Last Man to Surrender
When is it time to surrender? Lt. Hiroo Onada was left on the Island of Lubang in the Philippines on Christmas Day, 1944. He was 22 years old. His standing orders were to “carry on the mission even if Japan surrenders.” As Japan evacuated the island, Onada and three other Japanese soldiers remained behind. One of the four surrendered in 1950. Another was killed in a skirmish with local police in 1954. Another was killed in 1972. Over the years, Lt. Onada lived off the land and raided the fields and gardens of the local citizens. He killed at least thirty nationals during his twenty-nine year personal war. He ignored the leaflets that were dropped and the command given over loudspeakers announcing that Japan and the United States had become allies. At one point, more than 13,000 men were used to try to locate him and convince him to surrender. The cost of that effort was more than half a million dollars. Finally, on March 10, 1974, after more than 29 years, he surrendered a rusty sword to his former superior officer who read a cease-fire order. He was the last man to surrender from World War II. When you think about it, all of us have some battles that we fight. The battle of good vs. evil rages every day around us and in us. We want for good to win and for the evil in our world to lessen. We fight battles over time, priorities, and managing our own lives and families. Sometimes we battle those closest to us with weapons of angry words or unspoken resentments. For some, illness is the battle that consumes our lives. There are battles everywhere. There are some fights we can’t avoid. There are some that are worth fighting. Some aren’t. The key for us is to recognize which is which. Do you need to surrender? You’ve probably heard the old saying that you can “win the battle and lose the war.” The prematurely aged 52-year-old Lt. Hiroo was quoted as saying, “Nothing pleasant happened in 29 years in the jungle.” His battle cost him much more than we can imagine. One thing of which I’m confident, our war has already been won. Jesus made sure of that at Calvary and the empty tomb. The sting of sin is death. The power of death is the law. But thanks be to God! He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. (1 Corinthians 15:56-57)
Sinking or Walking
How are you doing in your walk toward Jesus? The other day, I was reading a passage I have read probably a thousand times. It is the story of Jesus walking on the water and Peter joining him for a short while. (Matthew 14:22-33) As I read it this time, however, a new insight popped into my head. I have used that passage numerous times when preaching, but never really thought about the idea that struck me this day. If you are familiar with the story you know that Peter had a faith issue as he began to walk on the water. Then, the crucial verse puts it this way: But while Peter was walking on the water, he saw the wind and the waves. Peter became afraid and began sinking down into the water. Peter shouted, “Lord, save me!” You know what occurred to me? If I had written that scene, I would have probably phrased it differently – probably something like, “As the winds and rain blew mightily around him, Peter’s faith failed him and as he suddenly splashed down into the water he screamed, ‘Lord, save me!’” Now you may not have noticed the subtle difference, but in the biblical version, Peter appears to have BEGUN sinking into the water slowly – not with a sudden splash. As I read that, the thought occurred to me, “Isn’t that just like how Satan works on us today! He doesn’t cause us to question our faith all at once or tempt us to suddenly become totally lost in sin, it happens gradually as we bit by bit take our eyes off of Jesus.” We have something come into our lives that opens the door for sin, and gradually, it takes us over completely. Just like Peter, we begin to sink an inch at a time. In one of the first few stories recorded in the Bible, Cain is warned by God about this problem. He said to him: “If you do well, will you not be accepted? And if you do not do well, sin is couching at the door; its desire is for you, but you must master it.” (Genesis 4:7 RSV) Sin did consume Cain; he didn’t call out to God for help or heed God’s warning. However, Peter cried out to the Lord for salvation. That tells me that we have an important choice that determines our outcome in such circumstances. Just like with Peter, Jesus has invited us to come to him, but do we have faith enough to take the walk across the stormy seas and be with him? An easy task? No! But it is not impossible, for the Lord is with us, calling us, reaching out for us. As Jesus said, “This is something that people cannot do themselves. It must come from God. God can do all things.” (Mark 10:27 ERV) There is an old hymn that puts it this way: I was sinking deep in sin,Far from the peaceful shore.Very deeply stained within,Sinking to rise no more;But the Master of the seaHeard my despairing cry,From the waters lifted meNow safe am I.Love lifted me!Love lifted me!When nothing else could help,Love lifted me. (Love Lifted Me by James Rowe) How are you doing walking on water toward Jesus? Bet you can’t do it by yourself! You need the Master of the universe to lift you up just like the rest of us. Praise God! Just like he did with Peter, he’s willing to do it for us! About the author: Russ Lawson is a former missionary to Africa and minister in Ohio. He now works with World Christian Literature Outreach and writes a weekly email devotional, Messages from the Heart. For more information about Russ, click here.
Sometimes I Just Like to Listen Now
Do you ever take time to listen and not sing? As a young preacher, one of the most intimidating things for me was having a brotherhood legend as one of my elders. It took several years and someone telling me what was happening before I stopped getting nervous. Every time Reuel took a note card out of his front pocket and wrote something down while I was preaching, I wondered what I had said that was wrong. Rather than writing down something I had wrongly said or something he didn’t agree with, I found out he was writing down what he liked and would use in his editorials. What I initially thought was a criticism was actually a compliment.) Another thing Reuel did that often concerned our worship leaders was to simply bow his head and not sing while we were singing congregationally. This was most noticeable on newer, more “contemporary” – whatever that really means – songs. This sometimes threw our worship leaders and irritated other members of the congregation. Finally, I got up enough nerve to go share this information with him. His answer – which I can still hear in his scratchy voice – went something like this: “Well, I sure don’t want to be discouraging during our singing, but sometimes I just like to listen.” No big problem here. No big theological issue or quarrel with song selection or content. With all he had on his plate, with all his years of ministry, with all his concerns about the future of God’s people, sometimes he just wanted to sit there and be blessed by the brothers and sisters as they sang! Years later, we lived in west Texas and suffered through several weeks of icy weather in the western and central parts of Texas. Roads had been closed. Businesses, schools, and churches had been closed. On Wednesday evening, our services were canceled at the building, but our HIP service (HIP stands for High Impact Praise) was conducted at a chapel on a university campus in town. The acoustics were great. There were only four of us who were over thirty years old in attendance. As we began to sing with no amplification or microphones, the sound of over three hundred voices melding into one great sound of praise drove me to sit there in silence. I just listened! As I sat there on the verge of major tear duct leakage, I remembered my elder’s old statement and made it my own. “Sometimes I just like to listen!” Like the proper salve for an open wound, like a glass of cool water on a hot day, and like a breath of fresh air for someone coming out of a mine shaft, this singing filled a deep soul-need. While I hope I’m never warped by an evil spirit as King Saul was, I sure understand how “the tormenting spirit would go away” when David sang and played for him (1 Samuel 16:23). Sitting there listening to these young adults praising God at the top of their voices in such beautiful harmony on a night when most folks in town didn’t venture outside their door sent my tormenting spirits scurrying for cover! I have known for years that praise music juices me in ways that I cannot define. So if you see me with a throng of worshipers and I’m not singing, please know this truth: I’m not angry. I don’t dislike the song selection. I’m not offended by something. it’s just that sometimes I just like to listen! About the author: Phil Ware has authored 11 years of daily devotionals, including VerseoftheDay.com, read by 500,000 people a day. He works with churches in transition with Interim Ministry Partners and for the past 21+ years, he has been editor and president of HEARTLIGHT Magazine, author of VerseoftheDay.com, God’s Holy Fire (on the Holy Spirit), and aYearwithJesus.com. Phil has also authored four books, daily devotionals on each of the four gospels.
Forgiveness
Forgiveness is good for you! Nelson Mandela took a bit of proverbial wisdom and made it his: “Resentment is like drinking poison and then hoping it will kill your enemies.” Others had said it before him, but Mandela lived it out in a public way, showing nothing but forgiveness toward those who kept him in prison. When inaugurated as President of South Africa, Mandela even invited one of the prison guards to the ceremony. Studies have shown resentment to be harmful to our health, while forgiveness has the opposite effect. A 2004 Harvard study found five principal benefits to forgiveness: Reduced stress Better heart health Stronger relationships Reduced pain Greater happiness Jesus offered more powerful reasons. One is that we forgive others because God forgives us. He told the story of a man who was forgiven an impossible debt who then had another man thrown into prison because of a much smaller debt. God is willing to forgive every one of our sins; how can we then turn around and be unforgiving toward others? Jesus said: “For if you forgive men when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive men their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins” (Matthew 6:14-15). Forgiveness is good for you. Resentment is harmful. The choice should be easy, yet we often find ourselves keeping a record of the wrongs done against us. Let me encourage you to let them go. Forgive. Move on with your life, focusing on the future and not the past. Find the peace that God can bring to your life when you’re willing to forgive. To talk more about forgiveness, write to me at tarcher@heraldoftruth.org or join the discussion at www.hopeforlife.org. (Expressed written consent must be obtained prior to republishing, retransmitting or otherwise reusing the content of this article. Contact us at info@hopeforlife.org) About the author: Tim Archer is the author of Church Inside Out and leads a seminar by the same name on behalf of Hope For Life, a Herald of Truth ministry.
I Will Not Abandon You, Ever!
What can we really expect the Spirit to do for us, today, in our world? The articles in “The Jesus Window” section for 2021 will be tied to our daily Bible reading that takes us through the four Gospels (Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John) once each quarter. Our reading focus this past week has been on John chapters 15-21. (Download the “Chasing Jesus” reading plan.) Years ago, we were going to a new church. When it came time to head home one evening, we could not find our 22-month-old son. He had been with us just a few moments earlier, but as they were turning off the lights and closing the building, Zach was nowhere to be found. The building was new turf for him. He didn’t know his way around. Worst of all, we didn’t know his favorite places in the building. All the lights, except a few in the foyer, were off. Donna and I were frantic! What if he made it to the street with it already dark outside with busy streets on both sides? Where could he be? How had he gotten away so quickly? Why wasn’t he crying? I began a search of the parking lot and the street. Donna searched through all the classrooms in the children’s wing. She found him in his Sunday morning classroom. The lights were off, but a window let light from the parking lot filter through the vertical blinds into where Zach played quietly with the teaching props. He was perfectly happy, playing with a few toys in near-total darkness. He talked and sang his Sunday school songs, unaware of his crazed parents looking for him. He didn’t feel alone in that room because he was in a place where people who loved him taught him to talk to God in prayer. They had spoken to him about God loving little children in this room where he now sat in darkness. This Bible classroom was home for him. He could be alone and unafraid because his church classroom was a familiar and safe place. We had telescoped our fear for our lost son onto him. We expected him to be frantic because he was alone and lost. We had transposed our adult fears onto him. Most of us know the terror of being a child who momentarily is lost. Many of us remember a time when we thought we were left alone as a child. Adults who are left alone and left behind collide with even deeper pain. Think of these jarring adult realities: Left at the altar. Left alone in ER after a beloved one dies. Left alone to pay the bills after a business partner has stolen funds. Left by a rebellious child who has run away from home determined to leave behind all the values a parent holds dear. Abandoned by a parent who left you alone as a child so she or he could live her or his own life. Left alone after having been served divorce papers by an officer of the court, surprised, devastated, and in shock. Jesus’ disciples were about to be left behind by their Lord. So, Jesus shared with them some of the most beautiful and comforting words ever recorded: [Jesus said,] “Do not let your hearts be troubled. You believe in God; believe also in me. My Father’s house has many rooms; if that were not so, would I have told you that I am going there to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am (John 14:1-3). As beautiful as these words can be in times of death, our question remains: “What do we do when we feel alone… today… at this moment in history… in the depths of our isolation… in our darkest moments of chaos and uncertainty?” Jesus’ words of comfort don’t stop with his promise that he is preparing a place for us with the Father later. They don’t stop with his promise to come back to take us home with him later. Jesus makes the following promises based upon the Holy Spirit’s coming to us and living in us, NOW: “I will not leave you as orphans, I will come to you” (John 14:18). “I too will love [you] and show myself to [you]” (John 14:21). “My Father will love [you], and we will come to [you] and make our home with [you]” (John 14:23). “But the Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you all things and will remind you of everything I have said to you” (John 14:26). Because of the Holy Spirit within us, Jesus reminds us that we will never be alone. The Spirit will live in us and make our heart the home for “all the fullness of God” living within us (Ephesians 3:16-19). God never abandons, forgets, or leaves us on our own (Romans 8:26-39). God is not only near; he is also present within us. Until the Father is ready for us to come home to him, He chooses to make his home in each of us! We are never left behind. The Spirit is always there with us, within us, to do God’s work and bring God’s blessings to us! (For a list of some of the things the Spirit does for us, with us, and through us, see the list at the end of this article.) Several months ago, I walked out into a field from my truck. It was a cold, dark, crisp morning, two hours before the sun would come up. There were no clouds in the sky. It was a new moon, so there was no moonlight. The first two hundred yards of my half-mile hike was a bit treacherous, so I used a green light to walk carefully yet not scare the wildlife. Once on an old
Broken Bread
Why is it so important to recognize that the bread is broken? Because we are broken, too! Scripture: [Jesus] replied, “You give them something to eat.” They answered, “We have only five loaves of bread and two fish – unless we go and buy food for all this crowd.” (About five thousand men were there.) But he said to his disciples, “Have them sit down in groups of about fifty each.” The disciples did so, and everyone sat down. Taking the five loaves and the two fish and looking up to heaven, he gave thanks and broke them. Then he gave them to the disciples to distribute to the people. They all ate and were satisfied, and the disciples picked up twelve basketfuls of broken pieces that were left over (Luke 9:13-17). When the hour came, Jesus and his apostles reclined at the table. And he said to them, “I have eagerly desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer.” … And he took bread, gave thanks and broke it, and gave it to them, saying, “This is my body given for you; do this in remembrance of me” (Luke 22:16-17, 19) Reflection: When Jesus shared a meal with his followers, he gave thanks and then broke the bread and passed it to others to share. At a common meal on the night of Jesus’ resurrection Sunday, the disciples on the road to Emmaus could describe “how he was known to them in the breaking of the bread” (Luke 24:35 ESV). Paul would later add, “And is not the bread that we break a participation in the body of Christ?” (1 Corinthians 10:16). As we gather around the Lord’s Table, we break bread and drink wine. What we share goes way beyond bread and wine. This breaking of bread is a holy moment and a sacred experience. We would do well to pause and think a moment or two about this bread that is broken and why it is broken. This breaking of the bread can be so much more than just symbol, custom, language, and idiom. Something about our brokenness connects deeply to the bread that is broken. We acknowledge our world is tragically broken and enslaved to the power of sin and death. We confess our own brokenness without the gift of God’s grace. We remember the brokenness of Jesus’s body as he faced his torturous route through betrayals, trials, denials, beatings, and crucifixion to the empty tomb. We recognize the brokenness of Jesus’ friends as they saw him die and saw all their dreams shattered. Praise God! All of this brokenness is absorbed and transformed by the Lord’s triumphant victory over hell, sin, and death when he rose from the grave (1 Corinthians 15:56-58). We celebrate this victory as we celebrate The Supper as the earliest Christians did: we take the broken bread on the first day of the week, Sunday, the day of Jesus’ resurrection (Acts 20:7). Brokenness is absorbed in new life, new hope, and the promise of a better day! Yes, our world is still broken and sometimes breaks us and those we love. Yes, sinful people still break our hearts and our hopes. Yes, we can become discouraged in our brokenness and want to give up or even, like Jesus, feel abandoned by God (Mark 15:34). So, we break the bread. We break the bread as more than just a symbol and an idiom we repeat. We break the bread to remind us that this broken bread is for broken people. We break the bread because of the triumphant love of Jesus that allowed himself to be broken by the same mortal humanity we wear. We break bread on the day of his resurrection to remind ourselves that he has triumphed through his brokenness to become our Lord and pioneer (Hebrews 2:10; Hebrews 12:1-2). We break bread to remind us who is welcome at The Table – broken people. The healing in the broken bread is for those who are broken by life’s harshest blows. This healing is also for those broken by their own sinful choices. This healing is powerfully demonstrated in one chapter where we meet three very different people – very broken people. We first meet a Centurion who is a good man. The Centurion deserves Jesus’ favor because of his rank and his character (Luke 7:1-10). His servant is very ill, and he longs for Jesus to speak healing into the servant’s life. Jesus does! We next meet a widow, utterly broken by the death of her son (Luke 7:11-17). She is alone and powerless. So, Jesus raises her son from the dead, and in the beautiful language of Luke, “Jesus gave him back to his mother.” We also meet a woman broken by her life of sin. She intrudes into a meal at a table where Jesus is invited. She comes to share her extravagant love for Jesus who has saved her from her desperate slavery to her brokenness. While others look down on her, Jesus affirms her faith and blesses her with a life of peace (Luke 7:36-50). The bread is broken because this bread, this gift of Jesus’ body we hold, was broken. It was broken so we can know that salvation, grace, healing, and Jesus are reachable in our brokenness (Hebrews 2:14-18; Hebrews 4:14-16). When are broken by fear because of the diseases that afflict those we love, we are welcomed by the broken bread. When we are broken by the loss of a loved one to death, we are welcomed to the table of grace that anticipates the great reunion feast of glory. When we are broken by our sin and its consequences, we are welcomed by Jesus to his table to be forgiven, transformed, and sent back out into the world with his peace. The bread is broken. So are we. Broken people are welcome here – not to wallow in their brokenness, but to rejoice in a Savior who
Sunk by Our Own Desires
What are you chasing that is destructive to you? Recently, I was watching the National Geographic special on the Golden Baboons of Africa’s Luangwa Valley. It was advertised as a tranquil scene of animal drama found nowhere else. However, these baboons and other animals were experiencing violent and fatal struggles every day. A particular scene that did not involve the baboons really gripped me. This scene – or struggle to be more accurate – reminded me of our human predicament as we cast about on our most base and unredeemed instincts and drives. This unexamined approach to living often results in decisions that negatively impact life and can actually cause death – emotionally, spiritually, and even physically. A terrible drought gripped the Luangwa Valley. The rivers and lakes were dry. Only a few mud holes existed. In one of these mud holes, a thirsty and mature water buffalo stepped into quicksand and was trapped in mud that covered all four legs. The water buffalo could not move. Any attempt to move caused the animal to sink hopelessly a bit deeper into the mire. It was an intractable situation for the buffalo. As the buffalo bellowed loudly, his incessant crying alerted the “King of the Beasts.” Three very muscular and hungry lions – one male and two females – laboriously waded through the mud and mounted the fleshy backside of the water buffalo and began to eat him. As they did, they also began to sink in the mire with their prey. Each bite caused their weight to descend a few centimeters and more assuredly brought them closer to their own death. As they dined, one large lioness came to the edge and very cautiously pawed at the mud. She took a few steps into the mud, but the sinking sensation alerted her to back off and leave the self-destructive conquest to the others. She overcame the temptation and overpowering instinctive drive and lived for another day. Meanwhile, the three cats devouring the buffalo eventually sunk to their own deaths in a natural grave of unforgiving mud. This reminds me of our lives. Our greed and addiction for power can, and often, lead us into similar danger. Too often, the prize seems like an easy target. Perhaps it requires a risk to get to that prize. Calculations are necessary. Most often the risks are obvious and not worth the effort. But on other occasions, on we go plunging headlong toward our precious prize. For a few moments, we thump our chests and believe we are the conquerors. We rest on the back of the beasts and help ourselves. Unknowingly, we sink, but the taste is too gratifying and we do not notice our own impending destruction. We continue until we realize all at once that we now have a greater problem and we have gone too far to change the inevitable. Honestly, our blind and ambitious pursuit was not safe to begin with, but we reasoned that it was possible. We could not control our appetites long enough to survey the risks and rewards, the dangers and the potentialities, the rightness and wrongness of our goal. Then all at once, we realize that the devoured beast is no longer worth our attention and effort. We recognize that we have lost our capacity to devour and depart with all the vitality we had acquired. We are not even sure we will survive, stuck in the mire of our own mess. Even if we do survive, others must work our rescue, carry our weight, and cover our losses. We end up damaging the whole pride. We also damage our families. Ultimately, we damage our nation. Really, isn’t it worth the time to think about the best way to pursue our prey … our goals … our achievements? Will we continue to plunge headlong into the muddy slush that snares all of its victims just because we’ve found an easy target? Perhaps, the smart lioness is the best example. Don’t go in there! There are better prospects elsewhere and better things to do. They may not be presented to us as such an easy target or such an easily acquired feast, but they also won’t lead us to be trapped and destroyed by our unrestrained, unexamined, and uncontrolled desires. It is the evil things a person wants that tempt that person. His own evil desire leads him away and holds him. This desire causes sin. Then the sin grows and brings death. (James 1:14-15 ERV) About the author: Jerry is a retired educator and coach. He worked for public schools in Texas and Louisiana for 18 years as a teacher, coach, and administrator. In addition, he also coached at the college level for 22 years at three universities, and worked for the Texas Education Agency almost three years.
Turning our Hearts Back to Egypt?
Are you looking back or straining to what’s ahead? I was reading the Scriptures recently, and God reached out and smacked me in the head and got my attention! No, I don’t mean that literally, but spiritually and emotionally it happened. I was reading about the arrest of Stephen (Acts 6:8-15) and his preaching before the Jewish leaders (Acts 7:1-60). I’ve read this countless times before, but a phrase spoke to me in a way it had never done before. In his sermon, Stephen rehearses the general history of the Jewish nation to make a point that they demonstrated a continual pattern of rejecting God and his prophets. He speaks about Moses, and how the people rejected him. Listen to the words: He was in the assembly in the desert, with the angel who spoke to him on Mount Sinai, and with our fathers; and he received living words to pass on to us. But our fathers refused to obey him. Instead, they rejected him and in their hearts turned back to Egypt (Acts 7:38-39). Now the application I want to make is not necessarily about rejecting God, but about how frequently we find that our hearts have “turned back to Egypt.” I have been guilty of this, and still am to a certain extent, but I’m working on it. Think about one of the ways we can apply this concept. Like many of you, I tend to look to my past and remember “the good old days” and compare them to today. I remember churches where I have worshipped, friendships I have had, works in which I have been involved, and think, “I sure wish I could go back there again” or “I sure wish it could be like that again.” I’ve been guilty of sometimes doing this to the point that I forget my present journey or overlook the opportunities in the place where I am. If we believe that God opens doors and directs steps, then why are we so unhappy with where we are? Why in our hearts do we turn back to Egypt? The Israelites remembered the “leeks and onions” and other good things they experienced in Egypt to the point of forgetting how bad things were for them as slaves there. They rebelled against God and where he was directing their journey. In fact, they rejected the journey, they rejected where they were, and they ended up rejecting God’s instructions, and in that rejected God. Contrast that with the description of the Apostle Paul and his struggle in life: I don’t mean to say that I have already achieved these things or that I have already reached perfection! But I keep working toward that day when I will finally be all that Christ Jesus saved me for and wants me to be. No, dear brothers and sisters, I am still not all I should be, but I am focusing all my energies on this one thing: Forgetting the past and looking forward to what lies ahead, I strain to reach the end of the race and receive the prize for which God, through Christ Jesus, is calling us up to heaven (Philippians 3:12-14). The next time we are tempted to compare the present with the past, might I suggest that we stop ourselves and try to refocus on the present. We have so many blessings, but we also have so much work to do. Let’s focus on making these days “the good old days.” Let’s build relationships and churches and love the way we use to do and stop turning back to Egypt in our hearts. Let us do as Paul did. Let’s forget the past, look forward, and strain to reach the prize God has for us! About the author: Russ Lawson is a former missionary to Africa and minister in Ohio. He now works with World Christian Literature Outreach and writes a weekly email devotional, Messages from the Heart. For more information about Russ, click here.
I Trust in Your Unfailing Love
Can you still hold on to trust? Do these words from David ring true for you today? O Lord, how long will you forget me? Forever? How long will you look the other way? How long must I struggle with anguish in my soul, with sorrow in my heart every day? How long will my enemy have the upper hand? Turn and answer me, O Lord my God! Restore the sparkle to my eyes, or I will die. Don’t let my enemies gloat, saying, ‘We have defeated him!’ Don’t let them rejoice at my downfall. (Psalm 13:1-4 NLT) Are you feeling forgotten by God? Do you find yourself wondering where He is while you are in the midst of battle and struggle and hurt and disappointment? Are you wishing God would do something to help, but not sure your prayers are getting through? That’s apparently what David was feeling. Alone. Forgotten. Ignored. Weak. Almost defeated. Constantly hassled by his enemies. Those are not uncommon feelings, even for the strong of faith. Sometimes life is like that. We experience attacks from all sides, and it seems that trouble and distress is around every corner. During those days of anxiety and sorrow, it is easy to fall into the trap of believing that it will always be this way. We settle into the mindset that life will never get any better. When these times continue for long periods there is the potential to lose hope. Those are dangerous times. Those are times when we must consider our steps very carefully and wisely. Nothing would please our enemy more than for us to lose hope, to give up, to accept defeat, and to lose the joy found in the Lord. Like David, you may be almost there. If so, do what David did. In verse 4, David is dreading how his enemies will gloat and rejoice over his defeat. Then, suddenly, as the psalmist often does in the Psalms, the tone changes. He looks above his fears and throws himself into the arms of the Lord. But I trust in your unfailing love. I will rejoice because you have rescued me. I will sing to the Lord because he is good to me. (Psalm 13:5-6) We must do the same. When we sink low into the despair and hopelessness of what seems certain defeat, we must look up to the Lord and say: But I trust in your unfailing love. I will rejoice because you have rescued me. I will sing to the Lord because he is good to me. That’s the power of our faith. That’s a test of our faith. That’s what can happen when we draw near to God. If we bring it all to Him and leave it there, through His grace and mercy He will enable us to sing again. He will rescue us. Here’s another version of David’s prayer: Lord, my life is hard right now. Nothing is turning out like I thought it would. Instead of victory, I’m experiencing defeat on every side. It seems like the Enemy is winning all the battles. I feel like a loser and I feel like my enemies see me as a loser. I’m not sure how long I can go on like this. Sometimes, when it gets really bad, I become afraid. I feel like You have left me here all alone. But, I know that’s not true, because I trust You. I know You will never leave me. And I believe that one day I will again sing and rejoice because You are good to me. I trust in Your unfailing love. About the author: Tom Norvell is the author of “A Norvell Note” — Thoughts and reflections on God, life, people, and living as a follower of Jesus. He has ministered with followers of Jesus for four decades and loves Jesus, his family, and those seeking Jesus, passionately.
Pollyanna Piety
Is God really going to protect from us from every bad thing? Pain is an important element of reality in this world. It is not only often helpful but is absolutely necessary to human health and well being. How do you know to keep your hands away from an open flame? To wash a grain of sand from your eye? Any physician will tell you that a person whose nerves can’t send pain signals will have serious problems in living a normal life. Yet there is a serious error in some churches, Bible study materials, and personal belief systems when the naïve claim is made that true faith makes one immune to suffering. Really? Then I wonder why it didn’t keep innocent Naboth from being stoned to death when wicked King Ahab decided to seize his land? How could Stephen have been murdered for bearing witness to Jesus? Or Cassie Bernall at Columbine? Or Martin Burnham in the Philippine jungle? God allows suffering, but he is not the one who causes it and sends it into our lives. We experience pain because we live in physical bodies in a contingent world. We suffer psychic pain because we are sensitive to misfortune, loss, and death. And the most horrible wounds that come to our spirits are traceable to our own wrong choices – rebelling against God and hurting one another. Faith is not a vaccine against these things. If it were, everyone would be a Christian for the worst possible reason! It would indulge our selfishness. It would exempt us from the tough things everybody else has to face in this life. More correctly, faith is a relationship with God that provides the daily presence, strength, and encouragement of the Living Christ for whatever comes your way. Are miracles real? Does God still deliver people from their suffering by clear and direct intervention? Certainly. But miracles are by definition rare and out of the ordinary. So I’m suspicious of the person who – especially in front of a camera – offers to make the uncommon and infrequent into on-demand events. The answer Paul was given is surely the more typical reply to suffering people: “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” (2 Corinthians 12:9) Instant peace and easy answers are not God’s promise to you. His pledge is that you will never be unloved and alone. Pray for pain to be a bridge rather than a barrier for you. Never feel obliged to deny its reality or menace. But trust God to provide sufficient grace for each day. And give him the chance to work the world’s worst to a spiritual victory. About the author: Rubel Shelly preached for decades, been a professor of medical ethics, Bible, and philosophy at multiple universities and a med school. He is currently Professor of Philosophy & Religion at Lipscomb University. He is the author of more than 30 books and hundreds of inspirational articles.