No turning back
In the face of tragedy, a family's choice to praise God challenges us to do the same | Andrée Seu
Scott and Janet Willis lost six children in a single day when a piece of metal fell off a truck and punctured the gas tank of their minivan. That's the part of the story that is public, so I am not telling tales out of school. The accident unraveled a corruption scandal of bribes for driver's licenses funneled into campaign chests, and ultimately sent a governor of Illinois to prison.
But this is an essay about meeting the Willises 17 years later at a Christian conference, and about Psalm 34, and the triumph of Christendom by that simplest and most elusive of acts—believing God. And it is about the responsibility placed on me by knowing this now. And on you too, if you continue to read.
By the ball of fire that consumed their minivan on Interstate 94, Scott (his face badly burned) said to his wife (her hands badly burned) what she told me are the best words he could have said: "It was very quick. And they're with the Lord now." Then, as he was helped to one ambulance and she to another, he called back to her: "Psalm 34."
Surrounded by emergency responders, Janet kept praying out, "I will bless the Lord at all times; His praise shall continually be in my mouth," with the accent on "will." I believe it is the same way Jesus must have cried to His Father, "I will put My trust in Him" (Hebrews 2:13), not from a lotus position, but in torment.
Because of the Willises, there is no turning back for me. I can never again countenance childhood trauma as an excuse for present sins.
Gone is my ability ever to say that the Lord does not expect us to praise Him at all times. The oft-heard caveat that in certain sufferings it is impossible to praise the Lord—and uncharitable to expect another to do so—is totally and irreversibly undercut by this testimony.
Gone forever is my ability to engage in ivory tower discussions on the applicability of certain Scriptures to my life. All speculations over whether the Psalms are merely liturgy or are meant to be obeyed are forthwith canceled. The Willises read the words "I will bless the Lord at all times" and came to the astonishing conclusion that it meant they should bless the Lord at all times.
Gone, therefore, is my ability to take Scripture at anything but face value.
No turning back.
Thanks to the Willises, I can never again entertain as a theoretical possibility the notion that a person is unable to keep God's commandments.
Janet Willis chose, in an act of volition stripped bare of any warmth of feeling, to trust in her God.
Blown out of the water is any attempt to come up with a scenario in which I might be excused for abandoning my faith. The Willises robbed me of that luxury when they underwent a testing at the extremities of human experience, and overcame—as the Son of Man with eyes of flame among the lampstands bids us overcome.
Banished are my quid pro quos, the restrictions I put on God's discipline unawares; the time limits I set Him for pulling rescue out of affliction; the lines I would not let Him cross; the right I reserved to judge His justice. The Willises have placed their stake here: "Though He slay me, yet will I trust Him" (Job 13:15).
"Sing, O barren one, who did not bear" (Isaiah 54:1). A command to sing at such a time would be cruel counsel if it were not true that in worship we find deliverance. Praise meets trauma where nothing else can reach. Praise in the face of devastation releases blessings obtainable in no other way.
The presence of God is directly related to worship.
Because the Willises chose to praise, I can choose. And because the Willises chose to praise, I must choose. They have upped the ante of my life. Meeting them has increased my obligation, as every testimony of God's deeds increases obligation. I cannot pretend we never made acquaintance.
What a privilege to meet someone to whom the Lord has entrusted so much suffering.
Email: aseu@worldmag.com
Friday, October 28, 2011
Thursday, October 27, 2011
October 27, 2011
Hope Again!
How’s your hope? A high level of hope is one of the keys to a healthy and holy life. The loss of hope is a horrible thing. It leads to discouragement, defeat and despair. It makes our souls a breeding ground for all kinds of destructive thoughts and actions.
One of the great themes of the Bible is hope. The Lord regularly reminds us that we have reason to hope in Him. This is clearly seen in Old Testament stories of God’s dealings with His people. Here’s one example:
Therefore this is what the Lord says: “I will return to Jerusalem with mercy, and there my house will be rebuilt. And the measuring line will be stretched out over Jerusalem,” declares the Lord. – Zechariah 1:16 (NIV)
After 70 years of captivity in Babylon, God was ready to restore His people to their homeland. Although they had put themselves in this bad situation through their continual disobedience to Him, the Lord still had good plans for them. Perpetual punishment and misery was not what God wanted for His people. The 70 years of divine discipline was designed to teach them to love Him and walk in HIs ways, because His ways were best for their lives. In this passage God gave them promises of redemption and restoration. He held out reassurance and hope for their future.
God is merciful and holds out wonderful promises for us too, even for those who have made bad decisions and terrible mistakes in life. He promises to rebuild what our sins have destroyed. He offers us hope — good promises for our future — good promises we can depend on.
The gift of hope is a wonderful gift. Real hope is not fantasy or wishful thinking. It’s something substantial, based in reality; based in promises given by someone with integrity and capacity.
Integrity refers to the character of the one making the promises. They don’t lie. They don’t promise what they have no intention of delivering. Their word can be counted on as reliable and true. Capacity refers to the ability of the one making the promise to bring about or deliver on what is promised. Capacity is all about having the power and resources to do what someone says they’re going to do.
Someone can have great integrity — undeniable, absolute sincerity and unquestionable, good intentions — but inadequate resources to fully deliver on a promise. On the other hand, someone can have great capacity to deliver on a promise, but have no integrity — their word can’t be trusted. For hope to be real, it must be based on the character and promises of someone with both integrity and capacity.
This is our God!
God is a God of integrity. His promises are true, sure and reliable. He is trustworthy.
He’s also a God of capacity. He has the power and resources to do whatever He says He will do, no matter how impossible it looks or gracious it seems to us.
God invites us to grab hold of genuine hope based on His promises. He encourages us to rest in this hope. He asks us to patiently wait for the fulfillment of His promises. He’s a God who never lies and is well-able to do what He says He will do. Go ahead and hope again!
Pastor Dale
How’s your hope? A high level of hope is one of the keys to a healthy and holy life. The loss of hope is a horrible thing. It leads to discouragement, defeat and despair. It makes our souls a breeding ground for all kinds of destructive thoughts and actions.
One of the great themes of the Bible is hope. The Lord regularly reminds us that we have reason to hope in Him. This is clearly seen in Old Testament stories of God’s dealings with His people. Here’s one example:
Therefore this is what the Lord says: “I will return to Jerusalem with mercy, and there my house will be rebuilt. And the measuring line will be stretched out over Jerusalem,” declares the Lord. – Zechariah 1:16 (NIV)
After 70 years of captivity in Babylon, God was ready to restore His people to their homeland. Although they had put themselves in this bad situation through their continual disobedience to Him, the Lord still had good plans for them. Perpetual punishment and misery was not what God wanted for His people. The 70 years of divine discipline was designed to teach them to love Him and walk in HIs ways, because His ways were best for their lives. In this passage God gave them promises of redemption and restoration. He held out reassurance and hope for their future.
God is merciful and holds out wonderful promises for us too, even for those who have made bad decisions and terrible mistakes in life. He promises to rebuild what our sins have destroyed. He offers us hope — good promises for our future — good promises we can depend on.
The gift of hope is a wonderful gift. Real hope is not fantasy or wishful thinking. It’s something substantial, based in reality; based in promises given by someone with integrity and capacity.
Integrity refers to the character of the one making the promises. They don’t lie. They don’t promise what they have no intention of delivering. Their word can be counted on as reliable and true. Capacity refers to the ability of the one making the promise to bring about or deliver on what is promised. Capacity is all about having the power and resources to do what someone says they’re going to do.
Someone can have great integrity — undeniable, absolute sincerity and unquestionable, good intentions — but inadequate resources to fully deliver on a promise. On the other hand, someone can have great capacity to deliver on a promise, but have no integrity — their word can’t be trusted. For hope to be real, it must be based on the character and promises of someone with both integrity and capacity.
This is our God!
God is a God of integrity. His promises are true, sure and reliable. He is trustworthy.
He’s also a God of capacity. He has the power and resources to do whatever He says He will do, no matter how impossible it looks or gracious it seems to us.
God invites us to grab hold of genuine hope based on His promises. He encourages us to rest in this hope. He asks us to patiently wait for the fulfillment of His promises. He’s a God who never lies and is well-able to do what He says He will do. Go ahead and hope again!
Pastor Dale
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
October 26, 2011
Answers for Unanswered Prayer
Gary E. Yates
Exodus 2:22-23
Chaplain Max Helton prayed beside the car of Dale Earnhardt prior to the start of the 2001 Daytona 500. Earnhardt told Helton, "Just pray that I'll be wise in putting the car at the right place at the right time . . . and be able to drive with wisdom." Holding hands, they prayed for wisdom and safety. In that very race, Earnhardt lost his life in a final lap crash.
We have all had the experience of unanswered prayer. We pray for God's healing for a loved one. We pray for God to bring revival and renewal to our churches. We pray for the suicide bombings to end and for our troops to come home. Why does nothing seem to change when God has promised us, "Ask and you will receive"? Is Jesus being totally truthful when he tells us, "If you ask me anything in my name, I will do it"?
We will never have all the answers to unanswered prayer, but the story of the exodus in the Old Testament provides us with some important perspectives when we are struggling with the silence of heaven. In Exodus 2:23, Israel cries out for God to deliver them from their bondage in Egypt. The people waited for twelve long chapters, a wait that must have seemed like forever, before God completely answered their prayers. What we learn from their waiting will help us the next time we are struggling with unanswered prayer or God's answer is not what we have asked for or expected.
I. We need to remember that God is answering our prayers even before we pray them.
Before the people ever pray for deliverance, God has already begun the process of providing a deliverer. A baby at the beginning of chapter two is the unknown answer to the prayer at the end of chapter two. Even when Moses goes from being a prince in Egypt to a fugitive in Midian, there is a reminder that God has a special purpose for Moses's life. In Midian, Moses drives away a bunch of bullies who are harassing the daughters of Jethro and he waters their sheep. It foreshadows precisely what Moses is going to do for Israel — he's going to confront the biggest bully of all and then spend 40 years of his life taking care of God's sheep.
When you're waiting for an answer to prayer it helps to remember that God already has the answer worked out before we are even aware enough to know our need or articulate the words of our prayers. God knows the beginning, middle, and end of every circumstance and situation. Jesus reminds us that "your Father knows what you need before you ask him." Israel needed a deliverer and the Lord knew about it before Israel even asked.
II. We need to remember God's care and concern even when our prayers are not being answered.
God's complete answer to Israel's prayer in 2:23 doesn't come for twelve long chapters, but notice what follows immediately in verse 24 — a reminder of God's concern for his people. As soon as Israel "groans" and "cries," God "hears." God is immediately touched by the cry of his people.
The name of "Yahweh" is prominent in the book of Exodus. When Moses asks for God's name at the burning bush, God answers that his name is "I AM" (the first-person form of Yahweh) (3:14). What does that name mean? Why does the disclosure of the personal name of the God of the universe sound like the old Abbott and Costello routine "Who's on first?" This name "I am" could mean self-existence; it could mean eternality, but those ideas are really too abstract for what is conveyed in this story. Yahweh is God's covenant name, and it means that He is the ever-present helper who is there for his people. It means that God hears the cry of His people as soon as the cry goes up.
You don't have to use a magic formula to get God's attention. You don't have to build up enough faith to earn his answer. You don't have to weary God into giving in. God is concerned at the very moment we come to him with our needs and requests because we belong to him.
III. We need to remember that when we pray, things may get worse before they ever get better.
In the story of the exodus, the children of Israel prayed and things got a lot worse before they ever started to get better.1 In Exodus 5, Moses tells the Pharaoh, "Let my people go!" The Pharaoh's response was not to say, "Thank you, Moses, for bringing this gross injustice to my attention. I'll start the paperwork to expedite their release right away." His response was to take away the straw that the Hebrews had used to make bricks. Moses's career as a labor union negotiator did not get off to a brilliant start. The Pharaoh became more hard-hearted and oppressive than ever. Right before the ultimate deliverance at the Red Sea, Israel was between a rock and a hard place — the Red Sea in front of them and the Egyptian army behind them. God chose not to answer fully and finally until things were as bad as they could possibly be.
God has the freedom to answer our prayers in ways that we don't anticipate or understand. Jerry Sitser reminds us that prayer does not normally "send an arrow straight to the target" but rather more often than not "shoots an arrow that curves and ricochets and even appears to fall short."2 Because of a recent move, our family has been praying for the home that we own in Ohio to sell for more than a year. Then, we finally received an offer, had a contract, and our prayers were answered. While waiting for the deal to be finalized, a rain storm flooded the lower level of our house and now our house is back on the market.
We can pray for our children to come back to the Lord and they become more determined than ever to go the other way. We can pray for God to deliver a friend from an addiction and observe the addiction grip them more tightly. We can pray for God to meet our needs and watch our bank account get smaller.
We become frustrated or resentful (or perhaps even stop praying) in these situations because we believe that God's promise to answer prayer is our guarantee of a smooth and easy life with no bumps in the road. We trust God and he fills the orders. The reality is that God sometimes responds to prayer by bringing more difficulty into our lives. That adversity deepens character, develops faith, and drives us to more desperately seek God. The difficulty may even become the means by which God answers our prayers, just like it was for the Hebrew slaves down in Egypt.
IV. We need to remember that unanswered prayer is not an indication of God's lack of power.
The delay in Israel's answer to prayer had nothing to do with God experiencing a power outage. God's power is all over the book of Exodus. I like to envision the exodus story as a real-life "smackdown" between God and Pharaoh, not like those of the fake variety that you see watching wrestling on television.
In this contest, there is first of all a battle of dueling words. In Exodus 5:1, Moses goes to Pharaoh and announces, "This is what the Lord says — 'Let my people go.'" Then in 5:10, the slave drivers announce, "This is what the Pharaoh says — "No more straw to make bricks for these lazy Hebrews.'" There's a challenge here — whose word is going to stand?
The next thing we see is a battle of dueling snakes in Exodus 7. Aaron's rod becomes a snake in front of the Pharaoh, but the Pharaoh isn't all that impressed because his magicians perform the same trick. But then, . . . Aaron's snake eats up the Egyptian snakes. What's the point? The cobra was the symbol of the Pharaoh's power, and the Egyptians worshipped cobra-deities that were supposed to protect them. The Pharaoh isn't ready to admit defeat, but Aaron's snake had the first "power lunch" in history.
Then, there is a battle of dueling deities in the story of the plagues in Exodus 7-13. The plagues are not just neat special effects that spice up the story; they are carefully designed polemics to stress the greatness of the Lord over the gods of Egypt. The Egyptians believed that Hapi protected the Nile, and so God turned the Nile into blood. They believed that Re was the god of the sun, and so God turned out the lights. They believed that the Pharaoh was a god incarnate, and so God took the life of his firstborn son.
Finally, at the Red Sea in Exodus 14, there is a battle of dueling warriors, when God the Divine Warrior bares his right arm and destroys the Egyptian army. The most powerful army on earth in that day was no match for the Lord. It was said of the Pharaoh of the exodus, "He will make a ruler of the land whom no one can attack."3 The Pharaoh found out the hard way who had real power.
Unanswered prayer doesn't void the omnipotence of God. There is nothing we can ask God that is beyond his ability to accomplish, but the greatest demonstrations of God's power are often found in his answers to our unanswered prayers. Bob Mitchell prayed for the safety of five young missionaries who went to the jungles of South America in order to share the gospel with the Auca Indians, but Jim Elliott and his four companions were brutally murdered. Years later, Mitchell attended a conference in Europe and met an evangelist who was one of the Auca Indians that had murdered Elliott and the other missionaries.4 Only God could orchestrate that kind of answer to an unanswered prayer.
We see in the exodus that the power of God is not something placed at Israel's disposal with the flip of a switch or the pull of a lever. The how and when of God's answer to prayer is determined by what brings him the greatest amount of glory. When God answered, it was done in a way so that even Pharaoh himself could not deny that Yahweh was God over all. Some of the greatest demonstrations of God's power we will ever experience come in God's answers to our unanswered prayers.
We pray to the same God as these Hebrew slaves. Whether God's answer to our prayers is "Yes," "No," or "Wait," his answers are always the perfect expression of his love and power in our lives.
_______________________
Gary Yates is Associate Professor of Old Testament at Liberty Baptist Theological Seminary in Lynchburg, VA.
Gary E. Yates
Exodus 2:22-23
Chaplain Max Helton prayed beside the car of Dale Earnhardt prior to the start of the 2001 Daytona 500. Earnhardt told Helton, "Just pray that I'll be wise in putting the car at the right place at the right time . . . and be able to drive with wisdom." Holding hands, they prayed for wisdom and safety. In that very race, Earnhardt lost his life in a final lap crash.
We have all had the experience of unanswered prayer. We pray for God's healing for a loved one. We pray for God to bring revival and renewal to our churches. We pray for the suicide bombings to end and for our troops to come home. Why does nothing seem to change when God has promised us, "Ask and you will receive"? Is Jesus being totally truthful when he tells us, "If you ask me anything in my name, I will do it"?
We will never have all the answers to unanswered prayer, but the story of the exodus in the Old Testament provides us with some important perspectives when we are struggling with the silence of heaven. In Exodus 2:23, Israel cries out for God to deliver them from their bondage in Egypt. The people waited for twelve long chapters, a wait that must have seemed like forever, before God completely answered their prayers. What we learn from their waiting will help us the next time we are struggling with unanswered prayer or God's answer is not what we have asked for or expected.
I. We need to remember that God is answering our prayers even before we pray them.
Before the people ever pray for deliverance, God has already begun the process of providing a deliverer. A baby at the beginning of chapter two is the unknown answer to the prayer at the end of chapter two. Even when Moses goes from being a prince in Egypt to a fugitive in Midian, there is a reminder that God has a special purpose for Moses's life. In Midian, Moses drives away a bunch of bullies who are harassing the daughters of Jethro and he waters their sheep. It foreshadows precisely what Moses is going to do for Israel — he's going to confront the biggest bully of all and then spend 40 years of his life taking care of God's sheep.
When you're waiting for an answer to prayer it helps to remember that God already has the answer worked out before we are even aware enough to know our need or articulate the words of our prayers. God knows the beginning, middle, and end of every circumstance and situation. Jesus reminds us that "your Father knows what you need before you ask him." Israel needed a deliverer and the Lord knew about it before Israel even asked.
II. We need to remember God's care and concern even when our prayers are not being answered.
God's complete answer to Israel's prayer in 2:23 doesn't come for twelve long chapters, but notice what follows immediately in verse 24 — a reminder of God's concern for his people. As soon as Israel "groans" and "cries," God "hears." God is immediately touched by the cry of his people.
The name of "Yahweh" is prominent in the book of Exodus. When Moses asks for God's name at the burning bush, God answers that his name is "I AM" (the first-person form of Yahweh) (3:14). What does that name mean? Why does the disclosure of the personal name of the God of the universe sound like the old Abbott and Costello routine "Who's on first?" This name "I am" could mean self-existence; it could mean eternality, but those ideas are really too abstract for what is conveyed in this story. Yahweh is God's covenant name, and it means that He is the ever-present helper who is there for his people. It means that God hears the cry of His people as soon as the cry goes up.
You don't have to use a magic formula to get God's attention. You don't have to build up enough faith to earn his answer. You don't have to weary God into giving in. God is concerned at the very moment we come to him with our needs and requests because we belong to him.
III. We need to remember that when we pray, things may get worse before they ever get better.
In the story of the exodus, the children of Israel prayed and things got a lot worse before they ever started to get better.1 In Exodus 5, Moses tells the Pharaoh, "Let my people go!" The Pharaoh's response was not to say, "Thank you, Moses, for bringing this gross injustice to my attention. I'll start the paperwork to expedite their release right away." His response was to take away the straw that the Hebrews had used to make bricks. Moses's career as a labor union negotiator did not get off to a brilliant start. The Pharaoh became more hard-hearted and oppressive than ever. Right before the ultimate deliverance at the Red Sea, Israel was between a rock and a hard place — the Red Sea in front of them and the Egyptian army behind them. God chose not to answer fully and finally until things were as bad as they could possibly be.
God has the freedom to answer our prayers in ways that we don't anticipate or understand. Jerry Sitser reminds us that prayer does not normally "send an arrow straight to the target" but rather more often than not "shoots an arrow that curves and ricochets and even appears to fall short."2 Because of a recent move, our family has been praying for the home that we own in Ohio to sell for more than a year. Then, we finally received an offer, had a contract, and our prayers were answered. While waiting for the deal to be finalized, a rain storm flooded the lower level of our house and now our house is back on the market.
We can pray for our children to come back to the Lord and they become more determined than ever to go the other way. We can pray for God to deliver a friend from an addiction and observe the addiction grip them more tightly. We can pray for God to meet our needs and watch our bank account get smaller.
We become frustrated or resentful (or perhaps even stop praying) in these situations because we believe that God's promise to answer prayer is our guarantee of a smooth and easy life with no bumps in the road. We trust God and he fills the orders. The reality is that God sometimes responds to prayer by bringing more difficulty into our lives. That adversity deepens character, develops faith, and drives us to more desperately seek God. The difficulty may even become the means by which God answers our prayers, just like it was for the Hebrew slaves down in Egypt.
IV. We need to remember that unanswered prayer is not an indication of God's lack of power.
The delay in Israel's answer to prayer had nothing to do with God experiencing a power outage. God's power is all over the book of Exodus. I like to envision the exodus story as a real-life "smackdown" between God and Pharaoh, not like those of the fake variety that you see watching wrestling on television.
In this contest, there is first of all a battle of dueling words. In Exodus 5:1, Moses goes to Pharaoh and announces, "This is what the Lord says — 'Let my people go.'" Then in 5:10, the slave drivers announce, "This is what the Pharaoh says — "No more straw to make bricks for these lazy Hebrews.'" There's a challenge here — whose word is going to stand?
The next thing we see is a battle of dueling snakes in Exodus 7. Aaron's rod becomes a snake in front of the Pharaoh, but the Pharaoh isn't all that impressed because his magicians perform the same trick. But then, . . . Aaron's snake eats up the Egyptian snakes. What's the point? The cobra was the symbol of the Pharaoh's power, and the Egyptians worshipped cobra-deities that were supposed to protect them. The Pharaoh isn't ready to admit defeat, but Aaron's snake had the first "power lunch" in history.
Then, there is a battle of dueling deities in the story of the plagues in Exodus 7-13. The plagues are not just neat special effects that spice up the story; they are carefully designed polemics to stress the greatness of the Lord over the gods of Egypt. The Egyptians believed that Hapi protected the Nile, and so God turned the Nile into blood. They believed that Re was the god of the sun, and so God turned out the lights. They believed that the Pharaoh was a god incarnate, and so God took the life of his firstborn son.
Finally, at the Red Sea in Exodus 14, there is a battle of dueling warriors, when God the Divine Warrior bares his right arm and destroys the Egyptian army. The most powerful army on earth in that day was no match for the Lord. It was said of the Pharaoh of the exodus, "He will make a ruler of the land whom no one can attack."3 The Pharaoh found out the hard way who had real power.
Unanswered prayer doesn't void the omnipotence of God. There is nothing we can ask God that is beyond his ability to accomplish, but the greatest demonstrations of God's power are often found in his answers to our unanswered prayers. Bob Mitchell prayed for the safety of five young missionaries who went to the jungles of South America in order to share the gospel with the Auca Indians, but Jim Elliott and his four companions were brutally murdered. Years later, Mitchell attended a conference in Europe and met an evangelist who was one of the Auca Indians that had murdered Elliott and the other missionaries.4 Only God could orchestrate that kind of answer to an unanswered prayer.
We see in the exodus that the power of God is not something placed at Israel's disposal with the flip of a switch or the pull of a lever. The how and when of God's answer to prayer is determined by what brings him the greatest amount of glory. When God answered, it was done in a way so that even Pharaoh himself could not deny that Yahweh was God over all. Some of the greatest demonstrations of God's power we will ever experience come in God's answers to our unanswered prayers.
We pray to the same God as these Hebrew slaves. Whether God's answer to our prayers is "Yes," "No," or "Wait," his answers are always the perfect expression of his love and power in our lives.
_______________________
Gary Yates is Associate Professor of Old Testament at Liberty Baptist Theological Seminary in Lynchburg, VA.
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
October 25, 2011
Get Up and Get Going
“Nobody’s perfect!” It’s a phrase we often use and hear. It’s usually thrown out as quick cover for some personal mistake or failure. Without much remorse, and as a kind of justifiable excuse, we frequently lean on the plea that everybody makes mistakes.
The fact is, everybody does make mistakes and “nobody’s perfect.” But this reality shouldn’t make us insensitive to our failures. Sins, mistakes and failures call for an appropriate heart response from us.
What is the right response when we miss the mark in our walk with God? How do we recover from spiritual falls and failures?
Take a look at what the Bible says about this:
If we claim to be without sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness. — 1 John 1:8, 9 (NIV)
This is a wonderful promise from God. It tells us about the pathway to forgiveness and spiritual restoration. Let’s take a look at the road that brings us back from our failures.
Spiritual recovery and restoration involves at least 5 steps:
1. Conviction.
We cannot deal with a sin or failure that we don’t see. The Holy Spirit works in us to show us our sins. He helps us to see where we’re missing the mark with God. Our responsibility is to keep a tender, sensitive heart that is quick to hear and respond to the Holy Spirit’s convicting work when He points out something in us that is wrong.
2. Contrition.
Conviction should lead us to true contrition. To be contrite is to be broken, humbled, genuinely sorry for sin. It is to recognize the ugliness of it, and to have a deep desire to get rid of it. Contrition makes real repentance possible. The Bible describes contrition as “godly sorrow.” (See 2 Corinthians 7:10.)
3. Confession.
Real contrition leads to confession. The original Greek word translated “confession” in the English Bible is “homologeo.” It means “to say the same thing; to speak the same word.” To confess our sins to God is to say the same the same thing about them that God says about them. It is to own up to them. It is to take responsibility for them. It is to refuse to justify, excuse or rationalize them. Confession means that we agree with God and His Word about the wrongness of our words, actions and attitudes.
4. Consideration.
An important part of spiritual restoration is consideration — considering lessons we need to learn from our failures. When we’ve messed up in some way, we need to mine spiritual lessons out of our failures — lessons that will benefit us in the future. Taking time to think about and glean wisdom from mistakes is a key to continued growth and maturity.
5. Confidence.
Failure robs us of confidence. When we’ve missed the mark, made a mistake, or fallen prey to the devil’s traps, we sometimes become our own worst enemy. We ruthlessly beat ourselves mentally and emotionally over the foolish thing we said, thought or did. Even after repenting and confessing our sins sincerely to God, we regularly let unnecessary, destructive guilt eat away at us. Satan eagerly piles on with his harsh accusations and unrelenting condemnation, telling us that God hasn’t forgiven us, that we’re useless, worthless and hopeless. Don’t beat yourself up and don’t buy Satan’s lies. Remember that God is gracious, loving, kind, forgiving and compassionate. He is the God of new opportunities, fresh starts and clean slates. Accept His grace and get going again. Be confident in the forgiveness of God!
Have you failed God and disappointed yourself recently? Don’t stay down. Get on the road to restoration. Get a fresh start with God today. Get up and get going again!
Pastor Dale
“Nobody’s perfect!” It’s a phrase we often use and hear. It’s usually thrown out as quick cover for some personal mistake or failure. Without much remorse, and as a kind of justifiable excuse, we frequently lean on the plea that everybody makes mistakes.
The fact is, everybody does make mistakes and “nobody’s perfect.” But this reality shouldn’t make us insensitive to our failures. Sins, mistakes and failures call for an appropriate heart response from us.
What is the right response when we miss the mark in our walk with God? How do we recover from spiritual falls and failures?
Take a look at what the Bible says about this:
If we claim to be without sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness. — 1 John 1:8, 9 (NIV)
This is a wonderful promise from God. It tells us about the pathway to forgiveness and spiritual restoration. Let’s take a look at the road that brings us back from our failures.
Spiritual recovery and restoration involves at least 5 steps:
1. Conviction.
We cannot deal with a sin or failure that we don’t see. The Holy Spirit works in us to show us our sins. He helps us to see where we’re missing the mark with God. Our responsibility is to keep a tender, sensitive heart that is quick to hear and respond to the Holy Spirit’s convicting work when He points out something in us that is wrong.
2. Contrition.
Conviction should lead us to true contrition. To be contrite is to be broken, humbled, genuinely sorry for sin. It is to recognize the ugliness of it, and to have a deep desire to get rid of it. Contrition makes real repentance possible. The Bible describes contrition as “godly sorrow.” (See 2 Corinthians 7:10.)
3. Confession.
Real contrition leads to confession. The original Greek word translated “confession” in the English Bible is “homologeo.” It means “to say the same thing; to speak the same word.” To confess our sins to God is to say the same the same thing about them that God says about them. It is to own up to them. It is to take responsibility for them. It is to refuse to justify, excuse or rationalize them. Confession means that we agree with God and His Word about the wrongness of our words, actions and attitudes.
4. Consideration.
An important part of spiritual restoration is consideration — considering lessons we need to learn from our failures. When we’ve messed up in some way, we need to mine spiritual lessons out of our failures — lessons that will benefit us in the future. Taking time to think about and glean wisdom from mistakes is a key to continued growth and maturity.
5. Confidence.
Failure robs us of confidence. When we’ve missed the mark, made a mistake, or fallen prey to the devil’s traps, we sometimes become our own worst enemy. We ruthlessly beat ourselves mentally and emotionally over the foolish thing we said, thought or did. Even after repenting and confessing our sins sincerely to God, we regularly let unnecessary, destructive guilt eat away at us. Satan eagerly piles on with his harsh accusations and unrelenting condemnation, telling us that God hasn’t forgiven us, that we’re useless, worthless and hopeless. Don’t beat yourself up and don’t buy Satan’s lies. Remember that God is gracious, loving, kind, forgiving and compassionate. He is the God of new opportunities, fresh starts and clean slates. Accept His grace and get going again. Be confident in the forgiveness of God!
Have you failed God and disappointed yourself recently? Don’t stay down. Get on the road to restoration. Get a fresh start with God today. Get up and get going again!
Pastor Dale
Monday, October 24, 2011
October 24, 2011
Why is Tebow so hated?
Jelisa Castrodale
NBCSports.com contributor
updated 2:10pm ET, Tue. Oct 18, 2011
When I was a kid, I was a seriously picky eater, mashing every home-cooked meal into an unappealing, untouched smudge in the center of my plate. My parents would sigh, give me whatever peanut butter-smeared combination of carbohydrates I'd accept, and hope that I'd eventually try foods that didn't have a 10-year shelf life. I lived on JIF and grape jelly until until my mother noticed the laundry-faded Los Angeles Rams jersey I wore every day and said, "Jim Everett eats his vegetables. He wants you to eat yours." She was close - most of the NFC fed him a steady diet of Anaheim Stadium grass that season - but it worked.
I imagine that somewhere in the Colorado suburbs, a harried mother is lifting a fork toward a reluctant elementary schooler, hissing through clenched teeth, "C'mon. Tim Tebow wants you to eat your vegetables." And I'm sure he does. If asked politely, he'd probably make an appearance in their kitchen with a glass of milk, an orthodontically enhanced smile and a passage from Corinthians. After everyone's plates were cleaner than his reputation, he'd politely excuse himself, returning home to spend the evening hand-carving a set of wooden prosthetics for a limbless orphan.
I'm only half-kidding. He'd probably opt for Galatians instead. But the very real possibility of that scenario is why Tebow has spent the past two seasons as the NFL's most intensely scrutinized, incessantly criticized second-string quarterback ... and now he can be the most incessantly criticized starter.
It should be impossible for anyone to dislike Tebow, the person. He tweets individual fans to thank them for coming to his book signings, he takes Special Olympics participants to rock concerts, and is deeply involved with the foundation that wears his name, the one that raises money for orphanages and pediatric cancer centers.
So what does he get in return? A @WhyTebowSucks twitter account, infrequently updated websites such as TebowHaters.com and TimmyTebowSucks.com and an Official "I Hate Tim Tebow" Facebook page. There was an ESPN "Outside the Lines" piece that spent 10 minutes reminding everyone how polarizing he is. Even Hulk Hogan took an afternoon away from taping an episode of his wrestling dwarf reality show to bash Tebow on "SportsNation."
Tebow is, obviously, a good guy. A great guy. But he's also been propped up as the personification of virtue, spending the past five years as an archetype more than an athlete. That's not to diminish Tebow's athletic abilities - he's a first-round draft pick who's built like a bomb shelter - but he's been put in a position to attract additional criticism, a different, darker kind of denunciation than he'd get if we knew nothing of his life beyond those mile-high sidelines.
The NFL's other backup-turned-starters don't generate this type of negativity. There's never this kind of eye-rolling reaction to, say, Minnesota's Christian Ponder, so we're left to - and you know EXACTLY what I'm going to say here - ponder the Christian.
The personal attacks and angry facial expressions that follow Tebow seem to have less to do with Denver's 1-4 record than they do with Romans 1:16, which reads "For I am not ashamed of the Gospel of Christ." That's one of the verses Tebow inked beneath his eyes at Florida, during that season when his eyeblack had more Scripture than the bedside table at an airport Sheraton.
I'd be exaggerating if I described myself as a Tim Tebow fan. Despite the St. Christopher medal suffocating in the back of my glove box, I don't consider myself religious; the closest I get to Jesus is a middle-of-the-night airing of "The Big Lebowski." But I do sympathize with Tebow for the slings and arrows he endures, including the endless examination of his beliefs.
Want an example? At the 2009 SEC Media Day, Tebow had to respond to inquiries about his sex life, respectfully fielding the kind of questions Ben Roethlisberger hired a lawyer to avoid.
Although Tebow doesn't invoke the apostles in interviews often as he did in college, his detractors often cite the fact that he "forces" his Christianity on them. That isn't the case at all; he simply is his faith and, at this point, anyone who follows his Twitter feed, attends his public appearances or listens to his testimonials shouldn't be surprised when they don't involve his version of "The Aristocrats".
Then there are those who sit with their hands hovering expectantly over their keyboards, just waiting for what they'll see as his inevitable misstep. They want to catch him sneaking into The Human Centipede or illegally downloading The Human Centipede or actually building a Human Centipede. They want him to be exposed as a phony, a fraud or - to borrow a word from the New Testament - a hypocrite. I don't see that happening. Just because Tebow has character doesn't mean he's playing one.
But yeah, sometimes he comes across as the Gallant side of every Highlights magazine cartoon ever. Yeah, the constant platitudes for his teammates and pledges to work harder and cloyingly positive attitude can make you shout "CAN IT, DUDLEY DO-RIGHT" at your television screen, assuming you're old enough to remember either Bullwinkle or Brendan Frasier's career.
Maybe it's hard to like Tebow because he makes us feel worse about our lives. Not in an MTV Cribs "I'll never have a pair of solid gold pants" kind of way, but because he's held himself to a standard that we know we can't reach. When we ask ourselves "What would Tim Tebow do?", the answer - at least for me - is "Not this." He wouldn't pocket the stack of change from Exxon's Take A Penny jar. He wouldn't ignore the elderly woman struggling to push her groceries to her car. He wouldn't make snap judgments about NFL sophomores who play two time zones to the left.
Maybe that's why it's easier to embrace a me-first NBA player who calls himself "King James" than to accept the humble NFL-er who quotes King James. Maybe that's why Tebow's around-the-clock commitment to Christ is a tougher sell than the empty gestures airmailed from the end zone, why we no longer notice when every third-down back high-fives the Almighty after a garbage-time touchdown.
Speaking of garbage, the Denver Broncos finished with a franchise worst 4-12 record last season and have sputtered to a 1-4 start, thanks in part to Kyle Orton's 58.7 completion percentage. Other players would've turned water to whine by now, speaking out of turn, criticizing the coaching strategy or strongly suggesting that they get a chance to start. Not Tebow, who stood supportively on the sidelines, ears tucked beneath a mesh-backed hat as he reminded himself that thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's playing time.
But apparently the meek shall inherit the turf, and there couldn't be a better set of circumstances for Tebow's first 2011 start. Denver's opponent, the still-winless Miami Dolphins are - inexplicably -hosting Florida Gator Dayto celebrate the team's 2008 BCS championship. Tebow will be honored before the game and cheered by a crowd that will probably look as orange and blue as the INVESCO Field stands. Tebow had one college start at the Dolphins' stadium, when he and the Gators collected that championship over Sam Bradford's Oklahoma Sooners. Tebow completed 18 of 30 passes for 231 yards, and Noah-approved pairs of TDs and INTs. He also rushed for 109 yards.
"I'm honored to get this opportunity," Tebow said of his upcoming start. "I'm very excited. I just know that every day I'm going to come out here and practice."
Listen to him! He's like Ned Flanders in a football uniform! How will he fare on the field? I'm not sure it matters. Tebow has been rotisseried since training camp, with most of the analysts serving their feelings beside criticism of his unorthodox throwing motion. His mechanics will be dissected from the pregame show until the studio lights dim for the night. If Tebow succeeds, it's in spite of his technique; if he fails, it's because of it.
John Elway, Denver's chief of football operations, will be keeping one icy blue eye on Tebow and one on fellow Stanford QB Andrew Luck. First-year coach John Fox will just be relieved not to see the words "Jake Delhomme" on his depth chart. And Kyle Orton will sit sullenly on the bench, ignoring Tebow's worn copy of Chicken Soup for the Second Stringer's Soul.
Tebow has been silent since being named the starter. He hasn't Tweeted since typing "Philippians 2:3" ("Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit") on the day he led Denver to an emotionally charged almost-comeback over the Chargers. He closed his post with "GB²", his acronym that stands for "God Bless, Go Broncos." That's as perfect a summary of Tebow as you can get: He's a Christian first, a football player second.
That won't change whether Tebow wins or loses, whether he starts or stands, whether you love him or hate him. He is who he is, and I'll always respect him for that. I might even eat my vegetables.
Jelisa Castrodale has learned a lot about life by making a mess of her own. Read more at jelisacastrodale.com
Jelisa Castrodale
NBCSports.com contributor
updated 2:10pm ET, Tue. Oct 18, 2011
When I was a kid, I was a seriously picky eater, mashing every home-cooked meal into an unappealing, untouched smudge in the center of my plate. My parents would sigh, give me whatever peanut butter-smeared combination of carbohydrates I'd accept, and hope that I'd eventually try foods that didn't have a 10-year shelf life. I lived on JIF and grape jelly until until my mother noticed the laundry-faded Los Angeles Rams jersey I wore every day and said, "Jim Everett eats his vegetables. He wants you to eat yours." She was close - most of the NFC fed him a steady diet of Anaheim Stadium grass that season - but it worked.
I imagine that somewhere in the Colorado suburbs, a harried mother is lifting a fork toward a reluctant elementary schooler, hissing through clenched teeth, "C'mon. Tim Tebow wants you to eat your vegetables." And I'm sure he does. If asked politely, he'd probably make an appearance in their kitchen with a glass of milk, an orthodontically enhanced smile and a passage from Corinthians. After everyone's plates were cleaner than his reputation, he'd politely excuse himself, returning home to spend the evening hand-carving a set of wooden prosthetics for a limbless orphan.
I'm only half-kidding. He'd probably opt for Galatians instead. But the very real possibility of that scenario is why Tebow has spent the past two seasons as the NFL's most intensely scrutinized, incessantly criticized second-string quarterback ... and now he can be the most incessantly criticized starter.
It should be impossible for anyone to dislike Tebow, the person. He tweets individual fans to thank them for coming to his book signings, he takes Special Olympics participants to rock concerts, and is deeply involved with the foundation that wears his name, the one that raises money for orphanages and pediatric cancer centers.
So what does he get in return? A @WhyTebowSucks twitter account, infrequently updated websites such as TebowHaters.com and TimmyTebowSucks.com and an Official "I Hate Tim Tebow" Facebook page. There was an ESPN "Outside the Lines" piece that spent 10 minutes reminding everyone how polarizing he is. Even Hulk Hogan took an afternoon away from taping an episode of his wrestling dwarf reality show to bash Tebow on "SportsNation."
Tebow is, obviously, a good guy. A great guy. But he's also been propped up as the personification of virtue, spending the past five years as an archetype more than an athlete. That's not to diminish Tebow's athletic abilities - he's a first-round draft pick who's built like a bomb shelter - but he's been put in a position to attract additional criticism, a different, darker kind of denunciation than he'd get if we knew nothing of his life beyond those mile-high sidelines.
The NFL's other backup-turned-starters don't generate this type of negativity. There's never this kind of eye-rolling reaction to, say, Minnesota's Christian Ponder, so we're left to - and you know EXACTLY what I'm going to say here - ponder the Christian.
The personal attacks and angry facial expressions that follow Tebow seem to have less to do with Denver's 1-4 record than they do with Romans 1:16, which reads "For I am not ashamed of the Gospel of Christ." That's one of the verses Tebow inked beneath his eyes at Florida, during that season when his eyeblack had more Scripture than the bedside table at an airport Sheraton.
I'd be exaggerating if I described myself as a Tim Tebow fan. Despite the St. Christopher medal suffocating in the back of my glove box, I don't consider myself religious; the closest I get to Jesus is a middle-of-the-night airing of "The Big Lebowski." But I do sympathize with Tebow for the slings and arrows he endures, including the endless examination of his beliefs.
Want an example? At the 2009 SEC Media Day, Tebow had to respond to inquiries about his sex life, respectfully fielding the kind of questions Ben Roethlisberger hired a lawyer to avoid.
Although Tebow doesn't invoke the apostles in interviews often as he did in college, his detractors often cite the fact that he "forces" his Christianity on them. That isn't the case at all; he simply is his faith and, at this point, anyone who follows his Twitter feed, attends his public appearances or listens to his testimonials shouldn't be surprised when they don't involve his version of "The Aristocrats".
Then there are those who sit with their hands hovering expectantly over their keyboards, just waiting for what they'll see as his inevitable misstep. They want to catch him sneaking into The Human Centipede or illegally downloading The Human Centipede or actually building a Human Centipede. They want him to be exposed as a phony, a fraud or - to borrow a word from the New Testament - a hypocrite. I don't see that happening. Just because Tebow has character doesn't mean he's playing one.
But yeah, sometimes he comes across as the Gallant side of every Highlights magazine cartoon ever. Yeah, the constant platitudes for his teammates and pledges to work harder and cloyingly positive attitude can make you shout "CAN IT, DUDLEY DO-RIGHT" at your television screen, assuming you're old enough to remember either Bullwinkle or Brendan Frasier's career.
Maybe it's hard to like Tebow because he makes us feel worse about our lives. Not in an MTV Cribs "I'll never have a pair of solid gold pants" kind of way, but because he's held himself to a standard that we know we can't reach. When we ask ourselves "What would Tim Tebow do?", the answer - at least for me - is "Not this." He wouldn't pocket the stack of change from Exxon's Take A Penny jar. He wouldn't ignore the elderly woman struggling to push her groceries to her car. He wouldn't make snap judgments about NFL sophomores who play two time zones to the left.
Maybe that's why it's easier to embrace a me-first NBA player who calls himself "King James" than to accept the humble NFL-er who quotes King James. Maybe that's why Tebow's around-the-clock commitment to Christ is a tougher sell than the empty gestures airmailed from the end zone, why we no longer notice when every third-down back high-fives the Almighty after a garbage-time touchdown.
Speaking of garbage, the Denver Broncos finished with a franchise worst 4-12 record last season and have sputtered to a 1-4 start, thanks in part to Kyle Orton's 58.7 completion percentage. Other players would've turned water to whine by now, speaking out of turn, criticizing the coaching strategy or strongly suggesting that they get a chance to start. Not Tebow, who stood supportively on the sidelines, ears tucked beneath a mesh-backed hat as he reminded himself that thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's playing time.
But apparently the meek shall inherit the turf, and there couldn't be a better set of circumstances for Tebow's first 2011 start. Denver's opponent, the still-winless Miami Dolphins are - inexplicably -hosting Florida Gator Dayto celebrate the team's 2008 BCS championship. Tebow will be honored before the game and cheered by a crowd that will probably look as orange and blue as the INVESCO Field stands. Tebow had one college start at the Dolphins' stadium, when he and the Gators collected that championship over Sam Bradford's Oklahoma Sooners. Tebow completed 18 of 30 passes for 231 yards, and Noah-approved pairs of TDs and INTs. He also rushed for 109 yards.
"I'm honored to get this opportunity," Tebow said of his upcoming start. "I'm very excited. I just know that every day I'm going to come out here and practice."
Listen to him! He's like Ned Flanders in a football uniform! How will he fare on the field? I'm not sure it matters. Tebow has been rotisseried since training camp, with most of the analysts serving their feelings beside criticism of his unorthodox throwing motion. His mechanics will be dissected from the pregame show until the studio lights dim for the night. If Tebow succeeds, it's in spite of his technique; if he fails, it's because of it.
John Elway, Denver's chief of football operations, will be keeping one icy blue eye on Tebow and one on fellow Stanford QB Andrew Luck. First-year coach John Fox will just be relieved not to see the words "Jake Delhomme" on his depth chart. And Kyle Orton will sit sullenly on the bench, ignoring Tebow's worn copy of Chicken Soup for the Second Stringer's Soul.
Tebow has been silent since being named the starter. He hasn't Tweeted since typing "Philippians 2:3" ("Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit") on the day he led Denver to an emotionally charged almost-comeback over the Chargers. He closed his post with "GB²", his acronym that stands for "God Bless, Go Broncos." That's as perfect a summary of Tebow as you can get: He's a Christian first, a football player second.
That won't change whether Tebow wins or loses, whether he starts or stands, whether you love him or hate him. He is who he is, and I'll always respect him for that. I might even eat my vegetables.
Jelisa Castrodale has learned a lot about life by making a mess of her own. Read more at jelisacastrodale.com
October 20, 2011
Do We Believe the Whole Gospel?
R.C. Sproul
Renewing Your Mind
Unbelief. This one word expresses the judgment Emil Brunner, the Swiss "crisis theologian," used to describe nineteenth-century liberal theology. The rise of such liberalism was a conscious synthesis between naturalism in the world of philosophy and historic Christianity. Liberalism sought to de-supernaturalize the Christian faith and to restrict the modern significance of Jesus and the New Testament to ethical considerations, particularly with respect to the needs of human beings, and especially with respect to their material needs.
This provoked a significant dilemma for the organized church, first in Europe and then in America. If an institution repudiates the very foundation upon which it is built and for which it exists, what happens to the billions of dollars worth of church property and its numerous ordained professionals? The clergy were left with nothing to preach except social concerns. In order to maintain a reason for the continued existence of Christianity as an organized religion, nineteenth-century liberalism turned to a new gospel, dubbed the "social gospel." This was a gospel that focused on considerations of humanitarianism and had at the core of its agenda a commitment to "social justice."
The use of the term "social justice" involved an ironic twisting of words. What was in view in this philosophy was basically the redistribution of wealth, following the template of socialism. The false assumption of this so-called social justice was that material wealth can be gained only by means of the exploitation of the poor. Ergo, for a society to be just, the wealth must be redistributed by government authority. In reality, this so-called social justice degenerated into social injustice, where penalties were levied on those who were legitimately productive and non-productivity was rewarded — a bizarre concept of justice indeed.
The rise in importance of the social gospel provoked a controversy known in church history as the "modernist-fundamentalist controversy," which raged in the early years of the twentieth century. This controversy witnessed an unholy dichotomy between two poles of Christian concern. On the one hand, there was the classic concern of personal redemption accomplished by Christ through His atoning death on the cross, which brought reconciliation for those who put their trust in Jesus. On the other hand there was the consideration of the material well-being of human beings in this world right now. It included the consideration of clothing the naked, feeding the hungry, giving shelter to the homeless, and caring for the poor.
Many evangelicals at this period in history, in order to preserve the central significance of the proclamation of the gospel of Jesus Christ, gave renewed emphasis to evangelism. In many cases, this emphasis upon evangelism was done to the exclusion of the other pole of biblical concern, namely, mercy ministry to those who were poor, afflicted, and suffering. So glaring was the dichotomy between liberal and evangelical concerns that, sadly, many evangelicals began to distance themselves from any involvement in mercy ministries, lest their activities be construed as a surrender to liberalism.
The fallacy of the false dilemma takes two important truths and forces one to choose between them. The assumption of the either/or fallacy is that of two particular matters, only one is true while the other is false; therefore, one is required to choose between the true and the false. The either/or fallacy that stood before the church in this period was either the gospel of personal redemption or the gospel of social concern for the material welfare of human beings.
Even a cursory reading of the New Testament, however, makes it clear that the concerns of Jesus and of the New Testament writers cannot be reduced to an either/or dilemma. The problem with this fallacy, as with all fallacies, is that truth becomes severely distorted. The New Testament does not allow for this false dilemma. The choice that the church has is never between personal salvation and mercy ministry. It is rather a both/and proposition. Neither pole can be properly swallowed by the other. To reduce Christianity either to a program of social welfare or to a program of personal redemption results in a truncated gospel that is a profound distortion.
Historically, before the outbreak of nineteenth-century liberalism, the church did not seem to struggle with this false dichotomy. For centuries, the church understood her task as both to proclaim the saving gospel of the atoning work of Christ and, at the same time, to follow Jesus' example of ministry to the blind, to the deaf, to the imprisoned, to the hungry, to the homeless, and to the poor. The ministry of the church, if it is to be healthy, must always be firmly committed to both dimensions of the biblical mandate, that we may be faithful to Christ Himself. If we reject either the ministry of personal redemption or of mercy to the afflicted, we express "unbelief."
Dr. R.C. Sproul is president of Ligonier Academy of Biblical and Theological Studies and the author of the booklet How Should I Live in This World?
R.C. Sproul
Renewing Your Mind
Unbelief. This one word expresses the judgment Emil Brunner, the Swiss "crisis theologian," used to describe nineteenth-century liberal theology. The rise of such liberalism was a conscious synthesis between naturalism in the world of philosophy and historic Christianity. Liberalism sought to de-supernaturalize the Christian faith and to restrict the modern significance of Jesus and the New Testament to ethical considerations, particularly with respect to the needs of human beings, and especially with respect to their material needs.
This provoked a significant dilemma for the organized church, first in Europe and then in America. If an institution repudiates the very foundation upon which it is built and for which it exists, what happens to the billions of dollars worth of church property and its numerous ordained professionals? The clergy were left with nothing to preach except social concerns. In order to maintain a reason for the continued existence of Christianity as an organized religion, nineteenth-century liberalism turned to a new gospel, dubbed the "social gospel." This was a gospel that focused on considerations of humanitarianism and had at the core of its agenda a commitment to "social justice."
The use of the term "social justice" involved an ironic twisting of words. What was in view in this philosophy was basically the redistribution of wealth, following the template of socialism. The false assumption of this so-called social justice was that material wealth can be gained only by means of the exploitation of the poor. Ergo, for a society to be just, the wealth must be redistributed by government authority. In reality, this so-called social justice degenerated into social injustice, where penalties were levied on those who were legitimately productive and non-productivity was rewarded — a bizarre concept of justice indeed.
The rise in importance of the social gospel provoked a controversy known in church history as the "modernist-fundamentalist controversy," which raged in the early years of the twentieth century. This controversy witnessed an unholy dichotomy between two poles of Christian concern. On the one hand, there was the classic concern of personal redemption accomplished by Christ through His atoning death on the cross, which brought reconciliation for those who put their trust in Jesus. On the other hand there was the consideration of the material well-being of human beings in this world right now. It included the consideration of clothing the naked, feeding the hungry, giving shelter to the homeless, and caring for the poor.
Many evangelicals at this period in history, in order to preserve the central significance of the proclamation of the gospel of Jesus Christ, gave renewed emphasis to evangelism. In many cases, this emphasis upon evangelism was done to the exclusion of the other pole of biblical concern, namely, mercy ministry to those who were poor, afflicted, and suffering. So glaring was the dichotomy between liberal and evangelical concerns that, sadly, many evangelicals began to distance themselves from any involvement in mercy ministries, lest their activities be construed as a surrender to liberalism.
The fallacy of the false dilemma takes two important truths and forces one to choose between them. The assumption of the either/or fallacy is that of two particular matters, only one is true while the other is false; therefore, one is required to choose between the true and the false. The either/or fallacy that stood before the church in this period was either the gospel of personal redemption or the gospel of social concern for the material welfare of human beings.
Even a cursory reading of the New Testament, however, makes it clear that the concerns of Jesus and of the New Testament writers cannot be reduced to an either/or dilemma. The problem with this fallacy, as with all fallacies, is that truth becomes severely distorted. The New Testament does not allow for this false dilemma. The choice that the church has is never between personal salvation and mercy ministry. It is rather a both/and proposition. Neither pole can be properly swallowed by the other. To reduce Christianity either to a program of social welfare or to a program of personal redemption results in a truncated gospel that is a profound distortion.
Historically, before the outbreak of nineteenth-century liberalism, the church did not seem to struggle with this false dichotomy. For centuries, the church understood her task as both to proclaim the saving gospel of the atoning work of Christ and, at the same time, to follow Jesus' example of ministry to the blind, to the deaf, to the imprisoned, to the hungry, to the homeless, and to the poor. The ministry of the church, if it is to be healthy, must always be firmly committed to both dimensions of the biblical mandate, that we may be faithful to Christ Himself. If we reject either the ministry of personal redemption or of mercy to the afflicted, we express "unbelief."
Dr. R.C. Sproul is president of Ligonier Academy of Biblical and Theological Studies and the author of the booklet How Should I Live in This World?
Thursday, October 20, 2011
October 20, 2011
Keep On Praying
Some things take time. On more than one occasion I’ve found myself salivating in front of our kitchen oven anxiously anticipating a slice of cake my wife was baking. My question to her usually is, “How much longer before it’s done?”, sometimes followed by, “Can I have a piece now?” She refuses to be moved by my impatience! She reminds me that I can’t have cake until the cake’s done.
A cake is at its best when it’s done. And it’s not done until it’s done! No matter how good it smells or how much we want it now, a cake takes time to bake. Our impatience doesn’t speed up the process.
We need to be reminded of this principle when it comes to prayer. As much as we want our prayers to be answered immediately, they’re not always answered immediately. Sometimes our prayers take time to work. Why? It’s not because of a lack of God’s power.
Sometimes answers to prayer take time because of the resistance of someone or something to the will of God. God never forces His plans and desires on people or into situations. He works gently and consistently to persuade people to follow Him and to shape circumstances in ways that please Him. When we keep on praying for those who are outside of God’s will and for situations that are contrary to God’s will, it’s an invitation for the Holy Spirit to continue exercising His wooing and shaping grace and influence on people and circumstances.
At times our prayers require patience and persistence because of the spiritual resistance of our enemy; the devil. When we pray we’re engaging in spiritual battle. Battles are not generally won overnight. When going up against stubborn spiritual strongholds, we should expect to invest time in the prayer process, praying until victory comes.
There’re also times when God’s silence and seeming unresponsiveness to our prayers is specifically designed by Him as a faith-testing, faith-growing experience for us. In these seasons, God helps us develop greater spiritual grit and stronger faith muscles. Delayed answers to prayer should drive us deeper in our relationship with God, challenging and encouraging us to trust Him more.
The Bible teaches us to keep on praying, even when answers aren’t apparent or forthcoming. Take a look at a couple of encouraging Scripture verses:
One day Jesus told His disciples a story to show that they should always pray and never give up. — Luke 18:1 (NLT)
Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up. — Galatians 6:9 (NIV)
Some things take time. They’re not done until they’re done. Prayer is one of those things. Don’t give up. Keep on praying!
Pastor Dale
Some things take time. On more than one occasion I’ve found myself salivating in front of our kitchen oven anxiously anticipating a slice of cake my wife was baking. My question to her usually is, “How much longer before it’s done?”, sometimes followed by, “Can I have a piece now?” She refuses to be moved by my impatience! She reminds me that I can’t have cake until the cake’s done.
A cake is at its best when it’s done. And it’s not done until it’s done! No matter how good it smells or how much we want it now, a cake takes time to bake. Our impatience doesn’t speed up the process.
We need to be reminded of this principle when it comes to prayer. As much as we want our prayers to be answered immediately, they’re not always answered immediately. Sometimes our prayers take time to work. Why? It’s not because of a lack of God’s power.
Sometimes answers to prayer take time because of the resistance of someone or something to the will of God. God never forces His plans and desires on people or into situations. He works gently and consistently to persuade people to follow Him and to shape circumstances in ways that please Him. When we keep on praying for those who are outside of God’s will and for situations that are contrary to God’s will, it’s an invitation for the Holy Spirit to continue exercising His wooing and shaping grace and influence on people and circumstances.
At times our prayers require patience and persistence because of the spiritual resistance of our enemy; the devil. When we pray we’re engaging in spiritual battle. Battles are not generally won overnight. When going up against stubborn spiritual strongholds, we should expect to invest time in the prayer process, praying until victory comes.
There’re also times when God’s silence and seeming unresponsiveness to our prayers is specifically designed by Him as a faith-testing, faith-growing experience for us. In these seasons, God helps us develop greater spiritual grit and stronger faith muscles. Delayed answers to prayer should drive us deeper in our relationship with God, challenging and encouraging us to trust Him more.
The Bible teaches us to keep on praying, even when answers aren’t apparent or forthcoming. Take a look at a couple of encouraging Scripture verses:
One day Jesus told His disciples a story to show that they should always pray and never give up. — Luke 18:1 (NLT)
Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up. — Galatians 6:9 (NIV)
Some things take time. They’re not done until they’re done. Prayer is one of those things. Don’t give up. Keep on praying!
Pastor Dale
October 19, 2011
The Seven Non-Negotiables for Life
Dennis Rainey
If you've ever purchased a car, you've seen the owner's manual. It's the book that tells you about the "non-negotiables" for maintaining the car. These are things like changing the oil, filling the tank with gasoline, topping off the transmission fluid, and having tires with adequate tread. We spend a lot of time making sure these non-negotiables are done so that when we get in the car, it runs properly.
The same principle is true for the life of a believer. We must spend time on the non-negotiables so that our lives may glorify God. But what are the non-negotiables? They must be defined in order to maintain and fulfill them. In seeking the Lord, I have discovered what I believe to be seven non-negotiables for life. Each principle is centered on the Lord, bringing the glory to Him alone, and the fulfillment of each is essential to the healthy Christian life.
#1: Seek God, not sin.
For thus says the Lord to the house of Israel, "Seek Me that you may live." —Amos 5:4
God is the life-giver. We will find life in no other. But as sinful creatures, our hearts are naturally prone to wander from our Creator. Our souls were made to pursue God, know God, and walk with God—nothing else. It's only as we pursue Him that we live. In the book of Amos, God tries over and over again to get the attention of His people. He allows them to experience famine, drought, and pestilence and yet, as God says in Amos 4:11, "you have not returned to me." But Amos 5:4 reminds us of where life is found. God says, "Seek me that you may live." These words should get our attention. We will only find life in seeking Him.
#2: Fear God, not men.
The fear of the Lord leads to life, so that one may sleep satisfied, untouched by evil. —Proverbs 19:23 .
Our God is holy and is the Lord God Almighty. When I think of the power He holds, I can't help but fear Him and hold Him in reverential awe. Do you care more about what men think of you than God? Then learn to fear God, and you will be preoccupied in walking in His presence, not wondering what other people think of you. You will begin to live your life in light of eternity, and the temporal views of men won't matter anymore.
The fear of the Lord also keeps us from evil and sin. A.W. Tozer writes, "It is impossible to keep our moral practices sound and our inward attitudes right while our idea of God is erroneous or inadequate." When we lose the fear of God and don't respect Him and His commandments, we are going to live our lives without accountability to God and one another, which is the cause of a number of sins.
#3: Love God, not the world.
Do not love the world nor the things in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him. For all that is in the world, the lust of the flesh and the lust of the eyes and the boastful pride of life, is not from the Father, but is from the world. The world is passing away, and also its lusts; but the one who does the will of God lives forever. — John 2:15-17
What is the object of your affections? Power? Recognition? Hobbies? Not too long ago, I visited an unbelievable house, and as I walked around it, for just a moment my thought was, "I could have had a house like this." But I was reminded that a house is not what life is all about. The world is seeking to seduce us into a love affair, but we must love God and be preoccupied with pleasing Him alone.
When I first fell in love with Barbara, no one doubted that I loved her; I was preoccupied with pleasing her. We must also love His people and be concerned about their eternal destiny. We must look at them with compassion, like Jesus, and be moved with action to do something for them. Those who love God will do what He wants and be concerned about His mission and His will, and they will fulfill His calling.
#4: Believe God, not the deceiver.
You are of your father the devil, and you want to do the desires of your father. He was a murderer from the beginning, and does not stand in the truth because there is no truth in him. Whenever he speaks a lie, he speaks from his own nature, for he is a liar and the father of lies. —John 8:44
In 1938 a man in Long Island ordered a very expensive weather barometer. He unwrapped it and realized that the arrow that was supposed to reflect the weather he was experiencing was stuck at the bottom, pointing at "Hurricane." So he slammed it down a few times, and when it didn't respond, he wrote a hot letter to the manufacturer and mailed it off on the way to work. When he came home, he found that a hurricane had hit, and everything was gone.
As believers, sometimes we don't want to believe the truth. When life and Scripture collide, which one do you believe and trust? The deceiver wants us to believe the lie. Will you believe God? The Scriptures tell us that without faith it is impossible to please God, but our nature is to move toward unbelief. Never forget that your adversary is the father of lies. He wants to destroy you, so he works to make us doubt the promises and to accuse the brethren.
#5: Obey God, not your appetites.
Do you not know that those who run in a race all run, but only one receives the prize? Run in such a way that you may win. Everyone who competes in the games exercises self-control in all things. They then do it to receive a perishable wreath, but we an imperishable. Therefore I run in such a way, as not without aim; I box in such a way, as not beating the air; but I discipline my body and make it my slave, so that, after I have preached to others, I myself will not be disqualified.
—1 Corinthians 9:24-27
Our appetites are the passions that we have within our flesh, contrary to the spirit, craving and battling to be satisfied. If you give in even the slightest to these desires, the enemy can use that to launch an attack in your life. At the same time, the same trivial act in obedience to God may be used to launch a powerful life-changing ministry. Our passions must be subordinated to the cross.
Obedience to God demands two main things. It demands courage to say no to self, no to appetites, no to lusts of the flesh, no to what's easy, and yes to carrying the cross. It also demands faithfulness—the plodding endurance to God, to his call, and to that which He calls you to suffer. Only by yielding to the cross can you obey God, not your appetites.
#6: Serve God, not self.
Then I heard the voice of the Lord, saying, "Whom shall I send, and who will go for Us?" Then I said, "Here am I. Send me!" —Isaiah 6:8
The concept of becoming a "bond slave" in the Scriptures means that we are the slaves, and He is the master. That means that we must surrender completely, without reservation. Many would see this type of service as lowly, and it is humbling, but it should be seen as a privilege to serve such a loving Lord. In 1972, in the first year of our marriage, Barbara and I decided that before we would give anything to each other we would surrender our lives in writing to Jesus Christ, giving Him everything we ever dreamed of having. We gave it up and gave Him the contract and title to our lives. Looking back at that day, I see now we gave Him nothing, but I am amazed to see that He has given us everything in return.
#7: Worship God, not comfort.
Though the fig tree should not blossom and there be no fruit on the vines, though the yield of the olive should fail and the fields produce no food, though the flock should be cut off from the fold and there be no cattle in the stalls, yet I will exult in the Lord, I will rejoice in the God of my salvation. —Habakkuk 3:17-18
I don't know anyone who enjoys suffering, but I do know many who have benefited from the growth that occurs as a result. Are you celebrating God and worshiping Him in the midst of your pain or do you seek comfort by escaping it? When suffering comes, you must move through the pain to the God who allowed it to come to fruition. When you escape, you miss the comfort God gives in the midst of that pain.
Barbara and I have given thanks for short paychecks, for the deep waters of misunderstandings and unmet expectations, for a teenage boy with muscular dystrophy, for the loss of friendships due to the call of God—the list goes on and on. Pain has pressed us against our Savior and reminded us that we are not in control. Pain results in growth and greater fruitfulness for Him. We worship God through music, prayer, God's Word, and baptism. But we should also worship God in the midst of suffering and pain.
These seven non-negotiables are the basics for the solid Christian life, and if any of them are neglected, we will be the ones to pay, not God. Now that you know what the non-negotiables are, why don't you sit down in a quiet place and meditate on the areas where you are taking good care of your spiritual life and then ask the Lord to show you the areas where you need help. And then choose a close friend or accountability partner and share with him or her the areas where you need help and prayer. Soon, you will begin to experience a healthier life—mentally, emotionally, and spiritually.
Dennis Rainey is the president of FamilyLife Today
Dennis Rainey
If you've ever purchased a car, you've seen the owner's manual. It's the book that tells you about the "non-negotiables" for maintaining the car. These are things like changing the oil, filling the tank with gasoline, topping off the transmission fluid, and having tires with adequate tread. We spend a lot of time making sure these non-negotiables are done so that when we get in the car, it runs properly.
The same principle is true for the life of a believer. We must spend time on the non-negotiables so that our lives may glorify God. But what are the non-negotiables? They must be defined in order to maintain and fulfill them. In seeking the Lord, I have discovered what I believe to be seven non-negotiables for life. Each principle is centered on the Lord, bringing the glory to Him alone, and the fulfillment of each is essential to the healthy Christian life.
#1: Seek God, not sin.
For thus says the Lord to the house of Israel, "Seek Me that you may live." —Amos 5:4
God is the life-giver. We will find life in no other. But as sinful creatures, our hearts are naturally prone to wander from our Creator. Our souls were made to pursue God, know God, and walk with God—nothing else. It's only as we pursue Him that we live. In the book of Amos, God tries over and over again to get the attention of His people. He allows them to experience famine, drought, and pestilence and yet, as God says in Amos 4:11, "you have not returned to me." But Amos 5:4 reminds us of where life is found. God says, "Seek me that you may live." These words should get our attention. We will only find life in seeking Him.
#2: Fear God, not men.
The fear of the Lord leads to life, so that one may sleep satisfied, untouched by evil. —Proverbs 19:23
Our God is holy and is the Lord God Almighty. When I think of the power He holds, I can't help but fear Him and hold Him in reverential awe. Do you care more about what men think of you than God? Then learn to fear God, and you will be preoccupied in walking in His presence, not wondering what other people think of you. You will begin to live your life in light of eternity, and the temporal views of men won't matter anymore.
The fear of the Lord also keeps us from evil and sin. A.W. Tozer writes, "It is impossible to keep our moral practices sound and our inward attitudes right while our idea of God is erroneous or inadequate." When we lose the fear of God and don't respect Him and His commandments, we are going to live our lives without accountability to God and one another, which is the cause of a number of sins.
#3: Love God, not the world.
Do not love the world nor the things in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him. For all that is in the world, the lust of the flesh and the lust of the eyes and the boastful pride of life, is not from the Father, but is from the world. The world is passing away, and also its lusts; but the one who does the will of God lives forever. — John 2:15-17
What is the object of your affections? Power? Recognition? Hobbies? Not too long ago, I visited an unbelievable house, and as I walked around it, for just a moment my thought was, "I could have had a house like this." But I was reminded that a house is not what life is all about. The world is seeking to seduce us into a love affair, but we must love God and be preoccupied with pleasing Him alone.
When I first fell in love with Barbara, no one doubted that I loved her; I was preoccupied with pleasing her. We must also love His people and be concerned about their eternal destiny. We must look at them with compassion, like Jesus, and be moved with action to do something for them. Those who love God will do what He wants and be concerned about His mission and His will, and they will fulfill His calling.
#4: Believe God, not the deceiver.
You are of your father the devil, and you want to do the desires of your father. He was a murderer from the beginning, and does not stand in the truth because there is no truth in him. Whenever he speaks a lie, he speaks from his own nature, for he is a liar and the father of lies. —John 8:44
In 1938 a man in Long Island ordered a very expensive weather barometer. He unwrapped it and realized that the arrow that was supposed to reflect the weather he was experiencing was stuck at the bottom, pointing at "Hurricane." So he slammed it down a few times, and when it didn't respond, he wrote a hot letter to the manufacturer and mailed it off on the way to work. When he came home, he found that a hurricane had hit, and everything was gone.
As believers, sometimes we don't want to believe the truth. When life and Scripture collide, which one do you believe and trust? The deceiver wants us to believe the lie. Will you believe God? The Scriptures tell us that without faith it is impossible to please God, but our nature is to move toward unbelief. Never forget that your adversary is the father of lies. He wants to destroy you, so he works to make us doubt the promises and to accuse the brethren.
#5: Obey God, not your appetites.
Do you not know that those who run in a race all run, but only one receives the prize? Run in such a way that you may win. Everyone who competes in the games exercises self-control in all things. They then do it to receive a perishable wreath, but we an imperishable. Therefore I run in such a way, as not without aim; I box in such a way, as not beating the air; but I discipline my body and make it my slave, so that, after I have preached to others, I myself will not be disqualified.
—1 Corinthians 9:24-27
Our appetites are the passions that we have within our flesh, contrary to the spirit, craving and battling to be satisfied. If you give in even the slightest to these desires, the enemy can use that to launch an attack in your life. At the same time, the same trivial act in obedience to God may be used to launch a powerful life-changing ministry. Our passions must be subordinated to the cross.
Obedience to God demands two main things. It demands courage to say no to self, no to appetites, no to lusts of the flesh, no to what's easy, and yes to carrying the cross. It also demands faithfulness—the plodding endurance to God, to his call, and to that which He calls you to suffer. Only by yielding to the cross can you obey God, not your appetites.
#6: Serve God, not self.
Then I heard the voice of the Lord, saying, "Whom shall I send, and who will go for Us?" Then I said, "Here am I. Send me!" —Isaiah 6:8
The concept of becoming a "bond slave" in the Scriptures means that we are the slaves, and He is the master. That means that we must surrender completely, without reservation. Many would see this type of service as lowly, and it is humbling, but it should be seen as a privilege to serve such a loving Lord. In 1972, in the first year of our marriage, Barbara and I decided that before we would give anything to each other we would surrender our lives in writing to Jesus Christ, giving Him everything we ever dreamed of having. We gave it up and gave Him the contract and title to our lives. Looking back at that day, I see now we gave Him nothing, but I am amazed to see that He has given us everything in return.
#7: Worship God, not comfort.
Though the fig tree should not blossom and there be no fruit on the vines, though the yield of the olive should fail and the fields produce no food, though the flock should be cut off from the fold and there be no cattle in the stalls, yet I will exult in the Lord, I will rejoice in the God of my salvation. —Habakkuk 3:17-18
I don't know anyone who enjoys suffering, but I do know many who have benefited from the growth that occurs as a result. Are you celebrating God and worshiping Him in the midst of your pain or do you seek comfort by escaping it? When suffering comes, you must move through the pain to the God who allowed it to come to fruition. When you escape, you miss the comfort God gives in the midst of that pain.
Barbara and I have given thanks for short paychecks, for the deep waters of misunderstandings and unmet expectations, for a teenage boy with muscular dystrophy, for the loss of friendships due to the call of God—the list goes on and on. Pain has pressed us against our Savior and reminded us that we are not in control. Pain results in growth and greater fruitfulness for Him. We worship God through music, prayer, God's Word, and baptism. But we should also worship God in the midst of suffering and pain.
These seven non-negotiables are the basics for the solid Christian life, and if any of them are neglected, we will be the ones to pay, not God. Now that you know what the non-negotiables are, why don't you sit down in a quiet place and meditate on the areas where you are taking good care of your spiritual life and then ask the Lord to show you the areas where you need help. And then choose a close friend or accountability partner and share with him or her the areas where you need help and prayer. Soon, you will begin to experience a healthier life—mentally, emotionally, and spiritually.
Dennis Rainey is the president of FamilyLife Today
October 18, 2011
No Regret
Do you have any regrets?
Regret can be a horrible, haunting thing. Looking back on personal mistakes, failures, bad decisions, wasted opportunities, neglected friendships or wrecked relationships is unpleasant and painful. It’s so hurtful that most folks do all they can to avoid this kind of reflection. We usually do everything possible to silence any voice that reminds us of what could or should have been.
While I’m no fan of wallowing in guilt about the past, “crying over spilled milk,” or burying oneself in the emotional by-products of unhealthy introspection, I do think regrets can be redeemed for good:
Regrets can help us identify actions we need to take today. They remind us of certain steps of repentance, restoration or restitution we need to take now that will bring healing to us or others.
Regrets can teach us valuable lessons. From them we learn how to make better decisions and improve the quality of our lives and relationships. The price we have paid in pain from our failures can be turned into an investment in our education. Hopefully our mistakes make us wiser.
The only thing sadder than having regrets is not learning from the ones we do have. When we ignore the lessons yesterday’s bad choices can teach us, we pile on more pain today, and accumulate a heap of heavy regrets for our tomorrows.
The book of Proverbs talks about the sad impact of regrets:
You don’t want to end your life full of regrets, nothing by sin and bones, saying, “Oh, why didn’t I do what they told me? Why did I reject a disciplined life? Why didn’t I listen to my mentors, or take my teachers seriously?” — Proverbs 5:11-14 (Msg)
Do you have any regrets?
Honestly own up to your mistakes and failures. Confess them to God and accept His forgiveness. Make a conscious decision to right the wrongs you can make right. Think carefully about the way you live your life today. Learn everything you can about the right way to live, and apply what you learn. Choose the path of wisdom by obeying God and His Word.
When we grow from our past regrets we greatly reduce our future regrets!
Pastor Dale
Do you have any regrets?
Regret can be a horrible, haunting thing. Looking back on personal mistakes, failures, bad decisions, wasted opportunities, neglected friendships or wrecked relationships is unpleasant and painful. It’s so hurtful that most folks do all they can to avoid this kind of reflection. We usually do everything possible to silence any voice that reminds us of what could or should have been.
While I’m no fan of wallowing in guilt about the past, “crying over spilled milk,” or burying oneself in the emotional by-products of unhealthy introspection, I do think regrets can be redeemed for good:
Regrets can help us identify actions we need to take today. They remind us of certain steps of repentance, restoration or restitution we need to take now that will bring healing to us or others.
Regrets can teach us valuable lessons. From them we learn how to make better decisions and improve the quality of our lives and relationships. The price we have paid in pain from our failures can be turned into an investment in our education. Hopefully our mistakes make us wiser.
The only thing sadder than having regrets is not learning from the ones we do have. When we ignore the lessons yesterday’s bad choices can teach us, we pile on more pain today, and accumulate a heap of heavy regrets for our tomorrows.
The book of Proverbs talks about the sad impact of regrets:
You don’t want to end your life full of regrets, nothing by sin and bones, saying, “Oh, why didn’t I do what they told me? Why did I reject a disciplined life? Why didn’t I listen to my mentors, or take my teachers seriously?” — Proverbs 5:11-14 (Msg)
Do you have any regrets?
Honestly own up to your mistakes and failures. Confess them to God and accept His forgiveness. Make a conscious decision to right the wrongs you can make right. Think carefully about the way you live your life today. Learn everything you can about the right way to live, and apply what you learn. Choose the path of wisdom by obeying God and His Word.
When we grow from our past regrets we greatly reduce our future regrets!
Pastor Dale
Monday, October 17, 2011
October 17, 2011
Lessons from the Campaign Trail
We knew it would be a great learning experience, but I didn't know I'd be learning about my marriage.
Caryn Rivadeneira | posted 10/12/2011
When the opportunity arose last year for my husband to throw his name into the race for state representative, we both felt it was a step God wanted him to take. Throughout the campaign, we repeated to ourselves and anyone who asked that we felt Raf was called to run—not necessarily to win. But we believed God would use the race itself for God's glory—and to teach us or show us both something we needed to learn.
I never expected it would be about our marriage.
Honestly, before the campaign started, Raf and I were smack dab in the middle of a rough season in our marriage. The demands of three young kids, two careers, and more bills than we could afford to pay mounted and often left us "short" (to put it nicely) with one another. We weren't necessarily each other's biggest fans. We loved each other and were committed, but our marriage was sort of floundering.
So when we first started the discussions about running for office, I amazed myself (and Raf!) with my encouragement. I wanted him to do this. And not—as he teased me—because if he won, he'd spend half his year three hours away. I wanted him to do it because I too felt his calling—and was eager to support him. I was ready for our journey. Ready to learn.
For me, those lessons—three big ones—came pretty quickly.
1. I Am Really, Really Selfish
While I like to fancy that I am a great encourager (and according to spiritual gifts assessments, I really do have the gift of encouragement), it turns out I'm better at the pep talks and pats on the back as long as they're about something that doesn't actually interfere with my life, my plans, or my goals. Or my sleep.
In the early days of the campaign, while I was busy rah-rah-sis-boom-bah-ing my husband's efforts, it was easy. It was his thing. He was out knocking on doors. He made the phone calls. He recruited his team. Not me. But then he came recruiting me. He sent me vast lists of policy ideas and campaign issues and asked me to "shape" them into something readable. For the website. For newspaper articles. For brochures and mailings.
Then he used me as a sounding board and a strategist—which I loved—but since I have but a few free moments of the day to do the things I love and feel called to do, I get possessive of those moments. As the weeks rolled on—with more and more sounding and strategizing and shaping—I got plain old crabby. Resentful. Often kinda mean.
So much so that just after Christmas, Raf came to me and said, "I know this is hard on you, but do you think that since this campaign is finite and only has five weeks left, you could just be cheerful and supportive? I'm only asking you for a month."
Hearing him say this broke my heart—and convicted me of my miserable selfishness. I had encouraged him only as long as it didn't affect me. Not exactly a picture of a sacred commitment and godly marriage. I needed to make a big change in my attitude and lose the selfishness. It certainly helped when I encountered these next two lessons.
2. I Really, Really Love my Husband
We all know that politics are ugly. But honestly, you have no idea until you are smack dab in the middle of it. Though ugly isn't even the right word: evil comes to mind. I've pretty much figured out that politics attracts people I call "power junkies," and they will do anything—ANYTHING—to get a power fix. And so it was with one of my husband's opponents. This opponent's entire campaign ran on lie and smear and attempts to destroy the reputation of anyone running against him—pretty much par for the course in American politics, right?
Now as a writer, I'm used to people "attacking" me on blogs and sending me angry emails. Sadly, it happens to any of us brave enough to step out and voice an opinion. When it's directed at me, I kind of shrug it off and move on, but when the attacks were coming at my husband? Whoo, boy. Apparently hell hath no fury like the wife of a smeared candidate.
While my husband shrugged it off—rightly saying, "they don't attack people they're not afraid of"—I moved into "mama bear" mode, ready to pounce and claw anyone who tried to hurt my husband.
While I didn't actually hurt anyone (I'm human, after all, not a bear), this reaction showed me how much I really, really love my husband. Until this point in my life, I only went mama-bear protective for my kids and before that, for my brother or even parents. I thought it was the sort of crazy-protective love reserved for blood-relations, if you will.
But during this time I realized that my love for Raf had gone deeper than any romantic or even "friend" love. My love for him seeped into my bones and into the very essence of who I was. My love—and the reaction it caused—had become primal, instinctual. I couldn't help but love him. That covenant thing apparently took.
Up to this point, I had thought that when we weren't exactly feeling the love for one another, I had to choose to love him. But as it turned out, my love was there—sunk deep, sealed in covenant—and ready to respond in times of need.
3. Marriage Is Really, Really Important
Since I didn't fully understand what a sacrament was until a couple of years after I got married, I never fully understood why marriage would be one. Seriously. But I have to be honest, the early years of my marriage were so peachy that I had a hard time picturing how marriage could be a tangible form of invisible grace—unless it just meant that God was nice and fun and laughed a lot. Like in my marriage.
But when things got hard—about eight years in—I began to understand. When things got really hard in the midst of the campaign, I got it. Totally. Marriage is sacrament and marriage is really, really important.
During the rigors of the campaign, we began to see God's hand everywhere—God's grace abounded—and it bubbled up around our marriage and in our relationship. Ah, sacrament.
Not that we were so perfect to one another during this season (see #1), but we saw God show up and shower us with patience and endurance and strength. And forgiveness. Lots of forgiveness. Tons of that grace. For example, my husband's forgiveness of the opponent who smeared his name—and the freedom he felt from that—spoke more to me than a zillion sermons on the topic. When I feel bitterness bubbling in my soul and starting to sizzle my insides, I think of Raf and his gracious spirit. It's a picture of the Christian life. A picture I needed to see and one that God used my marriage to show me.
But the grace extended beyond this. During this season I learned that our marriage mattered for reasons beyond raising kids or economics or any other reason people get—and stay—married. And I learned that the sum of our marriage is more than him plus me. God brought us together to support one another in our callings, to encourage each other in our kingdom work. While what we are called to do as individuals may differ, our shared calling is to follow God and to cheer each other on while we do that. We are better together. Marriage is really, really important.
Caryn Rivadeneira is the author of two books—Mama's Got a Fake I.D. (WaterBrook Press, 2009) and Grumble Hallelujah (Tyndale House, 2011)—and a regular contributor to Kyria, Gifted for Leadership, and the Her.Meneutics blog. She lives with her husband and their three wonderful kids in the western suburbs of Chicago. Visit Caryn at www.carynrivadeneira.com.
We knew it would be a great learning experience, but I didn't know I'd be learning about my marriage.
Caryn Rivadeneira | posted 10/12/2011
When the opportunity arose last year for my husband to throw his name into the race for state representative, we both felt it was a step God wanted him to take. Throughout the campaign, we repeated to ourselves and anyone who asked that we felt Raf was called to run—not necessarily to win. But we believed God would use the race itself for God's glory—and to teach us or show us both something we needed to learn.
I never expected it would be about our marriage.
Honestly, before the campaign started, Raf and I were smack dab in the middle of a rough season in our marriage. The demands of three young kids, two careers, and more bills than we could afford to pay mounted and often left us "short" (to put it nicely) with one another. We weren't necessarily each other's biggest fans. We loved each other and were committed, but our marriage was sort of floundering.
So when we first started the discussions about running for office, I amazed myself (and Raf!) with my encouragement. I wanted him to do this. And not—as he teased me—because if he won, he'd spend half his year three hours away. I wanted him to do it because I too felt his calling—and was eager to support him. I was ready for our journey. Ready to learn.
For me, those lessons—three big ones—came pretty quickly.
1. I Am Really, Really Selfish
While I like to fancy that I am a great encourager (and according to spiritual gifts assessments, I really do have the gift of encouragement), it turns out I'm better at the pep talks and pats on the back as long as they're about something that doesn't actually interfere with my life, my plans, or my goals. Or my sleep.
In the early days of the campaign, while I was busy rah-rah-sis-boom-bah-ing my husband's efforts, it was easy. It was his thing. He was out knocking on doors. He made the phone calls. He recruited his team. Not me. But then he came recruiting me. He sent me vast lists of policy ideas and campaign issues and asked me to "shape" them into something readable. For the website. For newspaper articles. For brochures and mailings.
Then he used me as a sounding board and a strategist—which I loved—but since I have but a few free moments of the day to do the things I love and feel called to do, I get possessive of those moments. As the weeks rolled on—with more and more sounding and strategizing and shaping—I got plain old crabby. Resentful. Often kinda mean.
So much so that just after Christmas, Raf came to me and said, "I know this is hard on you, but do you think that since this campaign is finite and only has five weeks left, you could just be cheerful and supportive? I'm only asking you for a month."
Hearing him say this broke my heart—and convicted me of my miserable selfishness. I had encouraged him only as long as it didn't affect me. Not exactly a picture of a sacred commitment and godly marriage. I needed to make a big change in my attitude and lose the selfishness. It certainly helped when I encountered these next two lessons.
2. I Really, Really Love my Husband
We all know that politics are ugly. But honestly, you have no idea until you are smack dab in the middle of it. Though ugly isn't even the right word: evil comes to mind. I've pretty much figured out that politics attracts people I call "power junkies," and they will do anything—ANYTHING—to get a power fix. And so it was with one of my husband's opponents. This opponent's entire campaign ran on lie and smear and attempts to destroy the reputation of anyone running against him—pretty much par for the course in American politics, right?
Now as a writer, I'm used to people "attacking" me on blogs and sending me angry emails. Sadly, it happens to any of us brave enough to step out and voice an opinion. When it's directed at me, I kind of shrug it off and move on, but when the attacks were coming at my husband? Whoo, boy. Apparently hell hath no fury like the wife of a smeared candidate.
While my husband shrugged it off—rightly saying, "they don't attack people they're not afraid of"—I moved into "mama bear" mode, ready to pounce and claw anyone who tried to hurt my husband.
While I didn't actually hurt anyone (I'm human, after all, not a bear), this reaction showed me how much I really, really love my husband. Until this point in my life, I only went mama-bear protective for my kids and before that, for my brother or even parents. I thought it was the sort of crazy-protective love reserved for blood-relations, if you will.
But during this time I realized that my love for Raf had gone deeper than any romantic or even "friend" love. My love for him seeped into my bones and into the very essence of who I was. My love—and the reaction it caused—had become primal, instinctual. I couldn't help but love him. That covenant thing apparently took.
Up to this point, I had thought that when we weren't exactly feeling the love for one another, I had to choose to love him. But as it turned out, my love was there—sunk deep, sealed in covenant—and ready to respond in times of need.
3. Marriage Is Really, Really Important
Since I didn't fully understand what a sacrament was until a couple of years after I got married, I never fully understood why marriage would be one. Seriously. But I have to be honest, the early years of my marriage were so peachy that I had a hard time picturing how marriage could be a tangible form of invisible grace—unless it just meant that God was nice and fun and laughed a lot. Like in my marriage.
But when things got hard—about eight years in—I began to understand. When things got really hard in the midst of the campaign, I got it. Totally. Marriage is sacrament and marriage is really, really important.
During the rigors of the campaign, we began to see God's hand everywhere—God's grace abounded—and it bubbled up around our marriage and in our relationship. Ah, sacrament.
Not that we were so perfect to one another during this season (see #1), but we saw God show up and shower us with patience and endurance and strength. And forgiveness. Lots of forgiveness. Tons of that grace. For example, my husband's forgiveness of the opponent who smeared his name—and the freedom he felt from that—spoke more to me than a zillion sermons on the topic. When I feel bitterness bubbling in my soul and starting to sizzle my insides, I think of Raf and his gracious spirit. It's a picture of the Christian life. A picture I needed to see and one that God used my marriage to show me.
But the grace extended beyond this. During this season I learned that our marriage mattered for reasons beyond raising kids or economics or any other reason people get—and stay—married. And I learned that the sum of our marriage is more than him plus me. God brought us together to support one another in our callings, to encourage each other in our kingdom work. While what we are called to do as individuals may differ, our shared calling is to follow God and to cheer each other on while we do that. We are better together. Marriage is really, really important.
Caryn Rivadeneira is the author of two books—Mama's Got a Fake I.D. (WaterBrook Press, 2009) and Grumble Hallelujah (Tyndale House, 2011)—and a regular contributor to Kyria, Gifted for Leadership, and the Her.Meneutics blog. She lives with her husband and their three wonderful kids in the western suburbs of Chicago. Visit Caryn at www.carynrivadeneira.com.
Friday, October 14, 2011
October 14, 2011
Do You Love Your Wife Out of Obligation?
It takes courage for husbands to fulfill God’s calling to love their wives for a noble purpose.
Brian Goins
Like most fortysomething, red-blooded, Christian husbands, Ron figured out that having a child or two dramatically changes a marriage. His wife didn’t regain her youthful figure or match his desire for sexual intimacy. Routines developed. So Ron recalibrated his expectations in order to enjoy a predictable, comfortable, suburban life.
Then Ron’s wife developed an unidentified illness that caused great fatigue, loss of strength, and a more severely reduced libido. Suddenly, Ron’s predictable—albeit lowered—expectations of life took a further turn south.
But Ron was determined to love his wife. After all, that’s what Christian husbands do. Just as Christ had died for the church, Ron knew that he ought to die to himself. So he tried.
After a year of loving out of obligation, Ron’s passion for God and for his marriage began to diminish. He felt more energized away from home. His relationship with his wife teetered between the slim hope of change and the bitterness of busted expectations.
What gives Ron the motivation to love his bride when there’s virtually no hope of his “needs” being met in the foreseeable future? He listens to the pastor at the men’s event cry out, “Man up! Stop your whining! Love like Christ!” But he feels more guilt than hope. She may never be the companion she once was. She may never fire up her passion in the bedroom again. She may never match his zest for life.
So Ron digs deep. He hunts for help. Maybe he downloads a book on marriage. Perhaps he decides to go to a conference. If he’s lucky, he won’t run into a speaker like me.
A swift kick right where it hurts
Guilt drives many guys to marriage counseling or conferences. I see countless Rons in the audience whenever I speak at a marriage conference. From the podium, I see wives sitting with elbows cocked, ready to fire a volley into their husband’s gut if he needs to write down a tip. Some of the men have come willingly; others with a gun to their backs. Some have come looking for a spark to rekindle the flame or for shortcuts to restore intimacy. Others have come knowing it’s a last resort.
Almost all leave with a wheelbarrow full of “to-dos”—listen more, communicate more, initiate date nights, write surprise e-mails, become bilingual in their wife’s love language, do more, be more, feel more, pray more, cuddle more. Most men sit in these sessions slumped under the burden of past guilt and future obligation.
As a conference speaker and counselor, I’m a firm believer in getting help for marriages in trouble. But I changed my focus after a guy like Ron approached me at a conference following a split session in which I talked with the husbands while Jen talked with the wives. He smiled as he shook my hand and gave me a cartoon. On one panel, it showed the women coming out of their session smiling, laughing, and loving the opportunity for girl talk. The second panel showed the men walking out of their session in pain, bent over, covering their groin area.
I realized that, for the past hour, I had heaped on even more guilt. Though I had used Paul’s playbook from Ephesians 5, with every point clearly drawn from Scripture, the effect on my audience had been like a knee to the groin. I realized I was telling men to sacrifice themselves for their wives like Jesus died for the church, without telling them why Jesus sacrificed Himself.
As husbands, we need to see our role in marriage as a high calling. We need something to carry us past our obligation, past our responsibility, to a vision of glory that takes our eyes off of our fears and selfish desires. Just as soldiers don’t dive on grenades because they ought to, and athletes don’t come off the bench in excruciating pain because it’s the right thing to do, husbands can’t be expected to sacrifice themselves out of a sense of duty. We need a higher purpose.
Higher purpose: To beautify the bride
I remember talking with an older couple about the secret to maintaining intimacy after 40 years of marriage and four kids. The wife, Sally, who was in her mid-60s at the time, piped up immediately: “Don still thinks I’m beautiful, even though I know what I look like in the mirror.” Her husband had learned the secret of reflecting his wife’s beauty back to her so she could see it—and, more importantly, so she could feel it.
Men love shiny gadgets. We crave the latest and greatest. So when the shine wears off a man’s bride, it’s no wonder he silently pines for an upgrade. If he doesn’t actively pursue the latest model, he secretly hopes his wife will change. He may even offer some not-so-subtle hints:
“Did you work out today?”
“Are you really going to eat that entire hot fudge sundae?”
“Remember when you wore a bikini?”
A man loves a beautiful bride. Jesus loves to beautify His bride. Catch the difference? Most husbands simply love what is—what they can see. Jesus loves what could be, and He draws forth his bride’s inner beauty.
Whenever you see the word sanctify in Scripture, it means to “set apart” or “make holy.” In theological terms, when God “sanctifies” believers, He makes us blameless and holy. It’s a lifelong transformation based on God’s vow to His people, not based on His people’s performance (see Exodus 31:13; Philippians 1:6). Jesus pledges a transforming love that sets His bride apart and makes her beautiful.
When a man loves based on performance, he will expect his wife to stay or become beautiful. When a man loves like Jesus, he will beautify his wife as time passes, regardless of her physical body’s natural decline.
In Scripture, God’s bride blossoms after the wedding day and becomes more beautiful and splendid over time, not because she “worked out” or “aged gracefully,” but because God loved her into radiance. If a man views the wedding day as the height of his bride’s beauty, then he will never love like Jesus. He’ll constantly be comparing what was rather than anticipating his role in what it could be. For Jesus, the wedding day was simply the start of a lifelong extreme makeover designed to advance His bride to royalty.
Adapted from Playing Hurt by Brian Goins, ©2011. Published by Kregel Publications.
It takes courage for husbands to fulfill God’s calling to love their wives for a noble purpose.
Brian Goins
Like most fortysomething, red-blooded, Christian husbands, Ron figured out that having a child or two dramatically changes a marriage. His wife didn’t regain her youthful figure or match his desire for sexual intimacy. Routines developed. So Ron recalibrated his expectations in order to enjoy a predictable, comfortable, suburban life.
Then Ron’s wife developed an unidentified illness that caused great fatigue, loss of strength, and a more severely reduced libido. Suddenly, Ron’s predictable—albeit lowered—expectations of life took a further turn south.
But Ron was determined to love his wife. After all, that’s what Christian husbands do. Just as Christ had died for the church, Ron knew that he ought to die to himself. So he tried.
After a year of loving out of obligation, Ron’s passion for God and for his marriage began to diminish. He felt more energized away from home. His relationship with his wife teetered between the slim hope of change and the bitterness of busted expectations.
What gives Ron the motivation to love his bride when there’s virtually no hope of his “needs” being met in the foreseeable future? He listens to the pastor at the men’s event cry out, “Man up! Stop your whining! Love like Christ!” But he feels more guilt than hope. She may never be the companion she once was. She may never fire up her passion in the bedroom again. She may never match his zest for life.
So Ron digs deep. He hunts for help. Maybe he downloads a book on marriage. Perhaps he decides to go to a conference. If he’s lucky, he won’t run into a speaker like me.
A swift kick right where it hurts
Guilt drives many guys to marriage counseling or conferences. I see countless Rons in the audience whenever I speak at a marriage conference. From the podium, I see wives sitting with elbows cocked, ready to fire a volley into their husband’s gut if he needs to write down a tip. Some of the men have come willingly; others with a gun to their backs. Some have come looking for a spark to rekindle the flame or for shortcuts to restore intimacy. Others have come knowing it’s a last resort.
Almost all leave with a wheelbarrow full of “to-dos”—listen more, communicate more, initiate date nights, write surprise e-mails, become bilingual in their wife’s love language, do more, be more, feel more, pray more, cuddle more. Most men sit in these sessions slumped under the burden of past guilt and future obligation.
As a conference speaker and counselor, I’m a firm believer in getting help for marriages in trouble. But I changed my focus after a guy like Ron approached me at a conference following a split session in which I talked with the husbands while Jen talked with the wives. He smiled as he shook my hand and gave me a cartoon. On one panel, it showed the women coming out of their session smiling, laughing, and loving the opportunity for girl talk. The second panel showed the men walking out of their session in pain, bent over, covering their groin area.
I realized that, for the past hour, I had heaped on even more guilt. Though I had used Paul’s playbook from Ephesians 5, with every point clearly drawn from Scripture, the effect on my audience had been like a knee to the groin. I realized I was telling men to sacrifice themselves for their wives like Jesus died for the church, without telling them why Jesus sacrificed Himself.
As husbands, we need to see our role in marriage as a high calling. We need something to carry us past our obligation, past our responsibility, to a vision of glory that takes our eyes off of our fears and selfish desires. Just as soldiers don’t dive on grenades because they ought to, and athletes don’t come off the bench in excruciating pain because it’s the right thing to do, husbands can’t be expected to sacrifice themselves out of a sense of duty. We need a higher purpose.
Higher purpose: To beautify the bride
I remember talking with an older couple about the secret to maintaining intimacy after 40 years of marriage and four kids. The wife, Sally, who was in her mid-60s at the time, piped up immediately: “Don still thinks I’m beautiful, even though I know what I look like in the mirror.” Her husband had learned the secret of reflecting his wife’s beauty back to her so she could see it—and, more importantly, so she could feel it.
Men love shiny gadgets. We crave the latest and greatest. So when the shine wears off a man’s bride, it’s no wonder he silently pines for an upgrade. If he doesn’t actively pursue the latest model, he secretly hopes his wife will change. He may even offer some not-so-subtle hints:
“Did you work out today?”
“Are you really going to eat that entire hot fudge sundae?”
“Remember when you wore a bikini?”
A man loves a beautiful bride. Jesus loves to beautify His bride. Catch the difference? Most husbands simply love what is—what they can see. Jesus loves what could be, and He draws forth his bride’s inner beauty.
Whenever you see the word sanctify in Scripture, it means to “set apart” or “make holy.” In theological terms, when God “sanctifies” believers, He makes us blameless and holy. It’s a lifelong transformation based on God’s vow to His people, not based on His people’s performance (see Exodus 31:13; Philippians 1:6). Jesus pledges a transforming love that sets His bride apart and makes her beautiful.
When a man loves based on performance, he will expect his wife to stay or become beautiful. When a man loves like Jesus, he will beautify his wife as time passes, regardless of her physical body’s natural decline.
In Scripture, God’s bride blossoms after the wedding day and becomes more beautiful and splendid over time, not because she “worked out” or “aged gracefully,” but because God loved her into radiance. If a man views the wedding day as the height of his bride’s beauty, then he will never love like Jesus. He’ll constantly be comparing what was rather than anticipating his role in what it could be. For Jesus, the wedding day was simply the start of a lifelong extreme makeover designed to advance His bride to royalty.
Adapted from Playing Hurt by Brian Goins, ©2011. Published by Kregel Publications.
October 13, 2011
Coming Home!
It’s always exciting to see people reconnect with family and friends after a time away. Homecomings are great experiences for people who care about each other. Reunions with those we love are refreshing.
The Bible tells a story about the joyous homecoming of a young man. It’s found in Luke 15.
Jesus talked about a young man who believed that life with his family was too restrictive and limiting for his fun-loving, free spirit. Filled with hubris and a strong will, he went to his dad and demanded his share of the family estate. He wanted it all, and he wanted it immediately. His plan was to strike out on his own, make a name for himself, and basically enjoy the life he felt his home had denied him.
The dad, with certain sadness but great wisdom, agreed to his son’s request. The father instinctively knew that this young man needed to face the realities of life for himself. The “University of Hard Knocks” was the only school that could give him the kind of education he needed.
This young man, money in hand and excitement in his soul, headed away from his father’s house. He felt liberated. He could do what he wanted to do and be who he wanted to be without dad’s influence or pressure from anyone’s expectations. Dreams soared high in his heart and mind, until he came face to face with something he didn’t anticipate. He had to face himself. He had to face the sad fact that he didn’t have the personal moral compass and depth of character required for true success. He was missing some important ingredients on the inside.
The deficits in this young man’s character soon became evident. His life choices led to outward circumstances that revealed the inward poverty of his spirit and soul. This brought him to some painful, honest self-reflection, and to a moment of important self-awareness when, according to Jesus’ words, this prodigal son, “came to his senses.” What a wonderful moment this was!
This internal awakening led him to an important decision. He decided to lay down what was left of his pride and head home. His experiences had broken him, in a good way. He no longer had unrealistic expectations about what life was “supposed to be like.” All he wanted to do now was to go back home and serve. He truly expected nothing. For the first time in his life he realized the significant value of what he had forfeited by his stubbornness and rebellion. So he set his course toward home.
The rest of the story is incredibly beautiful and touching. As this wayward son neared home, his dad ran out and met him with open arms of love and grace. He gave him gifts and prepared a big party for him. There were no lectures, no “I told you so’s,” no condemnation, only joy! The son who had wandered, drifted and rejected home was back again. That’s all that mattered now.
There are many lessons in this story for us. One clear message is this: God loves homecomings! Just as this father rejoiced over his son’s return, God, our Heavenly Father, rejoices when one of His children “come to their senses” and come home to Him!
Have you wandered away from God and from your spiritual home? Make a decision to return to Him. He’s lovingly waiting for you. He’ll receive you with forgiveness and grace. Don’t stay away another day. Make this your day to come back to Him. He’s only a prayer away!
Do you know someone who has wandered from God and their spiritual home? Let God use you as His voice — as His representative. Lovingly encourage them to come home. Help them find their way back to the Father!
Pastor Dale
It’s always exciting to see people reconnect with family and friends after a time away. Homecomings are great experiences for people who care about each other. Reunions with those we love are refreshing.
The Bible tells a story about the joyous homecoming of a young man. It’s found in Luke 15.
Jesus talked about a young man who believed that life with his family was too restrictive and limiting for his fun-loving, free spirit. Filled with hubris and a strong will, he went to his dad and demanded his share of the family estate. He wanted it all, and he wanted it immediately. His plan was to strike out on his own, make a name for himself, and basically enjoy the life he felt his home had denied him.
The dad, with certain sadness but great wisdom, agreed to his son’s request. The father instinctively knew that this young man needed to face the realities of life for himself. The “University of Hard Knocks” was the only school that could give him the kind of education he needed.
This young man, money in hand and excitement in his soul, headed away from his father’s house. He felt liberated. He could do what he wanted to do and be who he wanted to be without dad’s influence or pressure from anyone’s expectations. Dreams soared high in his heart and mind, until he came face to face with something he didn’t anticipate. He had to face himself. He had to face the sad fact that he didn’t have the personal moral compass and depth of character required for true success. He was missing some important ingredients on the inside.
The deficits in this young man’s character soon became evident. His life choices led to outward circumstances that revealed the inward poverty of his spirit and soul. This brought him to some painful, honest self-reflection, and to a moment of important self-awareness when, according to Jesus’ words, this prodigal son, “came to his senses.” What a wonderful moment this was!
This internal awakening led him to an important decision. He decided to lay down what was left of his pride and head home. His experiences had broken him, in a good way. He no longer had unrealistic expectations about what life was “supposed to be like.” All he wanted to do now was to go back home and serve. He truly expected nothing. For the first time in his life he realized the significant value of what he had forfeited by his stubbornness and rebellion. So he set his course toward home.
The rest of the story is incredibly beautiful and touching. As this wayward son neared home, his dad ran out and met him with open arms of love and grace. He gave him gifts and prepared a big party for him. There were no lectures, no “I told you so’s,” no condemnation, only joy! The son who had wandered, drifted and rejected home was back again. That’s all that mattered now.
There are many lessons in this story for us. One clear message is this: God loves homecomings! Just as this father rejoiced over his son’s return, God, our Heavenly Father, rejoices when one of His children “come to their senses” and come home to Him!
Have you wandered away from God and from your spiritual home? Make a decision to return to Him. He’s lovingly waiting for you. He’ll receive you with forgiveness and grace. Don’t stay away another day. Make this your day to come back to Him. He’s only a prayer away!
Do you know someone who has wandered from God and their spiritual home? Let God use you as His voice — as His representative. Lovingly encourage them to come home. Help them find their way back to the Father!
Pastor Dale
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
October 12, 2011
Disconnect
“Time flies!” Life is a fast-paced event. The older I get the more it seems that years pass like months, months like days, days like hours, hours like minutes, and minutes like seconds.
What makes it worse is the speed at which we live life. With the convenience, and often the curse of mobile technology, we’re always on. Email, text messages, phone calls (yes, some people actually use their phones for phone calls!), follow us everywhere. Turning off and tuning out our devices seems like a cardinal sin. We’re addicted! If you don’t believe it, just do a little people-watching. Folks are technologically tethered. We call it “being connected.” But strangely, and ironically, the “connected” way of life often disconnects us from the people around us, and even from ourselves. All of this “noise” frequently drowns out the still, small voice of God in our hearts.
The demands, busyness and “connectedness” of life take a toll on us; physically, mentally, emotionally and most significantly, spiritually. Our bodies and minds out-pace our spirits. To be healthy and strong, we must purposely slow down, embrace spiritual pauses, and give ourselves time to reflect and refuel; spirit, soul and body.
God reminds us of this need to slow down, to quiet down –– to take time and remember who He is and what life in Him is all about:
“Be still and know that I am God …” –– Psalm 46:10 (NIV)
The Hebrew term for “be still” means “to get alone; to withdraw; to relax; to cease and desist from striving; to let go.” You get the point. God is saying, “Withdraw from your busyness and give Me some time and space to work in your spirit. Relax in My presence and know who I am. Disconnect from all distractions and reconnect with Me!”
Plan wise disconnections in your life, and then make the right connections for greater health and strength!
Pastor Dale
“Time flies!” Life is a fast-paced event. The older I get the more it seems that years pass like months, months like days, days like hours, hours like minutes, and minutes like seconds.
What makes it worse is the speed at which we live life. With the convenience, and often the curse of mobile technology, we’re always on. Email, text messages, phone calls (yes, some people actually use their phones for phone calls!), follow us everywhere. Turning off and tuning out our devices seems like a cardinal sin. We’re addicted! If you don’t believe it, just do a little people-watching. Folks are technologically tethered. We call it “being connected.” But strangely, and ironically, the “connected” way of life often disconnects us from the people around us, and even from ourselves. All of this “noise” frequently drowns out the still, small voice of God in our hearts.
The demands, busyness and “connectedness” of life take a toll on us; physically, mentally, emotionally and most significantly, spiritually. Our bodies and minds out-pace our spirits. To be healthy and strong, we must purposely slow down, embrace spiritual pauses, and give ourselves time to reflect and refuel; spirit, soul and body.
God reminds us of this need to slow down, to quiet down –– to take time and remember who He is and what life in Him is all about:
“Be still and know that I am God …” –– Psalm 46:10 (NIV)
The Hebrew term for “be still” means “to get alone; to withdraw; to relax; to cease and desist from striving; to let go.” You get the point. God is saying, “Withdraw from your busyness and give Me some time and space to work in your spirit. Relax in My presence and know who I am. Disconnect from all distractions and reconnect with Me!”
Plan wise disconnections in your life, and then make the right connections for greater health and strength!
Pastor Dale
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
October 11, 2011
Your Husband’s Two Biggest Fears
You can do something about your husband’s twin fears. In fact, your husband will never get over them without you.
Priscilla Shirer
Throughout the last several years, I’ve enjoyed the distinct honor of sharing a speaker’s stage with two beloved authors and Bible teachers—Kay Arthur and Beth Moore. And during one of our recent panel discussions before thousands of women, Miss Kay summarized a huge dose of marriage reality into so tight a capsule that any of us could swallow it and keep it down.
She said that men possess two great fears:
the fear of being found inadequate
the fear of being controlled by a woman … which lead them to the following attitudes and aspirations: Your man wants to be your hero. He wants to feel like he is worthwhile to you and needed by you. He desires more than anything to see a look of love and admiration in your eyes. He wants to know that you celebrate him, depend on him, feel privileged to be married to him, and expect great things from him.
Let’s see what these twin fears in our guys’ lives have to do with us and what will happen if we try to alleviate them.
His fear of inadequacy
Your husband desires to know more than anything that you trust him, that you believe he has the wisdom and talent to succeed. He is fulfilled when he senses that, despite his inadequacies, you see the possibilities and potential God has given him as your provider and protector. He likes knowing you’re praying for him, rooting for him, assuring him that he still has what it takes to be the man of your dreams. When he feels genuinely affirmed by you, it makes him want to live up to your trust in most cases. Then even when he falls short, it will be apparent that his desire was to meet your expectations. You’ll see in his eyes that he was trying to please you.
This alone should be some cause for your continued trust and appreciation, as opposed to blanket disapproval (which we are often notorious for offering). When he starts to sense that all you ever think he can do is to be sloppy, forgetful, unimaginative, irresponsible, weak, indecisive, and clueless, he will become less inclined and motivated over time to prove you wrong. He knows you’ll only find something to be critical of anyway.
I know your man’s not perfect. Not even close, you say? He knows it too. He’s not delusional. He knows he’s flawed, even if he’s not quick to admit it out loud. But just like you and me, he is not to be defined by his imperfections. He has been divinely wired to be a leader, father, and provider for your family. And the last thing he needs or wants is a wife who doesn’t believe it, who’s always correcting him, unwilling to either recognize or support these qualities in him.
A voice of support, confidence, and encouragement from you is electric to him. It quells the continual struggle against any sense of inadequacy that smolders inside of him. When you pull him aside to pray for him, when you tell him he’s been on your mind, when he sees in your eyes that you’re proud of the man he’s becoming, it’s like a shot of pure adrenaline to his system. It’s the soft warmth of security that comforts him from the ridicule of a harsh world and the internal jeering of his own insecurity.
Sure, there are times for talking plainly and honestly about things he needs to improve and watch out for. But probably not right now in the heat of the moment with that disappointment written all over his face. And probably not until he already knows for sure that your basic default is to love and take delight in him. An overall demeanor of gratitude will go a long way whenever the occasional reality check is called for.
If you’re like me, you have an inclination to be overly critical of your husband’s actions. But if your husband is anything like mine (and I suspect he is), he bristles at being corrected, criticized, and mothered by you. It makes him feel belittled and insignificant. Beaten down and discouraged. And even if you think that’s the way he ought to feel about himself after what he’s done and not done for you and your marriage, this sets a man up to be even more damaging and destructive to his entire family. It’s not good for anybody.
Men, honestly, even with all their complexities, are really very basic and uncomplicated. Our cutting, nagging comments can wound them deeply, especially when the disapproval builds up over time. What we think of as no more than a little jab about a specific incident becomes a stabbing wound that leaves a hole in their manhood.
Yet equally as powerful are our simple, honest, even offhand compliments that can make our husbands feel like a million bucks. When we make it our business to remind them of their position in Christ and the potential and possibility that lies within them—not because we’re patronizing them but because we truly believe it—they feel on top of the world. One man told me that a little compliment his wife paid him one morning as he was leaving for work caused him to have confidence in his abilities all day at the office. It pays for us to choose wisely what we say and how we choose to say it.
Now perhaps your husband has consistently proven that he’s not worthy of your trust. He’s been careless with money, drawn to addictions, perhaps even unfaithful to his marriage vows. The reason you can’t ascribe high value to his character, you say, is because he hasn’t shown you very much of it. And you’re right—his carelessness, laziness, or lack of integrity is not your fault. You are not responsible for what he’s done and is doing, even if you’ve been less than careful about loving him well and feeding his ego.
But even you—even now—can resolve to affirm your husband and to promise that your trust in him is not gone forever. It may need to be reconstructed with the aid of outside help and ongoing accountability, but he needs to know that your heart’s desire is to reestablish confidence in him.
So even in the most minor of baby steps, will you begin inching forward in your visible signs of trust and affirmation toward him? Will you allow him the new (or at least long-forgotten) experience of walking into the day with his wife’s love and esteem trailing behind him? Will you look him in the eye and tell him you’re not devising a plan B, a fall-back arrangement in case he doesn’t ultimately pan out—that he is your one and only plan A?
And now, to the second of his fears.
His fear of being controlled
Males and females have equal value, but we are not the same. Your standards and opinions are different from his, perhaps in many areas of potential contention. But that doesn’t mean his way is necessarily wrong. It’s just different, though equally as crucial and valuable to the successful outcome of the situation. If you try to control him and force him into your way of thinking, you will break something that probably doesn’t need fixing, just understanding and valuing.
When your husband feels like he’s being controlled, he will eventually shut down completely, relegating his role of leadership to you, since “you seem to be doing such a good job at it anyway.” The result is a shadow of the man you once knew and loved—a deflated, disinterested slacker who makes few decisions and shows little initiative. Then, in the vicious cycle created by this marital dynamic, you become increasingly overwhelmed, frustrated, and upset because you feel like you’re bearing the burden he should be carrying—when in actuality, it’s the very burden you snatched away from him because you didn’t like how he was doing it.
But if, on the other hand, he doesn’t feel like he’s being bullied out of his God-given position as the leader in the home or held up to your overbearing, micromanaging scrutiny, he’ll not only be more likely to settle in to his potential but also to seek your help and willingly relinquish certain responsibilities that you’re clearly more equipped to handle. In other words, he won’t mind admitting that you’re better than him in a particular area. So some of the things you’ve been vying to claim more control and influence over may come back to you without a fight—as if it was his idea all along—once he doesn’t feel like he has no choice but to abdicate.
And you know what? This could also rebound to you in the areas of intimacy and romance. A man who feels controlled by his wife loses much of his desire for being tender toward a woman who sounds, acts, and treats him more like his mother. No wonder he doesn’t look dreamily into her eyes or spark romantic endeavors with her the way he used to do when she just wanted to be his sweetheart and allowed him to be her champion.
I’ve never seen a car whose engine started just because the driver was sitting behind the wheel, demanding that it move forward. Certain things need to happen before she can get the car to go—key in the ignition, maneuvered into the right gear, gently pressing on the accelerator. Men aren’t “turned on” by a demanding, screaming wife who doesn’t recognize their value and significance but by wives who know the strategic steps for getting them started. Control and intimacy are on opposing, collision courses that will inevitably banish passion to the long-term parking lot, eventually rusting out, in need of major repair. Backing off your husband helps him feel more confident, more fulfilled. And the result is a guy who loves being around you, enjoys long talks with you, and remembers how to romance you.
Helping him overcome
Two fears. Fear of inadequacy and fear of being controlled. You can do something about them both. In fact, your husband will never get over them without you.
But with you … who knows?
You are the ”suitable” helper (Genesis 2:18) the Lord has given him to assist him in realizing that with God’s help he can be proficient, honorable, trustworthy, and fully capable of becoming the man God intends him to be despite his fears.
You can do something about your husband’s twin fears. In fact, your husband will never get over them without you.
Priscilla Shirer
Throughout the last several years, I’ve enjoyed the distinct honor of sharing a speaker’s stage with two beloved authors and Bible teachers—Kay Arthur and Beth Moore. And during one of our recent panel discussions before thousands of women, Miss Kay summarized a huge dose of marriage reality into so tight a capsule that any of us could swallow it and keep it down.
She said that men possess two great fears:
the fear of being found inadequate
the fear of being controlled by a woman … which lead them to the following attitudes and aspirations: Your man wants to be your hero. He wants to feel like he is worthwhile to you and needed by you. He desires more than anything to see a look of love and admiration in your eyes. He wants to know that you celebrate him, depend on him, feel privileged to be married to him, and expect great things from him.
Let’s see what these twin fears in our guys’ lives have to do with us and what will happen if we try to alleviate them.
His fear of inadequacy
Your husband desires to know more than anything that you trust him, that you believe he has the wisdom and talent to succeed. He is fulfilled when he senses that, despite his inadequacies, you see the possibilities and potential God has given him as your provider and protector. He likes knowing you’re praying for him, rooting for him, assuring him that he still has what it takes to be the man of your dreams. When he feels genuinely affirmed by you, it makes him want to live up to your trust in most cases. Then even when he falls short, it will be apparent that his desire was to meet your expectations. You’ll see in his eyes that he was trying to please you.
This alone should be some cause for your continued trust and appreciation, as opposed to blanket disapproval (which we are often notorious for offering). When he starts to sense that all you ever think he can do is to be sloppy, forgetful, unimaginative, irresponsible, weak, indecisive, and clueless, he will become less inclined and motivated over time to prove you wrong. He knows you’ll only find something to be critical of anyway.
I know your man’s not perfect. Not even close, you say? He knows it too. He’s not delusional. He knows he’s flawed, even if he’s not quick to admit it out loud. But just like you and me, he is not to be defined by his imperfections. He has been divinely wired to be a leader, father, and provider for your family. And the last thing he needs or wants is a wife who doesn’t believe it, who’s always correcting him, unwilling to either recognize or support these qualities in him.
A voice of support, confidence, and encouragement from you is electric to him. It quells the continual struggle against any sense of inadequacy that smolders inside of him. When you pull him aside to pray for him, when you tell him he’s been on your mind, when he sees in your eyes that you’re proud of the man he’s becoming, it’s like a shot of pure adrenaline to his system. It’s the soft warmth of security that comforts him from the ridicule of a harsh world and the internal jeering of his own insecurity.
Sure, there are times for talking plainly and honestly about things he needs to improve and watch out for. But probably not right now in the heat of the moment with that disappointment written all over his face. And probably not until he already knows for sure that your basic default is to love and take delight in him. An overall demeanor of gratitude will go a long way whenever the occasional reality check is called for.
If you’re like me, you have an inclination to be overly critical of your husband’s actions. But if your husband is anything like mine (and I suspect he is), he bristles at being corrected, criticized, and mothered by you. It makes him feel belittled and insignificant. Beaten down and discouraged. And even if you think that’s the way he ought to feel about himself after what he’s done and not done for you and your marriage, this sets a man up to be even more damaging and destructive to his entire family. It’s not good for anybody.
Men, honestly, even with all their complexities, are really very basic and uncomplicated. Our cutting, nagging comments can wound them deeply, especially when the disapproval builds up over time. What we think of as no more than a little jab about a specific incident becomes a stabbing wound that leaves a hole in their manhood.
Yet equally as powerful are our simple, honest, even offhand compliments that can make our husbands feel like a million bucks. When we make it our business to remind them of their position in Christ and the potential and possibility that lies within them—not because we’re patronizing them but because we truly believe it—they feel on top of the world. One man told me that a little compliment his wife paid him one morning as he was leaving for work caused him to have confidence in his abilities all day at the office. It pays for us to choose wisely what we say and how we choose to say it.
Now perhaps your husband has consistently proven that he’s not worthy of your trust. He’s been careless with money, drawn to addictions, perhaps even unfaithful to his marriage vows. The reason you can’t ascribe high value to his character, you say, is because he hasn’t shown you very much of it. And you’re right—his carelessness, laziness, or lack of integrity is not your fault. You are not responsible for what he’s done and is doing, even if you’ve been less than careful about loving him well and feeding his ego.
But even you—even now—can resolve to affirm your husband and to promise that your trust in him is not gone forever. It may need to be reconstructed with the aid of outside help and ongoing accountability, but he needs to know that your heart’s desire is to reestablish confidence in him.
So even in the most minor of baby steps, will you begin inching forward in your visible signs of trust and affirmation toward him? Will you allow him the new (or at least long-forgotten) experience of walking into the day with his wife’s love and esteem trailing behind him? Will you look him in the eye and tell him you’re not devising a plan B, a fall-back arrangement in case he doesn’t ultimately pan out—that he is your one and only plan A?
And now, to the second of his fears.
His fear of being controlled
Males and females have equal value, but we are not the same. Your standards and opinions are different from his, perhaps in many areas of potential contention. But that doesn’t mean his way is necessarily wrong. It’s just different, though equally as crucial and valuable to the successful outcome of the situation. If you try to control him and force him into your way of thinking, you will break something that probably doesn’t need fixing, just understanding and valuing.
When your husband feels like he’s being controlled, he will eventually shut down completely, relegating his role of leadership to you, since “you seem to be doing such a good job at it anyway.” The result is a shadow of the man you once knew and loved—a deflated, disinterested slacker who makes few decisions and shows little initiative. Then, in the vicious cycle created by this marital dynamic, you become increasingly overwhelmed, frustrated, and upset because you feel like you’re bearing the burden he should be carrying—when in actuality, it’s the very burden you snatched away from him because you didn’t like how he was doing it.
But if, on the other hand, he doesn’t feel like he’s being bullied out of his God-given position as the leader in the home or held up to your overbearing, micromanaging scrutiny, he’ll not only be more likely to settle in to his potential but also to seek your help and willingly relinquish certain responsibilities that you’re clearly more equipped to handle. In other words, he won’t mind admitting that you’re better than him in a particular area. So some of the things you’ve been vying to claim more control and influence over may come back to you without a fight—as if it was his idea all along—once he doesn’t feel like he has no choice but to abdicate.
And you know what? This could also rebound to you in the areas of intimacy and romance. A man who feels controlled by his wife loses much of his desire for being tender toward a woman who sounds, acts, and treats him more like his mother. No wonder he doesn’t look dreamily into her eyes or spark romantic endeavors with her the way he used to do when she just wanted to be his sweetheart and allowed him to be her champion.
I’ve never seen a car whose engine started just because the driver was sitting behind the wheel, demanding that it move forward. Certain things need to happen before she can get the car to go—key in the ignition, maneuvered into the right gear, gently pressing on the accelerator. Men aren’t “turned on” by a demanding, screaming wife who doesn’t recognize their value and significance but by wives who know the strategic steps for getting them started. Control and intimacy are on opposing, collision courses that will inevitably banish passion to the long-term parking lot, eventually rusting out, in need of major repair. Backing off your husband helps him feel more confident, more fulfilled. And the result is a guy who loves being around you, enjoys long talks with you, and remembers how to romance you.
Helping him overcome
Two fears. Fear of inadequacy and fear of being controlled. You can do something about them both. In fact, your husband will never get over them without you.
But with you … who knows?
You are the ”suitable” helper (Genesis 2:18) the Lord has given him to assist him in realizing that with God’s help he can be proficient, honorable, trustworthy, and fully capable of becoming the man God intends him to be despite his fears.
Friday, October 7, 2011
October 7, 2011
The choice
Within one week, we both were invited to take our dream jobs. Too bad they were a thousand miles apart
Wendy Murray Zoba | posted 9/12/2008
"To paster bob from francis. we will miss you your boys and dog. you are the best paster I ever had and the best one I will ever have in my life."
My husband was inundated with notes like this one when, in June 1994, we left the church he had pastored in Honduras for four years. Bob and I wanted to settle stateside for the high school years of our three sons. The pain of that season of good-byes ("See you in heaven!") was intense.
At the same time, the future was uncertain. When the American Airlines 757 lifted us away from those green-velvet mountains, we had no forwarding address; no income; no idea where we would lay our heads one week to the next. Our church paid our airfare back to Cleveland, where my husband's parents met us with our sole possession: a Dodge Caravan they purchased for us with money we'd left in a stateside account.
For months we meandered up and down the eastern U.S.—the three boys and our hundred-pound retriever sharing space in the back seats and our worldly possessions squeezed into the car-top carrier. Loving friends and family took us in (dog and all).
That was the easy part.
After the initial four-month sojourn, we settled temporarily in Bob's hometown in Ohio to seek permanent jobs. I was uncertain what my dreams of working in Christian journalism would come to, but soon several congregations were interested in Bob. We wondered at God's orchestration: months of rootless wandering, and suddenly—a choice!
We narrowed the field to a church in New Jersey and arranged the candidating weekend. Our lives seemed to be on a steady course when, out of nowhere, we were suddenly pitched into a whirlwind.
Change of Course
I had seen an ad in Christianity Today magazine soliciting resumes for the position of associate editor. My journalistic experience had included newspaper articles and a column for the English-language newspaper in Honduras. I also worked for a national magazine that had me chasing down things like unsavory details about human rights abuses and child prostitution (and kept me looking over my shoulder a lot). The thought of working for a Christian publication was a dream to me. So when I read that the magazine wanted someone with both journalism experience and a theological degree, I joked to my husband, "What they're looking for has my name on it!"
"Send 'em a resume," was his casual reply.
Two weeks later, on a Tuesday, Bob and I sat at our kitchen table, stunned. I had a job offer in the Chicago area, and he was scheduled to preach as a candidate at the church in New Jersey. I choked back the tears that Sunday morning as my husband preached the sermon of his life. Every pew was filled, the congregation was spiritually alive, and they wanted my husband as their pastor. I privately started dismantling my dream.
Back in Ohio, we were completely confounded. Bob couldn't bring himself to snuff out the dream of my lifetime, while I couldn't ask him to pass up this church. To the west, where my aspirations lay, there were no assurances for anyone but me: no job for my husband; no home to walk into; insufficient income (until my husband could find work); no network of friends; no church waiting to welcome us. Our family had everything to gain by going east—a ready-made home, community, income and church family.
Bob and I fell silent, mentally coexisting in the separate worlds that wooed us. He mulled over strategies for networking small groups; I fantasized about conversations with my contemporary Christian heroes.
Within one week, we both were invited to take our dream jobs. Too bad they were a thousand miles apart. But even those fantasies couldn't justify, in my mind, putting my family through the turmoil that would attend my dream. Four days into that painful week, Bob and I lay on our bed, elbows propped. With tears welling up, I broke the silence: "I'll call them and tell them I'm not coming."
He answered: "Don't call them yet."
Nearly a week of indecision passed. Both would-be employers were waiting to hear from us. "Flip a coin!" our parents were saying.
Then, out of nowhere, my husband walked up and put his arms around me. "I think we should move west," he said, "because it requires more faith."
We packed up the Caravan in the dead of winter, kids and dog in their usual places, and moved west. I started my new job, sitting with editors and designers, conceiving titles and cover concepts. Bob sat with the Welcome Wagon lady as she showered him with free samples from Mary Kay.
Forbidding Love
My husband came to know the Lord through the book The Brothers Karamazov, by Dostoevsky. The godly, searching nature of the lead character, Alyosha, convinced him of the authenticity of Christian faith, even in the face of suffering. Father Zossima, a pious monk, taught Alyosha about the nature of love: "A true act of love, unlike imaginary love, is hard and forbidding. Imaginary love yearns for an immediate heroic act that is achieved quickly and seen by everyone … A true act of love, on the other hand, requires hard work and patience, and, for some, it is a whole way of life." I suppose that's what Paul meant when he told husbands to love their wives "as Christ loved the church"—a love that, at times, can be "forbidding."
We held out hope that Bob would quickly receive a pastoral call. And almost instantly, he secured an interim position. But the long commute and the part-time status of that position led him to look for a full-time pastorate closer to home. The weeks stretched into months, and then years, of wondering why nothing emerged. Loving me "as Christ loved the church" meant, in my husband's case, finding sales at the grocery store on Tuesdays and throwing the wash in on Wednesdays.
I found it incomprehensible that God would have perfectly orchestrated the realization of my dream without so much as giving a nod to my husband's. There have been times when following the path that required "more faith" has tendered so little light that we could only grope along wondering where God could be in all this.
I started my new job. My husband sat with the Welcome Wagon lady as she showered him with free samples from Mary Kay.Two years passed before Bob secured a permanent pastoral position. During that time we learned to stop measuring our life in terms of dreams realized or lost. Jim Elliot, the martyred missionary, wrote: "Is it not for all its sting a wonderful way to live … to dream and want and pray almost savagely; then to commit and wait and see him quietly pile all dreams aside and replace them with what we could not dream—the realized will?"
In our groping, Bob and I stumbled into the territory of God's "realized will." We found a wholeness not defined by our categories or upheld by earthly props. We began to understand that God's purposes aren't always defined in terms of career advancement; and that his plan is bigger than the sum total of our dreams. We learned that we cannot "manage" God, and that freed us to pray simply, "You are my portion, O Lord" (Ps. 119:57).
A few months ago, we were sitting in our family room for family devotions. My husband asked our boys, "Are you happy in the Lord?"
I wondered what he meant.
"Yes," our 13-year-old said.
"Why are you happy?" Bob asked.
"Because I'm in cross country and it's fun," he said.
"Could you be happy if you weren't in cross country?" Bob asked.
"Yes. Because I have lots of friends," he said.
"Could you be happy if you didn't have lots of friends?"
Our son didn't answer.
Being "happy" in the Lord, Bob and I came to see, is not getting everything we want when we want it. It is an elusive and indescribable sense that all is well, regardless of our circumstances. Sometimes it takes being backed against a wall before that kind of well-being can be born in our hearts.
When the 72 disciples Jesus had sent out on a ministry tour returned elated with their results, he told them: "Do not rejoice that spirits submit to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven" (Luke 10:20). It was as if Jesus had asked them, "Could you be 'happy' serving me if the demons hadn't submitted to you?"
It was as if he were asking my husband, "Could you be happy doing my will for a season if you didn't have a pastorate?"
We ended our devotions by thanking God that our names are written in heaven and that his love does not change and cannot be taken away. Bob fixed himself on the couch, looked at me and said, "I'm happy in the Lord."
Wendy Murray Zoba is an award-winning author, publisher of Ecco Qua Press, and a former associate editor of Christianity Today.
Copyright © 1997 by Christianity Today International/Marriage Partnership Magazine.
Within one week, we both were invited to take our dream jobs. Too bad they were a thousand miles apart
Wendy Murray Zoba | posted 9/12/2008
"To paster bob from francis. we will miss you your boys and dog. you are the best paster I ever had and the best one I will ever have in my life."
My husband was inundated with notes like this one when, in June 1994, we left the church he had pastored in Honduras for four years. Bob and I wanted to settle stateside for the high school years of our three sons. The pain of that season of good-byes ("See you in heaven!") was intense.
At the same time, the future was uncertain. When the American Airlines 757 lifted us away from those green-velvet mountains, we had no forwarding address; no income; no idea where we would lay our heads one week to the next. Our church paid our airfare back to Cleveland, where my husband's parents met us with our sole possession: a Dodge Caravan they purchased for us with money we'd left in a stateside account.
For months we meandered up and down the eastern U.S.—the three boys and our hundred-pound retriever sharing space in the back seats and our worldly possessions squeezed into the car-top carrier. Loving friends and family took us in (dog and all).
That was the easy part.
After the initial four-month sojourn, we settled temporarily in Bob's hometown in Ohio to seek permanent jobs. I was uncertain what my dreams of working in Christian journalism would come to, but soon several congregations were interested in Bob. We wondered at God's orchestration: months of rootless wandering, and suddenly—a choice!
We narrowed the field to a church in New Jersey and arranged the candidating weekend. Our lives seemed to be on a steady course when, out of nowhere, we were suddenly pitched into a whirlwind.
Change of Course
I had seen an ad in Christianity Today magazine soliciting resumes for the position of associate editor. My journalistic experience had included newspaper articles and a column for the English-language newspaper in Honduras. I also worked for a national magazine that had me chasing down things like unsavory details about human rights abuses and child prostitution (and kept me looking over my shoulder a lot). The thought of working for a Christian publication was a dream to me. So when I read that the magazine wanted someone with both journalism experience and a theological degree, I joked to my husband, "What they're looking for has my name on it!"
"Send 'em a resume," was his casual reply.
Two weeks later, on a Tuesday, Bob and I sat at our kitchen table, stunned. I had a job offer in the Chicago area, and he was scheduled to preach as a candidate at the church in New Jersey. I choked back the tears that Sunday morning as my husband preached the sermon of his life. Every pew was filled, the congregation was spiritually alive, and they wanted my husband as their pastor. I privately started dismantling my dream.
Back in Ohio, we were completely confounded. Bob couldn't bring himself to snuff out the dream of my lifetime, while I couldn't ask him to pass up this church. To the west, where my aspirations lay, there were no assurances for anyone but me: no job for my husband; no home to walk into; insufficient income (until my husband could find work); no network of friends; no church waiting to welcome us. Our family had everything to gain by going east—a ready-made home, community, income and church family.
Bob and I fell silent, mentally coexisting in the separate worlds that wooed us. He mulled over strategies for networking small groups; I fantasized about conversations with my contemporary Christian heroes.
Within one week, we both were invited to take our dream jobs. Too bad they were a thousand miles apart. But even those fantasies couldn't justify, in my mind, putting my family through the turmoil that would attend my dream. Four days into that painful week, Bob and I lay on our bed, elbows propped. With tears welling up, I broke the silence: "I'll call them and tell them I'm not coming."
He answered: "Don't call them yet."
Nearly a week of indecision passed. Both would-be employers were waiting to hear from us. "Flip a coin!" our parents were saying.
Then, out of nowhere, my husband walked up and put his arms around me. "I think we should move west," he said, "because it requires more faith."
We packed up the Caravan in the dead of winter, kids and dog in their usual places, and moved west. I started my new job, sitting with editors and designers, conceiving titles and cover concepts. Bob sat with the Welcome Wagon lady as she showered him with free samples from Mary Kay.
Forbidding Love
My husband came to know the Lord through the book The Brothers Karamazov, by Dostoevsky. The godly, searching nature of the lead character, Alyosha, convinced him of the authenticity of Christian faith, even in the face of suffering. Father Zossima, a pious monk, taught Alyosha about the nature of love: "A true act of love, unlike imaginary love, is hard and forbidding. Imaginary love yearns for an immediate heroic act that is achieved quickly and seen by everyone … A true act of love, on the other hand, requires hard work and patience, and, for some, it is a whole way of life." I suppose that's what Paul meant when he told husbands to love their wives "as Christ loved the church"—a love that, at times, can be "forbidding."
We held out hope that Bob would quickly receive a pastoral call. And almost instantly, he secured an interim position. But the long commute and the part-time status of that position led him to look for a full-time pastorate closer to home. The weeks stretched into months, and then years, of wondering why nothing emerged. Loving me "as Christ loved the church" meant, in my husband's case, finding sales at the grocery store on Tuesdays and throwing the wash in on Wednesdays.
I found it incomprehensible that God would have perfectly orchestrated the realization of my dream without so much as giving a nod to my husband's. There have been times when following the path that required "more faith" has tendered so little light that we could only grope along wondering where God could be in all this.
I started my new job. My husband sat with the Welcome Wagon lady as she showered him with free samples from Mary Kay.Two years passed before Bob secured a permanent pastoral position. During that time we learned to stop measuring our life in terms of dreams realized or lost. Jim Elliot, the martyred missionary, wrote: "Is it not for all its sting a wonderful way to live … to dream and want and pray almost savagely; then to commit and wait and see him quietly pile all dreams aside and replace them with what we could not dream—the realized will?"
In our groping, Bob and I stumbled into the territory of God's "realized will." We found a wholeness not defined by our categories or upheld by earthly props. We began to understand that God's purposes aren't always defined in terms of career advancement; and that his plan is bigger than the sum total of our dreams. We learned that we cannot "manage" God, and that freed us to pray simply, "You are my portion, O Lord" (Ps. 119:57).
A few months ago, we were sitting in our family room for family devotions. My husband asked our boys, "Are you happy in the Lord?"
I wondered what he meant.
"Yes," our 13-year-old said.
"Why are you happy?" Bob asked.
"Because I'm in cross country and it's fun," he said.
"Could you be happy if you weren't in cross country?" Bob asked.
"Yes. Because I have lots of friends," he said.
"Could you be happy if you didn't have lots of friends?"
Our son didn't answer.
Being "happy" in the Lord, Bob and I came to see, is not getting everything we want when we want it. It is an elusive and indescribable sense that all is well, regardless of our circumstances. Sometimes it takes being backed against a wall before that kind of well-being can be born in our hearts.
When the 72 disciples Jesus had sent out on a ministry tour returned elated with their results, he told them: "Do not rejoice that spirits submit to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven" (Luke 10:20). It was as if Jesus had asked them, "Could you be 'happy' serving me if the demons hadn't submitted to you?"
It was as if he were asking my husband, "Could you be happy doing my will for a season if you didn't have a pastorate?"
We ended our devotions by thanking God that our names are written in heaven and that his love does not change and cannot be taken away. Bob fixed himself on the couch, looked at me and said, "I'm happy in the Lord."
Wendy Murray Zoba is an award-winning author, publisher of Ecco Qua Press, and a former associate editor of Christianity Today.
Copyright © 1997 by Christianity Today International/Marriage Partnership Magazine.
Thursday, October 6, 2011
October 6, 2011
Why Hope?
I’m sure you’ve heard the old adage, “It’s darkest before the dawn!” These words encourage us to hold on to hope when circumstances seem to be getting worse, when our challenges are the greatest, and when our situations are the most hopeless. It reminds us that, even at our lowest points we must not let go of believing in the possibility and promise of breakthrough!
While this little phrase isn’t found in the Bible, it communicates a biblical truth. Throughout Scripture we find story after story of people who faced very dark, grim realities. Any reasonable human assessment of their situations would declare them as impossible, doomed, and hopeless. Yet time and time again, in their darkest moments many of these folks found the secret of help and hope. They called out to God, trusted in Him and patiently waited for Him to work. And without fail, they found God to be faithful. They discovered that holding on to hope in God, even when circumstances demanded otherwise, was the right thing to do.
Take a look at some reminders of the power of hope:
Why are you downcast, O my soul? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise Him, my God and my Savior. – Psalm 42:11 (NIV)
Find rest, O my soul, in God alone; my hope comes from Him. He alone is my rock and my salvation; He is my fortress, I will not be shaken. – Psalm 62:5, 6 (NIV)
We wait in hope for the Lord; He is our help and our shield – Psalm 33:20 (NIV)
What dark situation are you facing today? Don’t give up. Hold on to hope!
Here’s a prayer for you!
May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in Him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit. – Romans 15:13 (NIV)
Why hope? Because God’s help is on the way!
Pastor Dale
I’m sure you’ve heard the old adage, “It’s darkest before the dawn!” These words encourage us to hold on to hope when circumstances seem to be getting worse, when our challenges are the greatest, and when our situations are the most hopeless. It reminds us that, even at our lowest points we must not let go of believing in the possibility and promise of breakthrough!
While this little phrase isn’t found in the Bible, it communicates a biblical truth. Throughout Scripture we find story after story of people who faced very dark, grim realities. Any reasonable human assessment of their situations would declare them as impossible, doomed, and hopeless. Yet time and time again, in their darkest moments many of these folks found the secret of help and hope. They called out to God, trusted in Him and patiently waited for Him to work. And without fail, they found God to be faithful. They discovered that holding on to hope in God, even when circumstances demanded otherwise, was the right thing to do.
Take a look at some reminders of the power of hope:
Why are you downcast, O my soul? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise Him, my God and my Savior. – Psalm 42:11 (NIV)
Find rest, O my soul, in God alone; my hope comes from Him. He alone is my rock and my salvation; He is my fortress, I will not be shaken. – Psalm 62:5, 6 (NIV)
We wait in hope for the Lord; He is our help and our shield – Psalm 33:20 (NIV)
What dark situation are you facing today? Don’t give up. Hold on to hope!
Here’s a prayer for you!
May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in Him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit. – Romans 15:13 (NIV)
Why hope? Because God’s help is on the way!
Pastor Dale
October 5, 2011
President Lincoln's Fast
Dan Graves, MSL
Historians have argued whether or not Abraham Lincoln, one of America's best-known presidents, ever became a committed Christian. As a youth Lincoln mocked the scriptures. After the death of his favorite son, Willie, he groped for some hope which could give him solace. His wife Mary and he attended séances, but eventually renounced them as fraudulent. The cares and trials of the war drove Lincoln increasingly to his Bible.
His lifelong friend Joshua Speed remembered, "As I entered the room near night, [Lincoln] was sitting near a window reading his Bible. Approaching him, I said, 'I am glad to see you profitably engaged.' 'Yes,' said he, 'I am profitably engaged.' 'Well,' said I, 'if you have recovered from your skepticism I am sorry to say that I have not!' Looking me earnestly in the face, and placing his hand upon my shoulder, he said: 'You are wrong Speed; take all of this book upon reason that you can, and the balance on faith and you will live and die a happier and better man.'"
Many of Lincoln's communications allude to God. In his personal correspondence to Mrs. Gurney, a Quakeress, he wrote, "We hoped for a happy termination of this terrible war before this; but God knows best and has ruled otherwise." Increasingly he saw himself as an instrument of the Lord's will, inscrutable though that might be.
He wrestled to understand why the North continued to lose although its cause, the abolition of slavery and preservation of the union, seemed the more justifiable side. In the end, in a note not written for public consumption, Lincoln concluded that "the will of God prevails. . . .Both [sides] may be wrong. . . .in the present civil war it is quite possible God's purpose is something quite different from the purpose of either party."
There was as much sin to evoke God's wrath upon the Union as on the slave-owning Confederacy. On August 12, 1861 he issued a proclamation in the Northern States for a day of public humiliation, prayer and fasting "to be observed by the people of the United States with religious solemnities. ... It is peculiarly fit for us to recognize the hand of God in this terrible visitation, and in sorrowful remembrance of our own faults and crimes as a nation and as individuals to humble ourselves before Him, and to pray for His mercy... "
The fast was observed on this day, September 26, 1861, the last Thursday of the month. As anyone knows who is familiar with the history of the war, the fighting ground along for another three years, chewing up the lives and limbs of men in prodigious numbers. In the end Lincoln himself was assassinated. He left a legacy of profound words.
Bibliography:
Current, Richard N. The Lincoln Nobody Knows. New York: McGraw-Hill, 1958.
Gross, Ernie. This Day in Religion. New York, N.Y. : Neal-Schuman Publishers, 1990.
Lincoln, Abraham. Collected Works of Abraham Lincoln. Edited by Roy P. Basler; Marion Dolores Pratt and Lloyd A. Dunlap, assistant editors. New Brunswick, New Jersey: Rutgers University Press, 1953 - 1955.
Last updated April, 2007.
Find this article at: http://www.christianity.com/churchhistory
Dan Graves, MSL
Historians have argued whether or not Abraham Lincoln, one of America's best-known presidents, ever became a committed Christian. As a youth Lincoln mocked the scriptures. After the death of his favorite son, Willie, he groped for some hope which could give him solace. His wife Mary and he attended séances, but eventually renounced them as fraudulent. The cares and trials of the war drove Lincoln increasingly to his Bible.
His lifelong friend Joshua Speed remembered, "As I entered the room near night, [Lincoln] was sitting near a window reading his Bible. Approaching him, I said, 'I am glad to see you profitably engaged.' 'Yes,' said he, 'I am profitably engaged.' 'Well,' said I, 'if you have recovered from your skepticism I am sorry to say that I have not!' Looking me earnestly in the face, and placing his hand upon my shoulder, he said: 'You are wrong Speed; take all of this book upon reason that you can, and the balance on faith and you will live and die a happier and better man.'"
Many of Lincoln's communications allude to God. In his personal correspondence to Mrs. Gurney, a Quakeress, he wrote, "We hoped for a happy termination of this terrible war before this; but God knows best and has ruled otherwise." Increasingly he saw himself as an instrument of the Lord's will, inscrutable though that might be.
He wrestled to understand why the North continued to lose although its cause, the abolition of slavery and preservation of the union, seemed the more justifiable side. In the end, in a note not written for public consumption, Lincoln concluded that "the will of God prevails. . . .Both [sides] may be wrong. . . .in the present civil war it is quite possible God's purpose is something quite different from the purpose of either party."
There was as much sin to evoke God's wrath upon the Union as on the slave-owning Confederacy. On August 12, 1861 he issued a proclamation in the Northern States for a day of public humiliation, prayer and fasting "to be observed by the people of the United States with religious solemnities. ... It is peculiarly fit for us to recognize the hand of God in this terrible visitation, and in sorrowful remembrance of our own faults and crimes as a nation and as individuals to humble ourselves before Him, and to pray for His mercy... "
The fast was observed on this day, September 26, 1861, the last Thursday of the month. As anyone knows who is familiar with the history of the war, the fighting ground along for another three years, chewing up the lives and limbs of men in prodigious numbers. In the end Lincoln himself was assassinated. He left a legacy of profound words.
Bibliography:
Current, Richard N. The Lincoln Nobody Knows. New York: McGraw-Hill, 1958.
Gross, Ernie. This Day in Religion. New York, N.Y. : Neal-Schuman Publishers, 1990.
Lincoln, Abraham. Collected Works of Abraham Lincoln. Edited by Roy P. Basler; Marion Dolores Pratt and Lloyd A. Dunlap, assistant editors. New Brunswick, New Jersey: Rutgers University Press, 1953 - 1955.
Last updated April, 2007.
Find this article at: http://www.christianity.com/churchhistory
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
October 4, 2011
Tough and Tender
A while back I had an enlightening conversation with a friend — a fellow pastor — about a young man on his church staff. This young man had served with his pastor for several years. He was a great support and blessing to him and to the church, and has continued to be blessing. As my friend described this fellow’s character, I was struck by two things about him . He was both tough and tender.
As I listened to the pastor outline the responsibilities this person carried, and the way he carried them, I was impressed by this fellow’s strength. He was tough. He knew how to handle tough moments, tough situations, and a tough and often demanding work schedule. According to my friend, he did these things with grace, and without complaining to himself or others. He had mettle, steel, grit in his nature that made him reliable and useful. There was a wonderful toughness about him.
But there was also another side to him. He had a very tender heart — a tender conscience. The pastor told me that practically every time he needed to address a point of correction or growth with him, the young man would beat him to it! Before the pastor even brought up the subject, this fellow would show up at his office and bring up the issue himself, saying:
“Pastor, the Lord has showed me ____________ about myself ” or “I realize that I handled ____________ the wrong way.”
He would then proceed to either ask forgiveness and/or request help from his pastor about the situation. There was a wonderful tenderness about him.
My friend described the sensitivity of this young man’s conscience as rare and deeply touching. He described his spirit of humility as refreshing. He described his mentoring relationship with this fellow as a tremendous joy and privilege. And as a result of this young man’s heart and character, his spiritual and ministry growth has skyrocketed and his usefulness to the work of God’s Kingdom has expanded greatly. He understands what so many never understand. He grasps the value of both toughness and tenderness!
How does this young man’s example relate to you and me? It leads each of us to take a look at ourselves and to ask ourselves some important questions. Here are some questions for you to consider:
How tough are you? What is your response to the challenges and demands of life? What happens to your attitude in tough times? Do you have spiritual mettle, steel and grit in your “gut” that keeps you going? Does your spirit stay unsullied and your communication stay positive in dry or demanding seasons?
Take a look at what the Bible says about the importance of toughness:
If you fail under pressure, your strength is small. – Proverbs 24:10 (NLT)
How tender are you? Are you sensitive to the Holy Spirit? Do you allow Him to convict you and correct you? Do you find it easy or difficult to acknowledge your failures and mistakes to God and others? Are you teachable — truly hungry to learn and grow — and do you openly and clearly communicate this eagerness to learn and grow to the people God has placed in your life to help you?
The Bible reminds us that God desires to make us tender people — responsive to His Word and Spirit’s work in our hearts:
… I will take away their stony, stubborn heart and give them a tender, responsive heart … ” – Ezekiel 11:19 (NLT)
God is looking for folks He can use. Toughness and tenderness make us useable. It’s a rare and precious character combination!
Pastor Dale
A while back I had an enlightening conversation with a friend — a fellow pastor — about a young man on his church staff. This young man had served with his pastor for several years. He was a great support and blessing to him and to the church, and has continued to be blessing. As my friend described this fellow’s character, I was struck by two things about him . He was both tough and tender.
As I listened to the pastor outline the responsibilities this person carried, and the way he carried them, I was impressed by this fellow’s strength. He was tough. He knew how to handle tough moments, tough situations, and a tough and often demanding work schedule. According to my friend, he did these things with grace, and without complaining to himself or others. He had mettle, steel, grit in his nature that made him reliable and useful. There was a wonderful toughness about him.
But there was also another side to him. He had a very tender heart — a tender conscience. The pastor told me that practically every time he needed to address a point of correction or growth with him, the young man would beat him to it! Before the pastor even brought up the subject, this fellow would show up at his office and bring up the issue himself, saying:
“Pastor, the Lord has showed me ____________ about myself ” or “I realize that I handled ____________ the wrong way.”
He would then proceed to either ask forgiveness and/or request help from his pastor about the situation. There was a wonderful tenderness about him.
My friend described the sensitivity of this young man’s conscience as rare and deeply touching. He described his spirit of humility as refreshing. He described his mentoring relationship with this fellow as a tremendous joy and privilege. And as a result of this young man’s heart and character, his spiritual and ministry growth has skyrocketed and his usefulness to the work of God’s Kingdom has expanded greatly. He understands what so many never understand. He grasps the value of both toughness and tenderness!
How does this young man’s example relate to you and me? It leads each of us to take a look at ourselves and to ask ourselves some important questions. Here are some questions for you to consider:
How tough are you? What is your response to the challenges and demands of life? What happens to your attitude in tough times? Do you have spiritual mettle, steel and grit in your “gut” that keeps you going? Does your spirit stay unsullied and your communication stay positive in dry or demanding seasons?
Take a look at what the Bible says about the importance of toughness:
If you fail under pressure, your strength is small. – Proverbs 24:10 (NLT)
How tender are you? Are you sensitive to the Holy Spirit? Do you allow Him to convict you and correct you? Do you find it easy or difficult to acknowledge your failures and mistakes to God and others? Are you teachable — truly hungry to learn and grow — and do you openly and clearly communicate this eagerness to learn and grow to the people God has placed in your life to help you?
The Bible reminds us that God desires to make us tender people — responsive to His Word and Spirit’s work in our hearts:
… I will take away their stony, stubborn heart and give them a tender, responsive heart … ” – Ezekiel 11:19 (NLT)
God is looking for folks He can use. Toughness and tenderness make us useable. It’s a rare and precious character combination!
Pastor Dale
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