Shepherd Who protected and guided his steps.

But Who is He to me? I can surely agree with these ancient men and women. He is the God Who sees me (and knows me but loves me anyway). He is the God Who has provided for my needs in miraculous ways. He is the God Who heals me, Who brings me victory, Who is my peace. He is the Shepherd Whom I have learned to trust with my life. I have a history that can testify that He is all these things and more.

Perhaps the truth is that no single name I can articulate is sufficient to hold the wealth of Who He is and has been in my life. He transcends my bankrupt vocabulary. He is Who He said He was, I AM.

Throw Away Your Matches

For the god of this world has blinded the unbelievers’ minds [that they should not discern the truth], preventing them from seeing the illuminating light of the Gospel of the glory of Christ (the Messiah), Who is the Image and Likeness of God.
(1 Corinthians 4:4, Amplified)

Can I tell you about my trip to Mammoth Cave in Kentucky? I went with a group of friends in college many years ago, before diaper bags and children and the many responsibilities that life multiplied. The stairway down into the caves had been built with safety rails to help less graceful explorers (me, I mean me). Those same metal rails had been bolted into the rock walls in several strategic places through out the long deep cavern trail. The paths was worn smooth by visitors and were lighted by electric lights strung along the rocky walls to illuminate the passageways.

My friends and I had walked some distance under low ceilings when we came upon a large open room of the cavern. After a few moments of gazing, the tour guide invited us to sit on one of several rough wooden benches low enough to feel the cool dirt floor. She told us some history of the cave and its exploration, then cautioned us to remain seated during her demonstration of how the first people found the area. Slowly the electric lights dimmed and shut off one after the other from far down the cavern until the entire area was completely dark.

The pitch black stillness seemed foreign and disorienting. As if darkness was tangible, I could feel it here heavily pressing against me. My eyes were useless and only the feeling of the worn wooden bench and cold damp earth beneath lent me a sense of orientation. It was quiet in a way that belied the group I knew sat around me. I felt alone, afraid to move.

That extreme darkness lasted only a few moments until the guide struck a match. It was a glorious golden light and gave me a sense of wonder as my eyes adjusted to it. The fire flickered on the cavern walls and transformed it into a place of magical colors and movement. Though the electric lights were quickly turned on along the length of the cavern and we continued the walking tour, that moment has stayed with me for many decades.

It has been an illustration in my own life of how powerful just a little light is when it is struck in a dark place. As I used to teach the children in Sunday school, we must let our little lights shine wherever we go. However, recently it has had another meaning in my life. That small match was beautiful and showed so much splendor in that cavern for that brief moment, but it could not illuminate the shadowy details of my surroundings. It provided a glimpse of what lay around me, but it was not sufficient to fully define the worn walkway that wound on through the rock. It lasted for only a few minutes before burning out, incapable of illuminating the pathway for as long as I needed to eventually walk out of the cave and into the blinding light of day. The fire of the match was beautiful in that dark cavern, but it was the power flowing to the electric lights that gave me confidence to continue walking.

Friend, we are creatures of the light. We crave sunlight and sunny days. We walk into a dark room and reach for the light switch. Strike a match in a cave and our eyes are transfixed by it. We want to see what is in front of us, where we are going, any obstacles or threats that might hinder or harm us. Our sense of sight is dependent on light hitting our eyes. Lacking light, we must go slowly feeling for each step before we take it.

It is true of our physical life, but we are more than bodies going through the motions of life. Life must be about more than getting up and going to work so we can come home and pay bills. We yearn for meaning, for relevance in the time we are allotted on earth. We seek it out in so many ways, chasing pleasures and experiences, climbing the ladders of careers, always reaching for a new possession or relationship. We want to know our next step, our next move, our next season…and we want it to matter. We are like people in the dark lighting matches and trying to see the path we should take.

The Apostle Paul wrote that the god of this world has blinded the minds of those who do not believe lest the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ shine on them. (2 Cor 4:4) Did you read that like it is written? There is a devil loose in the world and it serves his purposes for men and women to live in the dark, separated from the life of God. It isn’t that the devil hates us so much as he hates the God Who loves us and created us in His own image. So he blinds their minds, handing match after match for them to light. The ploy is to keep them busy reeling from one empty attempt to grasp and hold happiness to another, never giving pause to consider that there is a true God Who loves them.

The gospel of Jesus Christ is good news! God loves us! God loves us so much that the cross was an acceptable price to pay so that we could be with Him eternally. Jesus is God the Son. He was born of a virgin, lived a sinless life, and demonstrated the heart and power of God the Father in all He did and said. When He died on the cross, He was an innocent Man paying the penalty for our sins. When He rose again on the third day, He was the victorious Savior able to secure our entrance into the kingdom of Heaven.

The gospel of Jesus Christ is no flickering candle or electric bulb whose power can be switched on and off. It is white-hot, brilliant glory that has the power to illuminate every dark corner and bring clarity and definition to every situation in which we find ourselves. He is the Light of the world and invites us to come out of the darkness and walk with Him. (Jn 8:12) If you believe in Him, you can throw away your matches and pick up your Bible. He will lead and guide you every step of your journey.

Ready to pray?

Lord,
We thank You for loving us like You do. You are glorious and so is Your Word. We ask for You to shine Your light into every corner and space in our lives. We want to walk in the light with You.

The Witness

Photo credit: Priscilla Du Preez https://unsplash.com/photos/0kVQh23Jspo

Many months had passed since the men had left their families and belongings and marched into Canaan with their kinsmen. The good pasture land on the eastern side of the Jordan River had been given to them. Their end of the deal was that they would go with the rest of the people into the Promised Land until it had been conquered. So when Joshua led the Israelites across the river and into war, the men of the tribes of Gad, Reuben, and Manasseh kissed their families goodbye and marched in with them.

They carried swords and shields, and fought in each skirmish of every campaign Israel encountered in Canaan. Finally the day came that they had been anticipating. The men stood quietly and listened to Joshua’s directions as they had faithfully done before each battle that the nation had faced. But on that day, no plan of attack or strategy meeting happened. The conquest of Canaan was very nearly accomplished and Joshua was sending the men home. The vow was fulfilled. Their assignment was considered complete.

Home! I imagine that home was a beautiful word that day as it echoed through the troops like a sigh of relief. I am sure that laughter filled the camp as the men started gathering their supplies. Instead of battle plans, talk turned to gardens and fence building. Their families were waiting just on the other side of the Jordan, and with them the expectancy of a new life.

So what did the men do when they crossed the river? Their wives and children were within walking distance. The homes they had long dreamed of returning to were just down the road. They were standing on the verge of the lives of which they had dreamed. Instead of running ahead after crossing the Jordan, these men stopped and started gathering stones.They built an altar, a giant replica of the one that sat in the outer court of the tabernacle where the nation worshiped with offerings.

They didn’t hurry back to the walled cities where their wives and children waited. They didn’t go check out their livestock and how the grapevines were doing. The men decided that they were not willing to let go of the God whom they had seen do wonders on their behalf on the battlefields. They remembered Jericho’s walls falling flat before the shouting parade of Israelites. They recalled how great armies with glittering weapons had amassed to destroy them, but had been decimated by the smaller troops of Israel. They knew the secret to their success was the God Who watched over them and now that they were returning home, they were unwilling to relinquish their trust in Him.

The altar stood like a beacon beside the Jordan that could not be ignored. Before long, the envoy of the High Priest Phinehas arrived to deal with he thought was a national tragedy waiting to happen. He stood in front of the altar and spit out questions, “Don’t you remember what happened when the people turned away from serving God in the wilderness? Are you going to rebel against God and bring judgment on the nation again? Are you going to choose to worship rocks and devils instead of the living God? What in the world are you thinking?” (Mommy’s paraphrase)

Their answer changed the narrative and put his fears to rest. This giant altar would never be used for a burnt offering. No sacrificial blood would be spilled on it, neither would fires light up its surfaces. No one would call on a pagan god in that place. They were Israelites and they would only worship at Moses’ tabernacle with the rest of the nation. This altar was a signpost for all to see that they had the right to come to that sacred tent, to the one true God. This was their WITNESS.

The altar was their way of making a memorial that would declare to everyone who saw it, both in their day and the days to come, that they were connected with the tabernacle and the One Whose presence hallowed that tent. It was a declaration of their intention to worship God alone and certified their identity as part of God’s chosen people. Building that replica of the altar was these men staking their claim to the blessing that would come throughout the generations as atonement for sin was made on the true altar sitting just inside the curtains of the tabernacle of Moses. When the men walked near the river and saw the altar, they would be reminded how God took care of them and fulfilled His promises. When their children asked about it, they would tell them about the God Who delivered them from Egyptian bondage and gave them the good land in which they lived. The altar was their witness.

I think these men had an insight about how easily the everyday tasks of living can eat our memories and undermine our faith if we are not intentional. Ask any Christian who sits in a pew on Sunday mornings if God has blessed them and they will quickly affirm that He has. The problem is that Mondays don’t start with a praise team singing just the right song. Tuesday afternoons don’t necessarily fit neatly into a three points and a poem sermon outline. Car repairs, work pressures, school schedules, electricity bills, and a hundred other every day, mundane issues cause us to lose sight of the goodness, the grandeur, the wonder of our relationship with God.

Can I be transparent? Life is busy and I am so easily distracted. I can slide into the mundane activities of life, day after day, and forget that I have been brought out, brought up, and brought through some things by the hand of God. Sometimes, I just need to remind myself of the battles I have faced in life and how the presence of the Lord has always been the secret to my victory. I just need to intentionally remember what Jesus has done for me.

I remember that I once lived in the chokehold of depression and darkness, but the Lord delivered me. He didn’t do it in one swipe of His hand. He did it one day at a time, one prayer, one scripture, one song at a time. I may have a bad day or hard season, but I am never hopeless because the God of Hope walks with me.

I remember the searing pain of rejection after a nasty divorce that was once a constant ache in my chest, but the Lord healed me. He didn’t do it by slapping a bandage over my gaping wound and painting a smile on my face. Instead, Jesus poured Himself out for me over and over in my prayer closet until my heart was whole again.

I remember times when sickness and injury laid me low, but Jesus the Healer had other plans. I remember when my income was less than the bills I owed, but Jesus my Provider made a way for all my needs to be met in unexpected ways. He has wiped my tears with gentle mercy, corrected my missteps with loving rebuke, kept me when I should have perished. And in this season of telling my son goodbye as he moved nearly a thousand miles away, He is still doing what He does best–being my Shepherd.

If it takes a daily trip to look at a cross in order for me to remember all that the Lord has done for me, then let that cross be my WITNESS! I am born again, and the cross of Jesus is my birth certificate in the kingdom of God. I am a child of God, not because of some moral excellence or spiritual gymnastics on my part. It is because the shadow of the cross lies heavy on my life. I have a bright future full of promise because Jesus’ blood was shed for me to have it. The cross is always going to be a big deal in my life. It is my WITNESS of the goodness of God.

Child of God, can I be bold enough to ask you if this has been your testimony too? Has the Lord delivered you from something? Has He pulled you out of darkness and given you a life flooded with golden light? Has He broken the heavy chains of sin that were pulling you to an early grave? What would you add to my list? I think it is time for us to slow down and choose to remember where we have been and Who has brought us out. We need our memorial, a witness of the kindness of God that has been lavished on us. We need to lift up the cross.

Pray with me?

Lord, we pause in Your presence tonight to thank you for all that You have done for us. You light up every dark place in our lives, and we worship you. Thank You for Your suffering on the cross of Calvary. It is the witness of our victory.

On a hill far away stood an old rugged cross,

the emblem of suffering and shame;

and I love that old cross where the dearest and best

for a world of lost sinners was slain.

So I’ll cherish the old rugged cross,

till my trophies at last I lay down;

I will cling to the old rugged cross,

and exchange it some day for a crown.

Lay Down the Stones

I opened my Bible to the familiar passage I had been studying. I read again how the religious authorities dragged this woman from the bed where she was lying with a married man, through the streets while people watched, and into the courtyard where Jesus sat teaching the people. They proclaimed her sin in the shadow of the Temple, “Teacher, this woman was caught in adultery, in the very act.” (John 8:1-11)

That is what we call her, the woman caught in adultery. Her identity, whoever she was with all the complexity of her personality, likes and dislikes, her name and occupation, the experiences in life that had brought her to that moment of compromise are swallowed up by this one thing that she had done. We call her by her sin.

It is something we do all the time. We call ourselves by our weaknesses and mistakes. We name ourselves by our sins and failures. We don’t need an angry mob to accuse us in front of God because we do it ourselves. How many times have we started our prayer by telling God who we really are instead of what He thinks?

“God, it’s me again and I am a mess.”

“God, here I am and I screwed up again.”

“God, are You tired of me yet, because I am mad at myself?”

Do you know what I think tonight? God didn’t call that disheveled woman in that courtyard by her sin. He knew who she was that day and He still calls her by her name. He still remembers her playing as a child, her looking up at the stars in wonder as an adolescent, her kneeling by her bed to pray as a young woman. He saw her heart, and though she fell into her temptation, He still loved her.

Jesus refused to be part of the make-believe trial in which the self-righteous men tried to force Him to participate that day. They had already made up their mind when they pulled her into the streets. They were judge and jury and she was guilty. There was no defense. She deserved the stones they clutched in their fists. They only brought her to Jesus to try to provoke Him into making sentence on her life. Instead, His final word to her was grace, forgiveness, and freedom. “Neither do I condemn you; go and sin no more.”

My friend, lay down the stones in your hands and let yourself go free. Rest easy in the knowledge that God offers you no condemnation tonight. He knew all about you, your weakness and frailties, when He called you to Himself. He knew every mistake, every sin you would ever commit, and He still wanted you. You can come boldly to His throne of grace. (Heb 4:16) He doesn’t call you by your sin, He calls you by your name.

Pray with me?

Father, we come to You in Jesus’ name and we are so grateful for the mercy and forgiveness You give us so freely. We live in the grace and freedom that You offer us. Empower us to live right lives in front of You. We just want to please You. We love You, Lord.

I See You There

https://unsplash.com/photos/aQibH7Z5AVQ?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditShareLink

Exodus 17:6 I will stand there before you by the rock at Horeb. Strike the rock, and water will come out of it for the people to drink.” (NIV)

I see You there
In the company of complainers,
Amidst the murmuring
Hearing whining instead of worship.

You see the people
Thirsty but not thankful
In self-pity but not praying
Imperfect and impatient

But instead of giving up on them
Instead of striking them down
Instead of walking away

You stand as Moses takes his rod
And strikes the Holy ground
On which You have stood and spoke
and burned like a consuming Fire

And You bring water from the rock to meet their desperate need.

It reminds me of another moment

When You stood
In the company of complainers
Amidst the murmuring
Hearing weak religious rhetoric

You see the people
Full of pride but empty of hope
Pitiful but prayerless
Imperfect and impatient

But instead of giving up on them
Instead of striking them down
Instead of walking away

You took the stripes on Your sinless back
And gave mankind all that was needed
To live holy, blameless, acceptable
In front of a holy God.

You were wounded for my transgressions, bruised for my iniquities,
the chastisement of my peace was upon You, and by Your stripes I am healed.

Pray with me?

Lord, this thirsty, needy, undeserving soul sees You and I run to You, the Rock of my salvation. Thank you for all You have done for me. You are the Source where I find all that I need to live. I drink deep of Your living water today.

Under the Blood

Photo Credit: Daniel Joshua unsplash.com/photos/LwZ7hlAvI2Y

Frogs and lice, flies and boils, hail and locusts. When God was about to bring out the children of Israel , He sent plague after plague on Egypt to disrupt their lives, destroy their pride, and reveal the inadequacies of their false gods.

The final judgment that God sent on the Egyptians would break their very strength. He told Moses, to get the people ready to go because Pharaoh was going to thrust them out of the land. God was going to pass through the land and the firstborn of every house would die.

To distinguish between the Israelite and the Egyptian homes, the people were instructed to take a lamb and kill it. The blood of the lamb was to be painted with hyssop on the lintel and doorposts of the Israelites’ homes. God made a promise that when He saw the blood, He would pass over that home and no judgment would fall in that house.

You know, when the Egyptian taskmasters walked down the street that day, the blood painted on the doorposts didn’t mean anything to them. The Egyptian ladies probably walked by and said, “Look at that! What a mess they are making of their homes!” The blood on the doorposts didn’t mean anything at all to them. Oh, but when God walked down that street, the blood meant something to Him! He looked at the blood and said, “This one belongs to Me! I have a covenant agreement with this one! No judgment will fall in this place because I see the blood!”

If you are a Christian, you are part of the blood bought church of Jesus Christ! There has been some blood shed for you and it was far more effective and powerful than a lamb. The precious Lamb of God was nailed on a rough Roman cross, and His blood ran down the wood and onto the ground of Calvary. When you accepted Jesus as Savior, that blood was applied to your account. It was painted by a holy hand on the doorposts of your heart.

When the world looks at you, that blood doesn’t mean a thing to them. They may even stand back and tell you that you are crazy to lay down your rights and pleasures to serve the Lord. They may persecute you. They may come with swords or guns because you call on the name of Jesus. That precious crimson stain over your life doesn’t mean anything at all to them.

But I have to let you know, it means something to your God! When He walks through the land, God sees the blood of the Lamb on your doorposts and says, “This one belongs to Me! This one has been purchased and redeemed! No judgment will fall in this place because I see the blood!”

Let me encourage you today to look up and thank Jesus for His precious blood. You may see judgment coming all around. The news may be full of bad news and terrible crisis, but you have the blood on your doorposts! The economy may be in decline, but you have the blood on your doorposts! You are the Body of Christ and judgment passes over you!

Pray with me?

Father, we just have to stop and give You some praise! Thank you for the blood of Calvary. We are not ashamed of it or the Gospel. We lift up the name of Jesus in our community and over our lives! We stand identified with the blood!