Saturday, June 30, 2007

The Danger of Safety

"Anxiety is a greater sin than making the wrong decision. We're indecisive because we want to be safe. It paralyzes us. And that paralysis is sin. God is sovereign. He is not surprised by the decisions we make. Everything that happens falls perfectly into his will. And there's no reason we should be worried about falling into his will." Nate Towers



From a previous post:

There's a great song lyric that says, "The lie is always cheaper than the truth." And it's true. But on the flip side, the greatest treasures will only be won "at immense cost and discipline." When the Lord asks you to walk in faith, a part of you dies. You pay dearly to follow the Lord - whether it be emotionally, physically, relationally. But you pay. You always pay. If it's free, you have to wonder if it's really God. Your friends, who only mean the best, will say, "Be careful. Don't do it. I don't want to see you get hurt." But when has following Christ not involved suffering? Obedience does not mean safety. I think one of our biggest problems as Christians is that we think we need to be safe, and we want our friends to be safe. Obviously, we shouldn't be stupid. But if we're truly following the Lord, there will be risk. And with risk there will be scars. With obedience there will be suffering.

Friday, June 29, 2007

To Revere the Covenant

Catherine Marshall, To Live Again

. . . But all my human efforts had failed to curb my husband's whirlwind pace. Nothing seemed left for me but a complete relinquishment of the man I loved to the Lord. It was indeed like trusting myself to the water. My feeling was like that of a child poised and teetering on the end of a high diving board.

At that time out of the depths of my fear I had made an act of giving Peter's future and mine to God for Him to do with as he pleased. The relinquishment had been as complete as I was able to make it. It had been made in my will, even as my every human emotion had cried out against it.

But now, months later, God was saying, "Apparently you did not really mean that relinquishment that day. . . ." The clear implication seemed to be that God had taken the transaction between us, made in my will, at face value, as a covenant, as He always does a promise made to Him by one of his children. I was now being challenged. My bluff was being called. Did I really believe in the existence of God enough to believe that when I spoke to him, he heard; when I made Him a promise, He accepted it and held me to it?



"See!" Joshua said to the people. "This stone will be a witness against us. It has heard all the words the LORD has said to us. It will be a witness against you if you are untrue to your God." (Joshua 24:27)

Eastern Shadows

I hang in suspended decent
Over the bottomless chasm of uncertainty
In my heart, the sentence of death
Sysiphus, my destiny

Twisted knots of fear-induced paralysis
Consumes the inner yearnings of starving desolation
Yet with fierce composure presses
The force of breathless resignation
Anticipation drained to dregs
Of bitter suffocation

Death engulfs, with hell to swarm
With face as flint and blood blade-worn
A fastened jaw, a thorn embraced
The beating heart of hope enraged
A cry of justice silenced, torn
From life itself, cut, scalped and shorn
The blood of hope poured over coal
With murdered oaths and vows untold

A screech, a cry, from sky above
A shadowed form to shield the sun
With wings outstretched to hide the day
My dying sight - a Bird of Prey

Tuesday, June 26, 2007

"If God promised it, then yes."

I don't remember what the question was, but it was a really good answer. So simple, so true. And from someone who isn't even a Christian. . .

I went on to ask him, "But how do you know?"

His response was, "I don't know. But you know God, and you know what he said, and I trust your judgment."




Humbling, really.

The Risk of Releasing

This is an excerpt from a piece I wrote two years ago. For the rest of it, go here.


". . . It took me until the following afternoon before I had the courage to move beyond my demand for his contrition and forgive this man who had so hurt me. Courage, I say, because forgiveness is a risk. It means so much more than merely canceling a debt. True forgiveness involves surrender. True surrender involves releasing everything—demands, expectations, bitterness, and, ultimately, the offender’s guilt. I could not make the situation into what I wanted it to be; I could not pretend that I had the power and strength to manipulate the circumstance. Surrender would make me weak and vulnerable—or rather, it would expose this as my true condition. I had to relinquish control to God. In choosing to trust God, I was forced to lose hope in everything else. In clinging to Christ, I had to release the offender, only to risk him never understanding, never caring. By walking away, I was risking him letting me go."



It's a risk that burns you. But it's a burn that erodes the flesh and brings forth new life. "Who of us can dwell with everlasting burning? He who walks righteously..." Righteousness involves belief. Belief involves obedience.

One thing I have learned: Obedience involves risk. It's a leap into the bottomless chasm of uncertainty. If the leap should bring "death," then I believe in the God who raises the dead. But if he should give us wings, then may it be that we rise to the heavens.

Raise us up, Lord Jesus.

Friday, June 22, 2007

Sisyphus

I don't just want to be forgiven.
I want to be changed.

Thursday, June 14, 2007

What Has Gone Before

All good things come from God
and all good things go back to God
For God is good
and in his goodness I rest

Monday, June 11, 2007

The Cost of Obedience

In response to my last post, Christina asked, "How can we have God's favor in our relationships? Or anything else, for that matter?" My answer comes in the form of a quote, and part of an email I recently wrote to a friend.


THE QUOTE:

"Often God does things in our life that may not fit our grid of 'normal.' But 'normal' to God isn't a set formula, it's obedience no matter what the cost, absolute trust in His leading, and total dependence upon Him for the outcome." (Eric Ludy)


THE EMAIL:

. . . If I know nothing else, and if I have been deceived beyond all deception and have believed a lie, I know the Lord has commanded me to obey. If I lose everything, and I am again left alone, then I will have gained one thing: the favor of the Lord. The favor of the Lord outweighs the delights of the heart.

For though I desire fulfillment, those desires must be offered unreservedly to the God who is close to the contrite. And though I desire the favor of men, I must seek the favor of the Lord. I must obey, regardless of the cost, knowing that there is a joy set before me that is worth the pain, the suffering, the nights of empty longing. To set my face like flint, to endure the cross and scorn its shame, is to follow in the path of Christ, a path laden with heartache and loss. But there is beauty beyond the suffering, and for that beauty I strive.

Looking back over my life, there has been nothing more beautiful than one lonely night sophomore year. After two difficult years of learning the cost of obedience, the Lord closed that chapter with his own hand. But even in the closing of a chapter, there is loss. There is always loss. But in the darkness of my loss, the Lord met me. And in my dark and lonely hour, I received words of favor from the Lord, words that made those two hard years make sense. They were words that showed me the value of obedience and brokenness. It is those words of favor I remember when I want to abandon this living hope. I think of the beauty I might miss if I don't stay the course. I think of the beauty I might gain should I press on. I think of the Lord's favor, and how it is more desirable than fulfillment. For I can live without earthly fulfillment, but I cannot live without my God.

This I know. Indeed, I have paid dearly the cost for which I never bargained. I have lost the treasures of my very self, and yet I have survived. I have learned there is life after loss, and the God for which I labor is worth those empty nights. I have yet to see the restoration of all I have lost, and yet I hope, I wait, I believe. One day his salvation will come, and I will wait for that day. If all for which I have hoped comes to naught, I will still believe that my God will come. I will still wait for his deliverance. I know that one day he will restore the years the locusts have eaten. One day, he will atone for the sufferings that I have endured. I will wait for him. He came through for me once, and it is that memory I will not release. He came for me. And though he linger, I will wait. He will surely come and will not delay. If I lose all for which I have labored, then may it be that I gain the favor of the Lord, which no man can rob from me.

Tuesday, June 5, 2007

The Favor of the Lord

"Many young couples struggle with problems in their marriage that they cannot trace to their source. They are committed to the Lord and to one another. There is a genuine love between them. Yet their is an indefinable something missing, which is God's favor."

"There is one thing you must do above all others: You must diligently cultivate the Lord's favor. His satisfaction must be your highest ambition. Make God's favor the supreme object of living." (Derek Prince)


"Remember me for this, O my God, and do not blot out what I have so faithfully done. . . . Remember me with favor, O my God." (Nehemiah 13:14, 31)

"This is what the LORD says: 'In the time of my favor I will answer you, and in the day of salvation I will help you.'" (Isaiah 49:8)