Around the world foreign embassies house ambassadors representing their homeland. They represent their state, the policies and beliefs to which their country adheres. Ambassadors do not represent themselves. They emulate the qualities of the one who sent them. We Christians represent God and His kingdom, a King and land marked by love, mercy, grace, purity, joy.
Paul writes “we are ambassadors for Christ, as though God were making an appeal through us” (II Cor 5:20a). God has sent us on a mission to reveal Him to the world. In all areas of our lives, we should act and speak in view of this responsibility—at home, at work, at Starbucks, in line, in the gym, in the airport, with friends, with family, with strangers.
We are not our own to live as we would choose. Just as a political ambassador reflects the interest of the state, so too we ought to reveal the kingdom of heaven. God left us on earth for a purpose, to show His love, grace, compassion to the world around us. He has left with the message of hope, and it is our responsibility to share this gospel with our words, our deeds, our lives.
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Friday, September 26, 2008
I Want More
My pastor recently defined salvation as God making everything right—creation, relationships, us. How I long for that day. I weary of this human nature that leads me away from the God I love. I tire of the battle between my flesh and his indwelling Spirit. I continue to fail in compassion, forgiveness, and love. I harbor resentment, seek revenge instead of grace, and do good deeds from wrong motivations.
I know his forgiveness, in that rich grace, covers the payment for such sins, but I want more. I want something new; I want redemption. I desire that new heart promised me. I long for the return of Christ, when he will restore me to his beautiful, loving, holy image. He will permanently remove my weary, sin-laden heart and replace it with a heart of life, beauty, and holiness. In that day, I will receive a glorified body. A body free from wrinkles, free from aches and pains, free from all effects of sin. No sorrow. No tears. No sin. God will make everything new. I will love without demand, exude kindness without deceit, live in the Spirit without a battle.
So each day, I wait. I hope for the return of the Savior whose words are trustworthy and true. He remembers his promise. This redemptive process he has begun, he will complete. Even now, God works, forming his heart in me. Slowly, I mature in godliness. And while I, with the rest of creation, groan, he labors to accomplish redemption. So I yield to God’s wisdom, to his present and future work in me, in creation, in the world.
I know his forgiveness, in that rich grace, covers the payment for such sins, but I want more. I want something new; I want redemption. I desire that new heart promised me. I long for the return of Christ, when he will restore me to his beautiful, loving, holy image. He will permanently remove my weary, sin-laden heart and replace it with a heart of life, beauty, and holiness. In that day, I will receive a glorified body. A body free from wrinkles, free from aches and pains, free from all effects of sin. No sorrow. No tears. No sin. God will make everything new. I will love without demand, exude kindness without deceit, live in the Spirit without a battle.
So each day, I wait. I hope for the return of the Savior whose words are trustworthy and true. He remembers his promise. This redemptive process he has begun, he will complete. Even now, God works, forming his heart in me. Slowly, I mature in godliness. And while I, with the rest of creation, groan, he labors to accomplish redemption. So I yield to God’s wisdom, to his present and future work in me, in creation, in the world.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
God in Our Grief
God cares about our pain. I often forget this truth when I suffer. My earthly tears tend to hide His heavenly face. But the truth is, as the fierce winds of grief swirl about us, God stands to offer us support, comfort, and understanding. He is “the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction so that we will be able to comfort those who are in any affliction with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God” (1 Cor 1:3, 4).
We live in a fallen world where, throughout our lives, we experience pain, struggles, and loss. We cannot escape these effects of sin. Hope, however, comes from trusting the God who redeems even painful events, bringing about our transformation. God miraculously causes all things in believers’ lives to work for good (Rom 8:28). This includes grief.
Furthermore, we have a Savior who walked on this earth and encountered the sorrows of life as a human. Recall the story of Jesus mourning the loss of His friend Lazarus (John 11:1–44). He hurt. He wept. He grieved. He experienced the overwhelming sense of loss that we often encounter in this broken world.
So when the winds of loss come against us, let our relationship with God help support us through the emotional whirlwind. Let us learn to receive understanding, compassion, and hope from the God of all comfort. He supports us through His love, His compassion, and His experience. And in knowing God more deeply, we will come to look more like Jesus (Rom 5:3-5).
We live in a fallen world where, throughout our lives, we experience pain, struggles, and loss. We cannot escape these effects of sin. Hope, however, comes from trusting the God who redeems even painful events, bringing about our transformation. God miraculously causes all things in believers’ lives to work for good (Rom 8:28). This includes grief.
Furthermore, we have a Savior who walked on this earth and encountered the sorrows of life as a human. Recall the story of Jesus mourning the loss of His friend Lazarus (John 11:1–44). He hurt. He wept. He grieved. He experienced the overwhelming sense of loss that we often encounter in this broken world.
So when the winds of loss come against us, let our relationship with God help support us through the emotional whirlwind. Let us learn to receive understanding, compassion, and hope from the God of all comfort. He supports us through His love, His compassion, and His experience. And in knowing God more deeply, we will come to look more like Jesus (Rom 5:3-5).
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Far From Home
“For our citizenship is in heaven from which we eagerly await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ.” - Phil 3:20 NASB
I remember the first time I visited a foreign country. The landscape, people, and culture captured my attention. While I enjoyed my stay, however, I knew I did not belong. My skin color, language and food preferences differed from the natives. Clearly, I was a visitor.
So too I often feel out of place in this world. I want love, but often find indifference. I long for perfect relationships, but have constant conflicts. I yearn for life, but see death. While sorrows usually only bring me pain, I find they also give me hope. They serve as tour guides pointing out the broken landscape, the wounded people, and the distorted culture of earth, ever reminding me of my absence from home.
As various problems arise, from spilt milk to loss of a job to the death of a loved one, I’m learning to understand the language they speak. I hear the whisper of hope. We can use our trials to remind us to look toward Christ’s return, to living in harmony with each other, and to enjoying life forever in the presence of our heavenly Father.
I remember the first time I visited a foreign country. The landscape, people, and culture captured my attention. While I enjoyed my stay, however, I knew I did not belong. My skin color, language and food preferences differed from the natives. Clearly, I was a visitor.
So too I often feel out of place in this world. I want love, but often find indifference. I long for perfect relationships, but have constant conflicts. I yearn for life, but see death. While sorrows usually only bring me pain, I find they also give me hope. They serve as tour guides pointing out the broken landscape, the wounded people, and the distorted culture of earth, ever reminding me of my absence from home.
As various problems arise, from spilt milk to loss of a job to the death of a loved one, I’m learning to understand the language they speak. I hear the whisper of hope. We can use our trials to remind us to look toward Christ’s return, to living in harmony with each other, and to enjoying life forever in the presence of our heavenly Father.
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Unfulfilled Promises
All these died in faith, without receiving the promises, but having seen them and having welcomed them from a distance, and having confessed that they were strangers and exiles on the earth. For those who say such things make it clear that they are seeking a country of their own (Heb 11:13-14).
I love, hate and need this passage. It reminds me that we don’t necessarily see the results of God's promises this side of heaven. I find this truth annoying. I want the promises today. Not tomorrow, not in twenty years. Now. Typically, I have read this text as encouragement to look towards Christ’s return when He will make all things new. Today, my lens gets more focused. I see that my hope includes a freedom from this fleshly body; that is, Christ will free me of the sin that hurts, distracts, and kills. I tire of the Christian struggle between godliness and selfishness. I weary of the conflict between knowing how I ought to live and the way I live. Instead of having a heart that loves God, I have a heart bent on self that alienates and mars relationships.
The promise of restoration and redemption will remain unfulfilled on earth. There's hope in that for me, one who continues to give in to the flesh, but who longs for more, who longs to love as her Savior. And perhaps the longing transforms, for hope itself has a way of healing. So today, I press on towards His righteousness, knowing that my healing will fully take place in a much better world:
And indeed if they had been thinking of that country from which they went out, they would have had opportunity to return. But as it is, they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God; for He has prepared a city for them (Heb 11:15-16).
I love, hate and need this passage. It reminds me that we don’t necessarily see the results of God's promises this side of heaven. I find this truth annoying. I want the promises today. Not tomorrow, not in twenty years. Now. Typically, I have read this text as encouragement to look towards Christ’s return when He will make all things new. Today, my lens gets more focused. I see that my hope includes a freedom from this fleshly body; that is, Christ will free me of the sin that hurts, distracts, and kills. I tire of the Christian struggle between godliness and selfishness. I weary of the conflict between knowing how I ought to live and the way I live. Instead of having a heart that loves God, I have a heart bent on self that alienates and mars relationships.
The promise of restoration and redemption will remain unfulfilled on earth. There's hope in that for me, one who continues to give in to the flesh, but who longs for more, who longs to love as her Savior. And perhaps the longing transforms, for hope itself has a way of healing. So today, I press on towards His righteousness, knowing that my healing will fully take place in a much better world:
And indeed if they had been thinking of that country from which they went out, they would have had opportunity to return. But as it is, they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God; for He has prepared a city for them (Heb 11:15-16).
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