The God Who Remembers

“Therefore the Lord Himself will give you a sign: Behold, a virgin will be with child and bear a son, and she will call His name Immanuel.”
~ Is 7:14 ~

Around 735 B.C. Isaiah prophesied to King Ahaz and those around him that God would cause a virgin to give birth to a son, the promise of God’s presence with His people. I wonder how the king and his court first responded to such news. Did they spend a few days or months listening for word of a pregnant virgin? Did the people believe God was coming soon? Maybe they did. And maybe they gave up looking after awhile, for over 700 years went by with no ultimate fulfillment to this prophecy.[1] No virgin birth. No promised son. No Savior of the world. Seven-hundred seemingly empty years.

To many people it must have seemed as if God forgot. I know that’s how I tend to respond when God seems inactive, silent. I often begin to grumble, complain, doubt. At times, I stop expecting God to do anything. Maybe you too have experienced long periods of time where God seemed absent, quiet, unmoving. Maybe today your hope wanes as time silences the voice of promise you once heard. Perhaps you have financial, marital, emotional concerns. Maybe you or a family member has health problems. Perhaps you feel lonely or spent from worry. The good news is that Christmas offers a gift to our wearied hope. Christmas reminds us that God remembers.

The virgin gave birth. The Son came forth. The name Immanuel given. What God promised He fulfilled. This Christmas, we can find hope by remembering that God remembers. He knows His promises. And He knows us. He is intimately acquainted with our needs, desires and dreams. We can wholeheartedly hope in whatever God has promised, for Christmas tells us He will come through. Maybe not during the time frame we have set. Maybe not in quite the way we thought. But in whatever time or way, God will provide.

So this Christmas reflect on the fulfilled promise of Christ’s birth. Meditate on God’s faithfulness. Search the Scriptures. Discover God’s promises. Then rest in hope, for just as He sent His Son in the likeness of a baby so will He fulfill the rest of His promises.

“[A]n angel of the Lord appeared to [Joseph] in a dream, saying, ‘Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife; for the Child who has been conceived in her is of the Holy Spirit. She will bear a Son; and you shall call His name Jesus, for He will save His people from their sins.’ Now all this took place to fulfill what was spoken by the Lord through the prophet: ‘Behold, the virgin shall be with child and shall bear a son, and they shall call his name Immanuel,” which translated means ‘God With Us.’”

~ Matthew 1:20-22 ~

[1] Theologians debate over how exactly Isaiah's prophecy was fulfilled. For more information, see “Immanuel-God with Us!” in Nelson’s New Illustrated Bible Commentary, eds., Earl Radmacher, Ronald B. Allen, H.Wayne House, p. 816.

My Chosen Master

A bond-servant refers to one who voluntarily sells him or herself into the slavery of another. That is, he or she forfeits his or her freedom to come under the rule of another person. John and other biblical authors use this term to describe the Christian's relationship with Christ. At least in theory.

I couldn’t help but wonder if someone would use this term to describe my relationship with Him. Would my friends and family? Would I? Would God? Have I surrendered my freedom to His authority?

To help answer this question, I looked up the word authority in Webster’s dictionary. Here’s what I found:

authority: 1) citation used in support of a statement or in defense of an action; also: the source of such a citation 2) one appealed to as an expert 3) power to influence thought or behavior 4) freedom granted: right 5) persons in command; esp: government 6) convincing force

So I wonder, who or what do I let influence my thoughts, my feelings, my actions? Who convinces me of my decisions? If the world says one thing and God says another, what do my actions reveal about who I have sold myself to?

The world tells me to live my life for me; God says the life I live I live for Him. The world says that pleasure is supreme; God says knowing Him brings ultimate joy. The world tells me to seek comfort; God calls me to seek His kingdom. The worlds tell me to demand what is mine; God wants me to sacrifice myself for the benefit of others. The world obsesses over sex; God obsesses over His Son, His glory. The world loves power; God delights in humility. The world hoards its goods; God cares for the poor and impoverished. The world seeks proof; God authors faith. The world says your best life is now; God offers a new life created for the new heaven and earth.

As I separate the two masters’ voices, I sense that I often come under the command of the world. But I long to have my heart set free from such influence. I want to join with John and other believers who have sold themselves into the hands of the kind, wise, gentle Master.

May His Spirit be the power that influences my, along with all believers, interactions, thoughts, motivations. As John writes, “For all that is in the world, the lust of the flesh and the lust of the eyes and the boastful pride of life, is not from the Father, but is from the world. The world is passing away, and also its lusts; but the one who does the will of God lives forever” (I John 2:16, 17).

Questions, God's Invitations

At church this morning the Young Adult pastor spoke on the importance of studying Scripture. He pointed out that reading the Word invokes tons of questions. He went so far as to say that if when we read the Bible we don’t have questions, we’re not really reading it. I couldn’t agree more.

In another blog entry (“Transforming Questions” October 2008), I wrote on this very topic. Questions, I'm beginning to see, are like invitations from Christ. He invites us on a journey of seeking and finding, where we seek answers and find Him. For if we never wonder, we never pursue.

So what are some questions you have? Maybe God is calling you to an exploration, an adventure to come and investigate, to search and find the treasures of His heart. Let us brave the mystery and courageously walk forward and open the Word. May we not fear the confusion or the frustration. Instead may we hope that we will find what we seek.

My invitations:
Why faith?
How does the Spirit operate? What does it mean to walk by the Spirit?
Why did God give the laws He gave in the Mosaic Law? Wouldn't we have known we were sinners apart from these rules?
What does sin look like to God?
Why does God permit such suffering in the world? Is witnessing His glory through painful circumstances (e.g. blind man since birth story in John; enduring earth until Christ’s return) really that much better than not having any pain in the first place?
What did Jesus feel on the cross?
How do God’s sovereignty and humanity’s liberty coincide?

One Thing

“One thing I have asked from the LORD, that I shall seek: that I may dwell in the house of the LORD all the days of my life, to behold the beauty of the LORD and to mediate in His temple” (Ps 27:4).

In Psalm 27, David says he longs for one thing. I wonder at his small list. How can he ask for only one? I crave so many things. I seek comfort, love, friendship, security. I want a good job. I want stability. I want peace.

As I think on the things I seek, I wonder if David limited his list to one because much of what I crave he found in God. In His presence, David discovered abundant joy (Ps 16). He had purpose because he knew God’s calling (Ps 139). He found comfort in God his refuge (Ps 61). He rested in the security of the Lord's love and sovereignty (Ps 23). In the Almighty, he had a confidant like no other (Ps 28).

Whereas it seems David came to one Fountain to drink, I often seek many reservoirs. Like the people of Israel I haul broken cisterns that can hold no water (Jer 2:13). Today I’m challenged to stop slurping from the cracked basins of work, recognition, financial security, friends and family. These, not able to satiate, instead create a thirst for Living Waters.

My soul hears the voice of God, “Ho! Every one who thirsts, come to the waters; and you who have no money come, buy and eat. Come, buy wine and milk without money and without cost. Why do you spend money for what is not bread, and your wages for what does not satisfy? Listen carefully to Me, and eat what is good, and delight yourself in abundance” (Is 55:1, 2).

With that kind of invitation how can I, along with those who thirst for more, resist? May we learn to drop empty cisterns and ask from the Lord one thing—Himself.

Worry Like A River

From the beginning when Kate wakes in the morning, she worries. She wonders if the coffee machine will work. Will her kids fight her about what to wear? What if her son misbehaves in school? How will she deal with the teacher? And lunches… did she make the kids’ lunches last night? Will her husband be safe on his way to work? He usually runs late, which will cause him to speed. What if he gets in an accident? And the Bible study she leads later today…. did she prepare enough questions? Are they good questions? And all these thoughts rush through her mind before she lifts her head from the pillow.

In the above example, Kate’s thoughts flow out of control, just like a river that has overflowed its banks. Picture the water rushing into unwanted places, destroying land, damaging property, producing life-threatening situations. So too our uncontained thoughts can destroy our lives. To bring relief, the waters need to ebb and flow freely within their banks. Similarly we need to bring back our thoughts within the protection of their God-given banks.

So when overcome with worry, how can we help these flooded thoughts recede?

Paul helps us answer this question in his letter to the Philippians. In this epistle, Paul sought to encourage his friends, who like many of us, felt overcome with anxiety. He writes, “Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all comprehension, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus” (Phil 4:6, 7).

When I first read this passage I wonder if Paul ever worried. How can gratitude solve anxiety? The two do not seem to go together. Tell us to meditate, problem solve, go for a run. But say a prayer of thanksgiving?

So I started thinking about what happens when we thank God. I realized that thanksgiving is an act of humility. We admit that we have received something that we did not earn. How often do you thank your employer for your paycheck? Probably not that often. That’s because you worked for it. You recognize that you deserve the money.

In thanksgiving to God, we humble ourselves, admitting that all we have—our life, our families, our jobs, our home, our food—come from Him. We confess that we are in fact dependent on God. Worry, however, springs from our desire to be independent of God, to act and think about ourselves and our environment in ways reserved for God alone.

So Paul tells the Philippians to be thankful because giving thanks gets to the heart of the problem—their struggle to trust God. They needed to remember that Someone else is in control.

When we give thanks, we remember how God has proved His faithfulness to us. We become aware of His involvement in our lives.

During a time of increased anxiety and worry, I began to train myself to be thankful. At this time, I didn’t feel much gratitude. In fact, I felt angry. I wondered why God didn’t do more in my life. But I decided to oblige Paul in an attempt to counteract my growing bitterness.

So I started keeping a thanksgiving journal. Each morning, with a cup of coffee in one hand and a pen in the other, I wrote a letter of thanks to God. Some days I simply said I was grateful to have shelter with running water and a warm place to sleep. Other mornings I gave thanks for family and friends. At other times, I thanked God for the sacrifice of Jesus.

As I continued I became aware of God’s activity in my life. My gratitude grew. I become more and more thankful. Still to this day when I wake in the morning, I don’t always have a long list, but I remember that I am dependent. I need God. I need Him to hear me, to listen, to respond. I cannot live on my own.

When we worry, much of it results form thinking we are the ones in control, that we must solve all our problems plus everyone’s we care about. But this isn’t the case. We must learn to rest in the arms of the One who said He will take care of us. Giving thanks to Him refocuses our thoughts—from ourselves to Him, the giver and sustainer of life. We, in exchange, experience peace. God’s peace. It is a peace that guards our hearts, our minds. And it results from a close, intimate relationship with our Maker.

Prayers of thanksgiving then remind us of the Provider’s faithful provision and lead us to His presence. There the flood waters of worry begin to recede as we agree with God about our powerlessness over our lives. As the murky waters depart, His peace, like a pure river flows down into our hearts, guarding us with tranquility.

Are You Listening?

Your teenage boys
They’re dippin’,
they’re trippin’
They’re slippin’ away from reality
Anything to quiet the voice of need

They’re stealin’,
they’re dealin’,
Concealin’ their shame.
Sweet skittles to silence the scream
Can you hear the voice of need?

Open your eyes
They’re flyin’ high,
While cryin’ out
They’re dyin’ inside
Don’t you see the tears of need?

They’re smokin’,
they’re tokin’,
They’ve broken down;
Empty bottles, they’re drowin’ out
The beckoning voice of need

They’re slammin’ doors shut
You’re slammin’ your heart shut
All alone to grow up
You just want them to shut up
I long to hear your voice of love

Love—
Words of edification
Gazes of affection,
Hugs of protection

Love—
A voice of wisdom
Eyes of compassion
Hands of instruction
Feet of direction
A heart of duration

Love—
Doesn’t give up, give in, give over
Doesn’t kick out, shut out, block out
Doesn’t turn away, walk away, stay away.

Love speaks to the need,
Provides for the need, cares for the need.
Love must first KNOW the need.
SEE the need, HEAR the need.

Are you listening?

Redeeming Road Trip

It’s no secret. I have a mild road rage. Following behind slow drivers in the fast lane drives me into a vocal frenzy. If only they could hear me. I try to help them through subtle hand gestures, those that suggest they move into the lane a few feet to the right. Most of them don’t appear to speak my sign language.

On a recent road trip from Atlanta to Charlotte, phlegmatic drivers occupied the fast and slow lanes on a two-lane highway. My voice grew hoarser and hoarser throughout the afternoon. During this time, I also prayed and sang worship songs. Much like James of the Bible writes about in his letter, with the same mouth I praised God and cursed those made in His image. In the same breath I sang words of praise and then condemned drivers who failed to keep the pace. I knew this shouldn’t be so.

In the midst of my tantrum, I paused, turning my attention to Jesus. I shared with Him my frustration that even on Interstate 85, I witnessed flawed humanity. Things don’t operate the way they should. In all realms of reality, even more meaningful than slow traffic. Innocence fades. Children disobey. Parents separate. Friends betray. Loved ones pass away. Everything is broken.

I thought about how Jesus lived on the earth; God among subjected creation and decay. More than any other human, He had a sense of depravity and broken glory. Yet He spoke with kindness. He touched with gentleness. He taught with love. If anyone should have condemned and yelled and demanded to have things function according to design, it was Jesus.

But then, isn’t that why He came? To restore the marred image, mend the broken hearts, free the prisoners?

I realized how un-Jesus like I am. He focused not on the brokenness but on redemption. He didn’t point out all the wrongs, but pointed to the truth. He didn’t tear people down, but he led them forward, God-ward. Hope flowed through His words. Anger seems to spew through mine.

For much of my adult life I have focused on the negative side of reality, the pain, the heartache, the darkness. I thought I had a good idea about life on earth. And in some ways I do. The problem is that in Christ, there is more—hope, joy, peace, light, life, love.

I know now that I have been worldly-minded. As Jesus’ follower, I must look for redemption, pursue restoration, offer liberation. It is not enough to speak of broken creation. Love that mends has come. As His hands and feet, I now live to share that heartbeat with all those I meet. Even the carefree divers on I-85.

So I’m beginning to train myself to “look for redemption in everyone,” as Karin Berquist would say. I’m moving from anger and fear to hope and courage.

Empowering Grace

In college, a friend sought my advice on how to respond to problems she had with her roommate. Her roommate continually made a mess of the bathroom they shared and rarely cleaned up. They agreed at the beginning of their lease that they would both share in the chores but now only one did the work. My friend felt annoyed, angry and torn. As a Christian, she felt called to love. Should she continue to clean up the bathroom as an act of service? Should she show her grace and bear the burden herself?

Recently that incident has come to mind because I found myself pondering the phrase “show her grace.” We Christians use that language regularly. We want to give grace, cover in grace, show grace to our friends, family, co-workers. But what exactly do we mean? Is it mere forgiveness, 70 times 7? Or is there another way to understand this divine call?

I’m learning that giving grace exceeds forgiving. With forgiveness we pardon a sin, a wrong done against us. We let the person go free, saying he/she no longer owes us what he/she took from us.
In the foremost act of, what I’ll call, forgiveness-grace, Jesus died and rose again on our behalf. In Christ, God reconciled us to Himself, forgiving our debt. The relationship we broke, He healed. In His work to mend humanity, He erased the debt of holiness we owed Him. At the cross, Jesus became our sin, while we became His righteousness. Humans restored to their Maker. Grace in forgiveness.

But the work of God goes beyond this pardoning. His works remains incomplete until human beings reflect the nature of God again. In the beginning, He gave us breath for the purpose of breathing it back to Him and the world we inhabit. We all bear God’s image, created to know and reflect His beauty, character, and love. But each of us is marred, a broken piece of humanity. None of us lives up to our full potential as a divine image bearer. Hence, the debt of righteousness we owed.

So God works to liberate us from that which hinders us from being fully alive, a transformative-grace. From the cross, the place of forgiveness-grace, God continues His gracious work until the eschaton, when we will partake of Christ’s glory. For now He renovates our hearts, the old to new, the shattered to wholeness, the dead to the living. He ever enlivens us, letting us know Him more deeply to reveal Him more fully.

His grace, as such, is not license to live as we would please. Rather, His grace empowers us to be human, to reveal Him. Much like the moon has no light of itself but reflects the sun’s essence, to be fully human is to reveal the light of the Greater Light.

So God works, restoring our marred image. God unleashes this creative, redeeming work through people, circumstances, His Word and Spirit. To give grace to another means, then, that not only do we forgive, but we interact in such a way as to help him/her back to glory.

A good question to ask ourselves, “Is my interaction helping restore this person to glory or am I enabling him/her to live in the marred state, in weakened humanity?” Was it enough for my friend to forgive her roommate’s failure to uphold her household duties? Or, was there a way she could have responded that pointed her back to glory?

Grace isn’t just accepting and forgiving people’s wrongs against us, but it involves responding in a way to lead others back to life, back to being human. As redeemed people in process, then, we can help each other. With humble hearts, we must learn to love each other in a way that creates a hunger for glory, for life.

Gracing each other involves accountability, not just overlooking wrongs in the name of forgiveness. We hold each other to a higher standard, exposing sinful motives and deeds of the heart for the purpose of freeing one another to live more fully. Like our Savior, we offer grace that empowers. Empowers to love, to live, to image. That is, to be fully human.

Trading Saviors

Breaking, the tears come falling down
I’m laid bare before you now
The worst of me exposed
The shame, too much to bear.

And I’m in need of a savior
Oh, I’m in need of a savior
Well, what do you say?

Hurt and hurting we sit
Our fallibility seeping through
Our laughter turned to silence
Our tender hearts, hardened stone.

And I’m in need of a savior
Oh, I’m in need of a savior
Well, what do you say?

Perspectives, sin, our wounds
Cracked idols, the image of God
Crumbling back to dust
Beneath salvation’s pressure

And you’re in need of a savior
Oh, you’re in need of a savior
Well, it seems you can’t save

How do we move forward
When the wrongs push us down?
How do we love
When trust’s been broken?
How to look to God’s redemption?

Oh, we’re in need of a Savior
Yes, we’re in need of a Savior
And there’s only one Savior
Oh, there’s only one Savior
Jesus, what do You say?

The Sure Thing

“Changes come. Turn my world around,” sings Karin Bergquist of the folk-alternative band Over The Rhine. I love this lyric, this song. Perhaps because the title captures my life experience: “Changes Come.”

Jobs switch. Friends move. Parents retire. Dreams fade. Minds change. This is a problem for someone like me who longs for stability, safety, certainty. But the older I get the more I experience instability, insecurity, uncertainty. Nothing stays the same. This constant motion stunts my continuous efforts to stop movement. Life itself seems against me.

I long for something sure, something that will remain. To my dismay, I fail to find this in a job, in a person, in an emotional state of mind.

Pondering this frustration on my drive home from work, I realized, though, that to be alive is to change. Amoebas, algae, trees, flowers, grass, ants, spiders, mosquitoes, dogs, cats. They all change, growth to decay, a state of constant flux.

And so it is with humans. We come forth in birth, mature, and wither away. Physical changes over which we have no control. Not to mention our emotional and spiritual development. For those of us in Christ, salvation involves transformation, changing from the old creature to the new.

So change isn’t necessarily bad. It’s good that weather patterns change to bring rain to land withered by drought. It’s good that babies learn to walk, adolescents become independent, adults grow in character. It’s good that believers learn to love like Christ.

But still change remains the constant. How then can I, and those like me, find peace in a world of perpetual motion?

The Bible writers knew about change. They knew the struggle to live in a world where nothing was sure. And they offered us hope, the only sure thing: Jesus Christ. In this world of shifting currents, I can find stability the arms of One.

When I feel rattled by change, I find solace in His presence. I remember His promises. He will never leave. He will never alter His opinion of me. He will never change His heart of love, compassion, mercy.

While I can celebrate the good changes and grieve the painful ones, I’m discovering the secret of being content in both. Jesus lives and yet does not change. He “is the same yesterday, today, and forever” (Heb 13:8). While my understanding and experience of Him may change, His character remains the same. His covenant of love is my constant.

And His promised return fuels my hope. Soon He will take us to a home where we will live forever, a permanent address. We will live with people who will never leave. We will feel unceasing joy, receive unending love, enjoy unchanging peace.

For those seeking such a world, let us turn to our Savior, who gave us Himself and the trustworthy promise of His return and a heavenly home of continual bliss.

So as Karin closes her song, I echo “Jesus come. Bring the whole thing down. Jesus come.”

The Personhood of God

How often do we think of God having fun? Or being detail-oriented? Or creative? Having likes and dislikes? Being a hard-worker? As I read the creation account I can't help but come in contact with the personhood of God (or perhaps I see more clearly the image I bear.). As I read Genesis 1-2, I relate more to God, gaining a better understanding of who He is. It seems He has emotional experiences much like you and I do.

What joy must have filled His heart as He created the stars, seas, mountains. What fun He must have had creating the land animals, sea animals and birds. What gentleness must have filled His hands as He formed Adam from the dust.

Such diversity and uniqueness exists in creation. Look around. A vast array of grass, flowers, trees exist. Not to mention insects, fish, birds, mammals, reptiles. And the billions of people alive today, each one unique. And He thought it all up. God engaged with His creation, enjoying the good work He performed. With great intention and attention He moved His hands, spoke words of life, breathed in, breathed out.

In the Genesis account, God comes down to earth; more, He brought forth the earth. He made all the beasts after their own kind, all the birds after their own kind, all the fish after their own kind. But we were special. He made us after Him. It seems God too longed to give birth to those after His own likeness.

What fond affection then He must have as He looks upon us. What love fills His heart to send Christ to save us, who though made in His likeness, have destroyed His image. What hope beats in His breast as He thinks of the completed restoration to come.

One day He again will look at His creation and call it good. With God, we wait for the day we will fully know Him, again image Him in glory, enjoy Him with sight, sound and touch. In the meantime we have His Spirit, community, and stories like the Creation account to begin our everlasting relationship with Him.

Cashmere of Compassion

“So, as those who have been chosen of God, holy and beloved, put on a heart of compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience; bearing with one another, and forgiving each other, whoever has a complaint against anyone; just as the Lord forgave you, so also should you. Beyond all these things put on love, which is the perfect bond of unity.” ~ Col 3:9-14

I love clothes. Especially new ones. I love the way they feel soft and fresh. I love the brightness of color, the unwrinkled fabric, the new look added to my familiar face.

What good news then to read that we Christians have received a new wardrobe, one designed especially for our hearts. These garments not only beautify, but they also transform.

Much of the Christian life involves using this new closet. We must take off our old clothes (sinful deeds) and put on the new ones (traits of Jesus). When Christ redeemed us from slavery to Sin and moved us to our home in Him, He filled our closets with the finest garments fit perfectly for our freed hearts. One such article of clothing is compassion.

Mother Theresa comes to mind. She spent her life loving the poor in Jesus’ name. With the courage of love she hugged on, prayed for, lived with those in physical, emotional and spiritual pain. Truly, she exemplified compassion.

But we don't have to spend our lives in another country to live compassionately. Webster’s defines compassion as "a sympathetic consciousness of others' distress together with a desire to alleviate it." How difficult, though, to move myself on behalf of others. I see a homeless person or a single parent struggling, and my heart moves on their behalf; not too often, however, do I respond to that sympathy. Compassion requires that I learn to act.

Our culture, unfortunately, idolizes the self. Seeking one's own gain and profit surpasses the value of caring for the needs of others. We have lost sight to much of the suffering in the world by following the American dream, pursuing wealth, pleasure, happiness.

How moved are we by the starving children in Africa? The gang-rapes in the ghetto across town? The family next-door who can’t pay their mortgage? Or, even the men and women who sit next to us in church struggling to make sense of this world?

There are plenty of people to whom we can show compassion. Finding people is not the problem; our hearts are the problem. Though a follower of Christ, I often still wear an old, torn-up shirt of selfishness, leaving a beautiful cashmere sweater of compassion hanging in the closet. In order to take it off the hanger, I need to see it modeled.

Christ calls us to wear compassion because He Himself is compassionate. He talked with the outcastes and lepers, healed the lame, fed the poor, gave sight to the blind, ate with sinners, hugged children. He felt sympathy for us, and He did something about it.

In the greatest act of compassion, He "alleviated" the "distress" of our sin as He crucified His Son on the cross. When He saw us dead in our transgressions, He responded according to His love and mercy by sending us His Son to rescue us.

As recipients of this love and witness to the perfect Model, so we should live. As we get dressed in the morning, let us remember to dress our hearts. This day, may we take compassion off the hanger and wear it as we respond to those in need.

What does it look like to don your new sweater? As you go through today, to whom can you show compassion?