Even if . . .

 “Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines,

though the olive fails and the fields produce no food,

though there are no sheep in the pen and no cattle in the stalls . . .” (Habakkuk 3:17)

I confess this is not my favorite verse. Especially not right now. I want the fig tree to bud. I want grapes on the vine. I want olives and sheep and cattle. I want God to set things right. I want the huge hole in my heart to be filled with Joy again. Maybe you know where I’m coming from. Something has rocked your world and left you in pain. Someone walked away. Someone passed away. You received a scary diagnosis. Your workplace shut down. You got a foreclosure notice in the mail. And all you can do is beg God to fix it.

I’m not a Pollyanna by nature – I don’t gravitate toward optimism. Neither did Habakkuk. In the opening of the Old Testament book that bears his name, he said, “How long, O Lord . . .” (1:2). How long until you answer and rescue your people from their enemy? How long will you tolerate these wicked people? How long will you let us suffer? Sounds a lot like me right now – “How long God will you let this drag on?”

But somewhere along the way, something changed in Habakkuk’s message – and in his heart – and I think I know what it is. “The Lord is in His holy temple . . .” (2:20). God is still on His throne and very much in control. The Sovereign of the universe has not let anything – not figs or grapes or olives or sheep or cattle – or little girls – slip from His hands. And that is why, even when there is nothing in Jerusalem to rejoice over, Habakkuk can say, “ . . .yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will be Joyful in God my Savior” (3:18). Because God is always God.

In this hard season of my life, I am learning that God is worth rejoicing over even when my heart is heavy. God is still good. He is still able. He is still faithful. He is still God. Beloved, that is something to rejoice about.

When You Pray

David was a King, and a gifted poet and writer. He was also a man with real hurts and real emotions. He expressed raw, deep, honest pain, wild, enthusiastic rejoicing, and the ebb and flow of faith and confidence we all experience.  Psalm 31 is one that covers the whole gamut. Take a moment and read this psalm and meet me back here.

This is a Psalm of Lament, a song David wrote when he felt trapped by his enemy (v. 4), weak with sorrow and grief (v. 9), and consumed by anguish (v. 10). He was being slandered and terrorized (v. 13). In vivid imagery he said, “I have become like broken pottery” (v. 12). Useless and only good for scraping painful sores (Job 2:8). David was about a low as a man can go.

And yet . . .

David took refuge in the Lord (v. 1). He cried out for rescue (v. 2), mercy (v. 9), and deliverance (v. 15). And then he put his whole trust in God. He called God his Refuge (v. 4), and rejoiced in His faithfulness (v. 14), goodness (v. 19), and wonderful love (v. 21). He poured out his broken heart, and poured in the healing balm of faith.

There is something I saw in this Psalm, that I believe is the key to trusting God in these hard, painful seasons. In verse 2, David pleads, “Be my rock of refuge; a strong fortress to save me. Then he immediately says, “Since you are my Rock and my Fortress, for the sake of Your name, lead and guide me” (v. 3). Do you see it? “Be . . . Since you are . . .” David asked, and then he trusted.  

I confess, very often I have prayed and then still fretted. I have pleaded and continued to worry. That is not the way of faith. Jesus said, “Whatever you ask for in prayer, believe that you have received it and it will be yours” (Mk 11:24). That’s NOT a “name it and claim it verse.” It is a “Be . . . Since you are . . .” verse.

I am praying over a very hard situation in my family right now. I trust that the Lord hears and cares and will act according to His wisdom and perfect will. You can too. You can be assured that He will hear and He will help (v. 22) “Be strong,” Beloved, “and take heart and hope in the Lord” (v. 24).

The Peace of God in the Storms of Life

I need a word from the Lord this morning. I need to hear from the God who watches over little girls who are not where they should be and comforts broken-hearted Nanas. I wanted something like: “Don’t you worry, I’ll fix this.” But that’s not the word I got. The Spirit led me to Philippians 4:4-7: “Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near.  Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.”

Rejoice. You’re kidding, right? No, He’s not. Rejoice. Not just when it’s all good and the sun is shining. Always. Now. When it hurts. When you don’t understand.

Be gentle. Actually, He’s not commanding an act on my part, He is reminding me to bear forth the fruit of His Spirit – gentleness – as I deal with the people and the situation. God knew when He gave me that word at the beginning of the year that I would need it right now.

Don’t be anxious. I need to tell that to my knotted-up stomach and my hammering heart. Literally.

Pray. I like the way The Message says it: “shape your worries into prayers, letting God know your concerns.” And petition Him. “Go boldly to the throne of grace” (Heb 4:16 emphasis added). ASK. “ASK and keep on asking, SEEK and keep on seeking, KNOCK and keep on knocking” (from Mat 7:7).

With thanksgiving. Yes, thanksgiving. Because God has been trustworthy in the past. Because He loves her more than I ever could. Because He can be where I cannot. Because He is still writing this story.

And because He plants four words in the middle of this passage that we often overlook but speak volumes: “The Lord is near.”

Rejoice–because the Lord is near. Be gentle—because the Lord is near. Don’t be anxious–because the Lord is near. Pray with thankfulness–because the Lord is near. I can have the peace of God that is unfathomable–because the Lord is near. My heart and my mind – and my stomach – need God’s peace.

I didn’t exactly write this one for you today, I wrote it for me. But I’ll share it with you because it’s His Word for us all. And because, Beloved, through it all—the Lord is near.

Hebrews: A Sacrifice of Praise

Several years ago I had a serious mental and emotional crash. It was the most terrifying experience of my life. I descended into a pit of depression and despair that was so deep I thought I would never see the sun again. Oh, I continued to go to church every Sunday and stood with the congregation during praise and worship. But I couldn’t sing. I wept. One day as I was driving, Crowder’s song, “Oh Praise Him” came on the radio. I felt a nudge in my spirit, “Sing child.” “I can’t” I replied, as tears began to burn my eyes. “Sing anyway.” So I choked out the first chorus, “Oh, praise Him. O praise Him. He is holy. He is holy.” I kept singing – or croaking – to be honest. But by the end of that song, I was singing clearly, “Oh, la, la, la, la, la, la” with tears streaming down my face. That was the day my healing began.

The author of Hebrews wrote, “Through Jesus, therefore, let us continually offer to God a sacrifice of praise – the fruit of lips that confess His name” (Heb 13:15). I understand this verse. Sometimes praise is the hardest thing you’ll ever do. Remember, this was written to Jewish believers in Christ who were facing extreme oppression and persecution for their faith. Many were turning away from Christ and abandoning the faith because it was just getting too hard. The author implored them to instead offer praise to God in their suffering, even if it came at a high cost.

I won’t deny that life is hard and pain is real. But God is still worthy of praise. He is still good. He is still sovereign. He is still awesome in power. He is still holy. And He is with us in our pain. David said, “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted . . .” (Ps 34:18). If that’s you today, let me assure you that God is near. He has not abandoned you in your heartache. He has tenderly drawn you close. If you’re still you can feel His breath ruffling your hair. If you listen you can hear His heart beating. Then you may hear Him say, “Sing, child.” I know. It’s not easy. But sing anyway Beloved, even if all you can do is whisper through your tears. He’ll hear you. He’s not listening to your words; He’s listening to your heart.

Consider it All Joy (part 2)

Yesterday’s devotional started a conversation about God’s purposes in our suffering. We’re going to continue today in part two. I’ll post a link to part one in the comments.

Sometimes trials are a means of discipline in our lives – I know this one well.  The psalmist declared, “Before I was afflicted I went astray, but now I obey Your Word” (Psalm 119:67).  Hebrews adds, “No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful.  Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it” (Hebrews 12:11).  Trials that come as a consequence of our sinful and foolish behavior are meant to teach us valuable life lessons.  Or as my mother said, “Bought lessons stay with you longer than taught lessons.”  If you can connect your trial to your actions, take that as a means of discipline and training. The writer of Hebrews also said that discipline identifies us as God’s true children. “Endure hardship as discipline; God is treating you as sons. For what son is not disciplined by his father?” (See Hebrews 12:5-10). Discipline means that God is being a good Father to you.

Our trials reveal God to the world.  When Jesus and His disciples encountered a man who had been blind from birth, He said, “This happened so that the work of God might be displayed in his life” (John 9:3). When the Lord healed this man everyone knew it, and he became a living testimony to the power of God.  You and I are the canvas on which God paints His own portrait for the world to see.  Just as silver and gold show up most brilliantly against a dark backdrop, the power and glory of God are on vivid display in our trials.  Our difficulties become the means by which God shows up and shows off.

Beloved, I don’t know what trial you are facing today, but I know that God has brought you to it for a good purpose.  He is at work in your life, stretching your faith, moving you into His will, preparing you to minister to someone else, teaching you discipline, and making your life a display of His glory.  Every trial is an opportunity for you and me to draw closer to our Father, to walk by faith, and to point others to Him.  Yes, we can count it all Joy when trials come, because we know God has a purpose and a plan – and we will be the richer for it.

“Blessed is the man who perseveres under trial, because when he has stood the test, he will receive the crown of life that God has promised to those who love Him” (James 1:12).

God is For You

“It’ll all be made right in heaven.”

I remember so well the sweet lady who spoke those words to me at my mom’s funeral. She followed a theme that many others had said to comfort me and my family in our grief. And they are right. God will set all wrong things right one day. All the hard things. All the sad things. All the things that were unfair and unkind. Even all the things that were caused by evil. Paul assures us: “I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us” (Rom 8:18). All our tears will be replaced with shouts of Joy.

But in your present moment of pain, heaven seems pretty far away, doesn’t it? Is there any hope for you now? I believe there is. Listen to what David said when he was in a difficult place: “How great is Your goodness, which You have stored up for those who fear You, which You bestow in the sight of men on those who take refuge in You” (Ps 31:19). In the sight of men. Men here on earth. God’s goodness, David said, is not just for the hereafter; it’s for the here and now. It’s for today.

How can I be so sure? Because, in Paul’s words, “God is for us” (Rom 8:31). No, I don’t think you get the whole gest of that phrase. “For us” means on our side, but not just on our side; He is, in the Greek, exceedingly, abundantly on our side. Now take that personally and say with me, “The God of heaven and earth is exceedingly, abundantly on my side.” I can also be sure because I have seen Him at work many times in the hard places in my life. He has taken what others have done against me and brought something good out of it.  He has taken the unexpected trials in my life and blessed me in awesome ways.  He has even taken my sin and foolishness and brought wisdom and ministry out of them. That’s how I can be so sure.

Another verse is marked in my Bible with dates and memories of a time that was so hard I honestly thought it was going to kill me. “I am still confident of this: I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living” (Ps 27:13). I clung to those words like a man in an ocean clings to a life preserver. And I did see the goodness of the Lord. And many years later I can testify that I still see His goodness every day. So will you, Beloved. God is for you. Right here in the land of the living.

The Way of Wisdom

I am not a young chick anymore – I’m nearing #62 at the end of the year. I know some of you are well ahead of me, but this number has really caught my attention. What have I done with those 62 years? Did I do anything I set out to do with my life? The truth is, I didn’t know what I wanted to do for a very long time. I thought life would just unfold before me and the choices would make themselves. I never knew that my life had a purpose. I wish someone had told me that when I was younger. It would have changed everything for me. What I studied in school, the people I hung out with, and especially the choices I made. You can bet I will tell my granddaughter.

I came across Moses’ Psalm and one verse, in particular, that is highlighted in my Bible. “Teach us to number our days aright, that we may gain a heart of wisdom” (Psalm 90:12). Wisdom. I’ve been told that I am wise (that’s a shock to me!). I wish I could say it was because I numbered my days and carefully evaluated my life with every decision. The truth is, any wisdom I’ve gained has come through blood, sweat, and tears (No not, the 60’s rock group). It has come with scars and pain. I often quote my mom who said: “Bought lessons stay with you longer than taught lessons.” I have paid dearly for any small measure of wisdom I have. But I’ve learned some valuable life lessons this way. I’ve learned there are some things that I don’t want to ever do again because the cost was way too high. If that’s wisdom then, I guess I am wise.

Maybe you, like me, look back over years of mistakes and failures and self-destructive behavior. We did more wrong than we did right. We made some truly bad choices. But here’s a choice we can make today that can affect the poor choices of the past. We can wise up. If we wallow in our misery then we learned nothing from it. But if those hard lessons brought about good changes and especially brought us to the cross of Christ, then we’ve invested well.

Here’s where I hang my hope: God can take every mistake I’ve made, every failure, and every sin and teach me more than I could learn in scholarly books and classrooms. And they become common ground to reach out to other mistake-prone souls. Beloved, will you put your mistakes and scars in the hands of your good and loving Father? They tell a powerful story the world needs to hear.

Hebrews: The Joy of the Cross

I always thought my mom was super-human. She could power through any sickness and keep going and going and going. Even when she was undergoing cancer treatments. I hardly slowed her down – until the end. Either she had an uncommon strength – or she was a mom.

I always imagined Jesus facing the cross with His divine strength in full force. Surely the Son of God just shut out the pain and powered through. But the writer of Hebrews refutes that thought. He said that Jesus, “for the Joy set before Him,  endured the cross, scorning its shame . . .” (Heb 12:2) Endurance implies difficulty. Jesus endured the difficulty of the cross. It was all very real to Him. He felt the nails rip through His flesh, crush His bones, and tear His veins open. He felt the sharp points of the thorns dig deeply into His head. He felt the whip shred the skin on His back. His shoulders screamed with firey pain every time He took a breath. Jesus felt it all. He suffered.

He also suffered shame. The cross was a disgraceful way to die in the first century. But the shame that Jesus endured wasn’t personal embarrassment; the writer said that He “scored the shame” of the cross. He didn’t consider it as humiliation, though it was. He endured the cross with Joy because His suffering meant our freedom. The shame He experienced was bearing all the sins of all mankind throughout all the ages. Adam’s sin. Eve’s sin. Cain’s sin. David’s sin. Hitler’s sin. My sin. Your sin. It was the shame of the Father’s face turning away from the Son because He can not look on sin.

But I found something mind-blowing when I dug into the words used in this verse. Jesus endured it all. But He didn’t have to. The secondary meaning of the word “endure” means “to remain, to not flee.” Jesus could have ditched the cross and escaped the physical, emotional, and spiritual agony. Then I understood His words when He was arrested: “Do you think I cannot call on my Father, and He will at once put at my disposal more than twelve legions of angels?” (Matt 26:53). Jesus could have escaped it all but He stayed. He suffered. He died. Why? To save you, Beloved.  The Joy set before Him was seeing your face in heaven. That’s how much He loves you.

Mistakes – I’ve Made a Few

When I study, I write with a pen in hand and put ink on paper – old school. It helps me remember things like I’m writing stuff directly in my brain. I was writing down a Scripture reference the other day and wrote the wrong number, (I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I do make mistakes) so I wrote the correct number over it. I traced it several times to make the right number show up better and cover over the wrong number, and in the process, I made the right number unreadable. I finally had to just scribble out the whole thing and rewrite it correctly and clearly.

Some of us are trying to fix our own mistakes. We’re trying to write over our sins and failures. We think, “If I just do enough things right, no one – especially God – will notice what I did wrong.” The problem is, the more we try to fix it, the worse we make it. Yep, I see you nodding your head. You’ve done it too.  And what we mess up is not a written word but ourselves.  If we keep going we will not even know who we are. Here’s the hard truth folks, you and I cannot overwrite our sins. God is not fooled. So stop trying.

God has a better plan. He said, “I, even I, am He who blots out your transgression, for my own sake, and remembers your sins no more” (Isaiah 43:25). The idea here is that all your sins are written down in a book and God erases them, No, even better than erasing them, He removes them forever by washing our sin-page – and us – with the blood of His Son. John put it like this: “The blood of Jesus purifies us from all sin” (1 John 1:7). All of it. Every. Single. One. Jesus’ blood makes us spotless, innocent, and pure with no trace of our former sin left behind. Does that seem too good to be true? Trust me, it is true. Better yet, trust Him.

 Give your mistakes to Jesus. Give Him every sin and every failure. Give Him the shame and the guilt. Give Him the pain and regret. Let Him cover over it all with His precious blood and rewrite your story with His grace. Then, Beloved, you will be who God created you to be. His.

Pebbles in Your Shoe

Satan would rather put a pebble in your shoe than a mountain in your path.  Why? Ever had a little pebble in your shoe?  Isn’t it amazing how something so small can be such a huge distraction? It is a constant irritation that will stop you in your tracks. Often it’s the minor, seemingly insignificant things that do the most damage. Fishermen in the sea of Galilee watched the skies diligently and hurried to shore at the first sign of a storm. But more boats were damaged by the steady slap-slap-slap of the constant smaller waves that slowly ate away at the boat’s wooden sides. The wise fisherman checked his boat daily for signs of wear that could give way unexpectedly in the middle of the sea.

 I am quick to call down the forces of heaven over those mountains – but pebbles are such small, insignificant things.  “I can’t bother God with that.”  We tend to put our needs into different boxes. “Too big for me,” or “too little for God.”  We call for prayer when Grandma is near death, our child is hurt in an accident, or amid a worldwide pandemic.  But we think that God does not want to be bothered with our petty problems.  Does He even care that your washing machine has died?   Should I even bother Him about the paper I need to write?  Why would God be concerned about a teething baby who has kept you up three nights in a row?  He is too busy for such petty little problems.

My friend, God cares about all your needs.  He wants to be involved in the “everydayness” of your life.  He wants you to come to Him with your frustrations and the demands of your day that wear you down.  1 Peter 5:7 says “Cast all your cares on Him, because He cares for you.” All your cares – not just the big ones.  Didn’t Jesus teach us to pray “Give us this day our daily bread.” (Matthew 6:11)? Daily bread. Daily needs. He is a daily God.

God has not left you to manage this life on your own.  He sees all issues you face.  He cares about the most intimate details of your life.  Take it all to Him Beloved, the big and small.  He is the God that moves mountains that stand in your way.  And pebbles that get in your shoe.