Notes of Faith September 25, 2021

In a mother’s womb were two babies. One asked the other: “Do you believe in life after delivery?”

The other replied, “Why, of course. There has to be something after delivery. Maybe we are here to prepare ourselves for what we will be later.”

“Nonsense,” said the first. “There is no life after delivery. What kind of life would that be?”

The second said, “I don’t know, but there will be more light than here. Maybe we will walk with our legs and eat from our mouths. Maybe we will have other senses that we can’t understand now.”

The first replied, “That is absurd. Walking is impossible. And eating with our mouths? Ridiculous! The umbilical cord supplies nutrition and everything we need. But the umbilical cord is so short. Life after delivery is to be logically excluded.”

The second insisted, “Well I think there is something and maybe it’s different than it is here. Maybe we won’t need this physical cord anymore.”

The first replied, “Nonsense. And moreover, if there is life, then why has no one ever come back from there? Delivery is the end of life, and in the after-delivery, there is nothing but darkness and silence and oblivion. It takes us nowhere.”

“Well, I don’t know,” said the second, “but certainly we will meet Mother and she will take care of us.”

The first replied “Mother? You actually believe in Mother? That’s laughable. If Mother exists then where is She now?”

The second said, “She is all around us. We are surrounded by her. We are of Her. It is in Her that we live. Without Her, this world would not and could not exist.”

Said the first: “Well I don’t see Her, so it is only logical that She doesn’t exist.”

To which the second replied, “Sometimes, when you are in silence and you focus and listen, you can perceive Her presence, and you can hear Her loving voice, calling down from above.”

God describes Himself in His word as our heavenly Father.  But this author has written in poignant terms of an example of the reality of God and life after death.  The issue is believing in God (Jesus Christ for our salvation and eternal life) or not and suffering eternal judgment for unbelief.

Do you hear the voice of God calling out to you now to come to Him and be prepared for the life to come?

Pastor Dale

Notes of Faith September 24, 2021

As you get out of bed in the morning, be aware of My Presence with you. You may not be thinking clearly yet, but I am. Your early morning thoughts tend to be anxious ones until you get connected with Me. Invite Me into your thoughts by whispering My Name. Suddenly your day brightens and feels more user-friendly. You cannot dread a day that is vibrant with My Presence.

You gain confidence through knowing that I am with you — that you face nothing alone. Anxiety stems from asking the wrong question: “If such and such happens, can I handle it?” The true question is not whether you can cope with whatever happens, but whether you and I together can handle anything that occurs. It is this you-and-I-together factor that gives you confidence to face the day cheerfully.

In the morning, O Lord, You hear my voice; in the morning I lay my requests before You and wait in expectation.
— Psalm 5:3

O God, You are my God; early will I seek You; my soul thirsts for You; my flesh longs for You in a dry and thirsty land where there is no water. — Psalm 63:1 NKJV

I can do everything through Him who gives me strength.
— Philippians 4:13

Walk by faith, not by sight. As you take steps of faith, depending on Me, I will show you how much I can do for you. If you live your life too safely, you will never know the thrill of seeing Me work through you. When I gave you My Spirit, I empowered you to live beyond your natural ability and strength. That’s why it is so wrong to measure your energy level against the challenges ahead of you. The issue is not your strength but Mine, which is limitless. By walking close to Me, you can accomplish My purposes in My strength.

For we walk by faith, not by sight. — 2 Corinthians 5:7 NKJV

Since we live by the Spirit, let us keep in step with the Spirit. — Galatians 5:25

But I will sing of Your strength, in the morning I will sing of Your love; for You are my fortress, my refuge in times of trouble. O my Strength, I sing praise to You; you, O God, are my fortress, my loving God. 
— Psalm 59:16–17

As you look into the day that stretches out before you, you see many choice-points along the way. The myriad possibilities these choices present can confuse you. Draw your mind back to the threshold of this day, where I stand beside you, lovingly preparing you for what is ahead.

You must make your choices one at a time since each is contingent upon the decision that precedes it. Instead of trying to create a mental map of your path through this day, focus on My loving Presence with you. I will equip you as you go so that you can handle whatever comes your way.

Trust Me to supply what you need when you need it.

Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for His compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness. I say to myself, “The Lord is my portion; therefore I will wait for Him.” The Lord is good to those whose hope is in Him, to the one who seeks Him; it is good to wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord.
— Lamentations 3:22–26

In his heart a man plans his course, but the Lord determines his steps. — Proverbs 16:9

Oh, taste and see that the Lord is good; blessed is the man who trusts in Him! — Psalm 34:8 NKJV

Excerpted from Jesus Calling Note-Taking Edition by Sarah Young, copyright Sarah Young.

Start the day with the Lord! Even while waking, we can turn our attention to God and say, “Good morning, Father. I trust You with today. Thank You for being with me every moment.”

How do you begin your days?

Pastor Dale

Notes of Faith September 23, 2021

The Kingdom of God has come in person through the obedience of Jesus as He offered Himself as the perfect priest, prophet, and king. In turn, He entrusts and empowers us to live out a kingdom on earth as it exists and operates in Heaven.

And I confer on you a kingdom, He said, just as My Father conferred one on Me, so that you may eat and drink at My table in My Kingdom and sit on thrones, judging the twelve tribes of Israel. — Luke 22:29–30

Our calling is to come to know who we are and what we bring to the world that reveals how the Kingdom of God works. How we live that out in our particular space is through daily practicing Jesus’ model and indwelling power.

Years ago, when I was the president of a fledgling graduate school, I shared a meal with a highly respected educator-president of a Christian university. The man had served for many decades as head of the school, and I was in my first three years of servitude. I complained verbosely about my situation — everything from faculty antics, to students who felt our teaching was too biblical, to others who thought the same professors were heretics, and I threw in donors, accreditors, staff, and then circled back around to the irascible faculty just for good measure. I am sure he found it all riveting, if not insufferable, though he was kind enough to allow me to vent.

Finally, he stopped me and asked, “Do you not know your heritage as an academic?” I didn’t. He said, “The university system has been in operation since the University of Bologna in 1088. And who were the primary teachers? Not the first son. He was granted primogeniture — he got the land. The second tended to enter the next most valuable world, the military. The third son found his way into the next most powerful world, the church and political realm. Only the fourth sons and beyond, often children conceived with mistresses, went into the academy. Given this heritage, your conflicts in the academy ought not surprise you.”

I can’t confirm the truthfulness of his claim, but I heard precisely what he wanted me to grasp: I was an illegitimate son, full of envy and robust struggle, an outsider to the realms of power that land, commerce, weaponry, politics, and ecclesiology offer. He silenced my complaint and invited me to bless my calling. I have been given a kingdom that calls me to embrace the role of a prophet, and even more so as an academic trainer of therapists.

To usher in God’s Kingdom on earth, we need to know our personal stories and how they fit the organizations or systems we are drafted into.

I say “drafted,” though for some it is truer to say “enlisted.” I, quite certainly, was drafted. I didn’t intend to follow Jesus, pursue a degree in psychology, address sexual abuse, or be part of starting a graduate school; I all but fell into those opportunities. Once drafted, I did my best to perform well and strive for excellence, but I still sometimes wish I were an attorney and made a boatload of money.

Whether we were drafted or enlisted, fell into a job, or followed our plan and got our heart’s desire, we were given a “kingdom” to serve. In our kingdom, we are never intended to stake a claim to only one aspect of Jesus; rather, we are meant to reveal the fullness of His character as a priest, prophet, and king or queen. We all start out more gifted in one, weaker in another, and middling in a third, but we are called to reveal all three. We must never be dismissive of our areas of weakness as if someone else will pull that weight for us. I know some truly remarkable men and women whose gifting is equally replete in all three offices. Yet at the same time, I don’t envy them. It’s difficult enough to bear Jesus’ likeness in one station; to score high marks in all three is to share in His sufferings even more.

Given this is the struggle — to learn to suffer well — the best way to consider one’s calling I’ve found is through the lens of our personal stories.

Our stories give rise to our callings, and our callings set the trajectory for more to discover their stories. If we learn to read our stories well, we will see at least a hint, if not the full colorful rainbow, of themes that shape us and make up the multihued palette of who we truly are and what we are meant to do for the sake of the Kingdom.1

My story begins with a borderline personality-disordered mother, a dead Jewish father who fled from his ethnicity, and a stepfather who loved and served a difficult woman and a traumatized boy. He did so by working extremely hard to supply all our physical needs while being too terrified to engage in the disquiet of his wife’s soul or the fury of his son’s heart. He was one of the kindest men I have known, but he was also afraid to take on the debris of his family. He left that up to me.

I remember making decisions as to where we would go for summer vacation by the time I was six. Early in my life, I realized that it was my job to entertain and soothe my mother. I studied her as if my life depended on it, which in a way it did, and grew to anticipate when she would explode, weep, or faint and fall. I was a therapist by eight, and I played my role well. My defense from being consumed by my mother’s care was to remain distant and defiant. My classic cries for help kept me regularly frequenting the principal’s office. I was a stranger to my peers and awkward in my world. Angry, lonely, observant, and verbal, I found solace in odd, forgotten things and strange people. At a young age, a deeper trauma entered my world through sexual abuse, and I learned that if you’re crazy and unpredictable, most people will leave you alone.

I hated being in charge. It was always a no-win situation. If I took over, my father resented me. If I didn’t, my mother was terrified, and in turn my father resented me. Any choice I made determined our direction, but if the plan didn’t work, it was always my fault. I was given inappropriate power, held responsible for what my young shoulders weren’t meant to carry. Escaping through anarchy felt good.

But in this, my grandmother was witty and tender, quiet, and defiant like me. I remember sitting next to her as she rustled my hair and discreetly helped me interpret my mom’s antics.

She’d name the behavior and then share the layers of meaning packed into a single word or look. She provided my first training in hermeneutics, ushering me into the complexity of the human heart by helping me understand that what I studied was only a portion of what was to be understood. All my later theological and psychological reflections formed a foundation as she helped me see my world with wit and kindness. As an only child with a mentally ill mother, a passive father, and a peculiar grandmother, my story framed my way of being in the world — and formed my calling.

A simple algorithm regarding gifting seems true:
God uses our strengths to draw us to our calling and then uses our weaknesses to reveal our need for redemption.
~ Dan

  1. See my books To Be Told (Colorado Springs, CO: WaterBrook, 2006) and The Wounded Heart (Colorado Springs, CO: NavPress, 2008).

Excerpted from Redeeming Heartache by Dan Allender and Cathy Loerzel, copyright Dan B. Allender and Cathy Loerzel.

How has He used your strengths to draw you to your calling? And, how has God used your weaknesses to show you what needs to be redeemed in your life? 

Pastor Dale

 

Notes of Faith September 22, 2021

John 16:16-24

16 "A little while, and you will no longer see Me; and again a little while, and you will see Me."  17 Some of His disciples then said to one another, "What is this thing He is telling us, 'A little while, and you will not see Me; and again a little while, and you will see Me'; and, 'because I go to the Father'?" 18 So they were saying, "What is this that He says, 'A little while'? We do not know what He is talking about." 19 Jesus knew that they wished to question Him, and He said to them, "Are you deliberating together about this, that I said, 'A little while, and you will not see Me, and again a little while, and you will see Me'?  20 "Truly, truly, I say to you, that you will weep and lament, but the world will rejoice; you will grieve, but your grief will be turned into joy.  21 "Whenever a woman is in labor she has pain, because her hour has come; but when she gives birth to the child, she no longer remembers the anguish because of the joy that a child has been born into the world.  22 "Therefore you too have grief now; but I will see you again, and your heart will rejoice, and no one will take your joy away from you.

23 "In that day you will not question Me about anything. Truly, truly, I say to you, if you ask the Father for anything in My name, He will give it to you.  24 "Until now you have asked for nothing in My name; ask and you will receive, so that your joy may be made full.
NASU

Jesus spent His last evening before the Cross comforting His disciples.

Jesus understood that it’s easier to endure a season of trial if there’s an end in sight, so He spent time talking to His followers about the future. At this point, Jesus was just hours from the Cross. Still, He reassured His disciples that the time of their suffering would come to an end and would be replaced with joy. In every sense, Jesus was preparing these men for what was about to transpire.

Although Jesus encouraged His disciples, He didn’t sugarcoat what was about to happen. The disciples were about to enter a time of suffering.

He told them they would weep and mourn and warned there would be others who would celebrate His death (John 16:20). Undoubtedly, the world’s gloating would intensify their pain. However, Christ’s enemies wouldn’t celebrate for long. About the time the disciples’ grief turned to joy, the world’s celebration over Christ’s death would turn to dismay.

Jesus compared what was coming to a woman giving birth.

The pains of childbirth are agonizing but must be experienced. But after a woman gives birth to a child, she is so overjoyed with the baby that she quickly forgets the suffering caused by the labor (John 16:21). In the same way, the disciples would experience intense grief, but when the reality of the risen Christ was manifested to them, their joy would be so intense their suffering would seem minimal. Jesus said,

So with you: Now is your time of grief, but I will see you again and you will rejoice, and no one will take away your joy. — John 16:22

For Christians, all suffering has an expiration date. No matter how dark our days may seem, the Bible teaches that all grief will come to an end and will be replaced with eternal peace and glad- ness. In the book of Revelation, the apostle John wrote,

He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death’ or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away. — Revelation 21:4

Father, I thank You that because of Jesus a time is coming when all trials and suffering will come to an end Until that day, empower me to persevere through my trials and anticipate the joy and peace that awaits all believers in Jesus Christ.

Do you anticipate the day when all suffering will come to an end? Do you look forward to the eternal joy and peace that will be experienced by all believers in Jesus Christ? How does knowing all suffering has an expiration date encourage you in this season?

Excerpted from 10 Minutes in the Word: John, copyright Zondervan.

Are you hurting right now? Does it feel endless? If so, be reminded that Jesus brought an ending date for pain.  He is faithful in His promises!

Pastor Dale

 

Sorry that I missed sending this yesterday.  Being busy caught up with me to the point that I thought I had done it.

Notes of Faith September 21, 2021

I can’t expect any other person to be my soul oxygen.

I can’t live as if my next breath depends on whether or not they give me enough air for my lungs not to be screaming in pain. Because here’s the thing. People don’t mind doing CPR on a crisis victim, but no person is equipped to be the constant lifeline to another.

We must respect ourselves enough to break the pattern of placing unrealistic expectations on others.

After all, people will not respect us more than we respect ourselves.

No, it’s not wrong to need people. But some of our biggest disappointments in life are the result of expectations we have of others that they can’t ever possibly meet. That’s when the desire to connect becomes an unrealistic need.

Unrealistic neediness is actually greediness in disguise. It’s saying, “My needs and desires deserve to tap into or possibly even deplete yours.” This will never set a relationship up for success.

Here’s the secret shift we must make:

Do I walk into situations prepared with the fullness of God in me, free to look for ways to bless others?

Or…

Do I walk into situations empty and dependent on others to look for ways to bless me?

People prepared with the fullness of God in them are not superpeople with pixie dust sparkles of confidence oozing from the pores from which normal people simply sweat.

They aren’t the ones who walk into a room with the boisterous, “Hey, hey, hey! The party can start now, because I have arrived!” And they certainly aren’t the ones who circle the room, making sure their agenda is the agenda of every conversation.

No, the fullness of God is tucked into the sacred places within them. The full taking in of God is their soul oxygen.

It’s not that they don’t need people. They do. God created them for community. But the way they love is from a full place, not from an empty desperation. They are living loved.

But living loved isn’t just their mind-set; it is a choice they make daily. It isn’t just a possible thing they should try. It’s the only solution that actually works. We have to tell our minds to live loved. But then we must also tell our flesh no.

The more we fill ourselves from His life-giving love, the less we will be dictated by the grabby-ness of the flesh.

I want this. And I suspect you do too. Being full of God’s love settles, empowers, and brings out the best of who we are. On the other hand, the more full of the flesh we are, the more we grab at anyone and anything to fill that ache for love and acceptance.

I don’t like to ache. In any way. One of my aches is from my deep Italian fondness for anything pasta. I mean for real, I love pasta, but it does not love me back. So, I have to make the choice not to risk the temporary pleasure of my taste buds for what will surely be hours of rebellion in my stomach. My flesh begs me to believe that short-term happiness is worth the long-term misery.

But I’ve discovered something about defeating the flesh. If I fill my stomach with healthy foods before being tempted with the pasta, I can say no. It’s so much easier to turn away a dish of pasta if you’re completely full already. But if you are desperately hungry, a dish of just about anything is hard to turn away. Our souls and our stomachs are alike in this way.

One of the most beautiful descriptions of the fullness of God is found in Paul’s prayer for the Ephesians:

For this reason I kneel before the Father, from whom every family in heaven and on earth derives its name. I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge — that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God. 

— Ephesians 3:14–19

My favorite part of Paul’s prayer is him asking that we have the power to grasp the fullness of the love of Christ… for then we will be filled with the fullness of God. It is impossible to grasp the fullness of God without grasping the fullness of the love of Christ.

At the core of who we are, we crave the acceptance that comes from being loved. To satisfy this longing we will either be graspers of God’s love or grabbers for people’s love.

If we grasp the full love of Christ, we won’t grab at other things to fill us. Or if we do, we’ll sense it. We’ll feel a prick in our spirit when our flesh makes frenzied swipes at happiness, compromising clutches for attention, paranoid assumptions with no facts, joyless attempts to one-up another, and small-minded statements of pride. We’ll sense these things, and we’ll be disgusted enough to at least pause. In this pause lies the greatest daily choice we can make. Am I willing to tell my flesh no, so that I can say yes to the fullness of God in this situation? Here’s where I get in trouble. And here’s where I bet you get tripped up as well.

I grasp the love of Christ.

I sense when I’m making choices that don’t reflect God’s love.

I’m disgusted by those choices.

I am willing to tell my flesh no.

I’m just not sure how to tell my flesh no.

When past rejections make me so prone to satisfying or at least numbing the flesh to avoid more pain, it’s hard to resist.

When you’re lonely and you see your ex-boyfriend post a picture with a new girl, laughing, holding hands, and looking like the happiest they’ve ever been, your flesh will want to grab at something. It’s hard not to comfort yourself by texting another guy to grab a little attention and make yourself feel better.

When you’re listening to other moms talking about all the progress their children are making in reading and your child can’t even identify letters yet, your flesh will want to grab at something. It’s hard not to throw out a statement to one-up the bragging moms in an area where your child is excelling.

When your husband isn’t answering his cell so you call his workplace only to learn he left early for the day, your flesh will want to grab at something. Paranoia seizes you, and by the time he walks in the door you all but accuse him of having an affair.

All these things we’re tempted to grab at? They won’t fill us the way we think they will. In the end, they only make us feel emptier and more rejected.

Yes, the concept of telling our flesh no can sound so good on paper, but in the midst of rejection’s painful pricks, we can often feel so very powerless. That’s where we have to know we aren’t expected to just put on a brave face and hope for the best. We have the power through Christ, who is over every power, including the pull of the flesh and the sting of rejection. When we have Christ, we are full — fully loved and accepted and empowered to say no.

This is true on the days we feel it and still true when we don’t feel Jesus’ love at all. If we live rooted and established in His love, we don’t just have knowledge of His love in our minds, but it becomes a reality that anchors us. Though winds of hurt and rejection blow, they cannot uproot us and rip us apart. His love holds us. His love grounds us. His love is a glorious weight preventing the harsh words and hurtful situations from being a destructive force. We feel the wind but aren’t destroyed by it. This is the “fullness of God” mentioned in the verses from Ephesians 3 that we just read.

There is power in really knowing this. This isn’t dependent on what you’ve accomplished. Or on another person loving you or accepting you. Nor is it because you always feel full.

You are full, because Christ brought the fullness to you.

Yes, I am fully loved, fully accepted, and fully empowered to say no to my flesh. Speak that truth in the power He’s given you. Believe that truth in the power He’s given you. Live that truth in the power He’s given you. That’s how you tell your flesh no. That’s how you live fully prepared in the fullness of God.

Excerpted from Uninvited by Lysa Terkeurst, copyright Lysa Terkeurst.

You are fully loved and fully accepted. Are you full of His love for you? Fully satisfied by Him? Being full of God’s love settles, empowers, and brings out the best of who we are. 

Gal 5:16-17
I say, walk by the Spirit, and you will not carry out the desire of the flesh.
Be filled with the Spirit…and you will not carry out the desire of the flesh.

Feed on the truth of God, His Word, His Will, His love for you … and you will be full of righteousness and have the power to say no to your fleshly desires.

Pastor Dale

 

Notes of Faith September 20, 2021

A few months after OnSite, my wife and I were on our way back from our fifteen-year wedding anniversary trip to Ireland. It was filled with lots of refreshment, but not a lot of rest. We had moments, waking up in a tiny cottage on some farm in Ireland overlooking sheep and goats grazing. There was rest in those moments, but then we would rush out to explore. The refreshing came, but you know how at the end of a good vacation, sometimes you need a vacation from the vacation? That was where we found ourselves.

We had landed in Detroit for a final layover before heading home to Nashville and had stopped at P.F. Chang’s for dinner. We had been traveling for over fifteen hours already and were basically the walking dead — zombies with little, if anything, motivating us to speak. But, for some reason, I decided to tell her a story about a guy I had met the week prior in London. He was a former atheist who told this hilarious story about playing percussion for a worship leader friend of his while shaking a banana shaker. I’ll spare you the details of the story because, come to think of it, it wasn’t really funny at all; Heather didn’t even smile. In one ear and out the other.

“Babe? You get it? A banana shaker?”

Fine. Forget it. I’m done trying to make small talk. It’s obvious we just need to get home.

I don’t know if I have ever on purpose told a story where the central theme was a banana. Maybe a knock-knock joke in third grade where the punch line was “Orange you glad I didn’t say banana?” But that’s it. And that was thirty years ago.

I finished the banana story and Heather did not laugh. Then she cracked open her fortune cookie. Her eyes got huge.

“What is it? Good fortune?” I asked.

She flipped the fortune over so I could read it. There was only one word written on it: Banana.

We both started laughing that sort of incredibly annoying public laughter.

How many fortune cookies carry a fortune that simply say banana? It said banana.

I started having a worship moment right then and there. I almost stood to my feet and led the entire restaurant in “Oceans.” God is here, I thought. He just gave me a fortune with the word banana!

“He’s reminding us that He is in the ordinary. He is paying attention. He’s playful,” Heather said. I mean there it is. Do you believe it? I do! God is in the ordinary, everyday moments of life. We just have to be rested or refreshed enough to be able to hear Him!

Then I cracked my cookie open. The author of the smashing breakthrough book Moment Maker opened his cookie. (It had been a year since its release.) It had one word on it:

Moment.

Are you serious?

Coincidence over. God obviously was laughing with me. He is in the ordinary. I mean, God was hanging out in my fortune cookie, just smiling at me as I sat in amazement.

So if God is in the ordinary — the everyday — then why have I not been taught this? If God still speaks so clearly, why have I missed it? I used to think this stuff was crazy.

Bananas, if you will.

God is for sure in the majestic, yes. God sometimes shows up in a blaze of glory. But God is also surrounding us in conversation every single day. We just don’t recognize Him.

We believe in a God who can heal our cancer and raise the dead, but we don’t believe we can ask Him for something trivial? This places us in a conundrum. We have to stop thinking God is only in the sky and the heavens. He’s in our cars, in our homes, and in our cafes. We have to pay attention. We get to rest in that truth and keep our eyes open and our hearts attentive.

Over and over again, God keeps showing up like that. Over and over again, He kept showing up to me when I would seek Him. I’d ask Him a question, and He would lead me to a Scripture that answered me specifically. All of a sudden, my relationship with God was getting way more detailed than I ever thought it could be.

Not long after the banana incident, I found myself in London, England. I was there for a conference but had landed a day early so that I could write.

I had managed to have a fairly drama-free existence since OnSite. I was growing in my relationship with God, I was growing in my roles as husband, father, and friend, but I still had not come face to face with this spider. I was almost running from the battle. I knew where to look, but I didn’t wanna.

One can only run so long.

My lie. God had abandoned me.

That lie had sent me to some of the darkest places I had ever been. That lie had destroyed my marriage. That lie had caused more anxiety in my life than anyone should have to deal with. But in the newness of my fresh faith, I had uncovered some solid truths about God’s power over darkness and how He does and will come to our rescue when we need it. We simply have to ask Him. He has given us authority.

When I landed in London, I got a call from Heather. Something was wrong with one of the kids, and she didn’t know what to do. The second I heard concern in her voice, I could feel the blood rushing from my limbs to my heart. I could feel my heart rapidly rise up in my throat. “I’m coming home, Babe. I can’t be here and helpless. I’m coming home on the next flight,” I said in a panic.

“No. Don’t. Talk to Jesus. Ask Him what to do,” she said with a peace that my heart needed at the moment.

“Dear Jesus. I’m done being scared, Jesus. Please Jesus. I feel so alone. Where are You Lord?! Why is this happening to my family, Jesus? Dear Lord, please. Please help.”

That was the sort of snot-filled prayer that was escaping my lungs. The sort of prayer that isn’t filled with faith as much as it’s filled with doubt. And in my case, doubt that God had abandoned my family. Again.

Right there. It hit me. My mind went rushing back to OnSite.

My mind went rushing back to how and when I found God again. Maybe, just maybe He was right there then too.

Maybe I was not alone. Dear Lord, I thought I was done with this!

I cried myself to sleep. When I woke up, it was dark outside.

I had slept my afternoon away. I was supposed to be writing my book. I was supposed to be writing my book helping people kill their spiders and there I was, lying in the middle of a cobweb so thick I didn’t know how to get out of it.

A final word: Be strong in the Lord and in His mighty power. Put on all of God’s armor so that you will be able to stand firm against all strategies of the devil. For we are not fighting against flesh-and-blood enemies, but against evil rulers and authorities of the unseen world, against mighty powers in this dark world, and against evil spirits in the heavenly places.

Therefore, put on every piece of God’s armor so you will be able to resist the enemy in the time of evil. Then after the battle you will still be standing firm. Stand your ground, putting on the belt of truth and the body armor of God’s righteousness. For shoes, put on the peace that comes from the Good News so that you will be fully prepared.

In addition to all of these, hold up the shield of faith to stop the fiery arrows of the devil. Put on salvation as your helmet, and take the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.

Pray in the Spirit at all times and on every occasion. Stay alert and be persistent in your prayers for all believers everywhere. — Ephesians 6:10-18 NLT

“Then after the battle you will be standing firm.”

Man, I needed this like yesterday. I felt anything but firm.

The author of this book was talking about the power that the name of Jesus has. In so many prayers we tack on, right before Amen, “In the name of Jesus.” It’s almost become an afterthought. But the author was reminding us of the true power —that the God who makes the earth spin and float, that God, gives us His authority and power. It’s just up to us to use it. The author called up this passage.

At that time you won’t need to ask me for anything. I tell you the truth, you will ask the Father directly, and he will grant your request because you use my name.

You haven’t done this before. Ask, using my name, and you will receive, and you will have abundant joy.

— John 16:23–24 NLT

I needed Jesus to come into that tiny hotel room right then. I was desperate.

I picked up my Bible and the book I had been reading and started praying out loud exactly as it was laid out.

“True and living God, Jesus, I come to You to be made new in You again. I come to You to be brought back to the truth of who You are. That lie that You had left? I know for sure it is a complete and total lie from the enemy and I reject it. Forgive me. By the cross of Jesus Christ, I bring the full work of the cross against this lie. Jesus, I want Your voice to be the only voice to speak into this space. Lord, freedom and the breaking of my agreement with this lie will only come from You. Jesus, cut off, bind, and send the spider and all webs created by this spider to the foot of the cross for You to deal with as You wish. I send it to You, Jesus. Do with it as You please. Come now, Jesus, come rushing into the chasm in my heart that this lie was trying to fill. Let the truth of You and the light of You come and fill the space that feeling of abandonment left vacant. Dear Jesus, show me truth. Replace the hole in my spirit with the truth of my marriage, my wife, my children, my ministry, my life. Jesus, fill this broken and empty space in my heart. In the name of Jesus Christ, I pray. Amen.”

And then I started sending anything that was attacking me mentally, physically, and spiritually to the foot of the cross. I was using the power and authority of Jesus to send that crap away. I was fighting. I was swinging.

By this point, I found myself in the shower. Weeping and praying.

Confessing. Renouncing. Rejecting. Replacing. Confessing. Renouncing. Rejecting. Replacing. Confessing. Renouncing. Rejecting. Replacing.
That was it. It was done. There was no more power in the lie. My spider had me no more. The spider was dead. Was it magic? No. Was it a one-time prayer? No. Did striving produce results? No. Did Jesus absolutely take my prayer and begin to deal with this spider, crushing it and sending it into the abyss of His judgment? Absolutely.

Excerpted from Kill the Spider by Carlos Whittaker, copyright Carlos Enrique Whittaker.

What spiders do you still need to kill? You can only run for so long. Face them with Jesus!

Pastor Dale 

 

Notes of Faith September 19, 2021

The Bible contains promises for every problem and a word of assurance for every need. When faced with anger or anxiety, we can always find a word from God to nudge us onward and upward — if only we’ll open His Book. That’s what Darlene Zschech did one dark day in 1993.

Darlene was born in 1965 in Brisbane, Australia, and she grew up singing. When she was about fifteen, her father, who had recently given his life to Christ, enrolled her in a Christian scouting program; and through that program she received Jesus Christ as her Savior.

Years later, one day in 1993, Darlene faced a daunting and discouraging personal problem. In her heaviness, she entered the study of her home and sat at the old and out-of-tune piano her parents had given her when she was five.

Opening her Bible, she started reading Psalm 96.

As Darlene meditated on that psalm, her fingers pressed the keys of the piano, and the music and words began to flow. In about twenty minutes the song was done. For several days she sang it to herself as the truths of the song ministered to her own heart. She had not previously called herself a songwriter, so Darlene was reluctant to share it with anyone. But mustering her courage, she finally asked the music pastor at her church to listen to it. She was so nervous she kept stopping and apologizing. She even asked him to stand over by the wall and turn away from her while she sang it.

He assured her the song was wonderful, and shortly afterward they sang “Shout to the Lord” during the offering at church. The congregation took to it quickly, standing and joining in the song, though the words hadn’t been prepared for bulletin or screen. Darlene’s pastor, Brian Houston, predicted it would be sung around the world.

And so it has.

Verse of the Week

Sing to the Lord a new song;
sing to the Lord, all the earth.

Sing to the Lord, praise His name;
proclaim His salvation day after day.

— Psalm 96:1–2 NIV

Darlene Zschech wrote “Shout to the Lord” while feeling discouraged and sad. How does singing it make you feel?

The psalms inspired Zschech’s lyrics, especially Psalm 96.

What does Psalm 100:1 say?

Consider this line: “All of my days / I want to praise.” Desire (“want”) often determines whether or not we praise God.

What happens when you don’t really want to, but you do it anyway?

What does Philippians 2:9-11 say about the sound of the name of Jesus?

Give ear to my words, O Lord,

Consider my meditation.
Give heed to the voice of my cry,

My King and my God,

For to You I will pray.
My voice You shall hear in the morning,

O Lord; In the morning I will direct it to You,
And I will look up.

Amen.

—Psalm 5:1–3 NKJV

Excerpted from Then Sings My Soul Prayer Journal by Robert Morgan, copyright Robert J. Morgan.

Can you make a joyful noise to the Lord this morning?  Are you ready to shout and sing to Him even when you don’t feel like it?  Make this morning a morning of praise, whether you sing gloriously or croak with the frogs – Praise the Lord!

Pastor Dale

 

Notes of Faith September 18, 2021

Adventure, with all its requisite danger and wildness, is a deeply spiritual longing written into the soul of man. The masculine heart needs a place where nothing is prefabricated, modular, nonfat, zip lock, franchised, on-line, microwavable. Where there are no deadlines, cell phones, or committee meetings. Where there is room for the soul.

Where, finally, the geography around us corresponds to the geography of our heart.

Look at the heroes of the biblical text: Moses does not encounter the living God at the mall. He finds him (or is found by him) somewhere out in the deserts of Sinai, a long way from the comforts of Egypt. The same is true of Jacob, who has his wrestling match with God not on the living room sofa but in a wadi somewhere east of the Jabbok, in Mesopotamia. Where did the great prophet Elijah go to recover his strength? To the wild. As did John the Baptist, and his cousin, Jesus, who is led by the Spirit into the wilderness.

Whatever else those explorers were after, they were also searching for themselves. Deep in a man’s heart are some fundamental questions that simply cannot be answered at the kitchen table.

Who am I? What am I made of? What am I destined for?

It is fear that keeps a man at home where things are neat and orderly and under his control. But the answers to his deepest questions are not to be found on television or in the refrigerator. Out there on the burning desert sands, lost in a trackless waste, Moses received his life’s mission and purpose. He is called out, called up into something much bigger than he ever imagined, much more serious than CEO or “prince of Egypt.” Under foreign stars, in the dead of night, Jacob received a new name, his real name. No longer is he a shrewd business negotiator, but now he is one who wrestles with God. The wilderness trial of Christ is, at its core, a test of His identity. “If you are who you think you are…” If a man is ever to find out who he is and what he’s here for, he has got to take that journey for himself.

He has got to get his heart back.

Westward Expansion Against the Soul

The way a man’s life unfolds nowadays tends to drive his heart into remote regions of the soul. Endless hours at a computer screen; selling shoes at the mall; meetings, memos, phone calls. The business world — where the majority of American men live and die — requires a man to be efficient and punctual. Corporate policies and procedures are designed with one aim: to harness a man to the plow and make him produce. But the soul refuses to be harnessed; it knows nothing of Day Timers and deadlines and P&L statements. The soul longs for passion, for freedom, for life.

As D. H. Lawrence said, “I am not a mechanism.” A man needs to feel the rhythms of the earth; he needs to have in hand something real — the tiller of a boat, a set of reins, the roughness of rope, or simply a shovel. Can a man live all his days to keep his fingernails clean and trim? Is that what a boy dreams of?

Society at large can’t make up its mind about men. Having spent the last thirty years redefining masculinity into something more sensitive, safe, manageable and, well, feminine, it now berates men for not being men. Boys will be boys, they sigh. As though if a man were to truly grow up he would forsake wilderness and wanderlust and settle down, be at home forever in Aunt Polly’s parlor. “Where are all the real men?” is regular fare for talk shows and new books. You asked them to be women, I want to say. The result is a gender confusion never experienced at such a wide level in the history of the world.

How can a man know he is one when his highest aim is minding his manners?

And then, alas, there is the church. Christianity, as it currently exists, has done damage to masculinity. When all is said and done, I think most men in the church believe that God put them on the earth to be a good boy. The problem with men, we are told, is that they don’t know how to keep their promises, be spiritual leaders, talk to their wives, or raise their children. But, if they will try real hard they can reach the lofty summit of becoming… a nice guy. That’s what we hold up as models of Christian maturity: Really Nice Guys. We don’t smoke, drink, or swear; that’s what makes us men.

Now let me ask my male readers: in all your boyhood dreams growing up, did you ever dream of becoming a Nice Guy? (Ladies, was the prince of your dreams dashing… or merely nice?)

Really now — do I overstate my case? Walk into most churches in America, have a look around, and ask yourself this question: What is a Christian man? Don’t listen to what is said, look at what you find there. There is no doubt about it. You’d have to admit a Christian man is… bored. At a recent church retreat I was talking with a guy in his fifties, listening really, about his own journey as a man. “I’ve pretty much tried for the last twenty years to be a good man as the church defines it.” Intrigued, I asked him to say what he thought that was. He paused for a long moment. “Dutiful,” he said. “And separated from his heart.” A perfect description, I thought. Sadly right on the mark.

As Robert Bly laments in Iron John, “Some women want a passive man if they want a man at all; the church wants a tamed man — they are called priests; the university wants a domesticated man—they are called tenure-track people; the corporation wants a… sanitized, hairless, shallow man.” It all comes together as a sort of westward expansion against the masculine soul. And thus the heart of a man is driven into the high country, into remote places, like a wounded animal looking for cover. Women know this, and lament that they have no access to their man’s heart. Men know it, too, but are often unable to explain why their heart is missing.

They know their heart is on the run, but they often do not know where to pick up the trail. The church wags its head and wonders why it can’t get more men to sign up for its programs. The answer is simply this: we have not invited a man to know and live from his deep heart.

An Invitation

But God made the masculine heart, set it within every man, and thereby offers him an invitation:

Come, and live out what I meant you to be.

Permit me to bypass the entire nature vs. nurture “is gender really built-in?” debate with one simple observation: men and women are made in the image of God as men or as women.

So God created man in His own image, in the image of God He created Him; male and female He created them. — Genesis 1:27

Male and female. Now, we know God doesn’t have a body, so the uniqueness can’t be physical. Gender simply must be at the level of the soul, in the deep and everlasting places within us. God doesn’t make generic people; He makes something very distinct — a man or a woman. In other words, there is a masculine heart and a feminine heart, which in their own ways reflect or portray to the world God’s heart.

God meant something when He meant man, and if we are to ever find ourselves we must find that. What has He set in the masculine heart? Instead of asking what you think you ought to do to become a better man (or woman, for my female readers), I want to ask, What makes you come alive? What stirs your heart? The journey we face now is into a land foreign to most of us. We must head into country that has no clear trail. This charter for exploration takes us into our own hearts, into our deepest desires.

There are three desires I find written so deeply into my heart I know now I can no longer disregard them without losing my soul. They are core to who and what I am and yearn to be. I gaze into boyhood, I search the pages of Scripture, of literature, I listen carefully to many, many men, and I am convinced these desires are universal, a clue into masculinity itself. They may be misplaced, forgotten, or misdirected, but in the heart of every man is a desperate desire for a battle to fight, an adventure to live, and a beauty to rescue.

Excerpted with permission from Wild at Heart: Discovering the Secret of a Man’s Soul by John Eldredge, copyright Thomas Nelson.

The “sinful” world has changed mankind.  Man does not act like God intended and thinks through lenses of his culture and society that all is well.  All is certainly not well because man/men were meant to be the spiritual leaders of family, society, and culture.  To those that can still hear God speak to their heart I pray you will stand up, stand out, stand firm in the truth and lead as God intended.

Pastor Dale

 

Notes of Faith September 17, 2021

Today’s devotion is from Levi Lusko’s new devotional, Roar Like a Lion, for kids aged 6-10. Feel free to share this with your young friends and forward to moms and dads you love!

Do what is right to other people. Love being kind to others. And live humbly, trusting your God. — Micah 6:8 ICB

Have you heard the saying “You do you”? It’s pretty popular these days. It means you should do your own thing — whatever makes you happy. Of course, that also means that everyone else should be free to do their own thing — whatever makes them happy. Sounds good, right?

What if the thing that makes you happy makes someone else unhappy?

Or whatever makes someone else happy leaves you feeling hurt? That definitely doesn’t sound so good. God has a much better plan.

Instead of you do you, God says you should do what’s right for others.

What does that mean? An awesome verse in the little book of Micah sums it up for us: “Do what is right to other people.

Love being kind to others. And live humbly, trusting your God” (Micah 6:8 ICB). Because, as it turns out, living the way God wants you to isn’t about you at all. It’s about God, and it’s about others. You see, God created you to show everyone around you how amazing and full of love He is. The best way to do that is to treat everyone the way God treats you — with lots of love and kindness.

So instead of ignoring your brother, let him play the video game with you. Instead of interrupting your friends to talk about what you want to talk about, listen and show interest in what they care about. Help your dad put away the groceries, and offer to help your mom make dinner.

Get out there and show the world how awesome God really is!

GET READY TO ROAR!

Micah 6:8 gives us three ways to live for God. Today, let’s work on kindness. Who can you be extra-kind to today?

Maybe include your little brother or sister in a game with your friends, or let them ride in the best seat in the car — even if you already called it. Offer to bring in the mail for an older neighbor. Or be kind to your community by picking up litter. How many kind things can you do today?

Lord, teach me to be who You created me to be so I can do what is right, be kind, and trust in You. Amen.

Excerpted from Roar Like a Lion by Levi Lusko, copyright Levi Lusko.

Are you ready to roar? Kindness, helping, and considering others first shows them the love of Jesus! Go out and roar today!

Pastor Dale

Notes of Faith September 16, 2021

Why don’t men play the man? Why don’t they offer their strength to a world desperately in need of it?

For two simple reasons: we doubt very much that we have any real strength to offer, and we’re pretty certain that if we did offer what we have it wouldn’t be enough.

Something has gone wrong and we know it.

What Is a Man For?

Why does God create Adam? What is a man for?

Adam and all his sons after him are given an incredible mission: rule and subdue, be fruitful and multiply. “Here is the entire earth, Adam. Explore it, cultivate it, care for it – it is your kingdom.” Whoa… talk about an invitation.

The secret longing of your heart, whether it’s to build a boat and sail it, to write a symphony and play it, to plant a field and care for it – those are the things you were made to do.

That’s what you’re here for.

Explore, build, conquer – you don’t have to tell a boy to do those things for the simple reason that it is his purpose. But it’s going to take risk, and danger, and there’s the catch. Are we willing to live with the level of risk God invites us to?

Something inside us hesitates.

Let’s take another desire – why does a man long for a battle to fight? Because when we enter the story in Genesis, we step into a world at war. The lines have already been drawn. Evil is waiting to make its next move. Somewhere back before Eden, in the mystery of eternity past, there was a coup, a rebellion, an assassination attempt. Lucifer, the prince of angels, the captain of the guard, rebelled against the Trinity. He tried to take the throne of heaven by force, assisted by a third of the angelic army, in whom he instilled his own malice. They failed, and were hurled from the presence of the Trinity. But they were not destroyed, and the battle is not over. God now has an enemy… and so do we.

Man is not born into a sitcom or a soap opera; he is born into a world at war. This is not Home Improvement; it’s Saving Private Ryan. There will be many, many battles to fight on many different battlefields.

And finally, why does Adam long for a beauty to rescue? Because there is Eve. He is going to need her, and she is going to need him.

In fact, Adam’s first and greatest battle is just about to break out, as a battle for Eve. But let me set the stage a bit more.

Before Eve is drawn from Adam’s side and leaves that ache that never goes away until he is with her, God gives Adam some instructions on the care of creation, and his role in the unfolding story. It’s pretty basic, and very generous.

You may freely eat any fruit in the garden except fruit from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. 

—  Genesis 2:16-17

Okay, most of us have heard about that. But notice what God doesn’t tell Adam. There is no warning or instruction over what is about to occur: the Temptation of Eve. This is just staggering. He doesn’t tell him. Good grief – why not?! Because God believes in Adam. This is what he’s designed to do – to come through in a pinch. Adam doesn’t need play-by-play instructions because this is what Adam is created for. It’s already there, everything he needs, in his design, in his heart.

Needless to say, the story doesn’t go well. Adam fails; he fails Eve, and the rest of humanity. Let me ask you a question: Where is Adam, while the serpent is tempting Eve? He’s standing right there:

She also gave some to her husband, who was with her. Then he ate it, too. —  Genesis 3:6

The Hebrew for “with her” means right there, elbow to elbow. Adam isn’t away in another part of the forest; he has no alibi. He is standing right there, watching the whole thing unravel. What does he do? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. He says not a word, doesn’t lift a finger. He won’t risk, he won’t fight, and he won’t rescue Eve.

Our first father – the first real man – gave in to paralysis. He denied his very nature and went passive. And every man after him, every son of Adam, carries in his heart now the same failure. Every man repeats the sin of Adam, every day. We won’t risk, we won’t fight, and we won’t rescue Eve. We truly are a chip off the old block.

Lest we neglect Eve, I must point out that she fails her design as well. Eve is given to Adam as his ezer kenegdo – Eve is a life giver; she is Adam’s ally. It is to both of them that the charter for adventure is given. It will take both of them to sustain life. And they will both need to fight together.

Eve is deceived… No longer is she vulnerable; now she will be grasping. No longer does she want simply to share in the adventure; now, she wants to control it. And as for her beauty, she either hides it in fear and anger, or she uses it to secure her place in the world. Fallen Eve either becomes rigid or clingy.

Put simply, Eve is no longer simply inviting. She is either hiding in busyness or demanding that Adam come through for her; usually, an odd combination of both.

Posers Pretending Strength

Adam knows now that he has blown it, that something has gone wrong within him, that he is no longer what he was meant to be. Adam doesn’t just make a bad decision; he gives away something essential to his nature. He is marred now, his strength is fallen, and he knows it. Then what happens? Adam hides.

I was afraid because I was naked; so I hid. — Genesis 3:10

You don’t need a course in psychology to understand men.

Understand that verse, let its implications sink in, and the men around you will suddenly come into focus. We are hiding, every last one of us. Well aware that we, too, are not what we were meant to be, desperately afraid of exposure, terrified of being seen for what we are and are not, we have run off into the bushes. We hide in our office, at the gym, behind the newspaper and mostly behind our personality.

Most of what you encounter when you meet a man is a facade, an elaborate fig leaf, a brilliant disguise.

Driving back from dinner one night, a friend and I were just sort of shooting the breeze about life and marriage and work. As the conversation deepened, he began to admit some of the struggles he was having. Then he came out with this confession: “The truth is, John, I feel like I’m just [bluffing] my way through life… and that someday soon I’ll be exposed as an impostor.” I was so surprised. This is a popular, successful guy who most people like the moment they meet him. He’s bright, articulate, handsome, and athletic. He’s married to a beautiful woman, has a great job, drives a new truck, and lives in a big house. There is nothing on the outside that says, “not really a man.” But inside, it’s another story. It always is.

“Any day now, I’ll be found out” is a pretty common theme among us guys. Truth be told, most of us are faking our way through life. We pick only those battles we are sure to win, only those adventures we are sure to handle, only those beauties we are sure to rescue.

A few years ago I volunteered to coach for my son’s baseball team. There was a mandatory meeting that all coaches needed to attend before the season, to pick up equipment and listen to a “briefing.” Their “attitude” (that’s a tame word) was so thick I needed waders. It was the biggest bunch of posers I’ve ever met… outside of church.

Strength Gone Bad

Adam falls, and all his sons with him. After that, what do you see as the story unfolds? Violent men, or passive men.

Strength gone bad. Cain kills Abel; Lamech threatens to kill everybody else. God finally floods the earth because of the violence of men, but it’s still going on. Sometimes it gets physical; most of the time, it’s verbal.

I know Christian men who say the most awful things to their wives. Or they kill them with their silence; a cold, deadly silence. I know pastors, warm and friendly guys in the pulpit, who from the safety of their office send out blistering e-mails to their staff. It’s cowardice, all of it. I was intrigued to read in the journals of civil war commanders how the men you thought would be real heroes end up just the opposite.

“Roughs that are always ready for street fighting are cowards on the open battlefield,” declared one corporal. A sergeant from the same division agreed: “I don’t know of a single fist-fighting bully but what he makes a cowardly soldier.”

The violence, no matter what form, is a cover-up for fear.

What about the achievers, the men running hard at life, pressing their way ahead? Most of it is fear-based as well. Not all of it, but most of it. For years, I was a driven, type A, hard-charging perfectionist. I demanded a lot of myself and of those who worked for me. My wife didn’t like to call me at work, for as she said, “You have your work voice on.” In other words, your fig leaf is showing. All that swaggering and supposed confidence and hard charging came out of fear – the fear that if I did not, I would be revealed to be less than a man. Never let down, never drop your guard, give 150 percent.

Achievers are a socially acceptable form of violent men, overdoing it in one way or another. Their casualties tend to be their marriages, their families, and their health. Until a man faces this honestly, and what’s really behind it, he’ll do great damage.

Then there’s the passive men. Abraham is a good example.

He’s always hiding behind his wife’s skirt when the going gets rough. Abraham is a good man, a friend of God. But he’s also a coward. I know many like him. Men who can’t commit to the women they’ve been dragging along for years. Men who won’t stand up to the pastor and tell him what they really think. Pastors and Christian leaders who hide behind the fig leaf of niceness and “spirituality” and never, ever confront a difficult situation. Guys who organize their paper clips. Men who hide behind the newspaper or the television and won’t really talk to their wives or children.

The evidence is clear: Adam and Eve’s fall sent a tremor through the human race. A fatal flaw entered the original, and it’s been passed on to every son and daughter.

Thus every little boy and every little girl comes into the world set up for a loss of heart. Even if he can’t quite put it into words, every man is haunted by the question, “Am I really a man? Have I got what it takes… when it counts?”

Excerpted from Wild at Heart: Discovering the Secret of a Man’s Soul by John Eldredge, copyright Thomas Nelson.

Men, do you question whether or not you have the strength it takes? Are you willing to live with the level of risk God invites us to and enter the adventure with Him, leaning fully into intimacy in relationship with Him for the strength that we need?

Pastor Dale