Worth Repeating - June 20, 2017

I Corinthians 14: 33, 40 For God is not a God of disorder but of peace . . . everything should be done in a fitting and orderly way.

To clasp hands in prayer is the beginning of an uprising against the disorder of the world.*

While my husband was the city manager, we were invited to a Spanish church for a special prayer service for government officials. They invited us to the front where they gathered around us, laid hands on us and began praying. Out loud. All at once. In Spanish. I was very uncomfortable with this at first – it seemed disorderly to me. But then I thought: even if these people were all praying silently, God would still be hearing them praying all at once. And he would hear them. I believe that courtesy is important in any gathering, but the Bible isn’t specific in regard to culture and tradition and personal preference in a worship service. What I might find to be “over the top” may be a moving spiritual experience for someone else.

Some people seem to thrive on chaos and disorder. Maybe you are one of those people and you don’t even know it! While excess noise and confusion tend to make me feel anxious, I don’t think that Paul is implying that I am more godly than those who flourish in the midst of sensory overload. Perhaps he is not referring to outer orderliness. Whether I label and alphabetize myself into a false sense of tranquility; or whether you revel in life’s clutter, God is the only true source of peace and order in a messy world. When we let him be in charge, things get done in that “fitting and orderly way.”

When it comes to his church, God is more concerned with obedience than organization, and if he had to choose between the two, I suspect he’d prefer faithful saints to functional structures.*

Worth Repeating - June 19, 2017

Colossians 3: 12 Clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience.

Anyone who spends time with the Lord will find it evidenced in his life.*

A uniform identifies you with your employer. You are representing your company when you wear their uniform. The uniform says something about where you work and who you are. Or . . . it could simply be a disguise. Displaying the company logo on your clothes isn’t enough to get you a paycheck. You have to comply with company policy if you want to be a true member of the team.

How well-dressed are we? I knew a girl in college who was so modest that when you knocked on the door of her dorm room, she would not open it until she was fully clothed – including shoes. Sometimes I wear the proper spiritual garments but they’re not totally zipped and buttoned – they’re just draped over me and in danger of exposing me at any moment. I occasionally go about partially clothed, hoping that the wind doesn’t blow!

Perhaps we shouldn’t open the door until we are wearing all of our spiritual clothes: compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. And make sure they are all properly fastened before we do!

I don’t care what lost people wear to church. All I care about is that they are wearing righteousness when they leave.*

Worth Repeating - June 18, 2017

Luke 15: 11–32 Jesus continued: “There was a man who had two sons. The younger one said . . . ‘Father, give me my share of the estate.’ So he divided his property between them. . . . Not long after that, the younger son . . . set off for a distant country and there squandered his wealth in wild living. . . . When he came to his senses . . . he got up and went to his father. . . . Meanwhile, the older son . . . heard music and dancing. So he . . . asked . . . what was going on. ‘Your brother has come . . .’ The older brother became angry and refused to go in. So his father went out and pleaded with him. . . . ‘My son,’ the father said, ‘you are always with me, and everything I have is yours.’”

No man has the right to question or resent the outpouring of God's love in saving . . .  any man, from sin and destruction.*

We are moved by this portrayal of God’s love for his wandering child. Perhaps you can relate to the prodigal child who has come home at last but what are your feelings about the older son? Here is a checklist to help you compare yourself to him: 

1. He stayed home; appeared to be faithful and obedient. When I have strayed from God, I’ve never really gone very far (what that means theologically is another discussion), so perhaps I am more like the older brother. Do my actions hide a rebellious heart? 

2. While the younger son was out wasting their father’s money, his older brother was also living on Daddy’s charity. What God gives to his wandering child takes nothing from what he gives to me. Do I harbor resentment against my brother because I think he’s having more fun than I am? 

3. The older brother knew how sad his father was so why didn’t he go look for his brother? Perhaps he could have helped him or even talked him into coming home. How much do I care about the lost people in the world? 

4. Why did he resent his brother’s homecoming party? I pray that I am not so mean-spirited! 

We must be careful about reading meaning into a parable that Jesus never intended. We might interpret this story as an analogy about our failure to seek the lost but I don’t see that so much. Where is the father’s command to go look for the brother? I will leave it to the experts to excavate the true meaning of this parable. In the meantime, let’s learn from the homebound son’s attitude and behavior. Let us bask in the Father’s love and obey his command to seek and save the lost.

Being lost is never fun.  Being lost and realizing that no one is looking for you is even worse.*

Worth Repeating - June 17, 2017

II Corinthians  12: 9, 10 He said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses. . . . For when I am weak, then I am strong.

Personal weakness provides a great opportunity for God’s strength to come through.*

Often, because we aren’t getting what we asked for, we think God is not answering our prayers. The fact is, God always answers the prayers of his children, but sometimes the answer is “no.” Just look at Paul. If anyone deserves to get what he wants from God, it is the Apostle Paul, God’s faithful, obedient and self-sacrificing servant. 

And what did he ask for that was so bad? He didn’t ask for riches or vengeance on his enemies or for God to interfere in the space/time continuum. He asked for the removal of a “thorn in my flesh.” We never learn the exact nature of his thorn. Most people assume it involved physical suffering. I tend to think it might have been some kind of deformity – something to keep him humble when he looked in a mirror. 

It is interesting that, by his own admission, Paul knew why he suffered from this affliction (“to keep me from becoming conceited”), but he asked to be delivered from it anyway. Perhaps most of us are not in much danger of becoming conceited. Paul’s risk existed because of his visions and revelations from the Lord – things that certainly distinguished him from the rest of the crowd. In refusing to remove Paul’s “thorn,” God also revealed an additional reason for Paul’s adversity: he desired for Paul to learn about the sufficiency of his grace. If things are going too well, even the most faithful of us can forget that we need God. 

When God says his grace is sufficient, it means so much more than “just enough.” It doesn’t even mean “more than enough.” Sufficient is one of those words like pregnant or unique. There are no degrees of sufficient – God can’t make his grace more or less sufficient. It is enough. 

Like Paul, we need to learn to rejoice in our afflictions. When it is clear that our personal strength is inadequate, God’s power is revealed and unleashed on our behalf. That, my friends, is real strength! 

God said he was looking for empty vessels more than strong muscles.*

Worth Repeating - June 16, 2017

Acts 16: 6–10 Paul and his companions traveled throughout the region . . . having been kept by the Holy Spirit from preaching the word in the province of Asia. . . . they tried to enter Bithynia, but the Spirit of Jesus would not allow them to. So they . . . went down to Troas. During the night Paul had a vision of a man of Macedonia . . . begging him, “Come over to Macedonia and help us.” . . . we got ready at once to leave for Macedonia, concluding that God had called us to preach . . . to them.

God is in charge of leadership, the destination, and the way church growth occurs.*

The people in the province of Asia, and in Bithynia and Troas needed to hear the gospel as much as the people of Macedonia. There was no earthly reason for Paul and his team not to go to any of those places. But the doors to these mission fields were closed to them. Their “Macedonian Call” meant that they would trade one fertile field for another.

Modern missionaries sometimes have similar experiences. They have committed themselves to serving the Lord in a particular field, they walk through the doors that are open to them – and find themselves in a closet – a dead end. Perhaps God is only testing their commitment. Perhaps circumstances have changed during their preparation and God needs them elsewhere. Whatever the reason, God’s servants go where his Spirit leads them.

Collections of apparently random events set us on paths we never would have imagined.*

Worth Repeating - June 15, 2017

Mark 1: 35-37 Very early in the morning, while it was still dark, Jesus got up, left the house and went off to a solitary place, where he prayed. Simon and his companions went to look for him, and when they found him, they exclaimed, “Everyone is looking for you!”

Jesus did not try to do it by himself. Why should you?*

Rather than allowing himself to be consumed with meeting people’s needs, Jesus maintained a balance between serving people and spending time with his Father.* He focused on doing the will of his Father and not on what others expected of him.*

I have read that Jesus spent 50% of his time in solitude with his Father. What was he doing? Praying, of course. What was he praying for? Surely he prayed for the lost souls that he was sent to minister to. Did he also pray for strength to resist temptation? What tempted him?  What else was he doing during his time alone with God? Was he preparing his lessons/sermons? Did he just take time to be still and know God?

Time spent in meditation puts us at risk of appearing to be wasting time that could be spent in actual ministry work. The source that claimed Jesus spent 50% of his time in solitude with God also published the following stats: 40% of his time was spent training the twelve apostles (i. e., “discipling”); 10% of his time was spent in active “ministry.” Whether the data is accurate or not, Jesus set an example for us in prioritizing our time. Time spent in communication with the Father is never wasted.

All solitude and no service equals selfishness. Some solitude and some service, however, equals perspective.*

Worth Repeating - June 14, 2017

Psalm 6: 6 I am worn from groaning; all night long I flood my bed with weeping and drench my couch with tears.

I push pain away all day, and the moment I put my arms down it walks into me and has a seat.*

What makes us weep? What can make us cry ourselves to sleep? I have cried tears of frustration over my children. Bitter tears accompanied the implosion of my first marriage. Twice I have lost a job that I loved and I cried buckets of tears. Oh, and my poor broken heart in 9th grade and again in college produced an ocean’s worth of salt water. My tears at funerals have mostly been for myself and for my loss. When I attended the funeral of a young mother of three who died hours after giving birth to her fourth child, I cried for her children and her husband and her mother more than for her – she went to be with her Savior. 

David’s tears as described in this Psalm may have been from shame or for repentance, but mine generally spring from two shallow wells in equal measure: 1) I didn’t get my way; and 2) I don’t trust God enough. Whether our tears flow from deep sources or shallow ones, God cares about our pain. 

I work through my heartaches by writing my prayers – journaling, as some call it. I love the Psalms of David because they remind me of my prayers. “David’s rigorous honesty reveals that journaling is a place to pour out our anguish, think the unthinkable, and presume to know what’s best. In the safe haven of being able to make such outlandish statements, we stumble across our true motives, feelings, and desires.”* Yes, David had some serious issues to deal with – but sometimes he was shallow like me, wanting his own way and forgetting to trust God. And perhaps as David and I “stumble across our true motives,” we are actually being led by God to the very place he wanted us to go. 

The further removed we are from our pain, the less it hurts, and that healing is a good thing. But hold on to the lessons you have learned through your pain so that your suffering will not have been for nothing.

From bitter pain may come great promise, if that pain leads you to God.*