Tag: trust

What Now?

I’m sitting here tonight with my arm in a sling following surgery to remove bone spurs and reattach a torn rotator cuff tendon. I share that with you not to garner sympathy, though sympathy helps, too.

I share it with you simply because the surgery limits my typing to a ponderous, one-fingered hunt and peck that tries my patience and stifles my creativity. The prospect of typing my regular Bible Study blog this week is one hunt and one peck too much.

My uncle, Les Lewis, is the pastor of Grace Lutheran Church in Slaton, TX. He writes two brief devotional thoughts each week to share with his congregation, family and friends.

Once on a snowy day in West Texas when I was in elementary school and Les was in high school, he carried me home on his back for more than a mile through a foot of snow (uphill both ways, I’m sure.) Les regales our family with stories, each with the Lewis gift of embellishing the truth to make things more interesting. He makes me laugh.

When it comes to his faith, he is a spiritual thinker and often presents a new thought that challenges my own thinking. The following is one of my uncle’s devotionals. As I think of the number of family and friends dealing with personal moments of grief in the past weeks and months, his message resonates with me as one whose hope is in Christ. I hope you find it helpful.

I Thessalonians 4:13-18

“We do not want you to be uninformed, brothers and sisters, about those who have died, so that you may not grieve as others do who have not hope.”

The young first century church was still struggling to find itself; deciding where it stands on issues of the day. This is was especially true of the church at Thessalonica having only recently been established by the itinerant apostle Paul.

Since the day of Pentecost, the church had been inundated with odd beliefs, theories, superstitions, and speculations about God’s organization. Leaders were forced to deal not only with each of these notions but also with those who introduced them to the church.

High upon the list of topics of discussion was the belief that the Lord Jesus would be returning to earth to redeem His Church and take His followers to ever be with God in heaven. The people of the church were in a constant state of waiting anxiously for His return.

But this very issue was disturbing for some of the people, for their loved ones had died, and they feared that the dead would be left behind when the rapture came. The letter of Paul to the Thessalonians addressed the issue. He introduced them to his own doctrinal theory, “by the word of the Lord,” to give it divine authority.

The text for today very clearly lines out in orderly fashion the event of the second coming that includes all of God’s children. It’s impossible to say for sure whether or not Paul’s discourse put the matter to bed, but I imagine it was very comforting to those grieving members for whom it was intended.

Grief has received bad press in that it tends to be looked upon as a sign of weakness, or a lack of faith. Grief is autonomous! It forces us deep into our very souls to meet with us there even as we struggle to follow the advice of well-meaning friends who tell us we “must be strong for the kids.”

The dark silence of the soul may be strange territory for many of us for it is the place where deep processing takes place; where all phony business is pushed aside leaving only the pain of reality.

We will feel as if grief is going to utterly consume us, but HOPE is the solvent that softens our grief and ultimately makes us feel human again. Hope does not get rid of grief, it only makes grief, OUR GRIEF, bearable, thereby blending “our” grief into our personality enabling us to be present for “others who have no hope.”

Paul’s image offers hope to all who are in grief. “Therefore encourage one another with these words.”

Les

*****

Thanks, Les. I add only one thought and one verse.

With every loss comes grief. It’s arrival and departure are rarely in a confined time frame or orderly progression. Just when we think grief has finally taken its last breath from us, another wave breaks over our heads threatening to drown us once again in our sorrow.

That’s why we fight it. Try to ignore it. Try to push it away only to find ourselves lost again in our brokenness. Grief is the life process God uses to put our pieces back together again, different to be sure, but whole. It is his presence, his hope, that sustains us.

I find comfort in the following verse from Psalms.

“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”

That has been my experience and is the basis of my hope.

Seasons of Our Lives

Background Passage: Ecclesiastes 3:1-14; Ecclesiastes 1:9

It’s one of the few commercials I enjoy. Veteran actor J. K Simmons in his persona as an agent for a national insurance company, leads a client through their Hall of Claims. He describes a bizarre and unlikely happening once covered under their policy…like the Three-Ringed Fender Bender, an accident caused by a clown car rear-ending another vehicle.

He typically ends the tour with the tagline, “We know a thing or two because we’ve seen a thing or two.”

The writer of Ecclesiastes, in his infinite wisdom, had a similar thought. He had seen it all.

“What has been will be again. What has been done will be done again. There is nothing new under the sun.” (Ecclesiastes 1:9)

Solomon, the last king of a united Israel and the youngest son of David, is generally credited with writing some of the Psalms, the Song of Solomon and most of Ecclesiastes. In the beginning of Ecclesiastes, the writer is called “The Preacher” in some translations or “The Teacher” in others. His words are always instructive.

“What has been will be again.” This statement sounds pessimistic, resigned to the inevitable. “There is nothing new under the sun.”

I think it’s wisdom that comes with age where one begins to recognize how often history and life repeat. It is a wisdom that knows that nothing, and I mean nothing, surprises our God.

Shortly after the start of the riots in Minneapolis, Seattle, Portland and other major urban centers, one of my sons expressed how unsettled he felt as he watched what was happening. He recognized the validity of the protests and the need for progress in civil rights, but struggled with the violence associated with it.

I told him I felt the same way as I watched all that transpired in the 60s and 70s. The need for change was real. The destruction was a tragic waste and did more harm than good. We got through those years by taking some tough steps forward. We can and must do the same this time. There is nothing new in the unsettled feelings we’re feeling.

Pandemics come and go throughout history. Depression and joblessness recur in a cyclical nature. Periods of civil unrest lead to important social change. Hotly contested elections play out in front of us with lies, half-truths and innuendo. Whatever we are experiencing, we’ve been there before. There really is nothing new under the sun.

As life unfolds around us we learn that there is a season for all things in God’s created world. Chaos exists in our world. Resolution comes. The pattern repeats, not because God has lost control, but because that is life.

The teacher of Ecclesiastes would tell us that every thing happens in its time and that the God of the universe works within the chaos and the calm for a purpose, even when we don’t know what he’s doing or why.

Listen to the Preacher’s poetry (Ecclesiastes 3:1-8).

There is a time for everything—
and a season for every activity under heaven.
A time to be born and a time to die.
A time to plant and a time to uproot.
A time to kill and a time to heal.
A time to tear down and a time to build.
A time to weep and a time to laugh.
A time to mourn and a time to dance.
A time to scatter stones and a time to gather them.
A time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing.
A time to search and a time to give up.
A time to keep and a time to throw away.
A time to tear and a time to mend.
A time to be silent and a time to speak.
A time to love and a time to hate.
A time for war and a time for peace.

See in the phrasing…his choice of words…the order and balance of God’s creation. The contrasting couplets give evidence that life has its seasons, its time, for all things. Yet, the couplets are not sequential. They fall randomly in the poem as they fall randomly in life. They represent the broad spectrum of life as we live it from birth to death. Not all roses and lemonade. Not all darkness and doom.

It is all we experience in the dash between the day of our birth and the day of our death. It is life. In life God grants us the time to do what he needs us to do. To experience the living…the good and the bad of it…to make memories and to have experiences that draw us closer to the God who loves us.

God wants us to spend our time wisely in that to which he calls us. Time is his gift to us. How we use it during the seasons of our life ought to matter to us because it matters to God.

Most of the time when we read or hear these verses we stop at the end of the poem. Yet, to stop at the end of the poem is accepting the vagaries of life as if the Creator set the world in motion and let it run unattended since the dawn of time.

In such a world we exist as flotsam, adrift in a placid ocean that turns stormy with each wisp of wind. To stop at the end of the poem is defeatist. Little more than life left to the arbitrary whim of a callous and uncaring god.

The wise writer of Ecclesiastes refused to believe that. He had more to say. And, to me, it is the heart of the matter.

“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 also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end.” (Ecclesiastes 3:9-11)

Life is a series of contrasting events…the inevitable good and bad times. It is what we do with it and the attitude we carry that makes a difference. Here’s a tremendous take away.

This verse is written by a man who has seen the hurricane hide the sunset. A man who suffered the storm and watched the dawning of a bright, new day. The older I get and the more hardships I encounter, I know that “this, too, shall pass.”

Solomon recognized that through the good and the bad of life, God “makes everything beautiful in its time.” These are words written by a man who knows that even in the darkest of nights and the deepest of despair, God is at work.

And, it’s not just an Old Testament construct. Paul said, “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” (Romans 8:28)

The ugly becomes beautiful in the hands of a loving God and that is a mystifying process beyond our comprehension…a God-worked mystery “no one can fathom…from beginning to end.” I can know God is at work without ever seeing his hand until the storm passes. That’s why we must find time in our busy days to reflect on where we’ve been and what has transpired. Hindsight is 20/20. (Aren’t we all ready to see 2020 in our hindsight.)

To Solomon, the teacher, the king, life boiled down to this. It is not complicated. It is not abstract. It is profound in its simplicity.

“I know there is nothing better than for people to be happy and to do good while they live. That each of them shall eat and drink and find satisfaction in all their toil—that is the gift of God. I know that everything God does will endure forever; nothing can be added to it and nothing can be taken from it.” (Ecclesiastes 3:14)

Ecclesiastes teaches us to enjoy God’s gifts today. Being content with life regardless of circumstance is a gift of God to those who make “doing good” a priority. Focusing our attention on doing good and enjoying life can help us accept the balance between the seasons of mourning and the seasons of dance. Between the good days and the bad.

Paul echoed the sentiment to the church at Philippi, declaring that God continually grants him the strength to find peace in every season.

“I am not saying this because I am in need for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need and I know what it is to have plenty…I can do all this through him who gives me strength.” (Philippians 4:11-13)

In what season do you find yourself today? The answer will be different for each of us. Some will be at war and others at peace. Some will be keeping and others throwing away. Some will be searching and others will give up. Some will gather stones while others are scattering them to the wind.

I don’t know in what season you find yourself, but I know this. God knows a thing or two because he’s seen a thing or two. He is at work in your season and you are not alone.

When we live for him, God’s way is both manageable and meaningful. Rather than complaining about our circumstances, about the things we don’t have or the bad times we’re going through; rather than crawling in our foxholes in the vain hope that the difficulties will pass over our heads; let’s enjoy the time he has granted us to live. Let us find that which God is teaching us and celebrate it.

“There is a time for everything and a season, a purpose, for every activity under heaven.”

Somewhere in Your Silent Night

Background Passages: Psalm 69; Luke 15:1-6; Ephesians 3:14-19

On the one hand…

You can see the anxiety in the eyes behind the masks. You can sense the anguished emotions in social media posts announcing the hospitalization or death of a loved one or friend from the coronavirus.

You can feel the desperation as you drive past empty businesses, stores and restaurants representing the livelihood of people who own the establishment or work within the organization.

There is palpable unease among educators and parents at the prospects of in person school or another semester of online learning.

On the other hand…

A foreboding sense of frustration exists among those who struggle with the restrictions imposed during this time of pandemic. Their hearts, not personally touched by the tragedies caused by the virus, long for a return to normal. A cacophony of mixed messages create distrust of any word that runs counter to their hopes. They find it hard to believe in anything.

It doesn’t take a long look at social media to see that a great many people are at their breaking point. Two sides of the same coin. Both struggling for answers.

The Psalmist would understand these feelings of distress.

“Save me, O God, for the waters have come up to my neck. I sink in the miry depths where there is no foothold…I am worn out calling for help. My throat is parched. My eyes fail looking for my God…Answer me, Lord, out of the goodness of your love. In your mercy turn to me. Do not turn your face from your servant; answer me quickly, for I am in trouble. Come near and rescue me…I looked for sympathy but there was none, for comforters, but I found none.” (Psalm 69:1-3; 16-18, 30)

In a world experiencing such uncertainty, a roiling tension simmers just beneath the surface threatening to consume us. In such a place it is easy to feel out of sorts. Isolated. Lonely. Agitated. Anxious.

His undying hope in the Lord was his answer.

“I will praise God’s name in song and glorify him with thanksgiving…you who seek God, may your hearts live!” (Psalm 69:30,32)

Have you noticed that we tend to revive our hope during Christmas? Despite the issues we’ve faced during the year, the celebration of that day when hope came to live among us, changes our perspective. Sadly, for far too many, the feeling dissipates with the aging of the new year. It seems to be the case in 2020.

Maybe we need a little Christmas this July.

I’m trying to exercise more amid the weirdness going on around me. I listen to music as I walk or swim as a way of breaking up the repetitive nature of my workouts. I usually set my player on “shuffle” to get a variety of tunes. This week, for the first time, one of the songs that popped up was from a Christmas album by Casting Crowns.

When the music began playing during a recent walk, I started to click past it. It’s way too early for Christmas, I thought. For whatever reason, I let it play. I heard a song with a message too beautiful for one season.

Listen to Somewhere in Your Silent Night.

It is not hard to imagine a great many of us laboring with our thoughts as we lie in bed in the middle of the night. Minds racing. Unable to sleep. Amid the stillness and quiet, our hearts are troubled by the circumstances in which we find ourselves. A country that feels like it’s tearing itself apart. All authority questioned. People at odds with one another. A deadly and debilitating illness threatening every family. Our lives turned upside down.

In the escalating tension of our lives, it’s hard to find life’s joy and peace. As the song says, “you feel too far gone and too far out of reach.” Like the Psalmist, our broken hearts cry out for relief. We long for comfort.

The lyrics remind us that in the middle of the silence, heaven hears our broken hearts. Hope is here. Love comes to find us in the form of the baby in a manger who grew to be the man on the cross.

Here are the words that spoke so clearly during my walk.

“From heaven’s height to manger low,
There is no distance the Prince of Peace won’t go.
From manger low to Calvary’s hill
When your pain runs deep his love runs deeper still.

“Lift your head. Lift your heart.
Emmanuel will meet you where you are.
He knows your hurt.
He knows your name.
You’re the very reason that he came.”

The Bible tells it in a beautiful story in Luke of the shepherd tending his flock. As he frequently did, the shepherd counted them all to make sure none were lost. This time he found one sheep missing. Immediately, he scoured the hillside. Crawled through the gullies and crevices. Tore through the thicket of thorns. Braved the lion’s den.

He searched through the night until he found the one who was lost. Tending to its needs, he carried the animal in his arms, ensuring that no harm would come. When he placed the lamb back into the fold, he rejoiced.

God is there for his flock, but he will go to great lengths to find the lost and broken.

This is an unusual time, but none of this weirdness caught God by surprise. No matter how deep your hurt, God’s love is deeper still. No matter how lost you feel in the moment, he will never stop calling your name. In the middle of your anxiousness, his love will find you.

No. It’s not Christmas. If, however, Christmas is a time to remember our hope in the God who is ever-present in this hurting world, then now is as good a time as any to put out the Nativity and sing a few carols of joy and peace.

Now is as good a time as any to celebrate that he came and that he remains with us. Now is as good as time as any to allow God to find you where you are because you are the reason he came.

Desperate times call for desperate measures. Just call on his name and…

Love will find you.

Paul’s prayer for the church in Ephesus seems appropriate today. It is my closing prayer for you.

“For this reason I kneel before the Father…I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how long and wide and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.” (Ephesians 3:14-19)

Amen and again, Amen.

Finding Hope Amid the Hopelessness

Background Passages: Psalm 31:24, Psalm 33:18, Romans 5:3, Isaiah 40:31, Romans 12:12, Jeremiah 29:11

If our coronavirus, racial-tense, economically stricken world has taught us anything, it’s that the things of this world will confound and confuse us, rust away and lose their luster, or fizzle out and fade away.

Maybe we can handled one or two of those things happening at the same time. When we are hit with a tsunami of negative news and issues seemingly without solution, the feeling of hopelessness can overwhelm us.

I’m a generally optimistic person and I admit I’ve felt it at times during the past five months. We wonder: “Will we survive this?” Or “When will this ever end?”

Two verses provide a message for our worrisome day.

“Be strong and take heart, all you who hope in the Lord.” (Psalm 31:24) “The eyes of the Lord are on those who fear him; on those who hope in his unfailing love.” (Psalm 33:18)

The verses beg the question. What is our source of hope?

Several years ago, psychologist Dr. Shane Lopez began to ask those he encountered what they meant when they talked about hope. To get the conversation started, he asked his friends and clients to take the Head-Heart-Holy test. It starts, he said, by asking the question, “Given your background and all life experiences, where does hope originate?”

The analysis determines whether one’s hope comes from one’s head (That which you believe and think you can control), heart (The emotions that respond to events and guide your actions) or whatever one finds sacred (the belief in God or some higher power at work). Lopez says that most people ascribe hope to the heart…a feeling that comes and goes depending on life events and circumstances.

It seems to me if you’re dependent upon life circumstances as a basis of hope, much of your life will be spent in a frenzied foxhole, hoping to avoid what feels inevitable. For those of us who put our faith and trust in Christ, the origin of hope is found in a leap of faith, especially in the darkest times.

Growing up on a farm 22 miles from the nearest decent sized city, I took for granted the stars in the night sky. I remember looking up late at night and seeing the clear band of the Milky Way spreading across the night sky amid a universe of galactic pinpoints of light. After living almost all my adult life in the suburbs of Houston, it’s a rare night outside when I can see more than a handful of the brightest planets or star clusters.

Stars are amazing and beautiful, but you can only see them at night. The deeper the darkness, the brighter, and more plentiful, the stars.

The stars prove to be an interesting metaphor for Christian hope. We rarely call upon it in the light of prosperity and peace. We hold onto it, but don’t draw upon it. No, we discover hope in the dark night of adversity. Famed pastor C. H. Spurgeon wrote, “Hope is like a star. Often, we only see it when we are facing suffering.”

The point he was trying to make, I think, is that difficult times cause us to call upon our hope in Christ. Paul told the Roman church that the persecution they faced would eventually lead to hope.

“…We know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope.” (Romans 5:3)

If we truly believe that God can find a way to bring about good even in the most difficult circumstance as he tells us in Romans 8:28, then the dark days of pandemic, turmoil and financial stress should elicit the hope within us. It is a trust that God is at work in our lives and in the world and that the final outcome, the final victory is his…and by extension…ours.

If suffering is a part of life, which our experience tells us it is, we get to choose whether or not it will overwhelm us. Our security comes from the one in whom we believe, not from our own feelings or emotions which tend to weaken our knees. The difference between the Christian’s response to trouble and that of one without Christ is hope.

This verse in Isaiah stands to me as one of the most uplifting and poetic passages in all scripture. It speaks to the natural outgrowth of Christian hope.

“…but those who hope in 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 be faint.” (Isaiah 40:31)

When fear and worry begin to gnaw at my soul, that verse echoes off the walls that seem to surround and trap me. I hear it and the difficult steps I have to take get easier, less heavy-footed. My whole demeanor and attitude change.

Troubled times have a season. They will come and go. Ebb and flow. My approach to the trauma of the day becomes one of joyous hope as I try to wait upon God to answer prayers. Yet, this is what is required of me.

“Be joyful in hope; patient in affliction and faithful in prayer.” (Romans 12:12)

For most of those Dr. Lopez surveyed, hope was conditional, framed by the circumstances in which they found themselves or the people with whom they were surrounded. Our hope as Christians is not grounded on circumstance, people or our own personal choices. Hope is found in Christ alone. It is a refrain pronounced by Edward Mote, a 19th century London cabinetmaker turned minister. In 1863, he penned the words of one of the great hymns of all time.

“My hope is built on nothing less
than Jesus blood and righteousness.
I dare not trust the sweetest frame
but wholly lean on Jesus’ name.

“When darkness veils his lovely face,
I rest on his unchanging grace.
In every high and stormy gale,
my anchor holds within the veil.

“On Christ, the solid Rock, I stand.
All other ground is sinking sand.

Hope shines brightest in the darkest storms. If your experiences in this messed up world give you a sense of foreboding, helplessness and hopelessness, know that God’s hope shines brightest in the darkest storm. He is the only solid rock in a quicksand world.

The hope we have is not based on circumstances, people, or even our own choices – hope is found in Christ alone. What a comfort this is to our lonely and hurting hearts! God is faithful and will not disappoint.

Rest your heart upon this word.

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord. Plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” (Jeremiah 29:11)

Somehow, that makes me feel better. May we all test positive for hope this week.

Passion Week-Thursday: Never Alone

Background Passages: John 14:1-27; John 16:12-33 and John 17: 6-26

The events of the day were emotionally charged and brutally devastating. Though the day began easily enough for Jesus’ disciples, it would soon take a very different turn. They surely felt the ground was giving out from under them.

Their emotions were set on edge as Jesus washed their feet, teaching them about a servant’s heart and their need to love and care for one another…especially in the days ahead.

  • They reeled in shock as Jesus blindsided them with the idea that one of them would betray him…that others would abandon him.
  • Later in the day, they would grow weary in the garden, sleeping while Jesus agonized in prayer.
  • They would be startled awake by the torches and shouts of the temple guards as they arrested Jesus.

If they thought their world was tilting in the Upper Room, by midnight, their world had turned upside down.

As intriguing as each of those episodes are, I find myself captivated by the conversation Jesus shared with his disciples after their Passover dinner together. Knowing the inevitable outcome, this would be Jesus’ last chance to tell them what they needed to hear. To give them words that might protect and sustain them in the horror that was to come.

Put in the disciple’s sandals, what would you need to hear? What do we need to hear at a time in our world where it seems the ground around us is falling away? I found three things compelling in the dialogue between Jesus and his disciples.

Trust

“Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God. Trust also in me.” Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid. (John 14:1, 27)

Jesus could sense the growing anxiety. He could see it etched on their faces. All this talk about Jesus going away made them fearful. For three years he had been their rock and a constant presence. Thomas vocalized what all were feeling. “We don’t know where you’re going so how can we know the way?” Jesus was still among them and already they were feeling lost and alone.

Jesus sought to reassure them, asking for them to trust God…to trust him…despite their misgivings and fears.

Never Alone

Jesus had led them every step of the way for years. They were unsure of their own ability. Unsure of what lay ahead. Unsure of what they were to do in his absence. Jesus promised them they would not be alone. That they would not forget all he has taught them.

“I will ask the Father and he will give you another Comforter to be with you forever—the Spirit of Truth. You know him for he lives with you and will be in you. I will not leave you as orphans.” (John 14:15-16)

“All of this I have spoken to you while I was still with you. But the Counselor, the Holy Spirit who the Father will send in my name, will teach you all things and will remind you of everything I have said to you.” (John 14:25-26)

Jesus followed up that promise as he continued to talk to them.

“I have much more to say to you, more than you can now bear. But when he, the Spirit of Truth, comes, he will guide you in all truth. He will not speak on his own; he will speak only what he hears and he will tell you what is yet to come. He will bring glory to me by taking from what is mine and making it known to you. (John 16:12-14)

The disciples have been told they need to carry on without his physical presence. Jesus would not be there for them to pose a question or seek clarification. How frightening must that have been? Yet, he told them. You are not alone and you need not worry. The Holy Spirit will be your companion and will remind you of everything you learned from me. That’s significant reassurance, even if they weren’t totally prepared to understand it.

Overcoming

Jesus tells the disciples they will face persecution and death if they continue to follow him and do the things he’s commanded them to do. His promise is that through the difficult times that lay ahead, they will have the Counselor and Comforter whispering in their ears just as if Jesus was present with them.

“Then the disciples said, ‘Now you are speaking clearly and without figures of speech. Now we can see that you know all things and that you do not even need to have anyone ask you questions. This makes us believe that you came from God.” (John 16:29-30)

It was the response from his friends that Jesus needed to hear. The response that gave him the lift he needed to press on to the work that lay before him.

“You believe at last!” Jesus answered. “…I have told you these things so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. Take heart! I have overcome the world. (John 16:33)

Prayer

Finally, Jesus concludes the evening before heading out to the Garden of Gethsemane with prayer (John 17:6-19) asking God…

  • to bolster their faith and connection with God.
  • to protect them.
  • To grant them a full measure of the joy Jesus had in his heart.
  • To ground them in his word.

Though the days ahead would be dark and difficult for the disciples, the hard conversation with Jesus had the desired impact. For that moment, they were comforted and strengthened.

*****

There is something reassuring to me in this passage. There is comfort.

Trouble and turmoil are a part of life. It always has been. It always will be. Faced with so much uncertainty today, it is easy to become anxious. What does today hold for me and my family? What will tomorrow look like? How will we survive?

Jesus reminds us. Trust in God. Trust in him. He is faithful and he is in control. He is working in my life and yours…even today.

The same promise he made to his disciples is a promise he makes to us. We have a Counselor, a Comforter, with us today. Bringing peace, a contentment, solid in the realization that God is with us. He did not abandon us in our time of distress. If we seek him, he will remind us of all he has taught us, all he has said and all he needs us to know. We are not alone.

Whatever happens around us, this passage also teaches that the victory is already ours. The world cannot beat or break us. Trouble will come, but Jesus has overcome the world. So, it circles back around. Because he has overcome the world, we find the peace that only he can give. Rest in the middle of chaos.

Then, there is one final piece to this expansive narrative that ought to bring you hope in all things. After Jesus prayed for his disciples. He prayed for me. He prayed for you.

“My prayer is not for them alone. I pray for those who will believe in me through their message, that all of them will be one, Father, just as you are in me and I am in you. May they also be in us so that the world may believe that you have sent me… I have made you known to them and will continue to make you known in order that the love you have for me may be in them and that I myself may be in them.” (John 17:20-26)

That’s it! That’s amazing! The sacrifice of Jesus on the cross is why we are never alone in the world no matter what surrounds us. The day before he went to the cross, Jesus was thinking of me. He was thinking of you. Praying that you and I would put our faith and trust in him so that we might be one…connected by grace with every believer and with God…to this day.

When you read that prayer, the cross becomes more than history. It becomes personal.

Seeing the Big Picture

Background Passages: Genesis 50: 15-21; Jeremiah 29:11

You’ve probably heard the business fable. A story with a moral.

A traveler encountered three stone cutters working in the roadside quarry. Eager to discover what they were working on, the traveler asked the first man what he was doing.

“I’m cutting stone,” he said, returning to his work.

No wiser than before, the traveler walked to the second man. “What are you doing?” He asked.

The second man continued working and gave a more elaborate response. “I’m shaping this stone so it is perfectly square and will fit neatly against that rock over there.”

Still unsure, the traveler approached the third stone cutter. He asked, “What are you doing?”

The stone cutter stopped his work, looked into the distance as if seeing a vision no one else could see. He replied reverently, “I’m building a cathedral.”

I was reminded of this story this week as I visited with a friend of mine who is a hospital administrator. We talked about how hard it is for some people to see how their plans and actions…how their managerial decisions…impact the rest of the organization. We talked about how important it is for leaders to help others see and embrace the bigger picture.

What is true in the business world also rings true in the spiritual realm. There is a real need to see God’s bigger picture.

The selfishness of a sinful world limits our ability to see God’s purpose and plan. Our disobedience, and the sinful choices of those with whom we interact, can put a hiccup in that plan. God continues to guide our lives, however, in ways that work through those misguided and often sinful decisions to put us where he needs us to be at any given point in time doing what he needs us to do to accomplish his will…his big picture.

When we trust enough to look beyond our own desires, God opens our eyes to a deeper meaning and purpose.

Consider the life of Joseph.

Joseph, the first child born to Jacob and his beloved Rachel. Ten older half-brothers, born to different mothers, resented their father’s show of favoritism to their younger sibling. Genesis 37:3 tells it plainly as it sets the stage for all that is about to happen. “Now Israel (Jacob) love Joseph more than any of his other sons…”

Joseph didn’t make it easy on them. The teenager basked in his favored status, wearing his expensive and colorful robe, gifted to him by his father, wherever he went. A constant reminder to his brothers that he was dearly loved and highly favored.

Joseph was a dreamer without a filter. His constant visions and musings painted him as their lord and master…stories he seemed to love sharing with his brothers. He delighted in telling them they would one day bow down to him. Twice he shared similar dreams and scripture says his brothers were jealous, angry and “hated him all the more.”

Taunted by one too many of Joseph’s dreams, the brothers’ resentment took a nasty turn.

You remember the story. Joseph’s brothers were tending the sheep in the rocky hillsides of Judea. After a time, Jacob sent Joseph to find his brothers.

“Go and see if all is well with your brothers and with the flocks and bring word back to me.”

That Joseph was not already with his brothers tending the sheep in the hillside was probably already a source of irritation among the brothers. When they saw him coming in his ornamental jacket, they stewed in murderous contempt. Not wanting to bloody their own hands, they simply dropped Joseph into a deep and dry well, intending to leave him there to die.

The fortuitous passing of a camel caravan presented a more lucrative option. The brothers pulled Joseph from the well and sold him for 20 shekels as a slave to the traders bound for Egypt. With a torn and tattered coat and a little goat’s blood, the brothers returned to their father, false concern etched on their faces, allowing their father to jump to the certain conclusion that his beloved son had been slaughtered by wild animals.

Betrayal.

Joseph probably bears some responsibility for the fractured relationship that existed between he and his brothers, but his brothers violated the expectations of that bond of brothers when they chose bitterness and hate over forgiveness and love.

You probably know the rest of the story as well. Through his God-given gift of interpreting dreams, Joseph rose to a place of prominence in the Pharaoh’s government. During a famine in the land of Israel, the brothers journeyed to Egypt to buy food and came face to face with the unrecognized brother they betrayed. In a series of events to see if his brothers had changed their hearts, Joseph eventually revealed himself to them, extending his forgiveness and inviting the whole family to live in his land of plenty.

It seems that the brothers always expected the heavy foot of revenge to eventually stomp on their heads. They believed that Joseph’s forgiveness and love was a face he put on as long as their father was alive. When Jacob passed away, they just knew Joseph would seek retribution.

They sent word to Joseph offering their lives as slaves. When the brother’s word’s reached Joseph he cried, saddened at the thought that during their time together in Egypt, he had failed to reassure them that they had been forgiven already.

He sent for his brothers. They threw themselves at the feet of Joseph offering again to be his slaves, hoping he would find enough forgiveness in his heart to spare their lives.

Then, he pulled them to their feet and scripture said, “he talked kindly to them.” His words meant to calm and reassure.

“Don’t be afraid. Am I not in the place of God? You intended harm for me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives.”

“God intended it for good…”

I read the story of Joseph and wonder how long it took him to get to that point. How long did it take him to see the bigger picture of God’s purpose and plan?

I suspect there were many nights while enslaved that he choked back the bitterness. Plenty of times when he languished in prison for crimes he did not commit where he blamed his brothers for his plight.

Maybe he began to see what God had in mind as he was called to interpret the Pharaoh’s dream. Maybe he caught a glimpse of God’s purpose when he rose through the ranks to become Pharaoh’s second in command. Maybe he finally saw God’s bigger picture when famine hit the land of Israel and his people came to Egypt for his help. Maybe it wasn’t until he saw the faces of his brothers that he knew how and why God had worked in his life.

Through his life, Joseph teaches us a great lesson. Everyone one of us will face betrayal, hurt, tragedy…a constant litany of struggles that enter and exit our lives. As we live and work through those problems, we have a tendency to focus too closely on the issue at hand…to fail to see the forest for the giant redwood in front of us.

If we’re not looking for the big picture, it’s easier to hold a grudge and more difficult to forgive. Easier to wallow in misery and more difficult to recover. Easier to abandon the joy of life and more difficult to accept and move on.

So how do we get to that point?

We…I…have difficulty at times really understanding that things that happen in life are within the control of an all-powerful and all-knowing God. It’s the old, “why does God let bad things happen to good people” argument. I can accept that all God’s plans are good. I just know that not all of man’s plans are good. Understanding how God can untwist the messes I make and get me back on the path he intended is mind-boggling. Yet, time and time again, I’ve experienced it.

It boils down to trust. It boils down to seeing beyond my situation and trying to see the circumstances of my life through God’s eyes…to see what he wants to accomplish in and through me. I will never get there if I focus on the mess I’ve made or the dirt the world throws in my face.

God’s plan for my life…for your life…is a good one despite the difficulties and hardships we face. It should always be our prayer that God will use whatever happens in our lives to bless our lives and the lives of others.

Jeremiah shared God’s promise to the people of Israel that their exile from their land would not last forever as long as they turned to God. The promise God offered Israel is the same promise he offers us.

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”

God’s plans are always bigger and better than any plan I come up with on my own…a reality for which I am eternally grateful.

Come To Bethlehem

Background Passages: Luke 2:1-20; Matthew 2:1-12

We often get caught up in the extraordinary events of that first Christmas.

      • An angel’s visit to a chosen, teenage girl.
      • A promised and pristine conception.
      • The birth of the Christ-child.
      • A choir of angels proclaiming “peace and goodwill” to everyone.
      • The shepherds’ worship of a Messiah.
      • The wise men’s gifts to a newborn king.

Yet, the Almighty God focused all the extraordinary acts of his perfect plan for the salvation of the world on the obscure, insignificant village of Bethlehem. Chosen from the beginning of creation as the place of the Messiah’s birth, God maneuvered the events of history and enabled the lives of his obedient people to open the gate of a stall and fill its manger with the perfect image of himself.

Sure. Prophecy told us it would be Bethlehem. Israel’s favorite king was born in the little hamlet and herded his sheep in the hills surrounding it. For hundreds of years it slept a few miles from Jerusalem and its Temple Mount. Until the day when Joseph, a direct descendant of David, obediently followed the governor’s law and made a five-day journey from Nazareth to Bethlehem to fill out his census and pay his Roman required tax.

Why Bethlehem?

God could have used any number of better-known cities in Israel to call his king and send his son. Instead, he chose Bethlehem.

If you pay enough attention to God’s work in history, he seldom used the magnificent to achieve his purposes. Far more often, God chose the humble and insignificant. The ordinary and mundane. When it came time to sing the final stanza of salvation that would one day hang on a cross and be raised from the dead, God pointed the world to a tiny village using a star bright enough so all who were willing to follow would find the baby, wrapped in swaddling clothes.

God didn’t send a king. He sent a servant.

God didn’t send a conqueror. He sent a carpenter.

God didn’t choose the temple city of Jerusalem or the royal city of Tiberias. He chose Bethlehem.

Why Bethlehem?

Here’s my thought.

For most of the people of the world, the coming of Jesus to Bethlehem was, and is, a curiosity. A Nativity scene in the courthouse. A painting on a Christmas card. A phrase in a Christmas carol. A tidbit of trivia that changes nothing.

For Mary and Joseph…for the shepherds and the wise men…for me…the coming of Jesus to Bethlehem was, and is, personal and powerful. A God-purposed encounter that changed everything.

God, through his son, Jesus Christ, will never force his way into our lives. Rather, he hangs a star above a stable and invites us to come to Bethlehem. He lets his angels sing and invites us to come to Bethlehem.

We must come to Bethlehem, not for the cold glitter and gold of a palace or cathedral, but for the chance to feel the warmth of a child held in our embrace…God in human form…a child to be adored and loved and worshiped. You see, the where is not nearly as crucial as the why.

Why Bethlehem?

Because Bethlehem is a place where God becomes personal…and powerful. A place where you can find the answer to your greatest longings of heart and soul. A place to see Jesus as God’s gift to you…God’s gift to a hurting world. A chance to embrace Jesus as savior and be forever changed.

Why Bethlehem?

Perhaps its time to come to Bethlehem and see for yourself.

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.

When the Axe Head Floats

Background Passages: 2 Kings 6:1-7; Proverbs 3:5-6

I don’t remember exactly when the tree in my in-laws’ back yard died or when they chopped it down. I just remember that the stump was in the way of a wooden deck they wanted to build.

I took my turn among the brothers-in-law wielding an axe, chopping through the thick roots of the once thriving oak. At one point as I pulled the axe over my head, the axe head came off and flew across the yard, leaving me holding the handle.

I have no idea why I thought about that this week. Somewhere in the back of my mind I remembered a similar story in the Bible. I had to search to find it, but I did. Some of God’s greatest lessons come from unexpected sources.

One reason to read the Bible is that we sometimes find practical life lessons through relatively unknown passages. God has a way of using the obscure to teach the what ought to be obvious. Timothy tells us as much, “All scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness.” (2 Timothy 3:16)

I found one of those nuggets of truth from the life of the prophet Elisha.

Elisha spent some of his time in ministry training a new group of God’s prophets. Who wouldn’t want to learn from this incredible man of God? God rewarded Elisha’s leadership by sending more and more men to sit at his feet.

At one point, the students came to the master and requested that they be allowed to cut down a few trees to build a new meeting house for they had outgrown the place where they were.

“Let us go to the Jordan and each of us get a pole and let us build a place there where we can meet.”

They were willing to do the work required. Commendable.

Elisha liked the idea and gave his permission.

The men held Elisha in such great respect that they asked him to accompany them to the Jordan River to find the best timber for the task. Elisha made the journey with them.

Here’s where the story gets interesting. One of the young prophets didn’t own an axe. Eager to be a part of what they must have considered God’s work, the man found a neighbor willing to lend him an axe.

When they arrived at the Jordan, each man found a suitable tree to cut down and the riverbed echoed with the sounds of iron on wood.

I can picture our young prophet wielding his axe, sending the chips flying as he cut into the timber. Then, in the middle of a powerful back swing, the axe head slipped from the handle, the force of the swing flinging it into the river with a heavy splash. The tool he borrowed buried itself in the muddy bottom of the Jordan.

“Oh no, my lord!” he cried out. “It was borrowed!”

It seems a small problem to us, but to this poor, young prophet it loomed large. Not only could he not finish his task, but the loss represented a significant financial burden. In those days, you see, an iron axe was a precious and expensive commodity. According to Old Testament law, if a man lost or damaged another man’s property, he was required to replace it or pay the cost of a new one. Chances are if he had to borrow it in the first place, he had no means of paying to replace it.

Many of our problems are like the one encountered by this young prophet. Through no fault of our own…at a time we least expect it…even while doing good work…we find ourselves facing a situation. We lose something of value entrusted to us. We find ourselves in financial difficulty beyond our means. We encounter illness or injury that collapses our world and leaves us wondering what we can possibly do.

That’s probably why the prophet cried to his master in such obvious distress. “Oh, my lord!” That’s probably why in our times of despair we cry out, “Oh, my Lord!”

Here’s the first lesson that comes to me from this story. It’s always best to learn to trust God before the problem comes. These young prophets were assigned an important task. When Elisha gave his permission, he didn’t intend to go with them. However, they trusted Elisha and needed his presence as they went about their task. As a result, when trouble came, when this man cried out in despair, his master was already there.

We fail ourselves, more often than not, when we think we are capable of dealing with life…both the good and bad times…without asking God to go with us. At the beginning of each new day, new task or circumstance, we ought to thank God in advance for his work in our lives. To being open to his guidance in every aspect of what we say and do. Then, when the crisis comes, we can cry out to him and knowing…trusting…that he is there.

The writer of Proverbs expressed it this way…

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him and he shall direct your paths. (Proverbs 3:5-6)

I can picture the man diving in the murky water to retrieve what he could not see. Hands groping along the bottom with the faint hope of touching the metal object. Each time he comes out of the water empty-handed.

He stands chest-deep in the river, water dripping down his face and off his beard. Anxiety written in his eyes. When he looked hopelessly at his teacher, Elisha asked him a question.

“Where did it fall?”

When the man pointed to the general spot in which the axe head sank, Elisha threw a stick in the river and…the iron axe head floated to the surface. How’s that for defying nature, Archimedes?

Then, in a remarkably practical moment, God’s prophet turned to the young man and said, “Lift it out.” He didn’t levitate into his hands. He didn’t pick it up himself. He asked the young man to do his part in the miracle.  The man waded through the water and grabbed what had been lost. After a moment of relief and celebration, the young prophet repaired the damaged handle and got back to work.

So, what’s the point?

I’ve never seen a floating axe, but I’m quite certain God has worked his wonders in my life…and in yours. He put people in my life at just the time I needed them, but I needed to take their hand. He opened doors of opportunity, but I had to walk through them. He whispered in my heart’s ear the solution to many a problem, but I still had to act. You see, God will meet our needs, but only as far as necessary for us to do our part.

Here’s how the story speaks to me.

Every day I rise, before I take a step, I need to ask God to walk with me through the day, trusting that he will honor that request. Believing in his presence brings a sense of hope, peace and purpose in the face of every problem I encounter. God will toss the stick in the waters of my life and give me the choice to pick up the floating chunk of iron or let it sink back to the bottom. He promises to do his part, but I must do mine, ever obedient to the leadership of the Holy Spirit in my life.

God will work faithfully in the lives of his children in our times of trouble and despair…in those times we cry out “Oh, my Lord!”

It’s my hope we all understand and embrace this truth long before the axe head falls in the water. Sooner or later, though, it will fall. So, next time you see the axe head floating on the water, pick it up.

The Last Boat to Tarshish

Background Passages: Jonah 1:1-4:11; John 3:16; Matthew 9:36

The stranger boarded the last boat to Tarshish.

Incognito.
Cloak pulled tightly around his shoulders.
Face hooded and hidden.

Mysterious.
With a furtive glance to the east,
he slipped below deck without a word.

Secretive.
“Paid his fare,” the Captain said.
“Don’t ask questions.
Let him be.”

Enigmatic.
Jonah, a man of God,
a fugitive fighting a deep burden of guilt.

How did it come to this?

*****

Israel.
His home. His country.
Ruled by Jeroboam II,
sinful and self-centered like its king,
but regaining military strength.
Misinterpreted God’s leniency
for God’s approval.

Nineveh.
A great city. Powerful and ruthless.
Capital of cruelty.
Wicked and wasteful.
Brutal and bloodthirsty.
Arrogant and aggressive.

Jonah.
Israel personified.
Zealously patriotic.
Lover of his country and its people.
His people.

National pride blinded faith.
Quick to offer God’s grace to the Hebrews.
Slow to offer God’s grace to an ancient enemy.
Provincial.
Predictable.
Prejudiced.

Jonah wrapped his existence in the Hebrew’s
special relationship with God,
the Father.
He lived in a resurgent nation
under imminent threat from the dreaded Assyrians.
That was his world.
Entitled.
Infallible.
In denial.

*****

God said to Jonah,
“Go to Nineveh.
Cry out against it for I have seen their wickedness.”

It sounded simple enough.
Grab your passport,
take a trip.
Admonish their sin.
Call them to turn from evil.
Show God’s mercy.
Encourage them.
Help them survive.

But Jonah heard,
“My blessing is for all people…
even the enemies of the Chosen…
even those who rejected the God of Moses and Abraham…
even those who kill for the sport of killing…
even those you despise with every fiber of your being.
Go!
Let them know I love them.”

Jonah knew the voice of God when he heard it.
He heard,
but refused to listen.

God asked too much!

Assyria.
An historic and mortal enemy.
Nothing good can come from Nineveh.
Forget this!

So, he slipped away in the dead of night,
walked in solitude to Joppa,
boarded the last boat to Tarshish.

Jonah,
the Father’s instrument of salvation to a lost city,
turned his back on his mission.
In response to a call from the Father, Creator,
Jonah opted for a cruise of
disobedience and defiance.

*****

Tarshish.
Not the end of the world,
but you could see it from there.
Jonah paid his fare.
Settled in his cabin for a pleasant cruise across the Great Sea.
To the far corner of the earth.
Far from Nineveh.
As far from God, as a man could go.
A futile attempt to avoid God’s call.

A storm of biblical proportions erupted!
A battered and shattered ship tossed on the waves,
its crew desperately fighting to survive.
While Jonah slept fitfully in the hold,
restless in his dreams,
the gale outside raged as wildly as
the tempest within his heart.

Unanswered prayers to unhearing gods.
Desperate for deliverance,
they cast lots to cast blame.
Jonah drew the short straw.
The weight of the storm
fell squarely on his shoulders.

Tossed overboard in a last ditch effort to placate the vengeful gods,
Jonah embraced Death,
finding it infinitely more desirable
than embracing Nineveh.

Into the waves and into the belly of the monstrous fish.
Three days and three nights Jonah wallowed in his misery,
until he had a change of heart.
Sort of.

“Salvation is from the Lord,”
he half-heartedly prayed.
Yet, Jonah experienced God’s forgiveness,
half dead, washed up on a beach,
bathed in a disgusting pool of fish vomit.

*****

With the reluctant heart,
God’s prophet admitted defeat and
trudged into the city of his enemies.
For three days he mumbled God’s message under his breath,
hoping no one would hear.

“In 40 days, Nineveh will be destroyed.”
No mention of repentance.
No mention of grace.
Simply a much-deserved destruction of the people he despised.

So, after three days, Jonah dusted the dirt from his sandals.
Shortchanged God’s call for repentance.
Nineveh had 37 more days to repent,
37 more days to hear the message,
but as far as Jonah was concerned,
if they didn’t hear the first time,
“Shame on them.”

To the possibilities of forgiveness for the despised Assyrians,
Jonah turned a cold heart.
Clinging to past atrocities of the people of Nineveh,
Jonah climbed to the top of the hill overlooking the great city,
privately praying for fire and brimstone.
Absolute annihilation.

Yet, deep in the marrow of his bones,
he knew God’s grace was sufficient.
“Slow to anger, abounding in love and faithfulness.”
This was the God Jonah knew.
If Nineveh heard,
Nineveh would respond.

In sackcloth and ashes,
Nineveh repented.
God relented.
Jonah resented.

Counting God’s grace to Nineveh as evil,
the prophet’s anger burned.
Jonah, the world’s worst missionary,
needed a lesson in priorities.

A fast-growing gourd for shade.
Jonah rejoiced.
A hungry worm and a withered plant.
Jonah raged.

God reminded him.
People are more valuable than gourds.
God, the Almighty,
offers mercy and forgiveness
to all people who repent and turn to Him.
Otherwise is human hubris.

Compassion

The contrast between
Jonah’s all-consuming anger.
God’s all-encompassing love.
The contrast between them
so vividly illustrated in Jonah’s story.
Human Capriciousness
versus
Divine Compassion.

God desires relationship with all people.
Jonah detested the Assyrians.
Prejudice colored his judgment.
God’s call to Nineveh ran counter to
every emotion in his heart.
He could not bring himself to obey.

How like Jonah we are!
God calls us to do something
outside our comfort zone.
We hate the way that feels.
Run in the opposite direction as fast as we can go.

How many storms and raging seas
would we avoid if we just
did what God wanted us to do
the first time He called?
How much heartache do we suffer needlessly
because we defy God’s will for our lives?

To make matters worse,
sin is so incredibly convenient.
If we want to run from God,
we can always find a boat waiting at the dock,
ready to take us wherever we think our Father cannot find us.
We climb aboard a seductive sailing ship to sin,
headed 180 degrees from where the
Father wants us to go.

We go to Tarshish.
Our rebellion.
Our choice.
Our will.

In the midst of our disobedience
and the storms that ensue,
we find God to be a God of second chances.
A God of compassion.

No matter how far we run,
how big a mess we make of our own lives,
God continually calls us back.
Jonah found a spiritual second chance in the form of a big fish
sent by the loving Father to a prodigal son.

We find second chances around every corner.
God never gives up on us.
Not when we’re evil.
Not when we run away.
Not when we shake our fists at him.
Not when we mope on the top of a hill
waiting for God to judge the sinners around us.

Jonah is the anti-hero of his own story.
He is, however, fully human.
He ran.
He argued.
He bargained.
He whined.
He fumed.

He developed a convenient truth…
The men, women and children of Nineveh should die.
They are Assyrians.
No other reason is needed.

Like Jonah,
we quickly condemn the evil in the world.
Rapidly relegate the sinner to the trash heap.
If they don’t look or act like us,
we react even slower to be the personal agent of
God’s forgiveness.
Basking in the glow of the salvation offered to us.
Balking at sharing that same grace to others.

In a perfect example of our humanity,
Jonah causes us to hang our heads.
We are so like him!
In perfect example of His deity,
God causes us to lift our heads.
He gives us chance after chance
to love more as He loves.

So when we hesitate,
He teaches.
Somewhere in our most reluctant hours,
the Creator of the universe quietly plants a gourd,
sharing a lesson in the priority of grace,
desiring that we finally understand
how deep
and broad
and rich
His love can be.

God’s character causes Him to act on behalf of Creation.
Compassion for the Ninevites.
Compassion for you and me.
Compassion that compels us to make known
the deepest desire of God’s heart.

The Old Testament proclaims.
“Salvation is of the Lord.”

The New Testament promises.
“God so loved the world that He gave His only Son
that whosoever believes in Him shall not perish,
but have everlasting life.”–John 3:16

Go.
Tell.
Your Nineveh waits.

*****

When he saw the crowds, he had compassion on them,
because they were harassed and helpless,
like sheep without a shepherd. –Matthew 9:36

Author’s Note: “The Last Boat to Tarshish” is just one of nine stories shared in my first book, Put Away Childish Things. The book offers a deeper look at some of your favorite children’s Bible stories. Put Away Childish Things, and my other books–The Chase: Our Passionate Pursuit of Life Worth Living and God’s Mirror Image—are all available from Amazon, Barnes and Noble or any online bookstore. I also have a few copies I can ship to you.