Notes of Faith June 11, 2022

The longing for things to be good again is one of the deepest yearnings of the human heart. It has slumbered in the depths of our souls ever since we lost our true home. For our hearts remember Eden.

 

Most of the time this beautiful, powerful longing flows like an underground river below the surface of our awareness — so long as we are consoled by some measure of goodness in our lives. While we are enjoying our work, our family, our adventures, or the little pleasures of this world, the longing for things to be good again seems to be placated.

 

But when trials and heartbreaks wash in, the longing rises to the surface like a whale coming up for air, filled with momentum and force. This is especially true after times of severe testing, because during the testing we are rallying. But when the storm subsides, the longing for things to be good again rises up to demand relief.

 

How we shepherd this longing — so crucial to our identity and the true life of our heart — how we listen to it but also guide it in right or wrong directions, this determines our fate.

 

God has given each human soul a capacity and drive, a primal aspiration for life. This is as fundamental to you as your own survival.

 

The epicenter of our being is the deep longing to aspire for things that bring us life, to plan for those things, to take hold of them, to enjoy them, and start the cycle over as we aspire toward new things! This is the essential craving for life given to us by God. Let’s call this capacity the Primal Drive for Life.

 

Our Primal Drive for Life has taken a real beating over the past few years.

 

It isn’t only the pandemic. We were all running like rats on a wheel before 2020 — addicted to technology, overwhelmed by global news, wrung out from social tensions, exhausted body and soul from the madness of modern life. We were set up to be steamrolled by the pandemic. Then came the repeated cycles of fear, control, chronic disappointment, all those losses great and small, the inability to make plans for the future.

 

God wants to make His life available to you

I know, I know — most of you think that what you need right now is three months at the coast. Walking on the beach, drinks on the deck, and with all my heart I hope you find that. But

 

for most of us, a sabbatical in some gorgeous refuge is not available. What is available is the River of Life, God Himself, in ways we have not yet tapped into.

 

God wants to make His life available to you. Remember — He’s the creator of those beautiful places you wish you could go to for a sabbatical. All that beauty and resilience, all that life comes from God, and He wants to impart a greater measure of Himself to you! The life of God is described in Scripture as a river — a powerful, gorgeous, unceasing, ever-renewing, ever-flowing river.

 

Ezekiel was given a number of beautiful visions, glimpses into the kingdom of God that permeates this world. He saw the temple of God in Jerusalem, and out of the temple was flowing the River of Life. As it flowed forth across the countryside, it became so deep and wide it wasn’t possible to swim across it — an image of abundance! I love how the passage ends:

 

Where the river flows everything will live. — Ezekiel 47:9

 

Everything will live. This is what we want — to live, to find life in its fullness again.

 

There is so much life flowing from God that it flows like a mighty river. Isn’t that marvelous? Follow me now — the River of Life is not just for later. Jesus stated clearly that the river is meant to flow out of our inner being right here, in this life:

 

Let anyone who is thirsty come to Me and drink. Whoever believes in Me, as Scripture has said, rivers of living water will flow from within them.

— John 7:37–38

 

The mighty life of God flowing in you and through you, saturating you like a river.

 

In order to tap into the River of Life, we begin by loving God in our longing for life to be good again. That’s where things are decided. Nearly all of us have been chasing relief in a myriad of hopes, plans, and dreams without first turning to God. So we need to enter the longing, feel it, become present to it, and in that place start loving God. Choose Him.

 

Our first step toward resilience is to return our Primal Drive for Life and our longing for things to be good again to God; we come back to Jesus from all other places we’ve been chasing life. We ask God to fill us with the river of His life.

 

Jesus, I come back to You now in my longing for life to be good again. I love You here, Lord, in my soul’s longings, desires, and heartaches. I consecrate to You my Primal Drive for Life. I surrender to You my ability to aspire for good things, plan for them, take hold of them, enjoy them, and keep on aspiring. I consecrate all living in me to You, Lord Jesus; I give you my famished craving for life to be good again. I love You here. I love You right here. And now I ask that the river of Your life would flow in me, in my Primal Drive for Life and in my longing for life to be good again. I open my heart and soul to the river of life. Let it flow in me, through me, and all around me — restoring, renewing, and healing me. You alone are the life I seek, and I welcome Your river into my heart and soul; I receive the river of Your life in me. Thank You, God! In Your mighty name I pray.

 

Give this simple prayer, asking for the River of Life, a try for one week; you’ll see.

 

Written for Devotionals Daily by John Eldredge, author of Resilient.

 

We do need more of God.  More of His presence through prayer, more of His love and power through His Word, more of our praise through worship.  Let the river flow!

 

More of you, more of you

I've had it all, but what I need is more of you

 

Pastor Dale

Notes of Faith June 10, 2022

Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross. — Hebrews 12:1-2

 

In recovery we hear that “hurt people, hurt people.” We’ve all experienced this, and sometimes, we see it happen to others. It’s heartbreaking. School shootings, for example, are a grotesque display of true evil that has brought heartbreak and pain to so many lives. How are we to deal with such deep pain? Where is the hope in a tragedy such as this?

 

The answer is that

we have no hope apart from Christ.

 

Without Him, such tragedies just spawn more hurting people who go on to lash out at others in a futile effort to quench their own pain. Jesus is the only source of comfort and light capable of guiding us through our pain to a better place.

 

When our hearts are breaking and we have questions swirling around in our heads — questions we fear have no answers — God invites us to come and talk it out with Him. Many of the answers may be past our comprehension, but knowing the answers are safe with Him allows us to hand our questions — burdens too great for us to bear — over to Him. God cares about everything that concerns us, everything that grieves our hearts. In the midst of the darkness, He is our hope, the one we can trust.

 

Prayer

 

Lord, my heart is breaking as I see hurting people hurting people all around me. Help me to leave my unanswered questions with you. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

 

*

 

 

 

In the midst of the darkness, Jesus is our hope

A Picture of Redemption

 

If you do what is right, will not you be accepted? But if you do not do what is right, sin is crouching at your door; it desires to have you, but you must master it. — Genesis 4:7

 

Every once in a while God gives us the chance to witness a miracle! Recently, a leader in Celebrate Recovery shared this miracle with me: “A year ago a man walked into my office, broken, at his wit’s end, with a heart full of despair. He was angry and trying to cope with a host of substances and other unhealthy habits that were destroying his mind and hardening his heart. He was ready to abandon his wife and family. Last night I saw this man again at a Celebrate Recovery graduation service. Now, eleven months sober, he is a completely different man.

 

“With tears in his eyes, he accepted his 12-Step chip and then expressed his love for his wife who was sitting close by. I was humbled as I heard him talk about the restoration that had come to his marriage and how his kids are rejoicing and talking about God. He then quoted the following Bible passage, changing you to I:

 

If I do what is right, will I not be accepted? But if I do not do what is right, sin is crouching at my door; it desires to have me, but I must master it.’

 

“The man I met a year ago is no more. In his place, a new leader has been born. That’s what I call a true miracle — the transformation of a human life.”

 

Prayer

 

Dear God of miracles, I stand in awe of what You have done in so many lives. My words cannot express Your greatness. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

 

Excerpted from Celebrate Recovery Devotional by John Baker, Johnny Baker, and Mac Owens, copyright John Baker, Johnny Baker, and Mac Owens.

 

Even though I have not experienced the struggles of alcohol or drugs to this kind of extreme, I do have the same kind of hope in Jesus for the sins I do commit!

 

Pastor Dale

Notes of Faith June 9, 2022

Article by Vaneetha Rendall Risner
Regular Contributor

 

Waiting for the Lord.

Hoping in his word.

Watching for the morning.

 

Those phrases from Psalm 130 still bring me to tears. They describe how I lived for years, after my once-comfortable life dissolved in front of me. I waited, hoped, and watched for life to be good again.

 

I wanted the wait to be over quickly so my life could return to normal and I could move on. But those years taught me that in God’s hands, waiting is not a meaningless pause, an empty space to be rushed past. No, waiting has a purpose, much deeper and more refining than I ever would have imagined.

 

Songs That Taught Me Stillness

The psalms showed me how to wait. In my desperate longing, I read them over and over and over again. They gave me words when I had none. They gave me hope when hope was gone. They taught my heart how to trust God even in my darkest hours.

 

The psalms named the ache in my waiting and gave me words I could offer to God. Through the psalms, I learned that waiting is a holy exercise, one that requires my full attention. I learned stillness and silence, hope, patience, and trust.

 

Stillness (Psalm 37:7) and silence (Psalm 62:5) let me hear from God, without the noise of technology and the chatter of people vying for my attention. God’s still small voice spoke to my inner being when I intentionally stopped and listened. I wanted to be busy while I waited, to distract myself from the pain of the present empty moment and my overwhelming longings, but God invited me to bring those longings to him instead. Instead of busyness, I found my rest in him. Instead of distraction, my eyes and ears fixed on him.

 

Waiting patiently for the Lord (Psalm 40:1) is a common theme in the psalms. In those years of waiting, I was often impatient, ready to move on and move past my pain. If impatience is being discontent with the present moment, then patience is embracing the present and letting God meet me in it. I can enter into a holy experience with God in the deepest pain as I breathe in and out his presence. When all I had to hold onto was his presence and his promises, I discovered that he was and is more than enough.

 

God Works in Our Waiting

The psalms also showed me what God was doing in my waiting. They pointed me to the goodness and grace of God as the psalmists put their hope in him even when everything was falling apart. Sometimes I’ve received what I was waiting for, and the psalms have taught me to look back with gratitude for God’s kindness. Other times, God has not given me what I asked for, and the psalms have taught me to be equally, if not more, grateful for how God met me and transformed me.

 

At times, I have mistakenly assumed that nothing is happening in my waiting. Yet God works in our waiting, answering both spoken and unspoken requests, molding us into his likeness. He is preparing us for his work and teaching us his ways.

 

“God works in our waiting, answering both spoken and unspoken requests, molding us into his likeness.”

In our waiting, God is growing our roots. I once transplanted a beloved camellia bush only to put it in a spot with too much sun. It was quickly scorched by the heat of summer. I cut the bare twigs down in the fall, convinced the plant was dead. But over the winter, its roots expanded; what we thought was dead was teeming with life about to emerge. In the spring, green leaves sprouted at the base and our bush came back to life.

 

That’s a picture of what happens in our waiting. Life looks dormant on the surface, but God is strengthening and expanding our root system to tap into his streams of living water. When we turn to God, we become stronger and more confident in God because of our wait.

 

More Than the Morning

Finally, the psalms taught me what I was waiting for. I was not waiting for a particular outcome, though I initially thought so. I was waiting for God himself. At first, I was waiting for clarity or direction, the answer to my questions and an outcome for which I had long prayed. But just as Job discovered, the answers to my deepest questions were found in the person and character of God himself.

 

While we wait, we are not just biding our time, hoping that life will eventually change. We’re putting our hope in the one who will never disappoint. We wait for the Lord, hope in his word, and watch for the morning.

 

I learned so much about God through seemingly endless dark years as I watched for the morning. Psalm 30:5 says, “Weeping may tarry for the night, but joy comes with the morning,” but my weeping lasted more than a night, more than a thousand nights, before I saw the night slowly give way to dawn.

 

At first, all I wanted were glimmers of light indicating my prayers were answered and the wait was over. I was waiting for the outcome I wanted, or at least for an indication of where life was headed. Was life going to get better, or would it continue to deteriorate? Would I get what I’d earnestly prayed for, or would God’s answer be no? I wanted to know which outcome to put my hope in.

 

That’s when I learned that my hope wasn’t in an outcome. It was in God alone. I needed to trust in the goodness of God and lean into him as I waited. I wasn’t watching and waiting for the morning; I was watching and waiting for God.

 

As Surely as the Dawn

That realization brought profound change in me. The night was still pitch black as I learned to wait for God more watchfully, more attentively, more expectantly than watchmen wait for the morning (Psalm 130:6). Before sunrise, watchmen see shadows dimly in the receding darkness that become clearer and clearer as the night turns into day. They are looking closely, attentive to the details. And they have no doubt about the outcome.

 

“Can we wait for God and be satisfied in him alone without insisting on the outcome we want?”

All the psalms echo this earth-shifting revelation. We are waiting for the Lord. For God alone, our soul waits in silence. We wait patiently for the Lord. What we wait for is certain. As Hosea 6:3 says, “Let us know; let us press on to know the Lord; his going out is sure as the dawn; he will come to us as the showers, as the spring rains that water the earth.”

 

So as we wait, we can ask ourselves:

 

Can we be still and know that he is God when everything in us wants to fix the situation?

Can we embrace the present moment, with its suffering and sorrow, its pain and imperfections, or are we just waiting for our problems to disappear?

Can we live with uncertainty, trusting that God is doing something in what appears to be an empty silence?

Can we wait for God and be satisfied in him alone without insisting on the outcome we want?

The psalms are songs of hope. Not hope that our situation will change immediately or even in this life. But hope in the God who makes all things new, who cares fiercely and tenderly for us, and has all of eternity to show us what he did in our waiting. Our hope will never disappoint because it is not in an outcome but in the living God. Our hope is in him (Psalm 39:7) and from him (Psalm 62:5), and we wait patiently for him (Psalm 37:7), more than watchmen wait for the morning.

 

He will always come to us. As surely as the dawn.

 

Isa 40:31

31 Yet those who wait for the Lord

Will gain new strength;

They will mount up with wings like eagles,

They will run and not get tired,

They will walk and not become weary.

NASU

 

The Isaiah verse above has always been one of my favorites.  Let us learn to wait on the Lord.

 

Pastor Dale

Notes of Faith June 8, 2022

The serpent said to the woman, “You will not surely die. For God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.” — Genesis 3:4–5 ESV

 

The world tries to convince us that the Devil is dead, but it’s a specious argument, one based on circular reasoning. Both Scripture and my own personal experience undercut this argument. Truth is, my life attests: Satan, the father of all lies, the chief prevaricator, is very much alive. Truth is, he’d rather have you believe that he’s dead, inactive, or a myth if it’d keep you out of the arms of God.

 

The question of God — who first posed it? You know the story of Genesis, how God planted a garden and set a man named Adam in the middle of it. From Adam’s rib he cut a woman and named her Eve. As the story goes, God gave Adam and Eve full rule over the garden, with only one restriction. They could not eat of the tree in the center of the garden, the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. If they did, God said, they would die. Seems simple enough, right?

 

Jesus came to bring freedom

 

Enter the Devil.

 

Taking the form of a serpent, the vile liar visited Eve and tempted her first with a question: “God told you not to eat from that tree?” Eve responded and said God had warned them that if they ate from the tree, mankind would be finished. That’s when the first lie entered the ears of a human. “The serpent said to the woman, ‘You will not surely die. For God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil’” (Genesis 3:4–5 ESV). You can set yourself free of God, the Devil intimated; you can kill him and become your own god.

 

Sound familiar?

 

Eve was tricked by the Devil’s lies, and what was the result of that trick? Sin entered the world, and with it, an endless cycle of death and destruction. Into the world came drunkenness. Into the world came sexual immorality and perversion. Into the world came wars and rumors of wars. Into the world came violence and racial divide. The world was forever changed because of the crafty lies spun by a slithering serpent.

 

Those lies have slithered on throughout history.

 

In the Gospels that record the life of Jesus, we see the Devil, still scheming, still spinning the same sorts of lies, still tempting people with the lie that life would be so much better if we could only be free of God.

 

In the eighth chapter of John, Jesus was speaking to the people, and some religious leaders were in the crowd. Jesus — a man known for saying it like it was — spoke the truth, said that every last one of them had been born into sin slavery. Jesus outed the truth. The Devil was alive and active, and he controlled the desires of the religious leaders of the day.

 

There was good news, though. He’d come to bring freedom, and if they followed His command, they’d be free indeed.

 

Jesus, thank you for coming to this world and exposing the Devil’s lies. The enemy of our souls tempts us to become our own god, but You came to reveal that You alone can set us free.

 

Excerpted from Your Daily Phil by Phil Robertson, copyright Phil Robertson.

 

Listen to and follow Jesus and His Word and you will not hear and be deceived by the lies of the Devil.

 

Pastor Dale

Notes of Faith June 7, 2022

You may relate, but there are times that I struggle to keep the faith. Faith like that of the Shunammite woman. Have you heard her story? Let’s look.

 

“One day Elisha went to Shunem. A prominent woman who lived there persuaded him to eat some food. So whenever he passed by, he stopped there to eat. Then she said to her husband, “I know that the one who often passes by here is a holy man of God, so let’s make a small, walled-in upper room and put a bed, a table, a chair, and a lamp there for him. Whenever he comes, he can stay there.”

 

One day he came there and stopped at the upstairs room to lie down. He ordered his attendant Gehazi, “Call this Shunammite woman.” So he called her, and she stood before him. Then he said to Gehazi, “Say to her, ‘Look, you’ve gone to all this trouble for us. What can we do for you? Can we speak on your behalf to the king or to the commander of the army?’” She answered, “I am living among my own people.” So he asked, “Then what should be done for her?” Gehazi answered, “Well, she has no son, and her husband is old.”

 

“Call her,” Elisha said. So Gehazi called her, and she stood in the doorway. Elisha said, “At this time next year you will have a son in your arms.” Then she said, “No, my Lord. Man of God, do not lie to your servant.” The woman conceived and gave birth to a son at the same time the following year, as Elisha had promised her. The child grew, and one day went out to his father and the harvesters. Suddenly he complained to his father, “My head! My head!” His father told his servant, “Carry him to his mother.”

 

So he picked him up and took him to his mother. The child sat on her lap until noon and then died. She went up and laid him on the bed of the man of God, shut him in, and left. She summoned her husband and said, “Please send me one of the servants and one of the donkeys, so I can hurry to the man of God and come back again.” But he said, “Why go to him today? It’s not a New Moon or a Sabbath.”

 

She replied, “Everything is alright.” Then she saddled the donkey and said to her servant, “Go fast; don’t slow the pace for me unless I tell you.” So she came to the man of God at Mount Carmel.

 

When the man of God saw her at a distance, he said to his attendant Gehazi, “Look, there’s the Shunammite woman. Run out to meet her and ask, ‘Are you all right? Is your husband all right? Is your son all right?’” And she answered, “Everything’s alright.” When she came up to the man of God at the mountain, she clung to his feet. Gehazi came to push her away, but the man of God said, “Leave her alone — she is in severe anguish, and the Lord has hidden it from me. He hasn’t told me.”

 

Then she said, “Did I ask my Lord for a son? Didn’t I say, ‘Do not lie to me?’”

 

So Elisha said to Gehazi, “Tuck your mantle under your belt, take my staff with you, and go. If you meet anyone, don’t stop to greet him, and if a man greets you, don’t answer him. Then place my staff on the boy’s face.” The boy’s mother said to Elisha, “As the Lord lives and as you yourself live, I will not leave you.”

 

So he got up and followed her. Gehazi went ahead of them and placed the staff on the boy’s face, but there was no sound or sign of life, so he went back to meet Elisha and told him, “The boy didn’t wake up.”

 

When Elisha got to the house, he discovered the boy lying dead on his bed. So he went in, closed the door behind the two of them, and prayed to the Lord. Then he went up and lay on the boy: he put mouth to mouth, eye to eye, hand to hand. While he bent down over him, the boy’s flesh became warm. Elisha got up, went into the house, and paced back and forth. Then he went up and bent down over him again. The boy sneezed seven times and opened his eyes.

— 2 Kings 4: 8-35 CSB

 

God will always accomplish what He says He will

In 2 Kings 4:17 God promised the woman a son which she gave birth to a year later. Years go by, and she watches her promise grow. Life was good until one day it wasn’t. The boy fell ill, and not just sick, but the Bible says, “he died.” What a blow that must have been. Her promise from the Lord was dead. The promise she had prayed for and cared for, the promise God didn’t have to give her but chose to give her.

 

Can you relate? Perhaps you’ve not lost a child, but you’ve lost a dream. You’ve heard the voice of God, stepped out in faith, only to find your dream looking lifeless?

 

John 16:33 reminds us that in this life, we will have trouble. Sometimes life throws us surprises, and not the good kind.

It could be a diagnosis, a financial struggle, a rebellious child, marriage issues, or a host of other things. No matter what problem has wedged its way between you and your promise, don’t start mourning just yet. It may not be as lifeless as it looks.

 

If you read on down, about 2 Kings 4:23, the Bible says, while the Shunammite woman’s son lay dead, she goes on her way, saying, “it will be well.” Call me crazy, but it doesn’t seem too well to me. Her son is dead. It’s over, let the tears flow! Nope. Not this momma. She responded with faith in the Promise-Giver. Momma was looking past her circumstances and straight at her promise. I hate to admit this to you, but too often I respond the opposite. I put more faith in my circumstances than I do in God’s promises. But I am learning that the way we react to our situations is often the very thing that determines whether our promise lives or dies. Had the Shunammite momma mourned her loss and never went to the man of God, her promise most likely would’ve died and stayed that way. There was no one else with the power to bring her son to life. And friend,

 

there is no one besides God that has the power to revive your promise.

 

My question for you is this: how are you responding? Where have you put your faith? In your circumstances or in the Promise-Giver? God wants to breathe life back into your promise, despite how things appear.

 

God will always accomplish what He says He will.

 

So my word that comes from my mouth will not return to me empty, but it will accomplish what I please and will prosper in what I send it to do.

— Isaiah 55:11 CSB

 

Daily Prayer

 

Father, today I’m tired. I’m tired of the circumstances that lie to me and distract me from the promise You have for me. Lord, today I am choosing to trust Your word over my life and over my situations. I know that not one word from Your mouth will return void. Although things may LOOK lifeless, I am confident You can bring them to life again. Lord, I love You, and I wait for Your promise. In Jesus name. Amen.

 

Excerpted from Chasing Jesus by Cassie Downs, copyright Cassie Downs.

 

We must cling to the words, “I will never leave you or forsake you.”  No matter our circumstances the Lord goes before us, walks beside us, and follows behind us.  He is faithful to fulfill His promises.  Trust in Him!

 

Pastor Dale

Notes of Faith June 6, 2022

I am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ, for it is the power of God to salvation for everyone who believes. – Romans 1:16

 

Lord, by Your name alone are people saved.

 

Your unfailing love built the bridge from You to us. Your love conquers all. Help me be bold with my faith and unashamed that I follow You so I will speak freely about You. Help me walk in courage and faith every day because my strength and dependence flow from the Holy Spirit. Provide opportunities for me to share Your love with my friends and coworkers, and give me the heart to stand strong for You. Teach me how to be an example for my children.

 

Bless my family, Lord, so they will know You and will want to tell others about You. Give them an excitement and a deep joy in serving You. Fill our home with Your strength and courage.

 

Thank You for strengthening our hearts and our resolve to follow You without apprehension or wavering.

 

In Your Son’s name, amen.

 

*

 

As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord

And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose. – Romans 8:28

 

Dear God, You are great and mighty. You planned and purposed every moment of every life on earth. You know all and control all. You are Lord of all!

 

Remind me today that when unexpected, troublesome, or even painful things enter my life, You have allowed them for my benefit — to strengthen me. Help me to appreciate the difficulties and challenges and to have the proper attitude toward them.

 

As my children learn more about You and Your ways, help them realize You want only good for them. Teach them to pray and walk with You through the good times and bad. Reinforce their faith today.

 

Thank You for weaving the events and circumstances in our lives to fit in your amazing plan. I am grateful that Your plan includes my family.

 

In Christ’s name, amen.

 

*

As for me and my house, we will serve the LORD. – Joshua 24:15

 

Lord, You are all-knowing and all-powerful. Heaven is your throne, and the earth is Your footstool. I wonder sometimes if I’m teaching my family about You like I should. Guide me to be a godly man so I can be the kind of father and husband You want me to be. Break down any barriers that keep me from being that man.

 

Show my children and my family that Your ways are best. Create in them the desire to follow You so they will love You with all their hearts, all their minds, and all their souls.

 

I am so grateful I can come to You on behalf of my family. Thank You for carefully watching over them and leading them to You.

 

In Your holy name, amen.

 

Excerpted from Pocket Prayers for Dads by Max Lucado, copyright Max Lucado.

 

Pastor Dale

Notes of Faith June 5, 2022

The great 4th century Church Father, Athanasius once said:

 

“The Psalms have a unique place in the Bible because [whereas] most of Scripture speaks to us, the Psalms speak for us.”

 

No truer words have been spoken. When we open up the book of Psalms, we find 150 of the most compelling, captivating, and heart wrenching prayers ever uttered. And a full third of these can be categorized as “laments.”

 

What is a lament? It is a psalm of complaint that names, often in graphic detail, the agonies and injustices of life. As Martin Luther once said, in a lament “you look into the hearts of the saints” and what you see there is a potent mixture of pain… and hope. In my study The Epic of Eden: The Book of Psalms I say that to read a lament is to watch an ancient believer as they stand against the storm.

 

For a modern believer to pray a lament is to allow the ancients to join you in the midst of your storm.

 

Most of the laments in our Bibles are written in response to one of two crises: (1) social persecution, and (2) illness. I find it so interesting that these are the blows that can knock the strongest to their knees — then and now. To find oneself isolated from what had been your community; or to have your body fail you, these are the darkest of days. This is the isolation of a pain that no one else can feel. When there is either no hand to help, or no hand that can help.

 

Equally interesting to me is the fact that whereas we are allowed to ask for help with the second (illness) — announce it as a prayer request, post details on social media, have hands laid upon us at the altar — the former is something we hide. You will likely not be sharing about your husband’s pornography addiction that is decimating your young marriage. Or that your boss has passed you over for a promotion you deserve because of the deceit of a colleague. And you for sure will not be posting that you’re in need of prayer because you’re being investigated at work for potentially discriminatory behavior, or that your daughter is struggling with suicidal thoughts because of an abortion. That kind of “knock the wind out of you” betrayal, bias, slander, and injury… we don’t share those with the community. And it is expressly in this hour where the power of lament tips the scales.

 

Every psalm of lament in your Bible has five elements. (1) An address of praise to God for His mighty acts in the past; (2) a complaint of distress; (3) a protest of innocence; (4) a petition for deliverance; and always (5) a declaration of confidence in God’s faithfulness and a vow to praise Him… regardless. These literary features may be mixed and matched as the psalmist wishes, but each one is in there.

 

Most of Scripture speaks to us, but the Psalms speak for us

So let’s take a look at Psalm 70, a brief but powerful lament which embodies the pain and fear of a person who’s gotten the wind knocked out of them.

 

1Hasten, O God, to save me!

O LORD, come quickly to help me!

2May those who seek my life be put to shame and confusion;

may all who desire my ruin be turned back in disgrace!

3May those who say to me, "Aha! Aha!" turn back because of their shame.

4But may all who seek You rejoice and be glad in You;

may those who love Your salvation always say, "Let God be exalted!"

5I am poor and needy; come quickly to me, O God.

YOU are my help and my deliverer!

O LORD, do not delay.

 

I hope you can hear that the person who wrote this prayer was scared. They had enemies. And as they looked out on the playing field, the chances that those enemies were going to prevail looked pretty good.  “Please hurry, God,” she cries, “I can’t hang on much longer!”

 

How about Psalm 62?

 

 3How long will you assault a man?

Would all of you throw him down - this leaning wall, this tottering fence?

4They fully intend to topple him from his lofty place;

they take delight in lies.

With their mouths they bless, but in their hearts,  they curse. — Psalm 62:3-4

 

This person has been falsely accused. In fact, there are folks who are actively plotting to destroy this man with slander. Have you been there? Perhaps you’re a pastor and there is a faction in your church that wants you out. You’ve challenged the status quo, you’re gaining a following, complacency is retreating, and folks are actually starting to talk about outreach and diverting more money to the missions budget. So the old guard has started spreading rumors. “Have you seen that new car pastor got last year, wonder where that money came from?” “Hey have you seen how much time he spends with that new woman who just started coming? I hear he’s already recruited her for his personal discipleship group?” But the psalmist, who knows all about what havoc slander can wreak in an honest man’s life, reminds himself:

 

5Find rest, O my soul, in God alone;

my hope comes from Him.

6He alone is my rock and my salvation;

He is my fortress,

I will not be shaken.

7My salvation and my honor depend on God;

He is my mighty rock, my refuge. — Psalm 62:5-7

 

How many of us have experienced that 4:00 am wake up, drenched in sweat, overcome with fear at the crisis bearing down on us? If it hasn’t happened, you probably just haven’t lived long enough yet. But this Psalmist knows, so he coaches his soul. He recites the mighty acts of God, he reminds himself of the truth… even in the darkness. And better yet, this Psalmist reminds us of the same.

 

8Trust in Him at all times, O people;

pour out your hearts to Him,

for God is our refuge…

11One thing God has spoken, two things have I heard:

that You, O God, are strong,

and that You, O Lord, are loving.

12Surely You will reward each person according to what he has done.

— Psalm 62:8-12

 

Athanasius was right. “The Psalms have a unique place in the Bible because [whereas] most of Scripture speaks to us, the Psalms speak for us.” Join me in my study, The Epic of Eden: The Book of Psalms and let’s learn together how the prayers of the ancients can speak into our lives today.

 

Written for Devotionals Daily by Sandra L. Richter, author of The Epic of Eden.

 

Pastor Dale

Notes of Faith June 4, 2022

How Did Jesus Make Disciples

 

Article by David Mathis

Executive Editor, desiringGod.org

 

First, they worshiped Him.

 

Before Jesus gave them any tasks to be done, any commission to fulfill, any directions as to how they might, in some sense, carry on his work once he was gone, first they went to their knees before him. Matthew reports that

 

the eleven disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain to which Jesus had directed them. And when they saw him they worshiped him . . . . (Matthew 28:16–17)

 

Before they might imitate aspects of his human life, and echo his teachings in their own words and obedience, they bowed before Jesus — not only as man but God himself.

 

What’s more, before Jesus uttered the lone imperative of his Great Commission to his men, for his church, he declared his unique authority: “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me” (Matthew 28:18). The church has one Groom, one Chief Shepherd, one Lord, one risen Son seated at the right hand of the Father, supplying the Spirit. And more than that, when the disciples did receive their charge, it would be strikingly focused on “the Son” — baptizing in his name, with the Father and Spirit, and teaching all nations to observe all that Jesus commanded.

 

Yet, the other foot would land. Not only would utterly inimitable aspects of the God-man’s life have their clear markings here, at his giving of the Commission, but his disciples would have a call to answer, a part to play, genuine obedience to render. There was actual imitation of their master to own and realize, however qualified it might be.

 

At the heart of this final, culminating report at the end of Matthew’s Gospel stands a particular directive — work to be done, an imperative to heed, a mission to embrace, and yes, a pronounced dimension of Christ’s life to imitate: make disciples.

 

He Made Them Fishers

How would this charge — one that encompasses all the other commands of Christ’s teaching — have landed on his own men in that moment, and in the days and years that followed as they reflected on it? After all, this was the particular band who knew him best. These were his disciples. What might his disciples hear when he told his disciples to make disciples?

 

For Peter and Andrew, James and John, Jesus had first framed his call to disciple them in terms of their native profession. “Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men” (Matthew 4:19). Having been trained, their whole lives long, to use boats and nets to draw food from the sea, what would have been plain to them then, and all the more plain after three years with Jesus, was that you don’t make fishermen, or disciples, overnight or in an instant.

 

Making good fishermen is a long, involved process, as they knew all too well. It requires teaching and training over time. Not only hearing, and internalizing, clear words of instruction and direction but also watching a master fisherman at work — and catching the unspoken rhythms and patterns of his craft. Such apprenticing requires, according to pastor Tom Nelson, “the kind of knowing that is difficult to capture in propositional terms or categories, but that emerges in the context of a close relationship and in the imitation of another” (The Flourishing Pastor, 94). Nelson cites philosopher Michael Polanyi (1891–1976) who calls it “tacit knowledge”:

 

By watching the master and emulating his efforts in the presence of his example, the apprentice unconsciously picks up the rules of the art, including those which are not explicitly known to the master himself. (Polanyi, Personal Knowledge, 53)

 

Such disciple-making, as seen in the life of Christ, involves more than formal, verbal instruction. Disciples not only hear their master talk about his craft, but they watch him at work, and then receive ongoing instruction as he, in turn, watches their early efforts and speaks into their emerging abilities.

 

Now You Make Fishers

How, then, did this spiritual fisher-making unfold during Jesus’s ministry? In Matthew’s Gospel in particular, from Jesus’s summons in chapter 4, to his commission in chapter 28, it is remarkable to observe his recurring attention to and prioritizing and investment in his disciples.

 

Again and again, from one chapter to the next, and often one account to the next, Jesus navigates public and private dimensions of life, showing rhythms of welcoming “the crowds” (in public) and then giving undivided attention to “his disciples” (in private). He is willing to receive and bless the masses as they come seeking, yet he himself seeks out his disciples, to invest in the few. (Observe it for yourself by skimming through the Gospel of Matthew and watching for the words crowd and disciples in the first and last lines of various sections.)

 

“Christ himself showed his disciples the Christian life, inside and out, in pubic teaching and private prayer.”

Jesus, the Master, had called them to follow him, and for more than three years, in setting after setting, in private homes and in the midst of great crowds, walking long journeys between towns and enjoying unhurried meals — one conversation at a time, one day at a time — Jesus had discipled them. Christ himself showed them the Christian life, inside and out, in public teaching and private prayer. Now they too were to make disciples.

 

In particular, he says, “Disciple all nations” — which must have landed on them with at least a double force.

 

‘Disciple’ as a Verb

First is the relational context we’ve been observing.

 

Christians today often talk about “discipleship,” and so it might be helpful to clarify what sort of action and process Jesus’s disciples would have heard when their discipler said to “make disciples.” Disciple-making, in this context, is the process in which a stable, mature believer invests himself, for a particular period of time, in one or a few younger believers, in order to help their growth in the faith — including helping them also to invest in others who will invest in others. (Paul gives such directions to his disciple, in 2 Timothy 2:2, for raising up leaders in the Ephesian church.)

 

“Disciple-making is both engineered and organic, involving both truth-speaking and life-sharing.”

 

Such disciple-making requires both structure (particular lessons and topics to work through) as well as margin that allows the discipler to speak into unplanned teachable moments as they arise. Such a process is both engineered and organic, involving both truth-speaking and life-sharing. Quantity time is the soil in which quality time grows.

 

FORMAL AND INFORMAL

The vast majority of Jesus’s time with his men wasn’t formal. Mark 3:14 says, “He appointed twelve (whom he also named apostles) so that they might be with him . . .” Before he sent them out to preach, they first needed to be with their Master, to hear his instruction, watch his life, and absorb his ways — not with a clock ticking in the background but with the space and time and overlap of everyday life that encourages the kind of effect that Jesus had on his men.

 

It is nothing short of amazing what three years with Jesus did for this ragtag band of young Galileans. All of them were outsiders to the religious establishment of the time; none of them were rabbi-trained like Paul. And yet, after Christ’s ascension and the pouring out of his Spirit, the religious authorities could see with their own eyes the profound imprints of Christ on his men:

 

Now when they saw the boldness of Peter and John, and perceived that they were uneducated, common men, they were astonished. And they recognized that they had been with Jesus. (Acts 4:13)

 

Jesus did not despise the crowds. He received them. He taught them. He healed them. But he didn’t pursue them. His days revolved around his disciples. And when it came time to turn to them, and give them his Commission, he didn’t say, “Draw crowds.” He said, “Disciple the nations.”

 

‘All Nations’ as the Goal

Second is the outward push of all nations.

 

In his commentary on the Commission, D.A. Carson notes that while “the main imperatival force” and “the main emphasis” is on the verb “make disciples,” we should not downplay or overlook the effect of the participle going (“go and make disciples”). Lingering indefinitely in Jerusalem, or in Galilee, will not fulfill the mission. There is an irreducible “centrifugal force,” we might say, not only in the participle but also in the object of the verb “all nations.”

 

Jesus commissions both depth and distance. Yes, his disciples seek to “make converts” — nothing less will do. They must be evangelists. But Jesus calls for more. At the heart of his charge is the depth of making disciples. And the inevitable effect, and impulse, is outward, expansive, evangelistic, even global. The Commission directs Christ’s people to both “go deep” and “go out” — locally and to other cities and peoples.

 

All He Commanded

Now, as we go — across the street, down the hall, to the church building or a coffee shop, into a new relationship or another appointment, or to the other side of town, or to a new state, or across an ocean, or to a new culture or language — we make disciples, offering our words and time and attention for months, even years, and putting forward our own lives as examples.

 

We exercise patience, speak with grace, answer simple questions with humility, and as disciples of Jesus ourselves, we point our “disciples” not finally to us, but to him. And when our focus is making disciples, rather than the modern fascination with drawing crowds, we find that life and ministry take a whole new tenor, perhaps even that of Christ himself.

 

And as we seek to live and minister more like him, we own afresh that Jesus is indeed unique. All authority is his. The commission is his. The church is his. The promise of divine presence is his. We worship him, and disciple others to do the same.

 

Are we like Jesus, making disciples that make disciples?  How did Jesus do it?  Are we pouring the truth of Christ and living our lives in such a way that disciples can follow our example?

 

Pastor Dale

Notes of Faith June 3, 2022

“Preach the gospel at all times. Use words if necessary.” It’s reported that Saint Francis of Assisi said those words when asked by others how a person should express his faith. And while most who know me wouldn’t expect me to pull out a supposedly eight-hundred-year-old quote from a Catholic friar, when I heard the words, I thought immediately of Dad. He is the living example of those words.

 

Clearly my father always had faith in himself, but the faith he would tell you was more important to his success was his faith in God. It wasn’t a discussion he had with reporters; it has always been his — and our family’s — take on faith to keep this portion of our lives rather private. Within our house, believing in our Creator was a central part of our life and success, and I’m sure no one who has spent time with Dad would question his faith. The lesson that both my parents taught us as their children mirrors exactly the way I’ve shared the discussion regarding faith with my children.

 

As I was writing this, the importance of faith and how it was taught led to a great discussion with both of my parents. “Believing in Christ was just a way of life,” Mom said.

 

Then Dad summed it up. “I thought it was important to teach you about God the same way I taught you golf,” he said rather matter-of-factly. “Go through and make sure you understand the importance and the fundamentals, then let each of you come to decisions based on what you saw, not what you might think was being forced. If the decision becomes truly yours, the impact will be far greater. My father and mother taught faith to me, basically, the same way.”

 

Mom and Dad passed that faith on to us, one of the greatest gifts they ever gave us. And as a Christ-follower today, I know the way Mom and Dad set the example worked for me.

 

As often as she could, Mom made sure she and the five kids attended our Methodist church and Sunday school and learned about God and Jesus. She said she made it a point for us to sit in the front row so none of us would be tempted to nod off or misbehave.

 

We didn’t attend church every Sunday because as a family we traveled to Dad’s golf tournaments many weekends. Dad got to go to church far less frequently than we did. He worked on Sunday. (At least he hoped every week to be working on Sunday!) But Dad made the point that a church attendance roster was no way to define our relationship with God. Of the five children I probably traveled more with Dad than the others. I first caddied for Dad when I was fourteen years old and was on his golf bag many weekends as a teenager and beyond, missing many Sundays at home.

 

But your core, who you truly are, is defined by what happens when nobody is watching.

 

PGA Tour players compete in twenty to thirty tournaments annually — Dad played in 586 PGA Tour events during his forty-three-year career. He traveled nationally and internationally, making pew appearances nearly impossible. On the tour, several players have, for many years, made it a point to gather for a group Bible study on Sunday mornings. Dad didn’t attend those gatherings, choosing to make his private time of worship his own. He read and prayed. But he did it alone.

 

Dad thought of the golf course as his place to witness.

 

When he was out there, the crowds were watching. In his mind it wouldn’t have mattered what he did on Sunday mornings if on Sunday afternoons he cursed and acted in ways that would have dishonored his Lord. Similarly, it wouldn’t matter how many times you pointed toward Heaven after a great putt if you disrespected your wife and family through your actions or words. Many people can put on a good show in public. But your core, who you truly are, is defined by what happens when nobody is watching.

 

I have tried to instill my parents’ commitment to faith in my kids through many of the same ways. I believed the way they watched a Christian life lived would help set an example, and I am proud of the direction each of them has chosen.

 

One of the most important teachings in the Bible is the admonition that each of us must love our neighbor.

 

I know there’s a chapter ahead in this book on my parents’ work for charitable organizations, but as I think about how my father and mother lived their faith, I think about many of the little ways they showed love to neighbors.

 

Dad would often encourage us, as children, to find little ways to help people. The greatest lesson in what he was teaching, though, was the importance of showing empathy for others, of not being judgmental of circumstances we might not understand.

 

You never know what other people are going through in their lives. Even a small interaction when passing someone on a sidewalk can entirely change a person’s day. Being respectful, appreciative, kind, caring, and listening to and learning from your friends, family, and strangers is very important. As big as our world is, it truly is small.

 

And in those moments, you may be opening a heart.

 

Excerpted from Best Seat in the House by Jack Nicklaus II and Don Yaeger, copyright Jack Nicklaus II and Don Yaeger.

 

Love God and love your neighbor!  It sounds so easy . . .

 

Pastor Dale

Notes of Faith June 2, 2022

Prove yourselves doers of the word, and not merely hearers who delude themselves. — James 1:22 NASB

 

You will be tested. Like Jesus’ desert trial, the enemy comes probing at your weak spots. But this trains you. It’s how you develop a resolute heart. You make no agreements with whatever the temptation or accusation is. You repent quickly the moment you do stumble so you don’t get hammered. You pray for strength from the Spirit of God in you. You directly resist the enemy, out loud, as Jesus did in the desert. You quote Scripture against him and command him to flee.

 

By the time it’s over, you’ll wish a few angels would drop in and minister to you as well. I pray they do.

 

Life will provide a thousand sessions for raising the warrior God calls you to be. Turn your radar on during the day, and intentionally don’t take the path of least resistance. Take the road less traveled. If you hate any sort of conflict, then walk into some. When an awkward subject comes up, don’t run. Move toward it. Ask hard questions. When the phone rings and it’s someone you don’t want to talk to, pick it up. Engage. That’s the key word — engage. Choose to engage and your weary warrior wakes up.

 

Where in your life do you need to engage right now? In a tough relationship? A moral issue at work? Your children? Tending to your own soul?

 

*

 

Jesus asks: will you come with me?

 

Will You Come With Me?

 

Anyone who intends to come with me has to let me lead… Don’t run from suffering; embrace it. Follow me and I’ll show you how. — Luke 9:23 The Message

 

It helps to understand why Jesus keeps introducing “new frontiers” to you. Just when you think you’ve got a pretty good grasp on your inner world, Jesus shows you something else that needs healing. And have you wondered why things are always changing — why does God arrange for new frontiers to always be cropping up in your life? Because

 

God is growing you up.

 

God is growing me up changes your expectations. When you show up at the gym, you are not surprised or irritated that the trainer pushes you into a drenching sweat; it’s what you came for. Bilbo hesitates leaving the Shire; he’s not sure he wants this new frontier being offered him. I think we can all relate. And that is why Jesus asks: Will you come with Me?

 

God almost always has some “new frontier” for you — something He is inviting you into, new ground He wants you to take, or a new realm of understanding; maybe a move in your external world, or a shift in your internal world; might be a new “spiritual” frontier. Sometimes those new frontiers are thrust upon you; sometimes you choose them willingly. Either way, God is taking you into new frontiers because He is growing you up. Will you come with Me?

 

Where has Jesus been inviting you into more? Have you asked Him? Maybe He’s already put it on your heart. What new realm would you like to grow into?

 

Excerpted from Restoration Year by John Eldredge, copyright John Eldredge.

 

Keep seeking more of Jesus all your life and you will be filled to overflowing.

 

Pastor Dale