You Better Believe It

I was in the 5th grade and was doing my math homework one night (and anyone who knows me knows how much I hate math) and I kept asking my mom, “What’s so-and-so times so-and-so?”, over and over until she lost her patience with me and snapped, “Figure it out!” So, I did. I added and added and added until I got the answer. I know for certain that 7×8=56 and you can bet it will remain with me for the rest of my life.

So, here’s a question for you: Why do you believe what you believe? Because your childhood Sunday School teacher told you a Bible story? Because your pastor preached about a passage on Sunday? Because you read something profound in a book by a smiling author? There’s a malady in the church called biblical illiteracy. It simply means most people in the church don’t know the Bible very well. We know Bible story sound bites. We know a few verses (mostly taken out of context). And we know what the culture tell us – that God is all and only love and doesn’t want us ever to be unhappy or deny our “true selves.”

What we believe is too often just what we’ve been told – but not what we know. And there is a difference. What you’ve heard just sits in your ears, but what you know takes deep root in your heart and, like your circulating blood, affects every part of you. If your faith is built on others’ thoughts and opinions, how can you be sure you are building on solid truth? When someone challenges your belief, you can’t make a good defense and it all starts to crumble. But if your belief is built on what you have mined from the Scriptures and chewed on and have wrestled your heart and mind into submission then your faith will stand up against the questions of the world. Like my math equation, what you invest in stays with you.

Paul said, “I know whom I have believed and am convinced that He is able to guard what I have entrusted to Him for that day” (2 Timothy 1:12). Are you convinced that what you believe will hold you up? As Christians come under fire, it’s more important than ever that you know what you believe – and why you believe it. And it’s eternally important that what you believe is the truth. Beloved, you don’t just need to know about religious-sounding stuff. You need to know the truth.

Bullseye

It was my verse through seven years of infertility. It has been my verse through hard times of struggle, sadness, disappointment, and longing. It is my verse now in this season of anxiety and uncertainty and heartache. “Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but when dreams come true at last there is life and Joy” (Prov. 13:12 TLB).

Hope, on its own, implies delay; the word means to wait for, to be patient. Paul wrote, “Who hopes for what he already has? But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait patiently for it” (Rom 8:24-25). But it’s more than waiting. It also means to expect. To borrow from Paul; who hopes for what she doesn’t think will ever happen? Hope is patient expectation rooted in trust. But there’s one more word connected to hope: pain. I’ll bet somebody is shaking their head. Waiting can be painful. Just ask me thirty-something years ago in that season of waiting for God to bless us with a baby. I trusted God, but my empty arms ached.

But this verse adds another layer: Hope deferred . . . This means hope dragged along. To the waiting, we add tension. One definition means “to draw the bow” and it reminded me of taking archery in high school. First I would seat the arrow in the bow and find my target. I fixed my sights on the bullseye, lifted the bow into firing position, and pulled the arrow back, stretching the bowstring taut. In the moment between setting the arrow and letting go, there was incredible tension in the string and in my arm. We had to wait until the instructor gave the firing order. If that order was delayed, my arm would start to ache and tremble. But I had to hold my position. If I dropped my bow, I might miss the call. If I lost my visual focus, I would lose the target. Hope deferred often causes pain and we may tremble in the waiting, but we do not lower our bow – or our shield of faith. We do not take our eyes off the target – the faithfulness of God.

This verse says we may even become heartsick – grieved and weary. We may feel like all we do is beg God to act. Believe me, I’m there. “But” – oh how I love the “buts” in the Bible – “when dreams come true at last there is life and Joy” You know what jumps out at me? “When” not “if.” When the arrow hits the target dead center. When God comes through. And I’m counting on God to come through. Beloved, take up your position, don’t drop your faith, and keep your eyes on the Lord. When. Not if.

Waiting on God

Psalm 106 is a “Salvation History Psalm” – a retelling of God rescuing His people from slavery in Egypt.  You know the story: God brought the Israelites out of bondage and led them to the edge of the Red Sea – impassable waters in front of them and their enemy close on their heels.  He made a way through the sea and when the last Israelite foot cleared the dry sea bed, He closed in the walls of water on Pharoah and His army.  The Scripture says, “Then [the Israelites] believed His promises and sang His praise” (v. 12).  Wouldn’t you?  If God had done a miraculous thing for you, wouldn’t you believe?  Wouldn’t you sing a chorus of, “You’re a good, good, Father!”?

But wait. The next verse says: “But they soon forgot what He had done and did not wait for His plan to unfold” (v. 13).  And they grumbled. On the heels of the Red Sea miracle. Remember the celebration in verse 12? Check out verses 24-25: “They did not believe His promise. They grumbled in their tents and did not obey the Lord.” Makes me want to shake my head.  They failed to trust God – the same God who had rescued them in dramatic fashion just a few weeks before.

But, let’s be honest here, don’t you and I do the same thing?  God works powerfully on our behalf and we celebrate and sing His praises and the next time we face a challenge, we worry.  We forget what God did and focus on the new hardship as if God used it all up on the first one.  Or maybe that’s just me. 

I wrote in the margin: “Lord, I want to always believe Your promises and sing Your praises while I am still waiting.”  I am there right now – waiting. And trusting.  And reminding myself of His powerful acts of the past, how he made a way where I couldn’t see a way. How He softened hard hearts. How he rescued someone I love. And I know He will do it again. So I’m gonna sing His praises now, during the crisis, not just after. 

Have you forgotten His goodness to you?  The God who was faithful yesterday will not be unfaithful today. He is the same good Father who carried you through the last storm – and He will not abandon you now.  Beloved, come sit here with me, and let’s praise the Lord while we wait.

Acts: The Church

Whenever we moved to a new town, among our first priorities was to find a church. My husband and I both grew up in church. We met in a church and enjoyed the blessings of the community of faith. Church is the place we “belong.” It is also a place we love.

The first believers established the church concept as Luke recorded it in the book of Acts. In Acts 2:42-47 he described life in this little Christian community: “They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and to the fellowship, to the breaking of bread, and to prayer” (v. 42).  The apostles accepted Jesus’ commission to “teach them to obey every I have commanded you” (Mat 28:20). Their priority was teaching and the church’s role was learning for the purpose of obedience. Not just to fill their heads with information about Jesus, but to understand who He was/is, to understand His mission, and to follow Him in it.

They also gave themselves to “the fellowship” – notice the “the.” It wasn’t about the camaraderie; it was about what Paul would later call “the body.” One people with many moving parts all working together for one purpose: The glory of Christ and the expanse of His kingdom. And there were elements that fostered that oneness: “the breaking of bread and prayer.” This means both sharing mutual common meals and sharing in the sacred meal of communion. One of the most powerful experiences I’ve had was serving the communion elements. As I handed each person a piece of bread, I said, “This is the Body of Christ, broken for you.” That communion service brought the reality of being part of the Body to life for me. It was profound and I’ve never forgotten it.

The first church also gathered regularly and faithfully to pray. Something tells me they didn’t pray for Aunt June’s infected toenail, but they prayed for power, boldness, opportunities, wisdom, and direction. Then again, maybe they did pray for Aunt June for they shared their lives, their needs, their sorrows, their struggles, and their possessions. They were one in every way.

But I want to draw your mind to one word: “devoted.” This means they gave the community of faith their constant attention. Church wasn’t squeezed into their busy lives when they found the time. Their life was lived around and among the body of believers and their shared faith. They were together in the temple and in their homes. The temple was the place of witness and homes were the place for fellowship – for “glad and sincere hearts” joined together in “praising God.”

Are you a devoted part of a local church? Not just there when there’s nothing else on your calendar, but regularly, faithfully, wholeheartedly. You will find no better place to grow, heal, learn, lean, and give yourself away. Beloved, find your place in the Body.

Joy!

One day the Lord will make it all right again. One day wickedness and evil will be cast away and righteousness and holiness will rule. One day God will pave “the Way of Holiness” where only the redeemed will walk (Is 35:8, 9). One day blind eyes will see, deaf ears will hear, the lame will leap, and the mute will shout for Joy” (v. 5-6). One day “sorrow and sighing will flee away and gladness and Joy will overtake [us]” (v. 10). One day all of God’s creation will “burst into bloom; it will rejoice greatly and shout for Joy” (v. 2).

Did you notice all the Joy? It is the theme of this Psalm. It is the promise of God for eternity “Everlasting Joy will crown [our] heads” (v. 10). Not a “good days” kind of happiness. Not warm fuzzies because you got flowers at work. Not even the feeling you had on your wedding day or the birth of your children. Because we know that bad days will still happen. Those pretty flowers will wither away soon. Your spouse will disappoint you, even make you angry, and your kid will have an epic meltdown. The kind of Joy Isaiah spoke of doesn’t come from circumstances, your family’s behavior, or a day at the beach. This Joy is the theme of heaven.

Heavenly Joy sounds wonderful. But we’re not there yet. What do we do while we’re still here on earth? “Strengthen the feeble hands, steady the knees that give way; say to those with fearful hearts, ‘Be strong, do not fear; your God will come . . . He will come to save you’” (v. 3-4). We strengthen and steady ourselves and encourage one another. We keep our focus on the Lord and remember His faithfulness, power, and love. We soak up His Word. We bring our concerns to Him in prayer. And we come together to lift one another up with the hope of His return.

I’ve had to take my own advice this week. Some important things are out of my hands and I’ve had to constantly cry out to God, lay my anxiety down, and mentally redirect my thoughts. And I’ve had good sisters in the faith praying and encouraging me. Yes, everlasting Joy is our promise. But hope is our strength as we wait. I’ll tell you what I’ve told myself all week: God. Will. Not. Fail. You. Be encouraged. Beloved. Your God will come.

The Rest of the Story

I’m living in the middle of a story that is causing me a lot of anxiety. I can’t see what is happening, I have no control over the particulars. I don’t know how this will end – or when. I am keeping an open prayer line to God and running to it often when panic wants to raise its ugly head. Somebody reading this can relate. I know a father with a demon-possessed son could too.  Please take a moment and read Mark 9:17-27 to get the scope of the story.

When we read accounts in the Bible today, as Paul Harvey said, we know “the rest of the story.”  But the people in the story didn’t.  Think about this from the father’s perspective – in real-time – as he stands before Jesus with pleading eyes, “If you can do anything, take pity on us and help us” (Mark 9:22).  Stay in the moment as we see Jesus turn to the child and speak with authority, “I command you to come out of him and never enter him again” (v. 25).  Watch as “the spirit shrieked, convulsed him violently and came out” (v. 26)” But wait, what did Jesus do?  The boy looks dead – like a corpse!  The father brought his boy to Jesus and Jesus made everything worse.

Now, freeze the scene right here and consider this: just as the father lived out his story in real-time, you and I are also living out our story without the advantage of a written script that tells us how it all ends.  All we know is, right now, at this moment, the anxiety is high.

“But Jesus . . .” these are the most precious words in the Bible to me.  “But Jesus took [the boy] by the hand and lifted him to his feet” v. 27).  Wonder of wonders, the boy is not dead – he is alive – and healed!  He runs into his father’s arms with a smile of triumph. His father bends to kiss his son’s head with a look of amazement and Joy.

May I remind you not to give up on Jesus?  He can see the end from the middle. That moment when all seems lost, just as it was for this father, might be the moment just before all is found. Bring your need to Jesus, give Him room to work, and don’t lose hope. Beloved, your story isn’t over yet.

Lean on God

My son called us early this morning fully dressed in his army uniform and hat with an anxious expression on his face. I remember that look well. I saw it on his first day of school. I saw it when he was a teenager and had to explain his actions to a police officer. I saw it when he faced things that were scary and unknown. That look of “I don’t know if I can do this.” He’s a grown man, but the boy was there on the screen, wiping away a tear from his eye. He starts the full run of basic combat training. It’s going to be hard. They will break him. The worst part, he said, is he won’t be allowed to call home for the first couple of weeks. Talking to his wife and daughter and mom has gotten him through. But we won’t have us for a while.

This will be the hardest thing he’s ever done, and he’s overwhelmed. Maybe you understand. You might be in the middle of the hardest thing you’ve ever faced right now and you don’t know how you will make it. I will tell you the same thing I told him. This is when you lean hard on God. When grief and sorrow overwhelm you, lean on God. When your body is racked with pain and fever, lean on God. When you walk out of your workplace with your possessions in a box, when the gas tank, the pantry, and your purse are empty, when the one who vowed to love you walks away, when you sit helplessly beside your loved one’s hospital bed . . . lean on God. When you head off to boot camp, lean on God. And when my son wipes away tears of anxiety 425 miles away, I’ve got to lean on God too.

What does that look like? A lot of prayer. A lot of time in the Word of God. And more prayer. And when the wave of anxiety or depression or anger or grief hits I pray more and read more and lean more. Because God is faithful. Every scenario I mentioned, I’ve lived through – or I should say God carried me through. He was with me in every one. He was my strength and my comfort. He was my hope and my peace. And now, I am entrusting my son into His hands. I reminded Troy of that before we signed off the call together. I’m reminding myself of that too. Beloved, whatever you face right now, lean hard on God. “Trust in the Lord with all your heart . . .” (Prov. 3:5). You’re in His hands – and there’s no better place to be.

Solid Faith

Waking up on Easter morning when I was a kid meant a new dress and new shoes and an Easter basket at the foot of my bed, a smiling chocolate Easter bunny who stared at me with his little frosting eyes and beckoned me to nibble on his ears. Oh, I could not resist his charms. One year I pulled my chocolate friend out of his cellophane home and bit down on his ear and got a shock. The chocolate caved in and broke apart because the bunny was hollow inside! Mom didn’t realize the bunnies she bought for us were not solid. My brothers and I felt cheated. We had counted on solid milk chocolate that we could gnaw on for several days. We got a thin veneer of chocolate that was gone before bedtime that day. There was no substance to our chocolate Easter bunnies, they were just a shell.

Paul warned believers to be on guard against “hollow and deceptive philosophies” (Colossians 2:8) of this world that will try to fool us and draw us away from the solid truth of Christ Jesus. They are a very real and present danger to Christians. Unlike Christ, in whom is “all the fullness of [God]” (v. 9), they are empty and foolish and they crumble under the bite of real life. Unlike Christ, who is eternal, these philosophies have no substance and no staying power, they are founded on the shifting values and priorities of the world. And unlike Christ who is the Truth, they are rooted in lies and deception. At their core, they deny the reality of God and His authority and put humanity on the throne of existence (Romans 1:18-25). Sadly, they are not limited to the world; they are prevalent in the church as well. In Paul’s day, it was the “higher knowledge” gospel and the “Mosaic-law” gospel. Today we have the “prosperity” gospel, the “social” gospel, the “humanitarian” gospel, the “political” gospel, and on and on. All of these are hollow shells of the gospel of Jesus Christ.

Beloved, when the winds of hardship howl and the heat of spiritual battle rages, you need something more than a hollow, Easter-bunny faith. You need something you can depend on, something that will last. You need the truth of God, His Son, and His Word. You need a faith that will not crumble. You need the solid rock that is Jesus.

Taking Back the Church

I have come to believe that it’s time for believers to fight for our faith. Not with pitchforks or guns or verbal attacks across the aisle. There’s a better way and it will do us well to learn it and live it. Join me in the book of Jude.

His opening words set the tone: “I felt I had to write and urge you to contend for the faith that was once for all entrusted to the saints” (v. 3). Jude wrote about the danger of “godless men” slipping into the church to “change the grace of our God into a license for immorality and deny Jesus Christ our only Sovereign and Lord” (v. 4). If ever a verse applied to the church, it is this. It is appalling and grievous to see the immoral condition of the Body of Christ. But it’s also apparent that this has been going on for a very long time.

Jude warned his readers that these wicked people have no regard for the things of God. Their motive is to cause disruption and discord – “these are the men who divide you (v. 19). They are: grumblers and faultfinders; they follow their own evil desires; they boast about themselves, flatter others for their own advantage . . . follow mere natural instincts, and do not have the Spirit” (v. 16, 19). I know Jude was talking about his own day, but it’s almost as if he was peering into the future – to the twenty-first century.

So how do we fight? How do we take our church back from the vile hands of wicked people? Jude gave the battle plan: “But you, dear friends, built yourselves up in your most holy faith and pray in the Holy Spirit. Keep yourselves in God’s love as you wait for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ to bring you to eternal life” (vs. 20-21). That’s it? How is that “contending” for the faith? Where’s the fight? In the spiritual realm.  Paul said it best: “Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good” (Rom 12:21). We chase away darkness by introducing light. We drive away wickedness by living in righteousness.

The truth is Beloved, you’re in this battle whether you wanted to be or not, so you’d better learn how to fight. Put down your pitchfork and pick up your Bible.  We’ll reclaim the church by being the holy people of God.

The Most Encouraging Word You’ll Ever Hear

When I sit down at my desk every morning to write I look at my Bible and wonder, “Where do I start?” Every word on every page is important and valuable. It’s hard to pluck a small bit of text out of this wonderful, blessed book. So I ask Him to speak through me because He knows you so well. He knows exactly what you need. He knows me too and He speaks to me as much as He speaks through me.

Today He sent me to 2 Peter 3 – a wonderful word of hope. No, it’s not an “everything’s gonna be all right, just you wait and see” kind of encouragement – it’s better. The context tells us that his readers are under much duress and persecution by “scoffers who come scoffing and following their own evil desires” (v. 3). They deny the existence of God and His work of creation. They “deliberately forget” that He has the authority to judge “ungodly men” (vs. 5-7). They rejected His Word and His people. Sound familiar? Some things never change.

Peter’s audience was growing weary of evil and persecution – just as we are. They wanted to know when God was going to keep His word and pronounce judgment. Then Peter says, “Do not forget this one thing, dear friends . . .” (v. 8). This is the message he knows will reach their minds and their hearts. “The Lord is not slow in keeping His promises . . .” “the day of the Lord will come” (v. 9-10). Make no mistake – God will punish evil. But in His grace, He is giving men time to repent. If you have lost loved ones, that is good news.

Then Peter brings it all back to the Christian – to you and me. In light of God’s faithfulness, “what kind of people ought you to be” (v. 11)? People who “live holy and godly lives” and “look forward to the day of God” (v. 11-12).

The greatest, most encouraging, and hopeful promise I can share is this: Jesus is coming again. No, I mean: JESUS IS COMING AGAIN! He will gather us together and take us home. He will judge all the wickedness and evil that grieves us so. He will make all things right. Just “wait a little longer” (Rev. 6:11), Beloved, and keep your eyes on the eastern sky.