Category: Purpose

Do Not Harden Your Heart

Background Passages: Mark 6:30-52 and Ephesians 1:15-19a

You’ll remember the story.

The disciples just returned to Bethsaida on the shore of the Sea of Galilee after a quick mission trip of their own where they taught and preached the gospel. As they began sharing how God had been at work in their efforts, the bustle of the crowd grew distracting.

Jesus suggested a quick boat ride to the far shore where they could spend a quieter time in reflection, rest and praise.

Their leaving the town did not go unnoticed, however. As their boats rowed across the water, the crowd followed, walking along the shoreline trying to catch up to the teacher and healer. By the time Jesus and his disciples reached the beach, a large crowd had already gathered, hoping to hear the words of the master teacher.

Jesus felt compassion toward them, according to scripture, and began to teach them “many things” about God and what it means to live as his people. As the late afternoon came, one of the disciples interrupted Jesus and suggested he call it a day.

I’m paraphrasing, but they said, “We’re in a remote place and it’s late. These folks are going to be hungry. We need to send them on their way so they can find something to eat.”

Jesus suggested that rather than send them away, the disciples should feed them. The idea struck them as impossible. The crowd was too large and their funds too small. Jesus asked them what they had which they could share. Andrew, bless his heart, found a young boy with a pouch holding five small loaves of bread and two small fish that his mother had prepared for his lunch that morning. “That’s it, Jesus.” He probably said. “That’s all we could find.”

Sometime later, the disciples stared for a long moment at the 12 baskets of loaves and fishes gathered after Jesus took the boy’s meager meal, blessed it and began giving food to the disciples to distribute to the crowd of 5,000 men and their families.

Can you imagine how stunning it must have been to see the unfolding of this miracle?

After taking care of the hungry, Jesus insisted that the disciples get in the boat to return to Bethsaida. They pushed off from shore, yammering in excitement about what they had just witnessed. After dismissing the crowd, telling them to return home, Jesus found a quiet place on the mountainside to rest and pray, giving thanks to God for the blessings that unfolded that day.

The winds picked up during the early morning hours and the moon glistened off the water below. In the distance, Jesus could see the disciples struggling to make headway against the wind and waves. Scripture tells us they were “straining at the oars.”

Mark picks up the story from there.

Shortly before dawn he (Jesus) went out to them, walking on the lake. He was about to pass by them, but when they saw him walking on the lake, they thought he was a ghost. They cried out, because they all saw him and were terrified.

Immediately he spoke to them and said, “Take courage! It is I. Don’t be afraid.” Then, he climbed into the boat with them, and the wind died down. They were completely amazed, for they had not understood about the loaves; their hearts were hardened.

I went a long way through scripture to get to that last line that I’ve overlooked every time I’ve read this story. “Their hearts were hardened.”

That’s a phrase I most often associate with Pharoah. Moses, on God’s behalf, appealed to Pharoah time and time again to let the people of Israel return to their homeland. Each time the Egyptian king refused, God sent a plague of blood or frogs (that would have done it for me), or gnats, or flies to prove his power and persuade the reluctant ruler.

Each time, however, scripture in Exodus tells us that Pharoah “hardened his heart.” Then, when God had given him every chance in the world to respond positively to him, God took his choice away. God, then “hardened the heart of Pharoah,” sealing his fate.

When we see that term in scripture, it usually means a stubborn refusal to obey God’s teaching or to acknowledge him as Lord. In the Old Testament, it suggests such self-centeredness that one simply turns his back repeatedly on God. Refusing to listen. Refusing to obey.

In the New Testament and even today, to harden one’s heart is to stubbornly and consistently reject Jesus as Savior and Lord, despite every effort the Holy Spirit makes to open one’s heart to the possibility of salvation through Christ. That’s true, the story I just shared suggests there is more to it than that.

In our passage in Mark, we see the disciples sitting in a boat in the middle of the Sea of Galilee with hardened hearts after Jesus demonstrated his power and authority over all things, not once, but twice in the space of 12 hours. His disciples. His followers. People who believe in him.

Once Jesus climbed into the boat, Mark tells us the disciples were “completely amazed.” Whatever Greek word is used in this instance, is evidently not easily translated into English. Different versions of the Bible capture the phrase as “completely overwhelmed,” “completely astounded,” “so baffled they were beside themselves,’ “completely confused,” or “utterly astounded.”

The reason for their profound astonishment was not that Jesus walked on water and calmed the sea. Look what Mark said, “…they had not understood about the loaves.”

Talk about a left turn. I didn’t see that coming. What did they not understand about the loaves?

The disciples were believers. They trusted Jesus as Lord, but they still had much to learn about who he was and what it means to live for him. Such a description sounds eerily familiar to my life…and I suspect to yours.

Though they had come a long way in their understanding, they often missed the point of what Jesus did and why he did it. Jesus did an incredible miracle by creating food for as many as 15,000-20,000 men, women and children from a measly sack lunch. John tells us that Jesus even took the time shortly after this incident to explain that the feeding of the 5,000 was an object lesson, pointing to him as the “bread of life.”

The disciples, however, got in the boat that night, marveling at the miracle, but not truly seeing the one who worked the miracle for who he really is. They missed the revelation of his deity…as God in flesh. It could have been such a turning point in their lives, yet they missed it.

That’s why they were then amazed when he did other God-like things such as walking on the water or calming the sea. Their hearts stubbornly refused to see what was standing right before their eyes, as the water lapped at his ankles. God, through Jesus, is capable of doing anything regardless of the lack of resources or the difficulty of the circumstance.

Their hearts were hardened.

And, there lies the lesson I needed to hear. The language about hardened hearts is usually reserved for God’s enemies, people to whom God is a stranger. Sometimes, those of us who know and trust Jesus as Lord, still have a hard time believing that God is God and that God is still at work.

Stubbornly refusing to believe what we see that reveals his “Godness,” his goodness and his presence in our lives. Hardening our hearts even when we see him doing God things.

Here’s where the story gets so real to me. The disciples didn’t miss the miracle of the loaves. They were in the big middle of it.

They saw Jesus pray. They saw him take the food he had available and turn it into a feast. They handed out basket after basket and each time they returned to Jesus he handed them another basket until everyone was fed.

They saw the grateful faces of the hungry and heard their joy and laughter. They gathered up the leftovers, each loading a full meal to take with them on their journey.

I can be in the middle of God’s work and still miss seeing God in it simply because my heart is not paying attention. I marvel at the miracle and miss the miracle worker.

Paul wrote a letter to the Ephesian church that sounds like a perfect way to focus on keeping our hearts from being hardened to the exceptional grace and work of God in Christ.

“For this reason, ever since I heard about your faith in the Lord Jesus and your love for all God’s people, I have not stopped giving thanks for you, remembering you in my prayers. I keep asking that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the glorious Father, may give you the Spirit of wisdom and revelation, so that you may know him better. I pray that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened (in other words, not hardened) in order that you may know the hope to which he has called you, the riches of his glorious inheritance in his holy people, and his incomparably great power for us who believe. (Ephesians 1:15-19a)

It was Paul’s prayer for his friends in Ephesus and 2,000 years later, I’m making it my prayer for my life and for yours.

An Oasis for Authentic Worship

Background Passages: Psalm 84:1-2; Romans 12:1-2

Sitting in Mr. Wallace’s sixth grade world geography class made an impression on this West Texas farm boy. As nice as he could be, he had a dry way of teaching, reminiscent of the economics teacher played by Ben Stein in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off…”Anyone? Anyone?”

While not overly exciting in his presentation, he opened up a world of places I assumed I’d never get to see in person.

While I admit our farm didn’t get a lot of rain, I was fascinated by the world’s great deserts and even more intrigued by the oases that dotted the desert landscape.

The Jubbah oasis sits in the middle of Saudi Arabia’s Nefud Desert, a smudged green basin in an endless sea of sand dunes. Archeological evidence suggests that humans have continuously occupied the site for at least 10,000 years, a testament to changing climate patterns and human resilience.

The freshwater lake at Jubbah exists as it has for thousands of years, an oasis in the middle of a vast desert emptiness thanks to a quirk of local geography.

Due west of Jubbah sits Jebel um Sanman, a massive sandstone formation rising abruptly 1,300 feet above the desert floor. The strong westerly winds rushing across the flat desert terrain hit the rock, breaking around it like water cut by a ship’s bow. For much of human history, the rock has protected the lake, leaving the oasis unscathed, a respite for weary and thirsty travelers.

Can you imagine the nomadic lifestyle of the region that depended upon finding that green oasis in the middle of such a vast and empty space? Your life depended on finding water to drink and shade as a respite from the desert heat. I imagine they longed to see it come into view. Yearned for it.

The thought of oasis came to mind this week as I read Psalm 84. It is a song probably sung by those Jews on pilgrimage to Jerusalem, a trek they were required to make at least once a year for the sole purpose of worshipping at God’s temple. The Psalm is a song of yearning, longing for the chance to be in God’s house to offer sacrifices of praise and worship.

As I read the Psalm, it made me think. Is church, being with God’s people engaged in worship, my oasis?

Do I truly long to be in God’s house? Do I yearn for his fellowship? Is it really my heart’s desire to seek him out, to worship God as Jesus said, “in truth and spirit?” Do I sincerely long to be in his presence?

Look at how the psalmist’s deepest desire is to spend time with God.

How lovely is your dwelling place, O Lord Almighty. My soul yearns, even faints for the courts of the Lord; my heart and my flesh cry out for the living Lord…Blessed are those who dwell in your house. They are ever praising you. (vs. 1-2, 4)

His soul aches so much to be in God’s temple that he grows faint. It’s not just something he wants to do. Worshipping his Lord is something he must do. When his heart cries out for God it expresses the hunger of a starving man or the thirst of one lost in the desert.

Picture a newborn infant, longing for its mother’s milk. That baby cries with its whole body. Arms punch out. Legs kick. Its face a mask of agony, crying out for what it needs. That’s the psalmist’s image. There is such an aching desire to be in God’s house. His whole being screams for it.

When I read those words, I realize how much I take for granted my presence at church every week. While I don’t consider it an obligation, I’m not sure I always approach worship with the same sense of urgency expressed by the psalmist. Where the only bad thing about worshipping in church each Sunday is that I have to count the days before I can do it again.

The psalmist talks about how he envies the birds that make their nests in the temple because they live each day in God’s presence and under God’s protection. I like the image it conveys. The birds lay their eggs and raise their young inside the walls of the temple courts. It is a place for their young to be safe. Isn’t that a great metaphor?

It’s easy as parents of children and teenagers to get so involved in other activities that church becomes less of a priority. My wife and I certainly felt that tug when our boys were young. Still, when Moms and Dads set an example by “building our nests” in God’s presence and under his protection, when our children see the value we place on worship, worship becomes priority for them.

Church ought to be a place for families. It ought to be a place where the “village” helps raise the young. As I grew up in that little First Baptist Church in Ropesville, I knew in some way every adult there was my parent…Sunday School teachers who helped lay out what God required of me. I knew they all wanted me to grow in my understanding of God’s love and grace. I certainly knew if I misbehaved, those “parents” would correct me and then let my parents know of my poor choices. They helped raise me.

Any child raised in the church and loved by God’s people is blessed.

The Valley of Baca referenced in verse 5 translates in the Hebrew more closely to the valley of weeping…a place of trouble and sorrow. The people of God on pilgrimage to Jerusalem to worship in the temple had to pass through this normally dry and barren place. It represents the difficult part of their journey to Jerusalem.

However, along the way, God provided rains that made pools of water that refreshed and rejuvenated the worshippers as they journeyed to meet in God’s house.

Blessed are those whose strength is in you, who have set their hearts on pilgrimage. As they pass through the valley of Baca, they make it a place of springs; the autumn rains also cover it with pools. They go from strength to strength before each appears before God in Zion. (vs. 4-7)

This introduces the concept of God and God’s house as an oasis, a respite from life’s burdens. Blessed…happy…content is the person who finds fulfillment and renewal when worshipping God.

I like what the psalmist said about those whose have “hearts set on pilgrimage.” Our faith journey is a pilgrimage from its beginning until it’s end. Always learning. Always growing. Always gaining understanding about God’s grace and his love for us. Always figuring out from one day to the next what it means to live a Christlike life. The pilgrimage is not always easy, but it is always best when walked with God…when we find God’s house as an oasis in the middle of life’s desert.

As I sit here this week, pondering my own worship experiences, I admit that I don’t always walk into the sanctuary in my church with a heart longing to be in God’s presence. At least, not in the same sense of yearning expressed by the psalmist. I must do better. If my heart is not ready to experience God, I find I don’t always find respite from my troubles.

Here’s the truth, though. God is my oasis. He is that point of renewal and rejuvenation. Just like that desert nomad, however, if I miss the oasis, if I don’t come with a heart yearning for God, I won’t find the waters that quench my thirst or find respite in the shade of God’s loving presence.

It starts with my attitude. It starts in my heart. It starts with my approach to worship.

The passage says essentially, “I can find contentment when the highlight of my week is when I get to worship God within a body of believers who yearn just as much to be in God’s presence as I do. While worship is a matter between God and me, it is greatly enhanced in the presence of others who have also set their hearts on the pilgrimage.

Remember Jebel um Sanman. The 1,300-foot rock redirects the wind and sand that would overwhelm and consume the lake at Jubbah that gives life to those who rest by its waters. Without the rock, there would be no oasis, no life.

Better is one day in your courts than a thousand elsewhere. I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God than dwell in the tents of the wicked. For the Lord is my sun and my shield; the Lord bestows favor and honor; no good thing does he withhold for those whose walk is blameless. Lord Almighty, blessed is the man who trusts in you. (vs. 10,12)

God and his church (the people of faith, not the building) stand as that protective rock that redirects the ill winds that blow our way. Better is one day in worship to God than a thousand days doing anything else. That’s the way it ought to be!

I get another chance tomorrow to find rest in God, my oasis, through Jesus his son. So do you. We’ll find that together only when we come with hearts prepared to worship., yearning for the chance to commune with our father in heaven.

So whether you are with me at South Main Baptist Church or among a congregation of your own choosing, listen as Paul tells us what true worship looks like.

I urge you therefore, brothers, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God—this is your spiritual act of worship. Do not conform any more to the pattern of this world but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then, you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.” (Romans 12:1-2)

I pray you’ll find your oasis this Sunday.

Life After Birth

Background Passages: 2 Corinthians 5:16-20: John 3:1-21

Fifty years ago, while a student a Texas Tech University, I worked as a salesclerk at the Baptist Bookstore in Lubbock. It didn’t pay great, but the flexible hours allowed me to work around my class schedule.

For an avid reader, the downside of working in a place filled with books is that it is a place filled with books, all of which were offered to employees at a sizable discount. found myself spending a good portion of my paycheck each month building my personal library.

I still have many of those books on my library shelf. While straightening one of those shelves this week, I came across a book called Dancing at My Funeral, written by Maxie Dunnam. I probably haven’t read anything from this book in 30 years. With my Dad’s memorial service fresh on my mind, I thumbed through the pages, drawn to a chapter entitled, “I Believe in Life After Birth.”

Because a funeral draws our attention to life after death, I found the title of the chapter intriguing enough to sit and read. Dunnam talked about the danger of sleepwalking through life after making our commitment to Christ. To cut a long chapter short, he wanted his reader to understand that Christians miss the joy of our promised “life abundant” when we don’t let our faith really challenge and change us.

One of the passages of scripture he referenced in 2 Corinthians was a passage I had considered as the basis of my writing this week. It may be coincidence, but I like to think it was a God thing. Here’s the verse.

Therefore, if anyone is in Christ; the new creation has come; the old is gone and the new is here! (2 Corinthians 5:17)

In one sense, what Paul is saying is clear. Once we put our faith and trust in Jesus as savior and boss of our lives, we get to start again. We get to change the patterns of our old life that do not reflect the character and image of Christ to become a new creation…a new person intent upon living for him. The old way of life must pass, letting God lay out a new path before us.

A new creation has come…

Paul’s choice of words here is intentional. It’s like waking up in the morning to a new world. Look at what he wrote earlier in his letter to the church in Corinth.

For God, who said, “Let light shine out of darkness,” made his light shine in our hearts to give us the light of the knowledge of God’s glory displayed in the face of Jesus Christ. (2 Corinthians 4:6)

Can you see the connection Paul tries to make? The God of creation found in Genesis is the same God of our salvation. Just as God spoke all of creation into existence by the power of his word, God speaks in us a new creation through the powerful words of his gospel…through the saving work of Christ, his gospel of truth and the indwelling presence in our hearts of his spirit.

This new person that God creates in us is a light that shines in the darkness of a sinful world. A testimony to the saving and transforming power of Jesus, but only if we allow him to change us from the inside out.

It is here that Dunnam makes a connection I’ve never considered. He equates this “new creation” in 2 Corinthians with “new birth.” Not so much a do-over as a new start. A change. It’s what Jesus tried to explain to Nicodemus in John 3.

You probably know Nicodemus. He’s the Pharisee who came to Jesus late at night to discuss theology and got a lesson in faith. While we often paint the Pharisees dressed in black, hypocrites whose faces look like they bit into a sour lemon, there were some sincere folks among their ranks. Nicodemus stood as one of the good ones. Faithful. Devout. Open. Curious.

That’s why he could not discount the teachings of this Galilean rabbi who said some unsettling things. There was something in Jesus’ words that bore a ring of truth that Nicodemus could set aside.

You see Nicodemus bound his life to the law…every jot and tittle. Obedience to the law and doing good was his path to salvation. Yet, he must have found it stifling. Dull. Drab. Jesus taught differently, challenging everything Nicodemus held dear and promising life in its fullest.

It is somewhat surprising that a man who regarded faith as a measure of obedience to the law and had given his life completely to it would seek out Jesus at all. Though the Bible doesn’t tell us how many times Nicodemus had listened from the edge of the crowd as Jesus taught in the temple or synagogues, he surely heard. What he heard made the religion he practiced pale in comparison to the promises that Jesus taught.

This is what prompted the Pharisee to seek out the teacher. Careful, though, of his standing among the group, Nicodemus wanted a private audience with Jesus, covered by the veil of darkness.

When he arrived at Jesus’ camp, he engaged in a little polite small talk. Nicodemus, impressed with Jesus’ teaching and the miracles he performed, made a point to tell him so. It was his opening statement in what he presumed might become a lively debate. Jesus responded with a statement that led Nicodemus down a rabbit hole into a wonderland of confusion.

Hear the conversation that pushed Nicodemus over the edge.

“I tell you the truth, no one can see the kingdom of God unless he is born again.”

“How can a man be born when he is old?” asked Nicodemus. “Surely, he cannot enter a second time into his mother’s womb to be born.”

Jesus answered, “No one can enter the kingdom of God unless his is born of water and the Spirit. Flesh gives birth to flesh, but the Spirit gives birth to spirt. You should not be surprised at my saying, “you must be born again.” The wind blows wherever it pleases. You can hear the sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So, it is with everyone born of the spirit.” (John 3:3-8)

As Jesus drew Nicodemus deeper into the truth, Nicodemus struggled to keep up. It was a lot to take in.

“…Just as Moses lifted up the snake in the desert, so the Son of Man must be lifted up that everyone who believes in him may have eternal life. For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only son that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. (John 3:15-16)

Jesus told him that no matter how hard you try to obey Moses law, you will fail. The only hope of eternal life is to be born again…to be changed through the unmerited grace and love of God

The truth that Jesus taught Nicodemus is the same truth Paul taught the Corinthians. You must be born again. We must set aside the old us in favor of the new us that is found in Christ.

So, I ask the question again. A question each of us must answer for ourselves.

Is there life after birth?

Jesus says there is life abundant.

I am the gate, whoever enters through me will be saved. They will come in and go out and find pasture. The thief comes to steal and kill and destroy. I have come that they may have life and have it to the full. (John 10:9-10)

Paul said there this life is alive.

When you were dead in your sins and in the uncircumcision of your sinful nature, God made you alive with Christ. (Col 2:13)

Think about the life Christ offers. Abundant. Alive.

It is the life we’ve been promised when we put our faith and trust in Christ. It will never happen, though unless we decide to be open to the possibilities. When we’re ready to surrender the control to which we so desperately cling. To say “Yes.”

Swiss psychologist Paul Tournier said that the “willingness to surrender is the pivotal point for becoming a whole person.” Being born again…becoming a new creation…is a plunge into the unknown. Faith let’s go. Faith surrenders.

Faith surrenders to a new perspective.

In the verse immediately preceding Paul’s thoughts about being a new creation, he calls upon all believers to look at the world differently.

So, from now on, we regard no one from a worldly point of view. Though we once regarded Christ in this way we do so no longer. (2 Corinthians 5:16)

Paul talks about this new creation we become, this life after new birth, so we can look at ourselves differently, though that’s certain a part of it. He also suggests that the new creation we become will enable us to see those around us with new eyes.

From now on, Paul says, we no longer see the world around us, the people around us, from a selfish perspective, but rather through the eyes of a loving father. To be a new creation is to see others…and even ourselves… as worthy of God’s love. That perspective matters. That perspective changes us. If we’re able to make that leap, how much would it change who we are and our perspective of the world around us? How much would it drive or temper our actions?

Faith surrenders to a new purpose.

As a new creation, Paul understood that our purpose changes as we change. Our new outlook propels us into a new purpose, one Paul calls the “ministry of reconciliation.” Look again at what he says in 2 Corinthians.

All of this is from God who reconciled us to himself through Christ and gave us the ministry of reconciliation: that God has reconciled the world to himself through Christ, not counting men’s sins against them. And he has committed us to the message of reconciliation. We are therefore Christ’s ambassadors, as though God was making his appeal through us.” (2 Corinthians 5:18-20)

Christ died so he might fix the broken relationship between us and God. To bring us into a reconciled relationship with our Creator. To be his representative in this alien world. As this new creation, he called us so we might help others be reconciled to God. Through the words we say to others. Through the things we do for others. Through the life we live for others.

Is there life after birth?

I answer with a resounding yes! It comes with a changed perspective and a challenging purpose. When we act accordingly, it is a life that is abundant and alive with possibilities, not just for you, but for all we encounter.

I’ve failed at the task far more often than I care to admit. I expect you have, too. Let’s together pledge to celebrate our life after birth, by committing to our calling in the ministry of reconciliation with a fresh perspective and purpose.

All Who Labor

Background Passages: Genesis 2:15; Ecclesiastes 3:9-13; Colossians 3:23-24; Matthew 11:38

From the time we are children, we eagerly anticipate holidays. Thanksgiving brings us a parade and a feast of turkey and dressing as it reminds us to express gratitude for all God has provided in life. Christmas excites us with its time of gifts and giving, of family and the celebration of Christ’s birth.

New Year’s Day brings its new beginnings and more than its share of doomed resolutions. Easter is a time for hunting eggs with the kids and wearing our Sunday best to church as we remember all Jesus did as his gift of salvation. July 4th is all about picnics and fireworks as it instills its sense of patriotism and love for country.

Then, comes Labor Day…with its day off and the certain knowledge that proper women can no longer wear white.

Labor Day, enacted as a national holiday by President Grover Cleveland in 1882, commemorates the labor rights established to protect workers from the exploitation of way too powerful corporations and greedy industrial moguls concerned only with profit. It recognizes the many contributions workers have made to America’s strength and prosperity. I’m often reminded on Labor Day to express my gratitude for those who do the dirty and necessary work to keeps our society functioning.

I’m grateful for those men and women in my life who taught me the value of hard work. My first examples were my Dad and every other farmer I ever knew in that small West Texas community where I grew up. Hard work was an expectation. A life commitment.

My Mom spent the early years of my life as an equally hard-working farmer’s wife. No one who hasn’t lived that life should scoff at that. It was never easy. Her later years were spent as a medical director of a retirement community where her skill and compassion brought comfort to her elderly patients.

My thoughts this Labor Day weekend are less about the holiday and more about the work we are called to do and how we are called to do it.

Work is hard. Whether we work at home, at school, on a factory floor, in a petrochemical plant, on a farm or in a nice, air-conditioned office, work can be difficult.

Unreasonable deadlines. Computer crashes. Difficult customers. Demanding bosses. Baffling regulations. The list of challenges faced in the workplace is endless. From labor shortages to the difficult decisions to let employees go, it never seems to get easier. Even at home there is always another dinner to cook, another pile of clothes to wash and a lawn that needs mowing.

Despite the fact that we may be doing work that we typically enjoy, there are days when you wonder if it’s worth the effort.

It wasn’t supposed to be this way. In the perfect world God created, work would have been, well, perfect because the workplace was perfect.

“The Lord God took the man and put him in the Garden of Eden to work it and take care of it…” (Genesis 2:15)

The life God planned for us went quickly off the rails because of sin’s devastating folly. The nature of work changed.

“Cursed is the ground because of you, in painful toil you shall eat food from it all the days of your life. It will produce thorns and thistles for you, and you will eat the plants of the field. By the sweat of your brow you shall eat your food until you return to the ground, since from it you were taken. For dust you are and to dust you will return. (Genesis 3:17-19)

Brutal!

The wisdom of Ecclesiastes describes the writer’s work experiences…the disillusionment that comes when his work leaves him unfulfilled.

I hated life because the work that is done under the sun was grievous to me. All of it is meaningless, chasing after the wind. I hated all the things I had toiled for under the sun because I must leave them to the one who comes after me. And who knows whether that person will be wise or foolish? Yet they will have control over all the fruit of my toil in which I have poured my effort and skill under the sun. This too is meaningless. (Ecclesiastes 2:17-18)

If that wasn’t sad enough, the writer continued to share his heart’s despair.

What do people get for all the toil and anxious striving with which they labor under the sun? All their days their work is grief and pain; even at night their minds do not rest. This too is meaningless. (Ecclesiastes 2:22-23)

His lament begins to sound like the gospel of the Rolling Stones, “I can’t get no satisfaction…but I try, and it try, and I try…

Let me stop there or we’ll be too depressed to get out of bed Tuesday morning. The writer of Ecclesiastes doesn’t completely despair. He doesn’t hit the snooze button on his alarm, refusing to get up for work the next morning. He tells us in Chapter 3 that there is a time for every activity under heaven.

What do workers gain from their toil? I have seen the burden God has laid on the human race. He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has set eternity in the human heart; yet, no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end. I know that there is nothing better for people than to be happy and to do good while they live. That each of them may eat and drink and find satisfaction in all their toil…this is the gift of God. (Ecclesiastes 3:9-13)

What changed in the writer’s heart?

It was the certain understanding that everything God created, even work, had its time, place and purpose. As we learn to trust him in all things, even work, we start seeing the work he has given us through our talent and skills as his work…doing good while we live.

So natural was this idea of work in God’s plan for us that when God sent his son to live and dwell among us, he toiled beside his father and brothers in the family business long before he began his ministry.

While the scripture tells us nothing about the 18 years between Jesus’ appearance in the temple as a 12-year-old and the beginning of his ministry as a man of thirty years, Jewish culture expected boys to begin working as apprentices in their father’s business. Joseph, Jesus’ earthly father was a carpenter, a worker in wood and stone.

It takes little imagination to feel the callouses on Jesus’ hands and see the muscles bulging as a result of many years wielding a hammer. You can see the tiny scars that represent every time the chisel slipped and cut his fingers. It takes little imagination to see the joy on his face as his friends and neighbors delighted in the house or table Jesus built for them with his own hands. It was a good work. A work God called him for when he sent him to Mary and Joseph. A work as much about his Father’s business at that time in his life as the redemptive work he would do later on the cross.

As he preached the gospel, Paul worked as a tentmaker to help pay his way. As someone who took pride in his work, Paul saw his vocation as an extension of his ministry. His way of setting himself apart from others as a witness for Christ. It was a word he extended even to the slaves of his day. This is what he told his brothers and sisters in Christ in the church at Colossae.

“Whatever you do work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters, since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving.” (Colossians 3:23-24)

We spent easily one-third of our adult lives working. Paul tells us to pour our hearts into our work. Give it our absolute best, even when we might feel mistreated. Work each day as if the Lord himself was your boss because, he says, “It is the Lord Christ you are serving.”

It is the apostle’s way of reminding us that in a broken world, work will never be what it was intended. The good news is that Jesus changes everything. When we begin to see that our work, whatever it may be, is an extension of our ministry and mission given to us by God, then we’ll see the true value of every hour spent in his service.

• Farmers feed and clothe.
• Teachers develop and teach.
• Doctors and nurses heal.
• Industry workers create and build.
• Homemakers love and comfort.
• Police offers and firefighters protect and serve.

I don’t care what you do for a living. Your work is rife with opportunity to be the hands and feet of Jesus, touching the lives of all you encounter. What we do on Monday through Friday cannot be separated from the one we worship on Sunday.

It is the Lord Christ we are serving.

I don’t think I fully appreciated that truth as a young man. Work was work. Ministry was ministry. It didn’t often occur to me that those worlds should exist in the same space. God opened my eyes during a Halloween poster contest at one of the schools in our district.

I had been invited to judge a Halloween mask contest at one of the elementary campuses in my school district where I served in a low administrative role. Most of the masks hanging on the wall were decorated elaborately with obvious parental help.

Standing with the principal who was also judging, we came across one mask that was little more than a Kroger paper shopping bag with a crudely painted face upon it. Holes were raggedly cut for the eyes and mouth.

Thinking nothing of it, I sarcastically told the principal that it was obvious the parents didn’t help on this mask. She gave me a wry smile and told me that the father of the little girl who made this mask was in prison. The girl had been removed from her home because the mother had a severe drug addiction.

That timid, third grade girl had been sent to live with two elderly grandparents. Shortly after her arrival the grandmother died, leaving the little girl in the care of a grandfather who lived his life confined to a wheelchair and a bottle of oxygen.

By the time she finished the story, I fought back the tears of my insensitivity and heard clearly God’s gentle reminder that I was in this business to serve him. That I was to be about his business while doing my business.

I spent a few minutes that morning, my heart broken, but at the same time buoyed, sitting and talking with a smiling little third grade girl whose only refuge in life was the classroom. Whose only stability was her teachers.

God rocked my world that day, opening my eyes to the possibility that every minute of my work was my field…and the field was ripe for harvest. He reminded me that every day presented chances to show his love and grace to people who needed to feel his touch through me.

I hope you’ve had that moment in your career when you began to understand that it is the Lord Christ you are serving no matter what your job or profession might be.

It’s easy to do just enough work to get by. I watched a few people do exactly that during my 40-year career. However, God asks something different of those who he calls his children. As you start your work each day, be reminded that the writer of Ecclesiastes said to recognize our work is a “gift of God and to “do good while we live.”

When the alarm goes off each day, remember that Paul said that “whatever you do, work at it with all your heart,” as if you’re really “working for the Lord.” Find ways to express his love through the work you do.

If you’re doing it right, I’m convinced work will always be difficult, but it will never be drudgery. There will be times when “Thank God It’s Friday” will be less in anticipation of a weekend of celebration and more a prayer of praise that you survived another week. However, if we work each day as if we’re working for God, then the burden will not be all that heavy. There will be joy in the labor.

As a carpenter and stonemason, Jesus knew what it meant to work long, back-breaking hours in the blistering sun. He knew the burden of responsibility would take its toll some days…especially if we remember that it is the Lord Christ we’re serving. I think that’s one reason he told those who would listen…

Come to me, all you who labor and are heavy laden and I will give you rest. (Matthew 11:28)

So as we enter this Labor Day holiday weekend, I pray you find the deserved rest and peace of Christ that will recharge your batteries and enable you to punch the clock on Tuesday with the resolve of one who knows for whom he is working.

Happy Labor Day!

Better Than Biscuits

Background Passages: Ecclesiastes 3:11, Isaiah 40:29-31 and Colossians 1:15-20

I saw this floating story around the social network this week in a Facebook post shared by my friend Kim Pressly. It’s a story about a visiting pastor who attended a men’s breakfast in the middle of a rural farming community, not unlike the one in which I was raised.

An older, sun-baked farmer, decked out in faded bib overalls was asked to say grace for the morning breakfast.

“Lord, I hate buttermilk”, the farmer began. The visiting pastor opened one eye to glance at the farmer and wondered where this was going. The farmer loudly proclaimed, “Lord, I hate lard.” Without missing a beat, the farmer continued, “And Lord, you know I don’t much care for raw, white flour.”

The pastor once again opened an eye to glance around the room and saw that he wasn’t the only one feeling a bit uncomfortable with the farmer’s prayer.

Then the farmer added, “But Lord, when you mix them all together and bake them, I do love fresh, warm biscuits.

“Lord, when things come up that we don’t like, when life gets hard, when we don’t understand what you’re saying to us, help us to just relax and wait until you are done mixing. It’ll probably be even better than biscuits.

“Amen.”

I suspect that little anecdote spoke to me when I first read it this week because there is a lot going on in this world that I don’t like. Current realities make life difficult. I suppose we own much of it. We’ve let those difficulties divide us as a people more deeply than I ever thought possible. The parts we don’t own, those things beyond our control, we sure don’t understand.

I hate what is happening to our country, our world, our churches, our lives. It is too often unattractive, unhealthy and unChristian. I don’t know about you, but I find myself growing tired of the buttermilk and the lard and the raw, white flour.

So maybe that old farmer is right. “God, help us wait until you are done mixing.”

I suppose the first Bible verse that comes to my mind is this:

“He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end.” (Ecclesiastics 3:11)

We can’t always see what God has done, nor can we always see what he is doing right now. We do know there is beauty in everything God has created. He orders all things. When we make our mistakes, he is constantly realigning our path with his will. When our world ventures off course, he is there to hold it together until his time is right.

We may not always understand why God allows for things to happen in our lives that cause pain, fear, and worry. However, we can trust that he is constantly at work to reveal his goodness and love amid the troubles of the day.

So, when I don’t like the buttermilk, I just need to realize the Master Baker is still in the kitchen.

If I can accept that God is in control and working through the mess on our behalf, then I can turn to Isaiah 40:29-31 and rest from the struggle and draw strength from his presence.

“He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak. Even youths grow tired and weary and young men will stumble and fall; but those who wait upon the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles, they will run and not grow weary. They will walk and not grow faint.”

What does it mean to “wait upon the Lord?”

Because we’ve spent so much time in the waiting room of a doctor’s office or in the line at the Department of Motor Vehicles to get our license renewed, we tend to think “waiting” is a passive experience. That we must somehow sit on our hands until God chooses to do something to fix the situation in which we find ourselves. In scripture, however, waiting on the Lord is a call for action.

When these words were spoken by God through Isaiah, the Israelites were in exile in Babylon and Jerusalem lay in ruins, it’s walls and buildings mere rubble. Their hopes and dreams shattered. Tired of their situation, they complained that God no longer seemed interested in their well-being; that he was disinclined to seek justice on their behalf.

Isaiah paints a different picture of God the Creator. He speaks of God giving power to those who are fainthearted and weary. He counters their complaint that God is too small of the situation. Isaiah reminds them, “Have you not known? Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth.”

God, Isaiah proclaims, “gives power to the faint and strengthens the powerless.” God is ready to share his power with those who call upon his name. All that is required of them is to “wait on the Lord.”

They were not to sit idly by twiddling their thumbs until God acted on their behalf. They were to wait upon him in confident trust and expectation that he was at work to restore them to the place he called them to be. To wait on the Lord is to actively put our hope and trust in him.

Hope, in a biblical sense, is not desperation. It is living out each day in the image of Christ as his hands, heart and voice. It is taking all we know of Christ and his teachings and doing our part to influence a world that’s trending in the wrong direction. It is actively serving and ministering to the hearts of those we encounter along the way.

Despite the turmoil that surrounds us, we are called to a hopeful expectation that God is still in the kitchen mixing together all the ingredients of the life he has called us to live in Him.

If we do our part in the waiting time, God promises to renew our strength. One commentary I read explained that the word used for “renew” in this passage is closer in translation to the word “exchange.” I like that mental picture.

Those who wait on the Lord do more than renew their strength, they exchange, instead, their faint or faltering strength for the unfailing power of God. Our weakness is replaced by his strength…our frailty with the power of the Creator God who never grows tired.

The beautiful imagery that Isaiah used gives perfect illustration to the uplifting power of God.

“They will soar on wings like eagles.”

An eagle soars to great heights not on the power of his own wings, but on the rising air currents that lift it higher and higher. The eagle’s own power gets him airborne, but to soar he needs the wind. Once he finds the current, soaring is effortless.

Our waiting on the Lord, our confident hope, is the personal action that gets us airborne. We soar when we find the Spirit’s wind that lifts us to new heights. When we find God’s spirit with us, soaring is effortless. We will not grow weary of the task laid before us.

Scripture reminds us that God is always mixing things together, working to bring good from every circumstance for those who love him and are called for his purpose. It is God who holds it all together.

The world is in a mess right now. I don’t like what I see and hear. It seems everything we hold dear is falling apart at the seams.

There is still a big part of me, however, that believes God is at work in the chaos.

Paul indicated as much to his letter to the Colossian church.

“He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation. For by him all things were created, in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or authorities — all things were created through him and for him. And he is before all things, and in him all things hold together…For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, making peace by the blood of his cross.” (Colossians 1:15-20)

Those who wait on the Lord put our confident trust in Christ, the image of the invisible God. That means in times of trouble we can fall back on his teachings to guide us because he has preeminence or authority over all things.

And, here is the part of this passage that speaks to the farmer’s prayer: “…in him all things hold together…and through him to reconcile to himself all things…making peace by the blood of his cross.”

The farmer got it right. All the things in life that I hate, the things I fear are tearing us apart, God knows about all of them. He is in preeminent and is holding life together. Keeping it all in the mix until the time when he can reconcile or bring everything back together to himself. Until we find the peace available through his sacrifice on the cross.

Here’s the deal though. Those things in the mix require one more ingredient. For God to turn those things I hate into something worth tasting, those who wait upon the Lord must be folded into the batter. Confidently expecting God to work in and through us to accomplish his plan and purpose, not only in our lives, but in the world around us. His work through us.

So, don’t grow weary as you look upon the complicated world around you. Our Lord is mixing and holding it all together. Wait upon the Lord. His work…our work…is not done.

I confident when he’s finished, whatever he’s cooked up will be better than biscuits.

Let Us Not Give Up Meeting

Background Passages: Matthew 16:13-19; I Peter 2:4-8; Hebrews 11:24-25

Jesus slipped to the grass from the flat rock upon which he sat as he spent the last hour in prayer. The canopy of trees under which he now reclined with his back against the rock sheltered him from the late afternoon sun. Jesus glanced at his disciples gathered in a loose cluster about 40 feet further down the hill. As they finished their prayers one by one, they talked quietly among themselves, breaking out a small loaf of bread and passing it around, satisfying their hunger.

Jesus looked from his disciples down into the town of Caesarea Philippi, a bustling city 30 miles north of the region of Galilee. He watched the frenetic pace of the people as they finished the work of the day and headed home. He lifted his eyes toward the sheer cliff on the north side of the city. It rose 150 feet above the lush, green valley below. He knew the stream gushing from the massive grotto on the western edge of the cliff were the headwaters of the Jordan River as it flowed south to the Sea of Galilee.

The cavern was said to be the birthplace of Pan, the Greek god of nature. Worshippers still brought their offerings of fruit and grain, laying them at the altar.

His vision shifted to the gleaming temple of white marble which Philip, the region’s ruler, dedicated to Caesar Augustus, the Roman emperor whom the people considered a god. Before these temples and altars were built, Jesus knew his history well enough to know the whole area stood as a center dedicated to the worship of Baal, the ancient Canaanite god.

It was a deeply reflective moment. Jesus contemplated the scene spread across the valley below. Considered all he had done during his ministry. Felt his gut tighten when he thought about the cross to come. Had anything he said and done made a difference? Before he began his final journey to the cross Jesus needed to know. Did anyone really know who he was?

He turned to his disciples quietly talking and laughing in the ease of friendships forged by common experiences. His words cut through the comfortable conversation. “Who do the crowds say I am?” They turned toward Jesus in a rustle of robes and shuffling feet. They were used to his probing. Knew an answer was required. “John the Baptist,” one blurted. “One of the old prophets brought back to life,” announced another. “Elijah,” another proclaimed.

Jesus glanced again at the city below, lost in thought for a moment. Then, he turned back to his disciples. “But what about you? Who do you say I am?”

Jesus held his breath, looking into the eyes of each of his closest friends. Their answers would make all the difference. Would he see blank stares of incomprehension? Would he catch so much as a spark of understanding that meant he had at least lit a torch in their hearts? He waited. Felt his heart thump anxiously in his chest.

How his soul must have soared when Peter stood among them, looked at his friends, then to Jesus, knowing that he answered for all of them. “You are the Messiah. The Anointed One of God.”

I wrote the above narrative almost three years ago. It is a favorite episode of mine from the life of Jesus. At the time I wrote it, I used it to talk about what that kind of faith commitment means. I was reminded of that devotional last week for a different reason when I read the following headline that popped up on my news feed.

“U.S. Membership Falls Below Majority for First Time”

A stunning statement, but not surprising. We’ve all seen the evidence.

The Gallup Poll provides interesting fodder for sociologists and students of American culture. Of the many things it has surveyed over the past 80 years, Gallup annually measures religious affiliations and church membership.

Gallup reported this year that Americans’ memberships in houses of worship dropped below 50 percent for the first time since the data was collected. In 2020, 47 percent of Americans said they belonged to a church, synagogue or mosque, a drop of 23 percent over the last 20 years.

At the same time, Gallup also showed that the United States remains “religious.” More than 70 percent of all Americans affiliate with some type of faith tradition.

So, the question begs to be answered. If 70 percent of us claim to be religious, why are less than half of us a member of a local congregation? Why is it that almost every church has a membership role that far exceeds its regular attendance? What does it mean for the church in the days to come?

I think the answers to those questions go back to that hillside in Caesarea Phillipi. After Peter made that astounding declaration of faith and Jesus breathed his sigh of relief, he turned to Peter with an amazing statement of his own.

“Blessed are you, Simon, son of Jonah, for this was not revealed to you by man, but by my Father in heaven. And I tell you that you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not overcome it.”

Jesus declared to Peter that because of his profession of faith he would be the rock upon which his church would be built. Baptist pastor Michael Stark said, “Our Lord was saying to Peter that he was the beginning of the new Israel, the new people of the Lord, the new fellowship of those believing on His Name. Peter was the first to both understand who Jesus was and to declare openly that truth.”

Peter is spoken of as the rock of the church in the sense that he was the first person to fully comprehend who Jesus was. While the Catholic church elevates Peter to a high status within the church, Peter himself never felt that way. He spoke often of being a “fellow worker” and a “bond slave.”

Don’t take that passage out of context. The rest of scripture declares that it is not just Peter who must be the rock of his church, but all of us. In his one of his own letters to the early church Peter wrote,

“As you come to him, a living stone rejected by men but in the sight of God chosen and precious, you yourselves like living stones are being built up as a spiritual house, to be a holy priesthood, to offer spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ.” (I Peter 2:4-8)

Do you hear what he said?

“You, yourselves, like living stones are being built up as a spiritual house…”

You and I, as believers in Christ, are the building blocks of God’s church.

Practically, we know that every building needs a solid foundation and quality materials. God laid a foundation of reconciliation to a sinful world. Jesus’ life and ministry, his work on the cross and his resurrection served as the faith cornerstone of the church.

In light of the Gallup report, how effective can that church be if we remove our stone from its walls?

I don’t know why so many are choosing to leave the organized church. Perhaps, the church has grown too tolerant in some cases; too intolerant in others; too self-righteous to some; and far too political in its extreme.

What I do know is that the cause of Christ is damaged every time one of us says, “I have had enough.”

We are a sinful and imperfect people…both inside and outside the church. When I use that as my measure, viewing the church only as a body of hypocrites, it’s easy to walk away.

I see those in the church as very much like me. Filled with fault. Trying their best to live according to God’s purpose. That’s when I find I most need the church. That’s when I find the church most needs me.

The headline made me think. Why do I stay involved when others choose a different path?

The Bible calls us to corporate worship and good work. We congregate so we can love and be loved. We congregate in order to serve others as Jesus served. In a world that easily rejects everything it means to live for Christ, I need the encouragement of fellow believers to keep from giving in or giving up. I find that encouragement in the gathering of the church.

The writer of Hebrews said it plainly:

“Let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds. Let us not give up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but let us encourage one another. (Hebrews 11:24-25)

To be sure, there are many believers of genuine faith who no longer belong to a specific congregation for a variety of reasons. They have given up their habit of meeting together. I don’t question that their faith is real and meaningful. However, I know what I receive by being active and involved in a local congregation. Therefore, I know what they are missing.

As a part of the church, I am loved. With all my faults and mistakes, as a part of the church I am accepted. As a part of the church, I have a place I can serve using the gifts God has given me. As a part of the church, I am taught the things of God. As a part of the church, I know I am where God expects me to be.

We’ve all been hurt by someone in the church at some point in our lives. We’ve all been disappointed and let down. By the same token, we have hurt and disappointed our share of people, I’m sure. Regardless, of how deeply that hurt runs, we cannot abandon the place where God calls us to serve wherever that may be.

You see, my church became the church to me because I became a part of it and, in doing so, it became a part of me…if that makes sense.

To all those believers who have walked away from the for whatever reason, the God needs you now in his church more than ever. Find a place where you can be encouraged. Find a place where you can love and let them love you. Find a place where you can serve God with all the gifts he gave you.

Let us not give up meeting together. Let us keep investing ourselves in his work, participating in his ministry. Now is not the time to walk away. Become a part of a church somewhere that needs your presence and in doing so, let it become a part of you.

What’s In Your Hand?

Background Passages Exodus 4:1-5; Romans 12:6-8; Ecclesiastes 9:10

The bedouin stood on calloused, bare feet with his sandals in his hand, trembling in the glow of the burning bush. Seeing its light. Feeling its heat. Listening to the voice from its flame.

The 80-year-old shepherd heard these words and more…

“I am the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob…I’ve heard the cries of my people…I am sending you to Pharaoh to bring my people out of Egypt.”

Moses hid in the desert for 40 years after an unceremonious exit from Egypt. Face to face with the oppression of the people of his birth, he reacted in the heat of the moment, killing the offending Egyptian. Once the son of the Pharaoh’s daughter. Now a old man, tending sheep that didn’t even belong to him. O, how the mighty had fallen.

God spoke to Moses on the slopes of Mount Horeb from a burning bush that was not consumed. The God of his fathers called him to a mission of eternal importance. It was the next phase of God’s redemptive plan. To make it happen, he needed to get his people out of Egypt and back to the land he had promised them. He needed Moses.

This unbelievable experience in the wilderness should have lifted his spirits and emboldened Moses to act. Instead, the miracle on the mountain left him filled with anxiety, offering one excuse after another.

“Who am I? I am no one. Pharaoh will not listen. I know the man.”

God said, “Go!”

“To the Hebrew people, I’m nothing. When they ask who sent me…and they will ask…what do I tell them”

“Tell them I am who I am! Now, go!”

“They’re not going to believe this…not the Hebrew people and certainly not Pharaoh.”

God chose this moment to ask Moses a critical question.

“What is in your hand, Moses?”

Moses looked at his right hand. Fingers wrapped around the thick shepherd’s staff, worn smooth by years of use. His mind raced. This was the tool of his trade. A staff for protection. A staff for balance. A staff for herding. Just a stick.

I wonder at that moment if Moses saw a flash of something more ominous in the staff he held. He was once a prince of Egypt. Perhaps, in that moment, the staff served as a symbol of all that had gone wrong in his life. The perfect manifestation of his failure. He had traded a scepter for a shepherd’s crook so he could herd a flock of sheep that weren’t even his. As he heard God ask his question, “What is in your hand?” Perhaps Moses felt unworthy, certain that God could choose a better man.

Moses swallowed the lump in his throat and said simply…

“A staff.”

Nothing more. Nothing less. An old tree branch whittled and shaped to serve his needs. God knew it could represent something new and different. He just needed Moses to see it, too.

“Throw it on the ground, Moses.”

Moses let it drop. As it bounced on the rocky soil, the staff transformed into a snake. Startled, he took two steps back and stared.

“Now, pick it up.”

As soon as Moses lifted the snake from the ground, it turned back into a staff.

Moses looked in awe at the bush.

“This,” said the Lord, “is so that they may believe that the Lord, the God of their fathers…the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac and the God of Jacob has appeared to you.”

What is in your hand?

What a great question!

I wonder how many of us have starred at the burning bush and heard the voice of God telling us, “I’ve got something I need you to do for me. It’s important. I need you to go….”

I wonder how often you have done what I’ve done and responded immediately with every excuse in the book to avoid doing what God needs us to do. My excuses sound remarkably similar to the ones Moses muttered into the face of a burning bush.

Who am I that you would ask this of me?

  • I’m not capable.
  • I’ve made too many mistakes.
  • I am no longer the man I once was.
  • I’m too old.
  • No one would listen to me.
  • They’re just going to laugh in my face.
  • Find someone else…please.

How like Moses I am at times. Too comfortable in my place. Too embarrassed of my failures. Too willing to believe my mistakes trump my potential. Too unwilling to open myself to God’s transformative power.

Then, the question comes to me just as it came to Moses.

“What’s in your hand?”

When you get down to it, that’s an intriguing question. If we’re honest with ourselves, it’s a question we’ve all heard at some point in our lives. When God asks the question, it deserves an honest look.

Scripture is filled with stories of individuals who possessed no extraordinary gifts. That which they held in their hands was ordinary. Yet, God called. When they quit making excuses, God began to use them. Consider these examples.

Gideon defeated the Midianites with trumpets and lanterns.
Samson slaughtered the Philistines with the jawbone of a donkey.
David took down Goliath with a sling and a stone.
A child with a small basket of bread and fish fed a multitude.

So I ask again, the burning bush question.

What is in your hand?

One of the greatest mistakes we make as believers in Christ is to underestimate who we are and what we have. We hold an old whittled stick…an ability to carry a tune, the skill to bake a cake, the temperament for a kind word, the sensitivity to encourage a troubled soul. Yet, we deem it insufficient, weak, small in comparison to abilities we see in others.

Then, the excuses flow. Maybe, it doesn’t matter as much exactly what is in our hand. Maybe all that really matters is, as one writer said, “how much God is in your stick.”

And, there’s the lesson Moses learned. As long as you hold on to your stick, God can’t demonstrate his power. You’ve got to throw it down. Let it go. Surrender it to God. Once God is in it, his power flows through it.

Then, your ability to carry a tune inspires. Your skill in baking brings comfort. Your kind word changes another person’s outlook on the day. Your encouragement lifts a burden from a neighbor’s shoulders. There is nothing insufficient, weak or small about that.

Whatever is in your hands, when surrendered to God, gets infused with his power that makes a difference. And, people will see what is in your hand and know that God is present in your life.

So, what is in your hand?

The truth is, I can’t tell you. It is a matter between you and God. But, know this. There is something there. God has put something in your hand. It may look ordinary to you, but it was given to you for a purpose. He has gifted all of us, placed something in our hand, to use toward the glory of his kingdom.

Whatever God has placed in our hands we are to use it. Paul wrote about it extensively.

“We have different gifts, according to the grace given to each of us. If your gift is prophesying, then prophesy in accordance to your faith. If it is serving, then serve. If it is teaching, then teach. If it is to encourage, then give encouragement. If it is in giving, then give generously. If it is to lead, do it diligently. If it is to show mercy, do it cheerfully.” (Romans 12:6-8)

I don’t know what your gift may be, but it does no one any good if you never use it. Each of us has been gifted by God so he can send us wherever he needs us to go. To do what he needs us to do. When we surrender that gift to God, when we throw it down, God’s power is alive through us.

Whatever your hand finds to do; do it with all your might. (Ecclesiastes 9:10)

An unknown poet penned a bit of prose a few years ago entitled, “It Depends Whose Hands It’s In.” It’s not Shakespeare or Byron, but it holds a pretty good message. This is how it starts off.

“A basketball in my hands is worth about $19
A basketball in Michael Jordan’s hands is worth about $33 million.
It depends whose hands it’s in.”

As one who has missed his share of lay-ups, I ask you…

What is in your hand?

He Went About Doing Good

Background Passage: Acts 10:28; Galatians 6:9-10; Galatians 5:22-23, 25

I no longer watch much news. And in this era of rampant social media, I carefully pick and choose the type of post I read. I find myself listening less and blocking more and more posts, not because I disagree with them, but for their tone.

Both mainstream and social media fill the air and their column inches with bad news, hateful rhetoric and intolerance. Ending each newscast with a snippet of “good news,” does little to offset the divisiveness previously portrayed.

Don’t get me wrong. I truly believe there is far more good in this world than bad. Our urgency to celebrate the good and correct the bad needs to be foremost in our hearts and minds. Yet, when you listen to the voices of the world, it seems as though no one is trying to make a positive difference. No one is doing anything good.

The offhand comment spoken by Peter to Cornelius, an inquisitive, God-fearing Roman centurion, gets buried in a lengthy narrative about the work of God through Jesus Christ. I find it crucially important, especially in today’s world. Peter said of Jesus:

“…he went about doing good…” (Acts 10:28)

Peter encapsulated the entire ministry of Jesus in those five simple words. “He went about doing good.”

He healed. He fed. He comforted. He touched. He taught. He led. He encouraged. He restored. He challenged. Along his path and in his time, lives changed.

If we are to use Jesus as our role model, then we, too, must go about “doing good.”

In his letter to the churches in Galatia…modern day Turkey…, Paul spent time encouraging their behavior toward one another. Using tender words that speak of a doctor setting a broken bone so it would heal properly, Peter talked about restoring the sinner…healing the broken. He told these early Christians that a man will reap what he sows. That one who plants the seeds of sinfulness will reap the consequences of those actions and that one who lives by the spirit of God will find eternal life.

Then, his words encouraged the believers to “do good.”

“Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up. Therefore, as we have opportunity, let us do good to all people…” (Galatians 6:9-10)

What is this “doing good” that Paul addresses?

For Paul, doing good had everything to do with living by the spirit of God. He addressed what it means to live by the spirit in the fifth chapter of his Galatian letter.

“So I say, live by the spirit and you will not gratify the desires of the sinful nature.” (Galatians 5:16)

For all practical purposes in our doctrine of the Trinity, there is no spiritual difference in God, the Father, Jesus, the Son, or the Holy Spirit. They are one and the same. Therefore, living by the spirit is to live as Jesus lived. To live as God desires us to live.

After running a long list describing our sinful natures, Paul added this:

“But the fruit of the spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.” (Galatians 5:22-23)

In other words, “doing good.” These are the attitudes of the heart that prompt our doing good. The condition of our hearts compels us to heal, feed, comfort, touch, teach, lead, encourage, restore, challenge and change lives…just as Jesus did.

Paul told the believers that these acts were not one time deeds. You cannot spend just one day loving. We must love every day. We cannot do one kind thing. We must be kind continuously. If lives are to be changed, we must make the effort always. We must keep on doing good each day we live. Paul ended this part of the discussion by saying:

“Since we live by the spirit, let us keep in step with the spirit.” (Galatians 5:25)

Walking in relationship with the Father, through our trust in the Son and the influence of his Spirit. Every step of the way.

Paul said, “Do not grow weary of doing good.” If living in step with the spirit and doing good is such a high calling why would we ever grow weary of doing good?

We may find ourselves alone in the work. Criticized by those who do not understand. We may see our good deeds rebuffed, our efforts ignored. We may lose our own enthusiasm and start going through the motions. We may be doing the work in our own strength or for our own glory. We may lose faith that God is at work. We may grow discouraged because we cannot see the results of our labor.

What it boils down to is this. We grow weary of doing good because we lose sight of the ultimate goal of our work…to draw all to Christ. It is the reason for every act of goodness and its purpose is has eternal consequences for all we encounter.

Paul’s words pull us back to what matters most in our desire to do good.

When we explore the life of Jesus, we see it at every turn. Every action had a purpose. An intent. Everything Jesus did was meant to draw someone to accept the grace gift of salvation. He healed to remedy an affliction, but he did so hoping that the healed might believe.

He comforted to ease the suffering, but he did so hoping that the comforted might believe. He fed to erase the hunger pangs of the starving, but he did so hoping that the satisfied might believe. His deeds were an extension of who he was…an extension of his faith and trust in the Father.

Our doing good, modeled after Jesus, should have the same intent and purpose. Our actions ought to reflect our faith and trust in him. Every good we do ought to meet a need, hoping that those we helped will be drawn to God. That’s the aim of doing good. And it requires us to keep our eyes on that goal.

Florence Chaddick waded into the sea off Catalina Island 21 miles off the coast of California on July 4, 1951 with every intention of being the first woman to swim to the mainland. Swimming long distances was not new to her. She was the first woman to swim the English Channel in both directions just a few years earlier.

The challenge before her was less the distance than the chilly waters of the Pacific. On the morning of her swim, a dense, thick fog descended upon the ocean reducing visibility to a mere feet. Two boats accompanied her to keep her on track and to protect her from sharks. Her mother stood in the lead boat while her trainer followed behind.

She swam for hours never seeing beyond the lead boat. After a time, Florence began to complain about the water and the cold. She was ready to quit. Her mother provided encouragement and cheered her on. Florence continued to swim. When she would lag behind, her trainer in the back boat pushed her. Soon, she said she was done, unable to swim any longer. Her mother and trainer would not let her quit.

She struggled for a time more. After 15 bone chilling hours in the sea, Florence gave up. She climbed into the boat only to realize she had quit within a quarter of a mile of the coast. Later, she told a reporter, “If I could have seen land, I might have made it.”

Chadwick returned to Catalina Island the next year to try again. Though greeted by another foggy day, she dove in. She achieved her goal this time, remarkably besting the men’s record by more than two hours. On this occasion she made it by telling herself over and over again that the land was there. She just had to keep swimming.

Here’s my take away. Do not grow weary of doing good. Keep swimming. Trust that as you live by the spirit…on the course you’ve taken…that land is not that far away. In God’s appointed time, we will “reap a harvest if we do not give up.” Our work is not for naught. God is at work in our doing good.

I’ll simply end by echoing Paul’s final encouragement to look for every chance we have to do what is good and right.

“Therefore, as we have opportunity, let us do good to all people.” (Galatians 6:10)

A Different Spirit

Background Verses: Numbers 13:26-33, Numbers 14:20-24, Joshua 14:6-15

At one point about 10 days ago, someone posted a message on Facebook asking for information on Caleb, one of the 12 spies whom Moses sent into the Promised Land on a recon mission. “Was Caleb a good guy?” she asked. She based her question on the feeling that there were not many newborns today named Caleb.

Then, as I picked up the material for teaching my Sunday School class last week, the lesson was on Caleb.

Reflecting on both this disconnected incidents, I looked back at previous writings and resurrected a story I did in January 2016 about Caleb. I enjoyed reading it through again. I thought it might be nice to air it out one more time. The following is a reprint of A Different Spirit.

Flickering firelight
danced across his weathered face
as he paced worriedly behind his brethren.
Caleb.
One of the Twelve.
Scout.
Surveyor.
Spy.

Forty days Canaan.
Time to report.
The Twelve
gathered just outside the tent of Moses.
Circled the campfire.
Considered their conclusions.

For more than an hour
they talked.
The Twelve.
Leaders of their respective tribes.
Extolled the virtues of the land
God promised.
An accurate account of its…
Fullness.
Fertility.
Fruitfulness.

Grape clusters.
Too heavy for one man to carry.
Grain fields.
Bountiful and heavy with seed.
Grassy plains.
Suitable for grazing of vast herds.

They showed and shared the bounty.
Tasted its goodness.
Truly, without question,
a land flowing with
milk and honey.
Just as God promised.

Caleb.
Listened warily.
Prepared for the other shoe to drop.
“A land flowing with milk and honey,” but…

He heard their murmurings
during their journey.
A land of promise, but not potential.
What would be the point?
They would never possess
what they could not conquer.

Daunted
by the fortified cities.
Overwhelmed
by the vast armies.
Intimidated
by the giants in the land.
Caleb knew their hearts to be…
Torn.
Timid.
Terrified.

They grimaced and grumbled.
Fearful.
Fretful.
Worried about facing the descendants of great warrior tribes.
Amalikites.
Hittites.
Jebusites.
Amorites.
Canaanites.

“All too proud.”
“All too powerful.”
“All too much for us to handle.”

Caleb could listen no more.
He winced at the
fury of their faithlessness.
“We cannot attack.
They are stronger than we are.”
Caleb’s frustration boiling over
into an agonizing shout.
“Are you children afraid of the night?”

Every eye turned to the man of Judah.
Shocked at the outburst
from a man ordinarily subdued.
Moses locked eyes with his friend,
a wry glance,
as if to say.
“Okay, you’ve got our attention now…”

Caleb.
Took a deep breath.
Exhaled slowly.
Walked back to the center of the campfire.
Plucked a handful of grapes from the Canaanite cluster.
Voice barely above a whisper.
“Everything you said about the land is true.
We could not ask for more.
Lovely.
Lush.
Everything of which we dreamed while in Egypt.
Everything God promised.

“The people are many.
Cities walled and protected.
The armies experienced and well-equipped.”
Voice growing stronger as he
emphasized his point.

“You are right.
We cannot attack.
They are stronger than us…”
Caleb paused and looked the men squarely in their eyes,
fire of the campfire reflecting in his own.
“But they do not have our God on their side.
We do.

“We should go up.
Take possession of the land…
For with God,
we can surely do it.”

Silence.
The men averted their eyes from Caleb’s steady gaze.
Only Joshua stood with Caleb.
Then…
Arguments.
Counter arguments.
Lasted for hours.
No resolution.
As they disbanded,
Ten of the Twelve
spread panic among the people
until the whole community refused to claim the land
God promised.

*

Rebellion paid its price.
God lost patience with their
constant condemnation
of their covenant with him.
The Lord made a new promise to Moses.
“No one who treated me with contempt
will ever see the Promised Land.
Because my servant Caleb has a
different spirit and
follows me with his whole heart,
he and his descendants will inherit the land.”

For 40 years,
the Israelites wandered in the desert.
Time passed.
A new generation of Israelites prepared to enter
the land of God’s promise.

*

Joshua.
Stood on the hill east of the Jordan River.
Stared across the deep valley into
the rugged terrain of the Negev.
The ancient city of Jericho just below the horizon
lay between the river and the mountains.

Joshua’s task.
Divide the land among the Tribes of Abraham.
Take the land God promised his forefathers.
It would not be easy.

The Israelite leader heard the crunch of
stones under sandal.
Felt his friend of many years
standing at his side.

Joshua glanced to his right.
Nodded his head in simple greeting.
“Caleb.”

Though 85-years-old, Caleb stood…
Straight.
Steady.
Strong.
He smiled at his younger friend.
Let his eyes follow the gaze of Joshua
into the morning haze.
Stared deeply into the distant lands.
Thoughts dwelling upon the people they must defeat.

“Do you remember,”
asked Caleb quietly,
“what the Lord said to Moses about you and me?”
A question in need of no answer.
The two discussed that day many times
during their desert wanderings.

“I let my heart speak then about the possibilities,” said Caleb,
“though our brothers did not see it the same.
Yet, I have always followed God with all my heart and
always trusted his promises.”
He shrugged as if his next statement was a given.
“If God gave the land to us, then they,”
Caleb nodded toward the unseen enemy,
“they cannot defeat us.”

Caleb knelt on his haunches,
pushing aside the pebbles with his knife.
“You know as I do.
Our people fear the Anakites more than any other.
Their cities are fortresses.
Their men strong and tall.
‘Like giants,’ our people said.”
Caleb laughed softly,
knowing there was some truth to their words.

Then, he let out a long breath.
Stood and squared his shoulders.
Pointed to the rugged countryside across the river.
Toward the land of Anak and the giants.

“Give me those mountains.
With the Lord’s help,
I will drive them out just as he promised.”

Joshua.
Amazed at the faith of his old friend.
Nodded in agreement.
Placed his hands on Caleb’s head.
Offered a prayer and blessing for God’s
presence and protection.

Without another word,
Caleb turned and walked away with purpose.
Prepared to claim that which
God promised.

*

The Bible tells us that Joshua assigned Caleb the land he requested. The land filled with giants. The Bible tells us. The Lord helped Caleb defeat every enemy, opening the land to Caleb and his family. As history began to unfold. Caleb’s land became the land that gave life to David. The land that gave birth to the Messiah. Caleb’s faith became a critical cog in the plan and purpose of God.

The Bible tells us. Caleb experienced all God promised “because my servant Caleb has a different spirit. He follows me wholeheartedly.”

Too often we live a timid faith, recognizing the…

beauty of God’s promise.
bounty of God’s provision.
benefit of God’s presence.

But, altogether failing to embrace the role we play in God’s plan. We see the real or imagined giants living in the land we’ve been called by him to conquer…and we cower.

However, because he hold his plan in contempt, we wander the desert of our heart never experiencing the land God’s promised. “My servant Caleb has a different spirit. He follows me wholeheartedly.”

What does this mean?

Conviction.
Ten of the twelve believed God’s promise a lost cause. Though they saw his provision in the land, they lacked the conviction to claim it as their own. Caleb stood convinced that God would finish what he started when he brought them out of Egypt. Convicted of the truth that God would always honor his covenant.

We must recognize that God’s purpose and promise is more than unfilled potential. Our conviction moves us to act. Moves us beyond thinking the task ahead is impossible into a certain realization that all things are possible to those who are called according to his purpose. Conviction creates within us a different spirit.

Confidence.
As one of the twelve, Caleb walked among the same fortified cities. Stood in the shadows of the same giants. Yet around the campfire he demonstrated his complete confidence in the promise of God. “For we can certainly do this.”

Unwavering faith.
Unyielding trust.
Unbridled confidence.

We walk among the walled cities of a sinful world, knowing, without doubt, that we face a difficult battle if we stay on the path God chose for us. Life’s circumstances can seem…

Insurmountable.
Unconquerable.
Invincible.

In our own strength, we remain powerless to overcome. Yet, within the power of God, the indwelling presence of the Holy Spirit, our confidence soars. Even as we walk among life’s giants, our confidence in the Father allows us to walk with a different spirit.

Courage.
Caleb begged Joshua, “Give me those mountains.” He asked for the assignment, not because those mountains represented the most fertile or the easiest enemy to defeat. Caleb wanted those mountains because they were the most difficult and dangerous. It was the land no one else wanted because of the obstacle it represented.

Conviction and confidence allowed Caleb to trust in God. Courage made it possible for him to take that first step toward victory.

Conviction.
Confidence.
Courage.

One leads to the other. All point to a personal God who desires only the best for us. Living wholeheartedly for God, living with a different spirit requires that we live each day convicted of his promise. Confident in his provision. Courageous within his presence.

Whatever walled fortresses prevent us from moving forward, whatever giants cause us to tremble, let us walk as Caleb walked. May God see in us a different spirit.

What’s Your Burning Bush

Background Passages: Exodus 3, Exodus 4, Mark 2:1-12; Mark 5:32-28

Not that it matters, but do you know the name of the instrument used by the ophthalmologist during an eye examination…the gizmo with the chin rest and all the dials and levers? I didn’t know its name either until my last visit with my eye doctor. I asked this time. Now I know. It’s a phoropter.

You’re welcome.

A phoropter is the instrument used to measure refractive error and determine your visual acuity. The patient sits behind the phoropter with chin in place and views an eye chart. The doctor changes lenses and other settings while asking a series of insightful questions.

“Is this better? (Click) Or this?”

As the doctor narrows in on the proper measurements, the distinction gets more difficult to determine. That’s usually when I start feeling like I failed the test. We went through the pattern again during my recent eye exam with the same questions, but this time, as we narrowed down the acuity, he simply asked,

“What can you see?”

It’s a fair question then. It’s an even better question when you look at its deeper, spiritual implications. I found at least one answer in the life of Moses.

This was not his first
brush fire.
A careless ember from a campfire.
A lightning strike.
All it took in the arid wilderness
to start a fire.
He had no idea how this one started.

After 40 years in Midian,
Moses had seen his share of wildfires.
At first glance,
this one looked no different.

Weary from an endless day.
Leading his sheep to
greener pastures
Moses saw the fire as he crested the hill.
A quick assessment deemed it a
minimal threat.
He thought,
“A little sand.
Smother the fire.
Problem solved.”

Moses took a few steps toward the flame.
He stopped abruptly in his tracks.
First,
Cautious.
Curious.
Then,
Confused.
Confounded.

For a long moment,
Moses stared intently into the
heart of the flame.

“Moses saw that,
though the bush was on fire,
it did not burn up.
So Moses thought,
‘I will go over and see this strange sight—
why the bush does not burn up.’

In that moment,
Once Moses saw something more
than a typical fire…
Only then,
did God call out,
“Moses!”

Apparently, Moses wasn’t the excitable type.

In one of the most understated sentences uttered by an Old Testament character, Moses, saw that the bush was not burning. He calmly said, “I will go over and see this strange sight—why the bush does not burn up.”

I’m pretty sure my response would have been a bit more dramatic…something like, “Holy Moses!…”

I’ve heard this story many times since I was a child. Saw it played out on flannel board and in children’s plays. I’ve heard multiple sermons about God calling Moses to lead his people out of Egypt.

What struck me this week about this story was not that God called Moses to do important work, but that God didn’t call Moses’ name until the shepherd noticed something never before seen. The sight itself was not unusual. At first glance, Moses saw a fire that he needed to put out. Nothing more. Then, he noticed something different.

“When Moses saw that, though the bush was on fire, it did not burn up…”

Then, and only then…only when Moses noticed that the bush was not being consumed by the fire did God call his name. God waited to call until Moses opened his eyes.

So I also wonder, after 40 years in the Midianite wilderness…how many signs from God did Moses miss before the burning bush captured his attention?

The question to me becomes personal. What signs from God have I missed? What is it I need to see before God can call me to do important work? What do I need to notice before he calls my name?

Really, what or where or who is my burning bush?

There is a difference between seeing and really seeing, isn’t there? I can see my wife’s shoes and not notice that that they are new. (A fact for which she says she is forever grateful.) I can see her dressed for a night out and not notice how pretty she is. (One of my less than redeeming qualities.)

When you really think about it. Jesus saw things that most people don’t see…ever.

Everywhere the disciples went with Jesus, they saw the crowds that followed. They saw the multitudes of people and the problems they caused. Mouths to feed against their meager resources. “We have no food to feed them. Send them away.”

Andrew, bless his heart, saw a child with five loaves and two fishes. Even in his seeing he didn’t really notice. “What difference will these make among so many?”

Jesus, scripture says, “saw the large crowd and had compassion on them.” He noticed their hurt. Their need. He looked past their empty stomachs and saw into their empty hearts. He glimpsed the same five loaves and fishes and saw an opportunity.

In Mark, Jesus saw the friends leaning over the hole in a roof of a packed house after lowering their paralyzed friend to the floor in front of him. Where I might focus on the man lying in front of me, scripture says Jesus “saw the faith” of his friends. Where I might have noticed a man in need of physical healing, Jesus noticed a man whose sins needed forgiveness. Where I might have been uncomfortable with the Pharisees and scribes mumbling in the background, Jesus saw their devious and wicked thoughts.

Jesus noticed things others couldn’t see.

Give Moses credit. Where I might see a fire, Moses saw a burning bush that was not being consumed. It wasn’t until he noticed the difference that God could speak to an open heart.

So, it begs a question…

What is my burning bush? What is your burning bush?

A neighbor we wave to, but never visit?
A homeless man we’ve passed every day on our way to work?
An estranged son or daughter whose phone call we don’t return?
An unfilled place of service within our church?
The person we know who keeps questioning our faith?
The scripture verse that keeps popping into our thoughts?
A need in our community that goes unmet year after year?

What is it you see every day, but never notice? Who is the person God is using to get your attention? Your burning bush and mine will most probably me different. That’s because he needs us to do different things. To touch different people. He has something special for you and me. The signs are everywhere…if we will just take the time to notice. He can’t call our names until we do because until we notice we won’t hear him call.

Here’s the rest of that story. From the burning bush God called Moses to do an extraordinary thing. A task so great Moses felt unworthy. Think about that. Staring at a bush that wouldn’t burn and hearing God’s voice from its flame, Moses thought of reason upon reason why he shouldn’t or couldn’t do this work.

His excuses are the very ones I use to give myself permission to ignore the call…

Who am I? They won’t listen to me. God says, “I will be with you.”
Who are you? God says, “Tell them, ‘I am who I am.’ Tell them who I am.”
They won’t believe me! God says, “I will give you what you need to show them.”
I don’t talk very well. What would I say? God says, “I’ll give you the words.”

You and I will offer up every excuse to keep from doing what we know God wants us to do. But, God will answer every excuse if we just make ourselves available. Here’s the absolute truth of the matter. God doesn’t show us a burning bush to capture our attention unless we are ready, with his help, to do his work.

William Hazlett, a 19th century English essayist, social commentator and philosopher noted that through mankind’s history “…millions saw an apple fall from a tree, but only Isaac Newton asked why?

Maybe it’s an apple falling from a tree or maybe it’s a burning bush. Whatever it is, take time to look at the world around you and really notice what you’re seeing. When you notice what you’re seeing, I believe you’ll hear God call your name.

No more excuses. No more justifications.

What is your burning bush?