Notes of Faith June 27, 2020

Can homosexuality be more than a sin?

Before I provide the answer to the title of this article, I must first do something that would have been unthinkable 20 years ago: I must prove that homosexuality is a sin. That's how far and fast the center of Christianity has shifted toward a gross degree of apostasy that previously was considered impossible.

Proving homosexuality is a sin is simple. It is condemned as such in both the Old Testament (Leviticus 18:22 & 20:13) and the New Testament (Romans 1:26-27, 1 Corinthians 6:9-11 & 1 Timothy 1:8-11). Read these verses for yourself. They are perfectly clear in their condemnation of homosexuality as a sexual perversion that constitutes a sin against God.

Twisting Scripture

The only way to get around these verses is to play games with them by spiritualizing them to mean something other than what they say. Depraved minds can do that, and so it is done all the time. There are even homosexual churches masquerading as Christian churches that blatantly claim these verses do not mean what they say.

It is one of the only sins identified in the Bible that has an advocacy group in the Church! Another is those professing Christians who advocate the horror of abortion. Advocating the permissibility of homosexuality is, to me, equivalent to arguing that it is okay to commit adultery.

The Christian advocates of homosexuality have even perverted the story of Sodom and Gomorrah (Genesis 19) into meaning that God destroyed the cities, not because of their sexual perversion, but because they were "inhospitable to strangers."

The Worst Defense

And then there is the pathetic defense made by some Christian defenders of homosexuality that goes like this: "God made them that way, so it must be okay."

Wake up folks! All of us have been born with a sin nature which is manifested in various ways. Are we to excuse "natural-born adulterers" or "natural-born thieves or liars"? Of course not. We are to call them to repentance and abandonment of their sin. We are not to encourage it.

Churches today that are accepting homosexuals into their fellowship without requiring repentance of their sin, and who are ordaining homosexuals as clergy without demanding repentance and abstinence, are operating in open rebellion against God — thumbing their nose at Him and His Word. These are churches that have sold out to the world, seeking the acceptance of society over the approval of God.

Addressing the Title

Let's now get to the title of this article: How can homosexuality be more than a sin? Again, the answer is simple: Homosexuality can be a judgment of God.

Romans chapter one makes this very clear. The chapter states that when a nation as a whole sets its jaw against God and His Word and refuses to repent, God will step back, lower His hedge of protection and allow evil to multiply. It's what theologians call "abandonment wrath."

To explain it another way, when a society makes it clear to God that they have no interest in abiding by His Word, He will step back and abandon them to their desires. Basically, this happens when God responds to unrepentant sin by saying, "If you want to live in a fouled nest, then so be it."

The book of Romans says the first stage of this abandonment by God will be characterized by the outbreak of a sexual revolution (Romans 1:24-25), which is exactly what happened in this country in the 1960s.

The passage then says if rebellion continues, God will step back a second time, lowering His hedge of protection again, and a plague of homosexuality will descend upon the nation (Romans 1:26-27). Again, that is exactly what happened in our nation, beginning in the 1980s and 90s.

If there is still no repentance, then God will step back a third time and turn the nation over to a "depraved mind" (Romans 1:28). That is where we are today.

The Sexual Perversion Movement in our nation has achieved the legalization of homosexuality, same-sex marriage and transgenderism. But that is not enough. It is now demanding the legalization of polygamy, pedophilia and prostitution. There is no satisfying the movement's appetite for depravity.

So, there is definitely a point in a nation's rebellion against God when homosexuality ceases to be just a sin. It becomes a judgment of God. And those Christians who have given their approval to homosexuality are literally spitting in God's face.

The Grace of God

What makes it so sad is that God, in His amazing grace, is willing to forgive and forget the sin of homosexuality for any person in bondage to it who will repent and receive Jesus as their Lord and Savior. Further, once having done that, the Holy Spirit will provide the person with the spiritual power to abstain from the sin and become an overcomer.

In 1 Corinthians 6:9-11, God identifies homosexuals as part of a group of "the unrighteous" who will not inherit the kingdom of God. But then, the Apostle Paul declares: "Such were some of you; but you were washed, but you were sanctified, but you were justified in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and in the Spirit of our God."

Praise the Lord for His love and grace!

 More than just a note about homosexuality, this is a warning about the judgment of God when we rebel against Him, say we don’t need Him, even saying He doesn’t exist.  Judgment is sure to fall.  Is this country tail-spinning toward impending judgment?  I think so! But you, stand firm in the truth and pray for the kingdom of God to come to earth as it is in heaven.  Satan is the prince and power currently over this land. . . but Jesus is coming again to claim what belongs to Him.  Come quickly, Lord Jesus!

Pastor Dale

Notes of Faith June 26, 2020

I hate delays. I do everything I can to avoid them. I stay away from certain streets, airports, and the freeway during high-traffic hours because I hate delays. I don’t think I’m alone in this; so much of the technology of our modern world is built around eliminating delays wherever we find them. From our perspective, things that slow us down and waste our time seem to have no real purpose but to hassle us and cause headaches.

But we have a problem, because God does not hate delays. He uses them frequently on our journey.

The three-mile walk to which He calls us is full of delays, and there is no app to help us avoid them. A delay is a gap between the moment when God awakens dreams, speaks promises, calls you to an assignment, or hears your prayers and the moment when those things become reality. Every time we set out to engage what God has called us to be and to do, delay is part of the journey, for a reason. The way we respond to delay plays a critical role in shaping success or failure on this journey.

High Stakes

The Bible gives us many examples of the different ways people respond to delay. Some people did not respond well, and the results are pretty sobering. Consider the story of Aaron and the golden calf.

When the people saw that Moses delayed coming down from the mountain, the people gathered together to Aaron, and said to him, “Come, make us gods that shall go before us; for as for this Moses, the man who brought us up out of the land of Egypt, we do not know what has become of him.”

And Aaron said to them, “Break off the golden earrings which are in the ears of your wives, your sons, and your daughters, and bring them to me .” So all the people broke off the golden earrings which were in their ears, and brought them to Aaron . And he received the gold from their hand, and he fashioned it with an engraving tool, and made a molded calf.

Then they said, “This is your god, O Israel, that brought you out of the land of Egypt!” 

So when Aaron saw it, he built an altar before it. And Aaron made a proclamation and said, “Tomorrow is a feast to the Lord .”
— EXODUS 32:1–5 NKJV

In the delay, Aaron led the children of Israel into idolatry. If Moses hadn’t been there to intercede, they wouldn’t have lived to see another day. Though Moses managed to help them clean up that particular mess with God, their motives for mishandling the delay remained unchanged. They continued to complain and rebel until God declared that they were disqualified from entering the promised land. That generation never fulfilled their call; they died in the desert.

Then there’s the story of Saul making sacrifices without Samuel. He did this after learning that the Philistines had amassed their army of six thousand charioteers and uncountable soldiers. With his soldiers trembling with fear, Saul managed to hold them together with Samuel’s promise that he would come in seven days to make the required sacrifices to bless the army and inquire of the Lord as to what their strategy should be. When the seven days passed and Samuel didn’t come, however, Saul’s men began to scat- ter. In this delay, Saul became desperate, took matters into his own hands, and made the sacrifices. No sooner had he finished the job than Samuel arrived to tell Saul the serious consequences of his presumption. 

Samuel said to Saul, ‘You have done foolishly. You have not kept the commandment of the Lord your God, which He commanded you. For now the Lord would have established your kingdom over Israel forever. But now your kingdom shall not continue. The Lord has sought for Himself a man after His own heart, and the Lord has commanded him to be commander over His people, because you have not kept what the Lord commanded you’. — 1 Samuel 13:13–14 NKJV

In the delay, Saul fell into disobedience, and the cost was severe: he lost his royal dynasty. The calling of every king was to establish their reign and a royal lineage. By mishandling the delay, Saul disqualified himself from fulfilling that call.

In contrast to Bible stories like Aaron’s and Saul’s are stories like David’s. The man after God’s own heart experienced a thirteen-year delay between being anointed king and ascending to the throne. During that time, David had many opportunities to take his call and destiny into his own hands, but every time he refused. As a result, God established his royal dynasty eternally, even choosing to bring His own Son to earth through David’s line.

These stories show us that there are high stakes connected to how we handle delays. In the cases of Aaron, Saul, and David, these stakes were extreme, as they were all leaders whose decisions affected millions of people. But the test in all three situations was the same. Aaron and Saul found themselves surrounded by terrified people pressuring them to act, and they caved to the fear of man. David likewise was pressured by his men to take Saul’s life when he had the chance, but he feared God more than man and didn’t give in. No matter who we are, this is the test we will face in the delay: either to take matters into our own hands and try to make our call happen according to our strength, our way, and our timing or to stay in a place of trust and surrender and allow God to lead us in His plan for fulfilling our call.

In the delay, we see what’s in our hearts.

Do we fear man or God? Will we trust ourselves or God? Do we have to be in control, or do we want God to be in control? Only in the delay do these things rise to the surface so we can deal with them and make powerful choices to align our hearts with God’s heart for us.

Lazarus and Divine Delay

One of the most powerful biblical examples of a divine delay is the story of Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead.

Lazarus and his sisters, Mary and Martha, were some of Jesus’ closest friends and disciples. They had seen Jesus heal and do amazing miracles. When Lazarus became ill, Mary and Martha sent word to Jesus, fully believing that He would come and heal their brother without delay. John’s account emphasizes that Jesus loved these people. 

Now a man named Lazarus was sick. He was from Bethany, the village of Mary and her sister Martha… So the sisters sent word to Jesus, ‘Lord, the one You love is sick.’ When he heard this, Jesus said, ‘This sickness will not end in death. No, it is for God’s glory so that God’s Son may be glorified through it.’ Now Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus. — John 11:1, John 11:3–5

What Jesus did next, however, made no sense to anyone.
So when He heard that Lazarus was sick, He stayed where He was two more days. — John 11:6

During that delay, Lazarus died. It is clear that Jesus intentionally delayed two days. Sometimes we think that every season of delay in our lives is an attack of the enemy, not realizing that Jesus may be involved in the delay. By the time Jesus arrived in Bethany, Lazarus had already been in the tomb for four days. Everyone was confused. His disciples wondered if this was the end of the road for Jesus and they would all soon be dying too (John 11:16). Martha and Mary each ran out to meet Jesus, saying, 

Lord, if You had been here, my brother would not have died.
— John 11:21, John 11:32 NKJV

And the onlookers at the tomb were asking, 

Could not He who opened the eyes of the blind man have kept this man from dying?
 — John 11:37

You can practically hear the thoughts and questions behind these responses. We thought we knew You, Jesus. We thought You cared. We thought You were all-powerful. We thought You would have the same urgency to fix this problem and want the same outcome. But Your delay is making us question all that. What You let happen in the delay is making us wonder: Do You care? Are You powerful? Why would You let this happen?

When God does not seem to share our urgency about a situation, we so quickly start to question His character.

I’ve encountered this in my kids. When they are ready and want to leave for school in the morning and I am not in the car yet, they get frustrated. If my urgency to get them out the door on time does not seem to match theirs, my kids react as if I don’t care about them. What they are experiencing as a lack of urgency and delay on my part is my seasoned knowledge of exactly how much time I need to take them to school and my lack of worry that anything will happen to make us late. Seasons of delay expose just how easily we move to doubting God because His timing is not our timing. In a delay, truths that seemed so unshakable to us suddenly seem questionable. Is God really good? Does He care? Can’t He fix this? Why is He letting this happen?

John’s account shows us how Jesus answers the unspoken Don’t You care? and Are You powerful? questions. First, we see that Jesus is anything but cold, disconnected, or unaffected by the prayers of those He loves. John tells us that Jesus was “deeply moved” and wept as He witnessed the mourners at the tomb of Lazarus (John 11:33, John 11:35, John 11:38). He cared, much more than anyone present could possibly comprehend. And when He called Lazarus from the tomb, they all saw that He was far more powerful than they had imagined. His heart of love for them, and His ability to fix the problem, became obvious and undeniable. I need you to hear this. You may be in the midst of a season of delay, and you believe God doesn’t care about you or your situation. Nothing could be farther from the truth. God sees you and cares deeply about the things that are in your heart.

Then there was the unspoken question, Why? This is a question we will all ask in delays. We think we need an explanation, a reason for what is happening. And Jesus repeatedly answers this question. 

He told [His disciples] plainly, “Lazarus is dead, and for your sake I am glad I was not there,
so that you may believe. But let us go to him.”
— John 11:14–15 (emphasis added)

Jesus said to her, “Your brother will rise again.”
Martha answered, “I know he will rise again in the resurrection at the last day.”

Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life.

The one who believes in me will live, even though they die; and whoever lives by believing in me will never die. Do you believe this?” 

“Yes, Lord,” she replied, “I believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, who is to come into the world.”  — John 11:23–27 (emphasis added)

Jesus said, “Did I not tell you that if you believe, you will see the glory of God?” 

So they took away the stone. Then Jesus looked up and said, “Father, I thank You that You have heard me. I knew that You always hear me, but I said this for the benefit of the people standing here, that they may believe that You sent Me.”  — John 11:40–42 (emphasis added)

This was the why of Jesus’ delay: “that they may believe.” Jesus was trying to get them to a place of greater faith. When someone they loved was sick unto death, would they still believe in Jesus, the Healer, the one who not only heals but raises the dead? It’s the same why He gives to us in our delays. When things are taking longer or not turning out the way we thought they would, Jesus’ answer to our Why? is Trust me. In the delay, Jesus is after our trust.

Excerpted from The Three-Mile Walk by Banning Liebscher, copyright Banning Liebscher.
How are you with delays? What do you think about God when He doesn’t keep your expected timetable? Do you trust Him? Can you trust Him in the wait?

Pastor Dale

Notes of Faith June 25, 2020

The answer to our whys may be obvious now, or they may never be answered in our lifetime. But even if we knew why, it’s likely we wouldn’t be satisfied with the answers anyway.

We ask God why, believing the answer will provide us with some kind of deep soul satisfaction. But too often, we don’t get the answer we want. I don’t think that means we should give up asking questions; we just need to understand their role in our brokenness. Questions can be a great help in mourning our loss, communicating our frustration, and expressing our feelings.

We belong to an almighty, transcendent, yet approachable God who loves hearing our questions.

Our questions are important to Him, and the Scriptures are full of hurting people asking questions. Look at the Psalms. David wrote many of them when he was broken; and, in them, he poured out some painful and intimate questions. Sometimes David got answers. Sometimes he got silence. But even when David’s questions weren’t answered, his faith in God was stronger than his need to know.

Just like David, my why questions allow me to go before my heavenly Father and pour out my heart to Him. They help me process what I am going through.

What are some of your why questions? Have you ever talked to God about them? I want you to take a minute and get a pen and piece of paper. Then I want you to write down all your why questions. Start with “Why did this happen?” or “Why me?” Then get more specific. Try to remember each of those why questions that kept you awake at night. For some of you, it may be a single why question that has plagued you for years. For others, it may be a long list of whys that have changed as often as your circumstances. Don’t try to answer them until you have exhausted your list of questions.

But stop and do it now. I’ll wait right here until you get back.

Did you make a list? How did it feel to write down your why questions? Was it a relief, or did it make you angry to put your whys on paper? Were your why questions answered? Or did most of your questions go unanswered? Yeah, me too.

It’s important to know that nowhere does the Bible promise that all our questions will be answered this side of heaven.

God doesn’t promise our stories will make sense in and of themselves. But He does promise they will find their greater purpose in light of His greater story of redemption.

If I am honest, I find that as I look at my list, there is a sense of peace that comes from owning my own why questions. But at the same time, I’ve discovered that the longer I focus on why, the less progress I make. When I continue to ask why, somewhere deep inside me the repeated questioning and lack of answers feeds a sense of entitlement. When that sense of entitlement grows, it usually leads to bitterness.

But there is an alternative. The disciples asked, “Why was this man born blind?” In this question, they were asking why for all of us. But in His answer, Jesus didn’t respond directly to the why. Instead, He changed the why question to how.

Neither this man nor his parents sinned, said Jesus, but this happened so that the works of God might be displayed in him. — John 9:3

How might this man’s blindness be used to reveal the work of God? Just as surely as He turned water into wine, Jesus turned the disciples’ blame-seeking why question into a God-seeking how question.

Man asks why. Jesus asks how. Man asks, “Why did this happen?” Jesus asks, “How might My Father’s glory be displayed through this situation?”

The answer to why doesn’t help us heal. But knowing that God’s glory can be displayed, even in the brokenness of our lives, gives us hope despite our circumstances. I promise you will find more purpose and joy in your life if you set aside the why and begin to ask how.

How does my story fit into God’s greater story of redemption? Even when we can’t immediately see how our story fits into God’s story of redemption, Scripture promises that it always does.

In the Bible, I see a picture of all things working together for good — a good that, frankly, I sometimes don’t understand. Somehow God mourns the death of a three-year-old, yet he also uses that sweet baby’s death to bring glory to Himself. If you don’t understand how He can do both, well, join the club. I don’t know either. But that’s because I am looking at it from my perspective. Without seeing from God’s perspective, I can’t answer how that story or any other story, including mine, fits into His overall story. But the Bible does reveal to us that sometimes God uses things He hates — things like cancer, divorce, suicide, addiction, death, and more — to accomplish the things He loves. He does this regularly and faithfully. It’s only when we bring our pain to Him that we can find our dwelling in Him. However, when we play the blame game, we’re focusing on everyone but Him.

If you made a list of why questions before, I want you to turn that page over and make a new list. A list of how questions. Maybe you’ve never thought of how God could use what you’re going through for His glory. Maybe this is new to you. If so, let me help get you started by giving you a few questions:

How might God use your current trial to glorify Himself? How might God use your weakness, infirmity, or disability to display His power? How might God use your hard circumstances to show you something about Himself? How might God use your hard circumstances to show you something about yourself? How might God use your pain for a purpose? How might God make this mess into a message? How might God use your current chaos to make you into a man or woman who walks by faith, not by sight? How might God use your situation to show you that true peace is found only in Him? How might God use an untimely death to stir the hearts of others and show them the importance of eternal security in the life to come?

Take a moment and ask God for wisdom in writing your own how list. Refer back to your why questions for inspiration if necessary, but know that your questions and answers may be incomplete or even unsatisfying.

Now look over your why list and your how list. Which questions have more answers? Which answers do you have more control over? Does one side of the sheet bring more meaning and purpose to your broken story? Some of you can’t even think about how yet, and that’s okay. Stay in why as long as you need to. But when you get to a place or time when you feel that your why questions are unproductive, try coming back to this and listing your how questions. I’m not saying you’re more spiritual if you get to how, but I am saying that the why questions will eventually suck you dry, slowly draining the life out of you.

I know this from talking to and observing those who are stuck in the past. They can’t understand why a good, holy God has allowed something bad to happen to them. What I want to gently tell them is that God doesn’t owe us an explanation this side of heaven. There’s nothing in Scripture that tells us we’re entitled to an answer. It’s not that God is secretive and doesn’t want us to know; it’s that we’re incapable of seeing the big picture. You can sit around and ask, Why me? for the rest of your life, and no one can do much about it.

In fact, after hearing some of the stories I’ve heard, I want to say, “I get it. If your story happened to me, I might want to go sit in a closet and be bitter at God, too, because that one’s a doozy!” But I also know that staying stuck in the why, or worse, running away from God, only brings more pain and sorrow. You have to run to Him. You have to believe His promises in the midst of your hard situation because not only is that the only thing that will bring you hope, it’s the only thing that will save your life.

When people go through the kind of heartache you or someone you know is going through, the only other response is to slip away into isolation and wait until the evil one eats you alive. We have to come to a point where we say, “I don’t know why my life looks this way. But I don’t have to understand why. It’s enough for me to believe that God has a plan and that He has promised He will never leave or forsake me, and He will be by my side through every trial I face.”

I know this counters everything we think we want, but there is freedom in not having all of the answers — especially the answer to why.

Our faithful and compassionate God allows us to ask any question we want no matter how difficult. Don’t lose another day of your life asking unproductive why questions. When the time is right, move forward by asking how.

God is good. He knows what, with His help, we can handle and where we most need to see His work. It’s easy to sign up for a short-term mission project or donate money to a building campaign at church. And it’s true; we can see God working in those places. But would you be willing to sign up for the brokenness in your life, if you knew your brokenness would bring glory to God and enable you to learn to trust Him in everything? We’re tempted to measure our circumstances on the world’s scale, but God’s economy uses God-sized scales. His story is so much bigger than ours, and one day when we see it in totality, we’ll have all the answers we desire.

Myth: Contentment begins with understanding why.

Truth: Contentment begins with asking how God might use this for His glory.

Excerpted from When God Doesn’t Fix It by Laura Story, copyright Thomas Nelson.

 Have you been plagued by why questions? A dear family member was born with physical or psychological disorders — Why, Lord? A plane goes down with children aboard — Why, Father? A loved one passes away suddenly — Why, God? Today, let’s take our why questions and start asking how. How can these hard things, atrocities, sufferings, illnesses, divorces, and heartbreaks be used to show God’s glory? How, Lord?

 Pastor Dale

Notes of Faith June 24, 2020

Notes of Faith June 24, 2020

Layne McKeel, a senior adult, ventured out of his house during the coronavirus pandemic to get a few supplies at his local grocery store in Georgetown, Tennessee. He’d been shut in for some time, but his disability check had arrived and he needed some food and staples. When he reached the check-out counter, his bill was $173. As he counted out his money he was surprised to find himself thirty-three dollars short. Maybe you’ve had a similar experience. It’s an embarrassing moment.

McKeel quickly began grabbing things to put back on the shelf, but the seventeen-year-old cashier stopped him. Her name was iconic — Elizabeth Taylor. Reaching for her purse, the teenager paid McKeel’s total bill out of her own money.

When someone asked her why she did it, Taylor said, “It was all essential stuff… We’ve seen a lot of older people, and they’re all trying to buy groceries and a lot of places have run out of stuff, and so the older people are kind of taking the downfall for that. I just try to give back when I can.”1

Life often catches us short. It’s embarrassing to find ourselves needing help, but we all need all the help we can get, especially in times of crisis. We all need grace — grace that’s more than sufficient.

So many of the psalms are written for pilgrims needing help on the path of life. As we read Psalm 121, we can hear the psalmist crying out,

Lord, I need supplies for my journey. I need help. I need guidance. I’ve lost my way. Can’t You show me the right way to go? Can’t You meet my needs?

In this beautiful psalm of just eight verses, we’re encouraged to trust God even when life gives us what we haven’t asked for. The confidence expressed in Psalm 121 is rooted in the grandeur of the psalmist’s vision of God — the Maker of Heaven and earth, the Lord who can be trusted to help us at every point along the journey, through the sunny passages as well as the darker treks through forests of night. The psalmist lifts his eyes to the hills above and sees the One who is not only the destination of the journey, but also the strength for every step of it.

In spite of all the perils we encounter, the mountainous crags and the desert wastelands, we can trust the Lord. Yes, He is awesome and we feel small and insignificant, but the psalmist assures us that God bridges the gap. He is never too great to care; we are never too small for His caring. The psalm reflects on a God who soothes us in our anxiety and watches over us as a shepherd with his sheep.

As you hold your Bible open to this wonderful chapter, you find these important words in superscription: “A Song of Ascents.” What does that mean?

There are fifteen of these special psalms, the first of them being Psalm 120. In those ancient days, the Israelites would travel to Jerusalem for feast days at the temple. Coming from whatever distant town they called home, the pilgrims would make the long journey by foot, walking with their families and friends and enjoying their holiday travel. They were eager for good times in the Holy City, seeing friends again over the feast and making sacrifices to God. Scholars believe the songs of ascents were written to be sung along the road from the lowlands of Palestine up to Jerusalem.

As the travelers walked up that natural incline, the uphill trek to Jerusalem, they’d sing another of these joyful psalms at each new level. In fact, if you read them in order, you can almost see the stages of the journey, moving onward and upward toward the temple, where the people would arrive for the worship of God. These psalms are the music of the uphill journey.

We’ve seen something of the historical context. But of course these psalms are alive, not limited to ancient history. For us today, the pilgrimage songs become metaphors for our own spiritual journey. Though we don’t often attend sacred feasts in Jerusalem, the road we walk takes us from the lowlands of our present circumstances to the higher place to which God has called us. The songs of ascents contain essential truths for our journey through this life, as we make our way to be with God for eternity. We can quickly grasp their symbolism and find deep encouragement in these little songs.

The Possibilities for Help on Our Journey

The Bible never lies to us by claiming that life is easy. Christianity is no free pass; there are no shortcuts to bypass the essential human experience. But somehow people get that mistaken idea, and when they eventually face trouble — as they always do — they come to the irrational conclusion that the presence of trouble implies the absence of God. A greater mistake cannot be imagined.

God’s Word reminds us that we are pilgrims and strangers in a foreign land whose roads are filled with hazards. The road is long, weary, and dangerous. It winds through veils of tears and acres of muck and mire; but the long and winding road finally comes to the City of God, the place of joy and feasting. Simply stated, that’s the biblical view of life in the world.

So where can we go to find traveler’s assistance?

We Can Look Around for Help

The psalmist says, “I will lift up my eyes to the hills” (Psalm 121:1). He has prepared for his journey through the mountains to Jerusalem. As he enters the road, he takes a moment to gaze up to the horizon. He thinks of the miles ahead, the twists and turns and surprises, the old friends and new ones whose acquaintances he will make. He thinks of the dust and the heat, the darkness and the thirsty miles. He admires the graceful line where the mountains embrace the sky.

I’ve always been intrigued by the prominence of mountains in the Bible. Many great things happened on mountaintops: the sacrifice of Isaac on Mount Moriah, the giving of the Law on Mount Sinai, the transfiguration of Christ, the message on Mount Olivet, Elijah’s prophetic showdown on Mount Carmel — and, of course, all of history turns on a crucifixion one dark Friday on Mount Calvary. Climactic moments in the biblical narrative always seem to seek higher ground.

You may not live anywhere near the mountains, and you may even prefer the beach as a vacation destination. I must confess that I’m a “mountain man” at heart. I boast with pride to all my friends around the country that I’m twenty minutes away from the mountains and twenty minutes away from the ocean. On a couple of occasions, as I’m quick to point out, I’ve partaken of sea and slope in the same day! Some of us like to show off, you see. I know people who water-ski and snow ski on the same day, just for bragging purposes to impress their friends back east.

But there’s something grand and majestic about mountains. They set the landscape and the people in context. Nothing calms my spirit or helps me to get things in perspective more effectively than a visit to the highest hills. I drive up into the Laguna Mountains and find a special place where I can survey the natural grandeur and reflect on my Creator. If I’ve lost Him in the confinement of the city, I can find Him in the immensity of the peaks. Something about the majesty of mountains invokes the majesty of God.

That happens in the Scriptures too. Listen to Isaiah 55:12: 

For you shall go out with joy, and be led out with peace; the mountains and the hills shall break forth into singing before you.

Psalm 125:1–2 captures the same idea: 

Those who trust in the Lord are like Mount Zion, which cannot be moved, but abides forever. As the mountains surround Jerusalem, so the Lord surrounds His people from this time forth and forever.

There are many passages in the Old Testament that describe the mountains as a place of blessing, but we know all too well that mountains can also be a place of danger. Rarely does a winter go by that we don’t hear of someone being lost in the mountain terrain. The snow cover cuts off the navigation of outdoorsmen, who cannot retrace their steps out of the wilderness.

In ancient times, mountains were sites of danger and hardship. Their rocks and caves hid wild animals and blood- thirsty bandits. Pagan cultures built their temples in the mountains. Godly pilgrims found a sense of majesty in the high country, but they also found a sense of danger and a fear of the unknown. It was a place of fear and of hope, of danger and of salvation. The Lord God could be sought there, but pagan gods were enshrined there as well.

The psalmist must have thought of these things, reflecting on the many meanings of mountains. He gazed upward at the outset of the journey and said, “I will look to the hills.”
John Kramer, “Visiting Zahara de la Sierra, Andalucia,” Spain-Holiday.com, June 28, 2018

Excerpted from Shelter in God  by Dr. David Jeremiah, copyright 2020 David P. Jeremiah.

When you are in a time of trouble, perhaps even now, where do you look? Do you look to the mountains? Where do you find God?

Your Bible and prayer would be a good start as well as those trips outside that lead anywhere in His creation!

Pastor Dale

Notes of Faith June 23, 2020

Notes of Faith June 23, 2020

Immediately the boy’s father cried out and said, “I do believe; help my unbelief. — Mark 9:24

My thirteen-year-old son, Mason, was in the ICU. It wasn’t the first time, but it was definitely the worst. This time he wasn’t waking up. The doctors were keeping him sedated so he could tolerate the breathing tube. The pressure from the massive hemorrhage in his brain tumor might have affected his brain stem which signals the heart to beat and lungs to breathe. I rested my hand on his chest, feeling the inhales and exhales at precise mechanical intervals, which was reassuring, strange, and terrifying all at the same time.

That Friday night my husband was home with our other two children. Pastor Veronica had braved commute traffic to visit. She greeted Mason warmly with the eyes of a mother, no pity, just affection for the friendly boy she’d confirmed just a few months before. We left Mason’s room so we wouldn’t bother the nurses as they were changing shifts and began walking the halls of the empty hospital.

“How are you holding up?” she asked.

Normally I’d want to impress her, making her think I was one of her better congregants, confident in God’s grace. But in this moment I am too tired to pretend to be more spiritually evolved than I am. I can be a spiritual know-it-all. This isn’t about egoism, just the opposite. It comes from needing to prove to everyone, and myself, just how good and worthy I am. It’s also another way to avoid asking for help – even when I really need it. I know! isn’t exactly an opening, even for God. But this day, I told Veronica the truth. I missed my other kids but I couldn’t stand to be away from Mason.  I’d lost count of how many days he’d been in the ICU. It was too long.

“I pray all the time,” I said. “but Mason isn’t getting better.”

I whispered that last part, as if speaking it too loud would make it mean something. No matter how much I pleaded and prayed, nothing changed. Mason’s vital signs spiked irregularly on the bedside monitor.  Another silent afternoon passed sitting beside my still, far away son. My faith felt worn out, threadbare.

“There’s this story in the Bible of a man who brought his son to Jesus for healing. He said, “I believe; help my unbelief.” Veronica said. “Invite God in, right where you are.”

I was trying so hard. I believed that Mason would survive, that this coma-like condition was more of a vacation than a graduation. I tried to protect him with my positive thoughts, but I also heard the concern in friends’ voices. I prayed, but I didn’t feel less afraid.

“You can bring your unbelief to God.” Veronica said kindly.

My unbelief felt like a chasm, a pit whirling with gravity, pulling me toward the unimaginable. I was afraid to surrender to whatever came next — in case that meant my son might not wake up. I was hanging on so tightly not just for me, but for Mason. I had to believe for both of us. But my muscles ached and quivered. I was afraid to let go because where would I fall?

Like other mothers, I just want my kids to be okay. And it’s reassuring to have a plan. But what happens when normal morphs into something unrecognizable? My unbelief tells me I’m not strong enough. I can’t imagine a path forward with my finite human mind. But this is where infinite God comes in.

“I believe, help my unbelief,” became my mantra. Weeks passed. Mason eventually woke up. I suppose I did too.

I don’t have perfect faith, but neither did the father in the story. Two verses back he asks Jesus if he can help his son. I can see Jesus raise an eyebrow (that precise arch he got from Mary) as he responds. “If you can believe, all things are possible to him who believes.” That’s when the father utters those words — the path forward — a truth so profound it still registers two thousand years later, “Help my unbelief.” He didn’t pretend or try harder. The depth of his love is apparent in his surrender. Please, help.

I brace against the unknown and uncertain. My unbelief is as much a part of me as my belief, but God can work with this. I just need to ask for help, again and again. My reflex is to control and fix, attempting to force problems into solutions that fit my human brain. Problems arise when I’m so distracted fighting against what is that I don’t notice the grace that’s being revealed in that very moment.

Prayer isn’t about controlling my circumstances. It’s about accessing the strength and love I need to get through anything. Thinking back to that time when our lives jumped off the track of so-called normal and predictable, I gripped so tightly because I was holding out for a miracle I could recognize. Mason is twenty-two now. He is funny and wise. He still struggles, and I do too. Some days feel too long and too hard. I fear I’m not up for the task, but that doesn’t matter. All I have to do is invite God in, and gently open my hands to offer both my belief and my doubt.

I believe (l can accept and work with what is; God is here); help my unbelief (my resistance to what is; doubt regarding my ability to access God’s ever-present strength and love).

Written for Devotionals Daily by Janine Reid, author of The Opposite of Certainty.

You can bring your unbelief to God. He can work with threadbare faith, exhaustion, aching muscles, and quivering hope. Jesus is the place to go with your fears, doubts, and desperate prayers.

Pastor Dale

Notes of Faith June 22, 2020

He has filled them with skill. — Exodus 35:35 JB

You were born prepacked. God looked at your entire life, determined your assignment, and gave you the tools to do the job.

Before traveling, you do something similar. You consider the demands of the journey and pack accordingly. Cold weather? Bring a jacket. Business meeting? Carry the laptop. Time with grandchildren? Better take some sneakers and pain medication.

God did the same with you. Joe will research animals… install curiosity. Meagan will lead a private school… add an extra dose of management. I need Eric to comfort the sick… include a healthy share of compassion. Denalyn will marry Max… instill a double portion of patience.
 

Each of us is an original. — Galatians 5:26 MSG

God packed you on purpose for a purpose. Is this news to you? If so, you may be living out of the wrong bag.

I once grabbed the wrong bag at the airport. The luggage looked like mine. Same size. Same material. Same color. Thrilled that it had emerged early from the baggage catacombs, I yanked it off the carousel and headed to the hotel. One glance inside, however, and I knew I’d made a mistake.

Wrong size, style, and gender. (Besides, my pants would be too short with stiletto heels.)

What would you do in such a case? You could make do with what you have. Cram your body into the tight clothes, deck out in other-gender jewelry, and head out for your appointments. But would you? Only at risk of job loss and jail time.

No, you’d hunt down your own bag. Issue an all-points bulletin. Call the airport. Call the airlines. The taxi service. The FBI. Hire bloodhounds and private investigators. You’d try every possible way to find the person who can’t find her suitcase and is wondering what gooney bird failed to check the nametag.

No one wants to live out of someone else’s bag.

Then why do we? Odds are, someone has urged a force fit into clothes not packed for you.

Parents do. The dad puts an arm around his young son. “Your great-granddad was a farmer. Your granddad was a farmer. I’m a farmer. And you, my son, will someday inherit the farm.”

A teacher might. She warns the young girl who wants to be a stay-at-home mom, “Don’t squander your skills. With your gifts you could make it to the top. The professional world is the way to go.”

Church leaders assign luggage from the pulpit. “God seeks world-changing, globetrotting missionaries. Jesus was a missionary. Do you want to please your Maker? Follow Him into the holy vocation. Spend your life on foreign soil.”

Sound counsel or poor advice? That depends on what God packed in the person’s bag.

A bequeathed farm blesses the individualist and physically active. But what if God fashioned the farmer’s son with a passion for literature or medicine? Work outside the home might be a great choice for some, but what if God gave the girl a singular passion for kids and homemaking?

Those wired to learn languages and blaze trails should listen up to sermons promoting missionary service. But if foreign cultures frustrate you while predictability invigorates you, would you be happy as a missionary? No, but you would contribute to these mind-numbing statistics:
 

Unhappiness on the job affects one-fourth of the American work force.1

 One-fourth of employees view their jobs as the number one stressor in their lives.2

 Seven out of ten people are neither motivated nor competent to perform the basics of their job.3

 Forty-three percent of employees feel anger toward their employers often or very often as a result of feeling overworked.4

Feel the force of these figures. You wonder why work-bound commuters seem so cranky? “Fully 70 percent of us go to work without much enthusiasm or passion.”5

Most wage earners spend forty of their eighty waking weekday hours trudging through the streets of Dullsville.

Such misery can’t help but sour families, populate bars, and pay the salaries of therapists. If 70 percent of us dread Mondays, dream of Fridays, and slug through the rest of the week, won’t our relationships suffer? Won’t our work suffer? Won’t our health suffer?

One study states, “Problems at work are more strongly associated with health complaints than any other life stressor — more so than even financial problems or family problems.”6

Such numbers qualify as an epidemic. An epidemic of commonness. Someone sucked the sparkle out of our days. A stale fog has settled over our society. Week after week of energy-sapping sameness. Walls painted gray with routine. Commuters dragging their dread to the office. Buildings packed with people working to live rather than living to work. Boredom. Mediocre performance.

The cure?

God’s prescription begins with unpacking your bags.

You exited the womb uniquely equipped. David states it this way:
 

My frame was not hidden from You when I was made in the secret place. When I was woven together in the depths of the earth, Your eyes saw my unformed body. All the days ordained for me were written in Your book before one of them came to be. — Psalm 139:15-16 NIV

Spelunk these verses with me. David emphasizes the pronoun “you” as if to say “You, God, and You alone.” “The secret place” suggests a hidden and safe place, concealed from intruders and evil. Just as an artist takes a canvas into a locked studio, so God took you into His hidden chamber where you were “woven together.” Moses used the same word to describe the needlework of the tabernacle’s inner curtains — stitched together by skillful hands for the highest purpose (see Exodus 26:1; Exodus 36:8; Exodus 38:9).

The Master Weaver selected your temperament threads, your character texture, the yarn of your personality — all before you were born. God did not drop you into the world utterly defenseless and empty-handed. You arrived fully equipped. “All the days ordained . . .” Day of birth and day of death. Days of difficulty and victory. What motivates you, what exhausts you… God authored — and authors — it all.

Other translations employ equally intriguing verbs:

You cannot be anything you want to be.
But you can be everything God wants you to be.
 

You… knit me together. (Psalm 139:13 NLT)

I was woven together in the dark of the womb. (Psalm 139:15 NLT)

I was… intricately and curiously wrought [as if embroidered with various colors]. 

(Psalm 139:15 AMP)

My hands have never embroidered a stitch, but my mom’s have. In pre-dishwasher days when mothers drafted young sons into kitchen duty to dry dishes, I grew too acquainted with her set of embroidered dishtowels. She had embellished sturdy white cloths with colorful threads: seven towels, each bearing the name of a different day. Her artisan skills rendered common towels uncommonly unique.

God did the same with you! How would you answer this multiple-choice question?

I am
_______ a coincidental collision of particles.

_______ an accidental evolution of molecules.

_______ soulless flotsam in the universe.

_______ “fearfully and wonderfully made” (Psalm 139:14), “skillfully wrought” 

(Psalm 139:15).
 

Don’t dull your life by missing this point: You are more than statistical chance, more than a marriage of heredity and society, more than a confluence of inherited chromosomes and childhood trauma. More than a walking weather vane whipped about by the cold winds of fate. Thanks to God, you have been “sculpted from nothing into something”. — Psalm 139:15 MSG

Envision Rodin carving The Thinker out of a rock. The sculptor chisels away a chunk of stone, shapes the curve of a kneecap, sands the forehead…

Now envision God doing the same: sculpting the way you are before you even were, engraving you with

an eye for organization,
an ear for fine music,
a heart that beats for justice and fairness, a mind that understands quantum physics, the tender fingers of a caregiver, or
the strong legs of a runner.

He made you you-nique.

Secular thinking, as a whole, doesn’t buy this. Secular society sees no author behind the book, no architect behind the house, no purpose behind or beyond life. Society sees no bag and certainly never urges you to unpack one. It simply says, “You can be anything you want to be.”

Be a butcher if you want to, a sales rep if you like. Be an ambassador if you really care. You can be anything you want to be. If you work hard enough. But can you? If God didn’t pack within you the meat sense of a butcher, the people skills of a salesperson, or the world vision of an ambassador, can you be one? An unhappy, dissatisfied one perhaps. But a fulfilled one? No. Can an acorn become a rose, a whale fly like a bird, or lead become gold? Absolutely not. You cannot be anything you want to be. But you can be everything God wants you to be.

Søren Kierkegaard echoed the teaching of Scripture when he wrote, “At each man’s birth there comes into being an eternal vocation for him, expressly for him. To be true to himself in relation to this eternal vocation is the highest thing a man can practice.”7

God never prefabs or mass-produces people. No slapdash shaping. “I make all things new,” he declares (Revelation 21:5). He didn’t hand you your granddad’s bag or your aunt’s life; he personally and deliberately packed you. When you live out of the bag God gave, you discover an uncommon joy.

When you do the most what you do the best, you put a smile on God’s face. What could be better than that?

Excerpted from Cure for the Common Life by Max Lucado, copyright Max Lucado.

You are you-nique! What do you feel made to do? What did God pack in your bag to bring you joy and make you effective for His glory?

Pastor Dale

Notes of Faith June 21, 2020

As John Eldredge and Brent Curtis articulated in The Sacred Romance, in John 1 we find a secret to the fabric of all creation.
 

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. — John 1:11

In the beginning, before all time, existed the eternal heroic fellowship of the Trinity. The person of the Father and the person of the Son and the person of the Spirit were joyously interacting and collaborating together — as Dallas Willard put it, “a community of unspeakably magnificent personal beings of boundless love, knowledge, and power.”

At the center of creation itself was loving relationship, particularly the relationship between a parent and a child, a Father and a Son. In the overflow of the generous love of the Trinity, human beings were created for adoption into the family of the Trinity as beloved sons and daughters. In his letter to the Ephesians, Paul put words to the wonder of God’s pleasure in creating humans as the focus of His love.
 

How blessed is God! And what a blessing He is! He’s the Father of our Master, Jesus Christ, and takes us to the high places of blessing in Him. Long before He laid down earth’s foundations, He had us in mind, had settled on us as the focus of His love, to be made whole and holy by His love. Long, long ago He decided to adopt us into His family through Jesus Christ. (What pleasure He took in planning this!) He wanted us to enter into the celebration of His lavish gift-giving by the hand of His beloved Son. — Ephesians 1:3-6 MSG

The joyous intention of God in human history is that Jesus might be the firstborn of many brothers and sisters (Romans 8:29), brothers and sisters who have been called by name by the Father and who are being transformed into the likeness of the Son of man with ever-increasing glory by the generative power of the Spirit (2 Corinthians 3:18).

We were made to participate in the life of God, in fellowship with the Father, Son, and Spirit, as dearly beloved children.

But there is another character in the story line of God’s beloved creation, a character whose intention is to disintegrate all that is good and beautiful and true. Satan knows that if he can dislodge a man from the place of secure sonship, he can not only stunt the restoration of the image of God in the man but also indirectly wound the heart of the Father (Zechariah 3:1-2; Revelation 12:10). Satan is cunning and calculating in his methods and brutal and savage in his intent (1 Peter 5:8). And the primary target of his assault is the sacred seat of sonship from which we were born and to which we are invited to return. We don’t have to look far in this world to see the sustained assault against the intimacy and connection intended between fathers and sons. And we don’t have to look far in our internal world to see the disintegration of sonship as well.

Years ago I came across a very revealing story recounted by Gordon Dalby. He told of a nun who worked in a men’s prison. One year she brought some Mother’s Day cards to distribute to any prisoners who were interested in sending cards to their moms. Word spread, and requests for cards began pouring in. The demand was so great that she reached out to Hallmark to see if they’d be willing to donate extra boxes of cards. That first year the warden drew numbers from a lottery to determine which inmates would receive the limited number of Mother’s Day cards.

With Father’s Day quickly approaching, the nun got to work securing sufficient boxes of Father’s Day cards, and the warden announced a free giveaway to all who were interested in sending a Father’s Day card.

Not a single prisoner asked for one.

What are we to make of this story? What has happened to the God-intended bond between fathers and their children?
 

• Of U.S. students in grades one through twelve, 17.7 million (39 percent) live in homes absent their biological fathers.

• According to 72 percent of the U.S. population, fatherlessness is the most significant family or social problem facing America.

While the condition of fatherlessness is where most men find their souls, this wasn’t the reality in which Jesus lived.

I remember sitting with John Eldredge, several years into my faith journey, and seeing through him what would become the most compelling portrait of the Gospel I’d ever encountered. Through John’s teaching on masculinity, I saw for the first time how Jesus is the embodiment of both unfailing compassion and masculine courage. He is at once gentle of soul (Matthew 11:28-30) and as relentless as a Navy SEAL in his warrior heart (Psalm 24:7-10).

I was starting to see the emasculated Jesus I had been handed for so many years. Could it be possible that Jesus embodied all the essential qualities that make the heart of a man come alive? And could it be true that the restoration of our hearts, as men, has been made available to us? The next day I cleared my calendar, skipped school, and headed up to the snowy high country of the Colorado Rockies, armed only with my Bible. I hiked in and hunkered down on the shore of an alpine lake. There I sat, confessing to the Spirit that I needed fresh eyes, cleansed of the religious veil, so that I could see Jesus — not as I’d been taught but as He truly is in Heaven. I walked through His life as portrayed in the Gospel of Mark, from beginning to end, dropping all my presuppositions as best I could. I took the stories and the man at face value. I immersed myself in the reality of His life. And I’ve never been the same.

Jesus lived as a son. In any and every moment, He modeled for us what it looks like to live as a son. What love looks like, in human form, played out in His relational integrity and wholeness of heart. In total dependency and union with His Father. When we look at the mission of Jesus through a religious veil and see Him as simply a merciful means to eternal salvation, we miss sonship entirely.

The place of sonship was the foundation of Jesus’ life, and it both attracted His students and filled them with ache and longing.
 

Teach us to pray. — Luke 11:1

Although these words lead us into what has become known as the Lord’s Prayer, Jesus’ teaching on the heart of prayer has been all but lost to us under the barrage of religiosity. But it begins this way: “Our Father.” If we would pause, allow our hearts to enter the scene, and become a student of Jesus alongside His other disciples, we would encounter a son inextricably united with His Father. The Scriptures are filled with glimpse after glimpse of Jesus’ union with His Abba.
 

I and the Father are one. —John 10:30

Whatever the Father does the Son also does. —John 5:19

This is life; that you might know the Father. — John 17:36

The disciples were in awe. Jesus’ life had a quality of eternity as He rested in the strength of His Father. His life flowed with ever-present anticipation and expectation of goodness now and goodness to come, knowing that He was the delight of His Father and that satisfying goodness was being prepared for Him (Isaiah 42:1).

It was this very life — this vibrant, intimate, and abundant life in and with the Father (John 7:38) — that His disciples wanted to know and experience for themselves. It was from this space that they turned to their teacher and said, “Jesus, teach us. We want what You have. We want to know this life.” Jesus consented, paused, and turned toward them, saying, “Father…”

He could have stopped there with this one word — Father — and it would have been sufficient. You see, the human soul is always searching for the Father.7 The reach for the accessible Father was the beginning and the end of Jesus’ prayer life. Better said, His whole life. Jesus revealed ultimate reality through these words:
 

I came from the Father and entered the world; now I am leaving the world and going back to the Father. — John 16:28

Here is the central idea. Whatever else we observe about the life of Jesus, we know this to be true: at every moment, Jesus modeled what it looks like to live as God’s Son. It was the bedrock of His life that allowed Him to become the cornerstone of restoration for all of mankind. It’s amazing to think that even Jesus needed to receive the validation of His Father before He launched into His life’s mission. I wonder what it was like for Him to hear those words from His Father: “Son, you are the real deal. You have what it takes. I delight in you” (Matthew 3:17, my paraphrase). His Father’s constant validation was a holy reservoir from which Jesus drew strength for the rest of His days.

What might it be like, deep in our masculine soul, to live in an atmosphere of abundance? To live with an abiding expectation of goodness now and goodness around the corner? To know a profound sense of robust well-being, a sense of being provided for, protected, and fed? To experience a union with God that nothing could dissolve? What would it be like to be so restored as a son that we could become our true self? To become the kind of king, like Paul, who over time was able to live energetically rooted in God, even in the midst of hunger, shipwreck, and torture?

Now that I have been so immersed in the true nature of God and His kingdom, now that I have thoroughly put to death the self-sufficiency and self-preservation of the false self, now that I have been resurrected and restored to my true self, now that I have become in my essence what God meant when He meant man, now that I have become uniquely who God meant, when He meant me, now that I have trained and become practiced in living a life in experiential union with God Himself, now that it is no longer the separate-I who lives but the very breath, strength, and life of God-with-me who lives in me, I am ready for anything, anywhere.

Imagine what it would be like to receive that validation from the Father, to have that reservoir from which to drink daily. To be integrated in our masculine soul. To live in ever-increasing union with the Father.

We would become unstoppable. Pause for a moment and let that sink in. Truly.

I suggest that it is available. And I submit that this reunion with our Father is the primary work that God is up to in your life and mine.
Excerpted permission from Becoming a King by Morgan Snyder, copyright Morgan Snyder.

Jesus prayed in John 17 that we would be one even as He and the Father are one.  We were created to participate in the life of God, in fellowship with the Father, Son, and Spirit, as dearly beloved children.

2 Peter 1:3-5

3 His divine power has granted to us all things that pertain to life and godliness, through the knowledge of him (Jesus) who called us to his own glory and excellence,  4 by which he has granted to us his precious and very great promises, so that through them you may become partakers of the divine nature, having escaped from the corruption that is in the world because of sinful desire. ESV

One day, perhaps today…we will experience our perfect transformation and enter the Divine presence.  We will be like Him for we shall see Him as He is.  Do we really understand what it means to be glorified?

Pastor Dale

Notes of Faith June 20, 2020

How do I distinguish between my desires and God’s? How do I tap in to my true heart’s desires — the ones that lead me to His best for me?

Once the Holy Spirit is dwelling within your heart, you have more than mere human intuition and know-how to help you make decisions. As the Spirit guides you through the four steps [to a sacred pace], He takes this mix of diverse ingredients that impact a decision and sifts through them to deliver a customized recipe for discerning the will of God in a situation.

Still, if you don’t train yourself to wait on the Lord and find out what is in your heart, your flesh can sorely mislead you. If you insist on getting quick answers, seeing your own agenda fulfilled, or gaining what the world has to give, you may have some measure of earthly success as I did — but you’ll also have to endure the even greater emptiness and disenchantment that comes with it. And you will never, ever be deep-in-your-heart happy, because you will have missed out on what you wanted the most.

Defaulting to Delight

My default and foundation is … Psalm 37:4,
 

Delight yourself in the Lord, and He will give you the desires of your heart. — ESV

What does delighting in the Lord look like? My spiritual mentor and I debate this. He is afraid for Christians to take this at face value because the desires of our hearts aren’t always pure. But my contention is that if I’m truly delighting in the Lord — finding joy in what pleases Him and pursuing His priorities — then what I ultimately desire in my heart of hearts, what I want most in this life, will be the same as whatever He blesses me with.

James 4:3 tells us that when we ask things of God and do not receive them, it is “because you ask with wrong motives, that you may spend what you get on your pleasures.” The four steps are one way He enlightens us about our greatest desires — which are His desires for us — and ensures that we receive them.

I’m thankful that the Lord doesn’t grant us every lesser desire. If He gave us every want that ever enters our minds, we would remain endlessly distracted by small things and never get to the great stuff He has planned!

My pre-burnout goal to become a millionaire is a prime example.

I thought for so long that this was the desire of my heart. Clearly, though, having the money in hand didn’t satisfy me. If anything, it slapped me with the emptiness of my priorities. Once I became a Christian and could look at my life through the lens of the Spirit,

I understood that my desire for money had been a surface “want.” It was my flesh talking. What I really craved was acceptance and love and a peaceful mind. I’d chosen wealth and accomplishment as my driving lanes, believing they would be the express route to happiness. Turns out, though, those fast lanes weren’t taking me somewhere great; they were just endlessly looping me around a meaningless track. I would have saved myself a lot of trouble if I’d followed Matthew Henry’s advice: “Take heed of forming plans for happiness, as though it lay in the things of this world, which soon pass away. Do not fall in with the customs of those who walk in the lusts of the flesh, and mind earthly things.”1

Likewise for some of the things I’ve thought I wanted. They’ve so often proven to be only a symptom of a deeper desire; I’ve needed sometimes years and years to identify what was causing the itch. What I’ve heard when looking at a material possession was, See that thing? You have the money. You want it. Here’s your chance to have it. Now! So buy it! But when there’s only been that voice shouting at me, and no peace, I’ve known it was the desire of my flesh talking — and time to walk away.

When I’ve waited on the Lord, that’s when He has delighted me by fulfilling far bigger dreams. In one instance, I’d been carrying a desire around for half my life. And in that dream come true, I learned what I would have forfeited had I settled for the lesser desire that preceded it.

Hearing the Heart

A sacred pace, and especially working to get neutral, is about tuning out the noise of your mind and the world so your heart can be heard. You see, there are ears and eyes of the head, and there are ears and eyes of the heart. The entire process of getting in step with God helps you train yourself to see and hear with your heart above all.

That’s not to say I don’t use reason and experience to help me discern God’s answers for my business and my life. As you’ve read, I’m very intent about due diligence. In my pursuit of the facts in any situation, I not only apply the things I’ve learned, but I pay attention to circumstances and seek the wisdom of trusted advisors. The Spirit uses all these things to help me drill down past any deceptive emotions, dangerous impulses, and hidden sin — all with the divine goal of getting me in touch with my true desires.

You have to give up yourself so God can have His way. As long as you are still trying to be in control, as long as you insist on your plan rather than God’s, you won’t get a “Spirit” answer in your decision-making; it’ll be a “self” answer.

The theme of this book is to get beyond yourself and discover God’s best answers for your life. If you need to talk to someone, fine. I know I sometimes need to be jarred, having somebody ask me tough questions to keep me from running off the tracks. Just don’t trust your impulses; don’t go with your emotions alone. When you do, you’re allowing your mind too much control. And trying to solve a problem from there is sure to backfire.

Working through the steps to get neutral will help you get out of your way and want God’s way. Not begrudgingly or fearfully, but gratefully. Expectantly.

This is one of the biggest changes I’ve experienced. I no longer live in dread, scared to death that if I don’t make everything happen according to my plan, it will fail. Some of my ventures may actually fail as part of God’s plan! He never promised to spare us pain, but He promised that the pain will be purposeful — He will use it to give us what we want most if we will do our part and let Him do His. Therefore, I try to keep moving forward in faith, doing what I can do, knowing He will then do what only He can do.

Part of my responsibility is to turn a deaf ear to the often-tempting things my flesh says will bring me satisfaction, and instead wait on the Lord for the desires of my heart. I live in complete confidence that as I operate from the heart, God will work all things for my good, my better, and my best. He said so! He will be good to me — delighting me beyond anything I could ever ask for or imagine, never making me settle for second best.

Ultimately, this process is one of giving up ourselves until we have “crucified the flesh with its passions and desires” (Galatians 5:24). This is how we die to sin and become alive to God. This is how we offer ourselves to His fulfilling purposes (Romans 6:11–13). This is what Christ meant when He announced,
 

Whoever wants to be My disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow Me. — Luke 9:23

The biblical commands to deny ourselves come with both a huge blessing and a bonus. The blessing is that we won’t come to the end of our lives and discover we’ve gained the whole world while forfeiting our soul (Matthew 16:26). And the bonus is that God gives us the greatest desires of our heart.

Matthew Henry, Matthew Henry’s Concise Commentary, Bible Hub, accessed February 18, 2017

Excerpted from Sacred Pace by Terry Looper, copyright Terry Looper.

What are the desires of your heart? Do you believe they align with God’s? Are your desires born out of His? How does God want to bless you through fulfilling the desires of your heart?

Pastor Dale

Notes of Faith June 19, 2020

Jesus Walked The Selfless Pace of Christian Love

by David Mathis

 Have you ever sat at the restaurant, or at the coffee shop, all by yourself at a table for two, waiting for that other person who is late to arrive? How unsettled do you feel? How agitated, even frustrated? How quickly do you reach for your phone to quickly “make the most” (you think) of the spare moments? [You might have to think back a few months or years]

 But what if you saw those unsettling, unplanned moments as a gift? A gift to finally stop and observe the world around you. A gift to slow down your breathing and heart rate. A gift to reawaken your soul to God’s three-dimensional world rather than plunge mindlessly back into the matrix of a two-dimensional screen?

New York Times columnist Thomas Friedman, who grew up in St. Louis Park, likes to take this road-less-traveled approach. He lives and works in the nation’s capital and finds that the busy people he meets with are often late.

 “On one of those occasions,” he writes, “I realized I didn’t care at all about my guest’s tardiness, so I said: ‘No, no, please — don’t apologize. In fact, you know what, thank you for being late!’” He explains in his book Thank You for Being Late,

 Because he was late . . . I had minted time for myself. I had “found” a few minutes to just sit and think. I was having fun eavesdropping on the couple at the next table (fascinating!) and people-watching the lobby (outrageous!). And, most important, in the pause, I had connected a couple of ideas I had been struggling with for days. So no apology was necessary. Hence: “Thank you for being late.”

 It felt good to have those few moments of unplanned-for, unscheduled time. . . . I needed to give myself (and my guests) permission to just slow down. (5)

 We are living in “the age of accelerations,” and one gift many of us need, among others, is “permission to just slow down.” Friedman’s book is about how fast paced our world has become through the exponential development of technology and other factors. Now “the pace of technology and scientific change,” he says, “outstrips the speed with which human beings and societies can usually adapt” (39). Friedman writes in his book that

we are living through one of the greatest inflection points in history — perhaps unequaled since . . . Gutenberg, a German blacksmith and printer, launched the printing revolution in Europe, paving the way for the Reformation. (3)

 Friedman believes we have come to “a fundamental turning point in history” (4). I know I’m feeling the effects of it. If I honestly evaluate my life, I often feel pressed to hurry. Too much to do; gotta hurry. Hurry in the morning. Hurry on the road. Hurry at work. Hurry between meetings and in meetings and over meals. Hurry to get dinner ready. Hurry to eat. Hurry to get the kids to clean up, and out the door, and to bed. Then, hurry to do more on evenings and weekends than I realistically have time for. Then hurry to bed. Get too little sleep. Then wake up again the next day and run the gauntlet of hurry over and over again.

Anyone else ever feel like life has become more hurried than it used to be?

 What Is Hurry Doing to Our Souls?

 The late Dallas Willard (who died in 2013) wrote toward the end of his life,

Hurry is the great enemy of spiritual life in our day. You must ruthlessly eliminate hurry from your life.

 A pastor in Portland named John Mark Comer wrote a book inspired by the Willard quote, called The Ruthless Elimination of Hurry. He believes it isn’t as much our busyness as our hurry that is suffocating our souls today:

The problem isn’t when you have a lot to do; it’s when you have too much to do and the only way to keep the quota up is to hurry. (21)

 And our topic this afternoon is love. In particular, love for others as part of this chapel series on love. The connection is that our hurried lives are not irrelevant to our call to love. So, that’s our issue in these moments. How does our hurry affect our love for others, and lack thereof? And specifically, our focus is on love as “the fruit of the Spirit.” And I’m finding that the main passage on love as produced by the Spirit provides some provocative insights for us related to our pace of life in the modern world.

 Turn with me to Galatians 5, and I’ll read verses 13–25.

 Our Complex Tendencies

 Before doing so, let me disclaim here that talking about pace of life cuts both ways. Our world is not just frenzied. It can also be lazy. Satan, as you may have heard, loves to make a workshop in the idle mind. I don’t doubt that there are some in this room who are moving too slow. Too sedentary. Too lazy. You’re not even walking in life. You are sauntering, at best. Perhaps simply standing still. You are moseying — and the Holy Spirit, patient as he is, doesn’t mosey. He moves with intentionality. He has purpose. And he has patience. He is not frenzied, and not lazy.

 We all will do well to ask ourselves about our complex tendencies. I say “complex” because we are complex creatures who make a habit of defying simplistic explanations. Not only do we have various capacities and optimal paces, but also, we ourselves oscillate. The very same person who “goes too fast” at work or school ends up “going too slow” at home. Like the hurried executive who comes home to veg.

 Love Produced by the Spirit

 Galatians 5:13–25:

You were called to freedom, brothers. Only do not use your freedom as an opportunity for the flesh, but through love serve one another. For the whole law is fulfilled in one word: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” But if you bite and devour one another, watch out that you are not consumed by one another.

But I say, walk by the Spirit, and you will not gratify the desires of the flesh. For the desires of the flesh are against the Spirit, and the desires of the Spirit are against the flesh, for these are opposed to each other, to keep you from doing the things you want to do. But if you are led by the Spirit, you are not under the law. Now the works of the flesh are evident: sexual immorality, impurity, sensuality, idolatry, sorcery, enmity, strife, jealousy, fits of anger, rivalries, dissensions, divisions, envy, drunkenness, orgies, and things like these. I warn you, as I warned you before, that those who do such things will not inherit the kingdom of God. But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such things there is no law. And those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires.

If we live by the Spirit, let us also keep in step with the Spirit.

 So, this is the passage on how our love relates to God’s Spirit. In our limited time here, let’s focus on three observations.

 1. Love serves others.

 There are three main uses of “love” in Paul’s letters. First is God’s love (and Christ’s love) for us. Second is our love for God. Third, far and away most often, is our love for fellow humans. Yesterday, I reviewed all Paul’s uses of the word “love” in its various forms, as a noun and verb. Depending on how you count, there are about 115 total. Of those,

• a little over 20 refer to God’s love for us,

• about 5 or 6 refer to our love for God, and

• almost 90 refer to our love for fellow humans.
  
   
  That might be surprising to you, especially to us Christian Hedonists who love to emphasize the place of our Godward affections in glorifying God as we ought. Paul has no trouble with that theologically. Again, five or six clearly refer to our love for God, but typically, Paul’s summary term for the Christian’s Godward orientation is “faith.” He talks about the Christian life, in sum, as faith in God and love toward others.
  
   I have heard of your faith in the Lord Jesus and your love toward all the saints. (Ephesians 1:15)
  
   We heard of your faith in Christ Jesus and of the love that you have for all the saints. (Colossians 1:4; so also 1 Thessalonians 3:6; 5:8; 2 Thessalonians 1:3; 1 Timothy 1:14; 2:15; 2 Timothy 1:13; Philemon 5)
  
   Here in Galatians 5, “love” clearly refers to our orientation on others, toward fellow humans. As verse 13 says: “through love serve one another.” And this serving others is what fulfills God’s law. God’s law begins with “love me” (commandments 1–4). And God’s law is fulfilled with “love one another” (commandments 5–10). Jesus, of course, summarized the law as (1) love for God, and (2) love for neighbor (Matthew 22:37–40). And Paul emphasizes love as the fulfilling of the law more in this passage (I count three times) than anywhere else in his letters:
  

• 5:6: “In Christ Jesus neither circumcision nor uncircumcision counts for anything, but only faith working through love.”

• 5:14: “The whole law is fulfilled in one word: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’”

• 6:2: “Bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ.”
  
  By the way, this concept of our love for others “fulfilling the law” has similar shape to how the apostle John writes about the “completing” or “perfecting” of love. First comes God’s love for us. Then our love for him. Then his love is fulfilled, or completed, in our love for others (see John 13:34; 15:12; 1 John 2:5; 4:7–12, 17–18).
  
  So, our love — our serving others — fulfills or completes what God requires, which begins in his love for us, and our faith toward him. Which leads to a second observation, since we’ve mentioned faith.
  
   2. Love (for others) issues from faith in Christ.
  
  Christian love is not simply love for love’s sake. Christian love for others is an extension of our love for God. Or, to use Paul’s summary Godward term, love for others issues from faith in Christ. Paul says in Galatians 5:6 that what counts is “faith working through love.”
  
  Another place in Paul where he not only gives faith and love as summary terms, but specifies the relationship between vertical faith and horizontal love, is 1 Timothy 1:5:
  
   The aim of our charge is love that issues from a pure heart and a good conscience and a sincere faith.
  
   Genuine love for others begins with faith in Christ. Or, we might say, faith in Christ (in us) is the channel through which genuine love (for others) flows. How? Faith in Christ is soul-satisfying, and thus, freeing. Faith delights and rests in Christ, liberates us from the prison of self, and prompts us to expand that joy by drawing others in through acts of love.
  
   The reason this is important to stress when considering love as “the fruit of the Spirit” is because our love for others, produced in and through us by the Spirit, is fruit, not root. Other realities must happen first. Our love, our doing good, our meeting others’ needs, our good works are not the root of the Christian life but the fruit of the Spirit’s work.
  
   As far as we ourselves are involved, at the root is faith — the uniquely receiving virtue that looks away from self to another and his work. So, the root of the Christian life is not our virtue, but Christ’s. Faith is our reception of Christ as the root.
  
  Note well that the action of the root happens apart from us. Christ does the work; we receive him by faith. And, on the other hand, the Spirit produces the fruit of love in and through us — not apart from us. In other words, to use theological language, the work of justification happens outside of us, received by faith, while the work of sanctification happens in us and through us.
  
   And that image of fruit is especially interesting here in our age of accelerations. Because fruit is organic. Fruit is produced over time in such tiny increments that you can’t see the change on a daily basis. You don’t produce fruit in a microwave. You don’t assemble it in a factory. You grow it in a field — even better, God grows it. It doesn’t pop out in a moment. Fruit grows, imperceptibly, day by day.
  
  So, the way that love, as serving others, happens, is we despair of self (repentance) and trust in God through Christ (faith), and that faith is not mutually exclusive with God’s Spirit, but produced and sustained by God’s Spirit, and our affections and actions of love are inspired and empowered by the Spirit.
  
  3. God calls us to move at the pace of his Spirit.
  
   What struck me here in meditating on love as the fruit of the Spirit is that Christians are called to adjust our lives to the Spirit, not presume that he will adjust to ours. There’s no word here in Galatians 5 about the Spirit’s remarkable variability of speed, and that he’ll track us down no matter how fast or how sedentary our pace of life. The clear emphasis here is that he takes the lead, and we follow. He sets the pace:
  
   5:16: “Walk by the Spirit.”

• 5:18: “If you are led by the Spirit . . .”

• 5:25: “If we live by the Spirit, let us also keep in step with the Spirit.”
  
  Walk with him, at his pace. Be led by him. Live by him. Keep in step with him.
  
  Walking is a powerful image for the Christian life. Not that there’s no place for running. Paul himself says he runs. He hopes his running will not be in vain (Galatians 2:2; Philippians 2:16). He laments that the Galatians “were running well” before being deceived by false teachers (Galatians 5:7). He likens the Christian life to a kind of foot race with a prize at the end, and says, “So run that you may obtain it” (1 Corinthians 9:24). However, two verses later, he also concedes a danger when he says, “I do not run aimlessly; I do not box as one beating the air” (1 Corinthians 9:26).
  
  But far more often than “run,” Paul says “walk”:

• mans 8:4: “The righteous requirement of the law [love!] [will] be fulfilled in us, who walk not according to the flesh but according to the Spirit.”

• Romans 14:15: “If your brother is grieved by what you eat, you are no longer walking in love.”

• Ephesians 2:10: “We are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works [acts of service, love for others], which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them.”

• Ephesians 4:1: “I . . . urge you to walk in a manner worthy of the calling to which you have been called.”

• Ephesians 5:1–2: “Be imitators of God, as beloved children. And walk in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.”
  
   And on and on.
  
   Before I end with a few soul-searching questions for us — as to whether our pace of life is “[keeping] in step with the Spirit” or with our age and our flesh — let me read Galatians 5:22–23, and let’s ask ourselves what general pace of life seems to go with this kind of Spirit-production. What kind of speed and trajectory, so far as you can tell for you, would it take to see fruit like this borne in your life?
  
  The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such things there is no law. (Galatians 5:22–23)
  
   You have permission to just slow down.
  
   Four Questions for Self-Evaluation
  
   Let me assume that you, like me, want the Holy Spirit to produce his fruit in and through your life. So let’s close with four questions for self-evaluation.
  
  Note: These are not mainly for evaluating others. There is a Spirit-flesh paradigm to be aware of here, as with finances and entertainment choices and screen time. The way of our flesh is to be suspicious of others and make excuses for ourselves — to be hard on others and easy on ourselves. But the way of the Spirit is opposed to the flesh. When he is at work, we will be tougher on ourselves and our sins and our patterns, and more gentle with others.
  
   So, how are you doing on pace? Are you keeping in step with the Spirit, who produces the fruit of love? Or are you presuming that he will adjust to your step, which has been set by the frenzy or laziness of the world? No simplistic assumptions here. Very few lives are lived at essentially static pace, whether feverish or sluggish. Most of us have dynamically paced lives that go up and down.
  
  And the Spirit’s pace is dynamic. But do you go frenzied when the Spirit is patient, and stop when the Spirit is moving? Are you enslaved by the unhealthy oscillations of the world’s pace: sprint, crash; sprint, crash. Or are you walking — day in and day out, one foot in front of the other, rhythmic, moving, almost effortless, not standing still and not running yourself ragged — by the Spirit?
  
   But with those ups and downs, there is an overall pace. An average. A default. So, get an intuitive sense for your default and ask yourself, Who is setting my default? Is it the Spirit, or my flesh?
  
   1. How hurried are my devotions?
  
   Do you prioritize a daily season (first thing in the morning proves best for most) for unhurried Bible meditation and prayer? Are you able to move at the pace of the text, or do you feel the pressure to do your devotions at the pace of modern life?
  
  A related question might be: How quick are you to flee the scene from corporate worship and community group to get to the next thing?
  
   2. Am I making space for human basics?
  
  In addition to unhurried Bible meditation and prayer, and an almost nonnegotiable commitment to corporate worship and small-group life, are you getting adequate sleep? Exercise. Nutrition (slow food, not fast food). Hygiene. Washing your hands. Brushing your teeth. Annual physicals. Eye appointments. Dental appointments.
  
   If all that sounds like too much, perhaps you’re still resisting the glorious confines of humanity. You’re trying to do more than is realistic. And if you don’t have time for these basics, you probably are not moving at the pace of love. Perhaps God means to freshly impress upon you the glorious limitations of being human — which his own Son embraced — and give you “permission to just slow down” and find the pace of love.
  
   3. Do I have enough room for God’s wonderfully humbling providences?
  
  God is not sitting back watching the machinations of this world grind and frustrate our plans. God is active. He’s engaged. He’s moving history forward. He’s moving your life forward each day. And in love, he makes a point to regularly frustrate our plans and self-reliance with his severe mercies. The reason your life goes as planned so infrequently is because God loves you.
  
   If your planning isn’t factoring in the normal variables of daily life in a world you do not run, how are you loving others?
  
   4. Do I have enough margin in my schedule and life for other people’s needs and requests?
  
   As a Christian, it’s not enough to simply ask if my current pace of life is sustainable for my own soul. We are called to care for more noses than our own. Do I have enough space not just for my own sanity but for the souls of others? Do you have margin to take notice, and linger with, and lend a hand, and invest time and energy into other people?
  
  We’re not talking first and foremost about strangers downtown. They’re not irrelevant, but we’re talking first and foremost about relationships in this room. Relationships in our homes. In our classes. In our families. With those we bump in to and cross paths with day after day in the course of our work and school and family life.
  
   Is life moving too fast for you to see the needs of others? What pace of life will that be for you? Do you have too much on your plate?
  
   Busy Without Hurry
  
   Think of Jesus’s life. He was not idle. And he was not frenzied. He walked. And he walked. And he walked. From all we can tell from the Gospels, Jesus’s days were full. I think it would be fair to say he was busy, but he was not frenzied. His days were full, and yet he did not seem to be in a hurry. He moved at the pace of love. And don’t we all want to be like that?
  
   But our hope is far greater than simply synching up with Jesus’s perfect pace. And keeping in step with his Spirit. Even if we were to get the pace down, we all know we can’t love like we ought. Not even close. Which is why it’s such good news that love is the fruit of the Spirit. Not the fruit of our flesh. Not the fruit of our strength. Love is produced by the Spirit through us. Not apart from us. Our fruit of love happens in and through us, by the power of the Spirit.
  
   The Holy Spirit not only produces the fruit of love in and through us, but he also pours God’s love into our hearts (Romans 5:5). Bearing fruit, by the Spirit, is not first and foremost for us in Christ. First, we are “rooted and grounded in love” (Ephesians 3:17) — that is, Christ’s love for us (Ephesians 3:19).
  
  It is good news that our root is not ourselves, but Christ. And our fruit of love and doing good, engaged as we are in the process, is not our own, but the working and power of God’s Spirit.
  
  If we would spend more time focused on God, who He is, who we are in Him, our lives would be greatly transformed by the power that lives within us.
  
   Pastor Dale

Notes of Faith June 18, 2020

4 Practices for Staying Encouraged

No Matter What
In the sport of boxing, one of a boxer’s most important jobs is keeping their guard up. They keep their hands up to protect their head, because it’s the most vulnerable place to be hit. When it comes to our spiritual battles, however, it is not our head we must guard, but our heart:

 Above all else guard your heart for everything you do flows from it. (Proverbs 4:23 NASB)

Our hearts are the seat of our courage, the inner virtue by which we put our faith into action. This is why the enemy works overtime to dis-courage us.  Like a boxer, he employs a variety of strategies to attack us so that we lower the guard around our hearts, allowing his lies to penetrate and rob us of our courage.

So many people—pastors and leaders!—have been shipwrecked in their faith simply because they did not prioritize guarding their heart. Because of lies and discouragement that get in, they end up leaving churches, breaking up their marriages, falling into addictions, and rejecting God Himself—all to their own destruction. If we want to avoid shipwreck and fulfill the call of God on our lives, we must make it our priority to guard our hearts. Here are four essential practices that will help us beat discouragement and stay encouraged.

 Practice #1: Take a Timeout

One time I was meeting with Danny Silk, who has been a mentor in my life in the area of building heart awareness, when he asked me, “When someone sprains their ankle in a game, what do they do?”

“You tape it up,” I replied.

Danny shook his head. I threw out a few other answers, but none of them hit the target. He finally told me what he was looking for. “You take yourself out of the game and assess the situation.”

This idea seemed so simple and yet foreign to me. I grew up with the belief that if you got hurt in a game, you played through it. You sucked it up, taped it up, got a shot to numb the pain, and pressed on. And while I still think it’s important to display endurance in the face of pain, I now recognize that when I am feeling hurt, scared, overwhelmed, or powerless, it’s reckless and unhealthy to try to compartmentalize, ignore, or medicate it and try to move on. I need to stop what I’m doing and take a timeout to assess what’s really going on in my heart.

Taking a timeout isn’t that complicated. Just get alone in a quiet place where you can pray, think, and maybe journal. Start by quieting your mind and body and just being present to God and your own spirit. Then ask yourself a few simple questions, silently, out loud, or on paper: 

• What am I feeling right now?

• What am I thinking right now?

• What am I wanting right now?

• What am I believing right now?

Speak or write down your answers. Invite the Holy Spirit to show you where you are believing any lies, to reveal His truth, and to restore your courage to walk in that truth.

  Practice #2: The Power of a Meal and a Nap

 Sometimes when we are struggling with discouragement, we think we need to go on a forty-day water fast and start getting up at five every morning to pray and press in harder. I believe in fasting and I am deeply committed to prayer, but our spiritual world is connected to our physical world, and sometimes the first thing we need to do is eat and sleep. This was the first thing God did for Elijah when He met him in his place of discouragement. Before He spoke with Elijah and encouraged Him with truth, He had him eat a meal, take a nap, and then eat another meal (see 1 Kings 19:5-7). Sometimes we’re just worn out physically and the most spiritual thing we can do is take a nap and eat a meal.

 Practice #3: Keep One Foot in the Water

 I met the son of a Vietnam era Navy SEAL who told me that his dad and other SEALs had a phrase: “Always keep one foot in water.” No matter what enemy they’re facing, SEALs are confident that if they get into water, they will have the advantage, because they are trained to thrive in that environment, which is dangerous and even fatal to everyone else.   

The presence of God is to us as believers like water to a Navy SEAL. For us, the presence of God is where we thrive, and where the lies of the enemy die. We’re called to “always keep one foot” in the presence of God, because the moment we retreat to His presence, the lies of discouragement, hopelessness, powerlessness fall away, and we are filled with the truth that He is with us, that there is boundless hope for our situation, and that we are not alone.

 Practice #4: Find Your Encouragers

God designed our vital connections with other believers to be one of the primary sources of courage in our lives. In the Scriptures, we see that whenever He called somebody, He placed somebody beside them as an encourager. Joshua had Moses. Jonathan had his armor bearer. David had Jonathan. Esther had Mordecai. Paul had Barnabas, and Timothy had Paul. None of these people would have had the courage to do what God had called them to do without the presence of encouragers around them.

Spiritual community is essential to keeping our guard up, which is why we must do all we can to avoid offense, pride, fear, or shame that would lead us to distance or isolate ourselves from others. So often when I have gotten worn out, dropped my guard, started to believe lies, and ended up discouraged, it has been the community around me who has spoken truth to me and restored my courage. The more I have benefited from the strength of community in my life the more ridiculous it seems to me to try to face battles alone. Why would I show up to the battle alone when I don’t have to?

Establishing practices that protect our heart and keep it healthy will enable every one of us to win the battle to stay encouraged. The challenge is to make it and keep it a priority, and this, “above all else,” is what we must do.

— by Banning Liebscher, author of the book and study The Three-Mile Walk: The Courage You Need to Live the Life God Wants for You

About the Author

BANNING LIEBSCHER is a pastor, speaker, and author. Along with his wife, SeaJay, he founded Jesus Culture, a ministry of worship, conferences, and leadership development. In 2014, they planted Jesus Culture Sacramento, a local church in California with a passion to see people fully engaged in becoming who God has called them to be and to do what God has called them to do.

 We do need to learn to be all that we can be . . .  by and through the Spirit of God, living for the eternal rather than the temporal.  It is way too easy to get caught up in the day to day or even a lifetime and not see the big picture of God’s plan that is unfolding to bring in the eternal day of righteousness and justice.  May His grace and mercy continue to bless as we fervently seek to walk in His statutes and obey His commands.

 Pastor Dale