The Enemy Of Death

Recently, I took my dog Annie to the vet for a dental cleaning. Prior to performing any dental work, the vet said she would call to let me know how Annie was doing under anesthesia and if she needed any teeth pulled. But when the doctor called me that morning, the news had little to do with her teeth. 

Instead, the vet said she had inspected Annie’s body and found that her spleen was enlarged to the size of a softball. She worried it might be cancerous, and if so, Annie would only have 6 months, maybe 12, to live. Due to the risk of the spleen bursting, her dental work no longer took precedence. She needed a splenectomy as soon as possible.

After we hung up from the phone call I immediately crumbled under the weight of the news. Annie is such a sweet dog and has been a comforting canine friend of the last several years as my mom has undergone chemotherapy treatment for cancer. I thought, now my dog too?

As I struggled with the news, I found myself hating death. For the last several years it has threatened to take my mom. It has already taken other loved ones. And now it threatened to take my dog, and I felt angry.

When the vet discovered Annie’s softball-sized spleen my anger towards death was a welcome change from my anger toward God. See, when my mom was first diagnosed with cancer, and as I battled my own health issues with migraines, I often wrestled with God. He all too often became the focus of my anger. Couldn’t He stop all this from happening? Why won’t He intervene? Why won’t He heal?

Maybe you can relate, feeling the loss of loved ones to death. Maybe you’re angry at a diagnosis you’ve just received. Or, maybe you know the pain and anger watching a loved one battle a terminal illness.

If you feel angry at God for the loss of loved ones or of your own health, He can handle your wrestling matches, just as He does mine. I think for many of us feeling anger towards God is part of the process of grief. Even biblical figures felt angry with God and told Him so (Job 31:35, Hab 1:2). At the same time, we can expend our energy fighting the One who can actually bring us great comfort (2 Cor 1:3-4), who is for us (Rom 8:31), and who has already defeated the real enemy who takes from us the ones we love (Rom 6:4-9; 1 Cor 15:20-26).

It has taken many months and many wrestling matches for me to begin surrendering to the reality of God’s goodness no matter my circumstance. Much of this is the result of accepting the truth that God is not my enemy. Death is. Through all the ups and downs, I’m learning His grace, comfort, and strength are ever enduring, day in and day out, good news or bad news, in life or in death. 

For even in death there is hope because of the risen Christ. On that old rugged cross, it seemed like death had won the war. But Jesus tricked our enemy, using death to actually bring life. Rising three days later, Jesus, our Savior, overpowered the grave.

So this Easter season be reminded that, in Jesus, death doesn’t have the final word. Resurrection is coming. Jesus will soon render the true enemy, death, forever powerless. Take hold of the hope then that the day is drawing close when God “will wipe away every tear from [our] eyes; and there will no long be any death” (Rev 21: 4a).

And sometimes, even this side of heaven, God gives us glimpses of His power over death and disease. I believe this is what happened with Annie. By His grace and compassion she came through surgery fine, and the tumor was benign. So I celebrate this good news, while letting it point me to the final and perfect resurrection to come. Soon all of us in Christ will say, “Death is swallowed up in victory. O death, where is your victory? O death where is you sting” (1 Cor 15:54b-55)? So as Resurrection Sunday approaches, join me, in fixing our gaze on the triumph of the empty tomb.

For Further Reflection

1. When have you felt angry with God over the loss of loved ones or your own health?
2. Do you feel like God is your enemy? In what way?
3. When you feel angry with God, do you tend to hide from Him, ignore Him, go to Him?
4. Read 1 Cor 15:51-57. What happens to death? What will happen to us? What will we say? Who brings about this victory?
5. How does knowing victory over death is assured for those of us in Christ bring you hope? 
6. Consider listening to one of the following songs, "Forever", “What A Beautiful Name”, or “Christ is Risen“.

The Silence of Saturday

In one evening everything changed. For three years the disciples had followed Jesus, leaving behind the life they had known, believing He was the Messiah, the One God had promised long ago. All was going well, until that Thursday night when Judas, one of their own, betrayed Him, leading to His death on a cross. The very next night Jesus’ body lay buried in a grave, along with all the disciples’ hopes and dreams. The One they had seen turn water to wine, walk on water, calm storms, heal the sick, feed 5,000, did nothing to save Himself.

Darkness surely fell heavy upon their spirits on that Sabbath after Christ’s death, weighed down with the horror of the cross, a sense of hopelessness, disappointment, confusion, and a broken heart. I wonder, though, how, in the stunned silence of that Saturday, it could have been different had the disciples believed, or understood, what Jesus meant when He said “The Son of Man is going to be delivered into the hands of men; and they will kill Him, and He will be raised on the third day” (Matt 17:22, 23). 

Had they known and trusted that Jesus would conquer the grave the next day, Saturday may have looked quite different for the followers of Jesus. While they may have still shed tears and fretted over the Jews, the dominant mood would have been one of expectation and hope. They would have encouraged each other to keep watch as they eagerly waited for the next day, when Jesus would fill the disciples with joy and stun His enemies in victory over death. 

Similarly we too live in a day of waiting, a time between Jesus’ promise to return and His fulfillment of it. As Paul writes, “For we know that the whole creation groans and suffers the pains of childbirth together until now. And not only this, but also we ourselves,…groan within ourselves, waiting eagerly for our adoptions as sons, the redemption of our body” (Rom 8:22, 23). In the midst of this waiting Jesus exhorts us, “Do not let your heart be troubled; believe in God, believe also in Me…for I go to prepare a place for you. If I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and receive you to Myself, that where I am, there you may be also” (John 14:2, 3).

Like the disciples on the second day of Jesus’ death, however, I struggle to comprehend this promise of a future paradise. I cannot fathom the idea of heaven, where I will talk with Jesus face to face, be fully restored to His image with no trace of sin, frolicking on an earth free from decay. So I get caught up in daily life. I often live like this world is my only, and ultimate, home, not quite grasping how God’s plan of salvation can impact my everyday.

But though the disciples struggled to understand the resurrection before witnessing it, once they see the risen Christ and are filled with His Spirit, they change. Hope and joy replace grief and fear. A confidence in God’s promises saturates the letters they write to the churches and the sermons they preach to the masses. No longer seeking after the goods of this present world, their greatest desire is to be united again with Jesus and for others to know Him and His salvation, and as a result, partake of the future resurrection.

Because of their witness (and more so, the trustworthiness of Jesus), we too can live in such a way that hope, joy and an eager expectation dominate our days. God didn’t share with us His future plans merely to give us something to think about as we near death. Rather, this hope is meant to be the driving force of our lives, filling our hearts each day with yearning, granting us strength to persevere with love and joy, and fueling our purpose to live for what will last forever. Peter writes that the source of our inexpressible joy is our assured salvation by which God “has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to obtain an inheritance which is imperishable and undefiled and will not fade away, reserved in heaven for you, who are protected by the power of God through faith for a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time” (1 Pet 1:3-9).

Jesus will come back for us, resurrecting us to new bodies free from sin and fit to live upon a renewed earth liberated from the weight of the fall. As we might discuss a future trip to Hawaii with friends and family then let’s ruminate over the bliss we will have in heaven. It is by thinking about this happiness to come that we will find strength to persevere through tough times, joy that both baffles and witnesses to the world around us, hope that keeps seeking transformation to Christ’s likeness in both ourselves and others. 

So this Saturday as we wait to celebrate Christ’s resurrection on Easter Sunday, let’s consider how it would have been different for the disciples had they understood they would see Jesus alive again the next day. As we do, let this also lead us to consider how our own trust in His future, and imminent, return might impact and change our lives, in the routine, in the sorrows, and in the joys. If we truly believe, by God's grace, in this future resurrection and glorification, our emotions, actions and desires will assuredly fill with God’s hope, joy and purpose.

A Well for the Weary

David and his men had traveled for days. Worn and wearied from the trip, I imagine they looked forward to getting home, unloading their bags and having a fresh-cooked meal. But rather than experience a warm welcome, they found the whole city burned to ashes. Everything gone. Even their wives and children, kidnapped. Overcome with grief they “lifted their voices and wept until there was no strength in them to weep” (1 Sam 30:4).

Perhaps, like me, you know what that feels like. I think of break-ups and the resulting loss of a relationship in which my broken heart bled tear after tear. Or when in college, I grieved the loss of my grandfather and tears flowed until I thought I had none left. Or when my mom was diagnosed with cancer, and I cried many nights, stricken with fear and sorrow. Maybe you presently feel spent from weeping over a break in relationship, a shattered dream, a crippling diagnosis, an addiction you long to be free from, the death of a loved one.

Both the people and David felt exhausted and needed encouragement. But after they wept together, “David was greatly distressed because the people spoke of stoning him, for all the people were embittered, each one because of his sons and his daughters, but David strengthened himself in the LORD his God” (1 Sam 30:6). 

While both the men and David felt heartbroken, they responded to their pain very differently. Whereas the men let their pain overtake them, David took his pain to God. Though the men grew bitter, David grew closer to God. And when the people drew strength from their anger, David “drew strength from the LORD his God” (1 Sam 30:6b NET). 

I’m curious what it looked like for David to draw strength from God. I wonder if he played a hymn on his harp. Or, if he wrote down his fears coupled with his confidence in God’s help, penning words like, “The LORD is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in Him, and I am helped; therefore my heart exults, and with my song I shall thank Him” (Ps 28:7). Or, if he sought solitude, sitting still before the Lord. However he strengthened himself, I envision God as a never-ending well of strength into which David dropped his broken, exhausted heart, and filled it with God’s love, peace and strength.

When we feel worn from the hardships of this world we too have a choice how we will respond and where we will find strength to carry on. We can choose to try to control the people and events around us, like David’s men did, or we can follow in David’s footsteps to the well of God’s strength. At His well we can fill our hearts with the promises, person, and presence of God. Here we can hear Him say, “Do not anxiously look about you, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, surely I will help you, surely I will uphold you with My righteous right hand” (Is 41:10).

So whether worn from work, challenging people, unbreakable habits, troubling circumstances, or tragedy, God is our source of strength. He doesn’t demand that we muster up the strength on our own, but rather beckons us to “be strong in the LORD and in the strength of His might” (Eph 6:10). So when you feel like you have nothing left to give, don’t give up. You have a God who delights to use His strength for, give His strength to, and be the strength of those who look to Him for help.

Lifting Our Gaze This Week: Ideas for Application

1. What area(s) of your life do you feel spent and in need of strength? In what ways, if any, are you attempting to control the people or circumstances in your life?
2. Consider the following promises of God: Luke 12:24-31, Rom 8:28, Rom 12:19, Phil 1:6, Heb 13:5. By choosing to count on these promises, how might it affect how you deal with your present difficulties?
3. In what ways has God previously strengthened or helped you through past times of weariness? 
4. Describe a time, if any, you experienced the presence of God and afterward felt revived and able to persevere with hope.
5. Look up the following verses: 2 Chron 16:9, Neh 8:10, Ps 23,  Ps 29:11, Ps 119:25, 28, Is 40:31, Hab 3:19, 2 Cor 12:9, 10, 1 Pet 4:11. Consider memorizing or writing one of them on an index card to remind you throughout the day that God is your strength.
6. Listen to, meditate on, and sing out in trust the lyrics to “This We Know”.
7. Spend time outside in creation this week. A great way to calm our hearts and gain strength is by beholding God’s power through the world He has made (Job 38-39, Ps 19:1:1, Rom 1:20).

Guarded Hearts

With Valentine’s Day just a few days away, the heart is on display. Walk into your local Target, Walmart, or grocery store and you will see all the hearts your heart can handle. Heart-shaped candy boxes, candies, and candles, hearts on blankets, coffee mugs and Kleenex, hearts in cereals, flowers and pop-up cards. 

So wth all these Valentine displays, I have the heart on my mind. Recently so did my women’s Bible study group. Going though the book of Proverbs, we focused the night’s discussion on Solomon’s words, “Watch over your heart with all diligence for from it flows the springs of life” (Prov 4:23). If you grew up in the church like I did, you likely heard this text in reference to dating relationships. Youth pastors warned that failure to protect our heart would result in bad relationships, heartache and sexual sin. Even just the other day a date and I were talking about how he was taught to guard a girl’s heart in his dating relationships. While this certainly is wise application, we miss much if limit this verse to dating. 

In the Bible, the heart represents the center of our being, our will, desires, and emotions. Solomon knew then that whatever influences and fills our hearts determines the course of our lives. If we allow the things of the world, our flesh, or lies into our hearts, this then will take us down paths of failure, confusion, sin, separation, and death. In contrast, if we ensure our hearts are filled with wisdom (Prov 2:2; 4:4, 5), truth (3:3), kindness (3:3), justice (8:20), and whole-hearted trust in the LORD (3:5, 6), we will walk down the path of life, finding joy, meaning, and the pleasure of God. 

So how can we practically protect our hearts from our flesh, the world, and the father of lies? While there are certainly a variety of ways to keep guard, paying attention to our words, both the ones we speak and the ones we think, proves paramount. Jesus says, “the mouth speaks out of that which fills the heart“ (Matt 12:34). He says to us, if you want an idea of what’s streaming into your heart, listen to your speech. Have your words been filled with kindness or sarcasm? Encouragement or criticism? Hostility or invitation? Joy or complaining? Hope or defeat? What we hear reveals either the treasure or trash in our hearts (Matt 12:35).

If the words we speak seem out of sync with the gospel and character of Jesus, there’s a good chance we need to examine the words we think. Our thoughts either pollute or purify the waters of our heart, flowing into everything from our attitudes to our beliefs to our decisions. No wonder the New Testament author, Paul, places so much emphasis on our thoughts. For instance, to the church at Corinth he writes, “We are destroying speculations and every lofty thing raised up against the knowledge of God, and we are taking every thought captive to the obedience of Christ” (2 Cor 10:5). Like a watchman he stands guard ready to capture anything and everything contrary to the gospel and the hope we have in Christ. 

We must then get in the habit of stopping the flow of negative, deceptive and tainted thoughts by changing course. As Paul further writes, we should direct our thoughts instead to “whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is of good repute, if there is any excellence and if anything worthy of praise” (Phil 4:8). That is, we need to focus our thinking on all that God is for us and has given us in Jesus. Are your thoughts flowing with self condemnation? Switch streams and ruminate on God's grace. Are they despairing? Think on God’s promises and your future inheritance in Christ. Is your mind flooded with worry? Meditate on the truth of Matt 6:25-34.

So this Valentine’s let’s put our own hearts on display. As Solomon encourages us, let’s take his words to heart (Prov 3:1) and practice guarding them. Like a conscientious watchman, examine closely what you’re letting in your heart and what’s flowing out. Take captive those thoughts contrary to the gospel and character of God and pour in the truth of His Word. As we let the person of Christ—His words, HIs grace, HIs promises, HIs love, His life—flood our minds, our hearts will overflow into springs of freedom, healing, and transformation.

Lifting Our Gaze This Week: Ideas for Application

💘Ask the Spirit to remind you of the truth that our mouth speaks from that which fills our heart and that our thoughts influence the direction of our hearts. Pray for understanding and the power to live according to the new heart you've been given in Christ (Col 1:29, 2 Cor 5:17).

💘Listen to your speech. If you need help remembering to do this, write Matt 12:34 on the bathroom mirror or on an index card and put you in car. Hear the tone, content and feelings of your words. Consider asking family members, close friends, or your small group to share what they most hear coming from your lips. Don't fall into condemnation (Rom 8:1), but ponder the grace of God when your speech wanders from the gospel and person of Jesus. Celebrate His work in your heart when you hear words that reflect Him. 

💘Take captive wayward thoughts. We don't capture thoughts by focusing on them, but by replacing them with truth. Jot down the thoughts or themes of your thoughts you want to change. Think of how Jesus lived out what you want to change. For example, if you have judgmental thoughts toward the poor, think of how Jesus praised the woman who gave a penny (Luke 21:1-4) or the parable of Lazarus and the rich man (Luke 16:19-25). Also use your knowledge of Scripture, the concordance in the back of your Bible or www.blueletterbible.org to help you find verses to replace lies with truth relevant to your specific thoughts.

💘Listen to David Crowder's, "Here's My Heart." Prayerfully, reflectively ponder the lyrics. What resonates with you? What quiets you? What truths refocus you?

💘Look up and meditate on the following verses regarding the heart: Deut 6:5, Psalm 19:14, Psalm 51:10, Luke 6:45, Eph 1:18, 19a

A Strong Tower

Imagine you find yourself outside in the woods during a thunderstorm. Lightning strikes the sky, thunder echoes around, rain pounds the ground you step on. You desperately want shelter, a safe place to protect you from the tempestuous elements.

Like getting caught outside in a thunderstorm, life circumstances can sometimes leave us feeling afraid, anxious, alone. I feel this way as I help my mom during her chemotherapy treatment. As I write this she has not had a good week. Many days she has barely made it out of bed and to the couch. She fights to get food in as she wrestles with waves of nausea and dizziness. As I assist her I feel helpless. I cannot do what I most want which is to heal her and make this cancerous storm go away. I feel unsure about what the future holds. Is there something more I can do to help? Will this chemo work? Can she handle another round? 

All of this has left me feeling spent. Perhaps you too feel worn, worried or wearied by life events. Maybe like me you have a loved one fighting an illness such as cancer. Or maybe your marriage is breaking, or your child is struggling and you're unsure how to help, or you suffer from chronic pain and yearn for relief. Whatever present storms of life we may be enduring, there is a place we can take refuge.

Perfectly timed by God, this week I came across these words of Solomon, “The name of the LORD is a strong tower; the righteous runs into it and is safe” (Prov 18:10). That is, they draw strength and comfort from the person of God, from His personal, intimate, loyal love. Often when I’m worn out from life events I long to have strong arms to collapse into, for someone to embrace me with safety, protection and a place I can rest. This is the idea of running into the strong tower that is God.

Perhaps, like me, though you wonder what it looks like to seek shelter in the unseen God. The psalmist David gives us insight when he writes, “Trust in Him at all times, O people; pour out your heart before Him; God is a refuge for us” (Ps 62:8). We make God our hiding place when we, in great trust, cry out to Him, emptying our burdens in prayer.

I think of Hannah who so poured out her heart to God that Eli, the priest, thought she was drunk (1 Sam 1:9-15). Hannah longed to have a child, but was barren. Though she had a wonderful husband, her greatest desire went unfulfilled, while her rival, her husband’s other wife, bore child after child. So she went to God in prayer and let herself fall apart in His presence. With her whole being she pleaded with God, desperate, weeping before Him.

In Hannah’s storm of childlessness, God was her strong tower. He can be ours too. Whether your storm is also an unfulfilled longing, or financial uncertainty, an illness, a tough job situation, a prodigal child, or a broken marriage, pour out your heart to Him. Tell Him all, the fear, the worry, the confusion, the disappointment, the frustration. Finding refuge in God doesn’t necessarily mean the turbulent conditions will stop. But it does mean we have a safe place to hide throughout the storm.

Lifting Our Gaze This Week: Ideas For Application

• Get time alone with God and let Him know all that is on your heart. Don’t hold back. Share what worries you, scares you, angers you, burdens you, consumes you. If you’re unsure of all that is in on your heart, try journaling first, writing down all the emotions you feel or issues you're facing. Choose one you want to start with and go from there.
• Pick a song that really draws you to the presence of God. Reflectively listen to it, allowing the words to reach down to your heart, lifting your eyes upward to Jesus. Here are a few that move me to rest and worship:  
• This We Know
• Sinking Deep
• Until These Tears Are Gone
• You Hold It All Together
• Path of Sorrow
• Look up and meditate on the following texts that discuss God as our strong tower and refuge.
• Psalm 18
• Psalm 42
• Psalm 46
• Matthew 11:28-30
• John 16:33
• 2 Corinthians 1:3-11
• 1 Peter 5:7

The Heart of Forgiveness: Forgiving With Joy

When someone wrongs me, whether it’s something slight like a driver cutting me off in traffic or something severe like a break in relationship, I want back what was taken. I don’t naturally enjoy forgiving people. I often would rather not show mercy at all. I want back my pride, the ease of friendship, a good reputation, the opportunity to succeed, the promise of love. And often I would like a little interest too, like a dinner, flowers, a kind note of apology.

When I pause and read what I’ve just written, I don’t like it. I wish I had written, “I love to forgive! Cut me off in traffic, and I will bless you! I overflow with grace!” Instead I struggle to set people free who owe me, especially if the debt is deep. I feel the pull between the old me who demands retribution and the new me who longs to love like God.

And I don’t think I’m alone. I think all of us, as broken humanity, struggle to have a heart that actually delights to forgive. Who wants to joyfully grant grace to the parent who was never there? Or the co-worker who betrayed you? The husband who left? The friend who turned on you? The prodigal child who ran away? While we may know we ought to forgive, our hearts seem to resist doing so.

Even Peter, a disciple of Jesus, felt something similar. Having heard Jesus previously teach that he should forgive he presses Him asking, “Lord, how often shall my brother sin against me and I forgive him? Up to seven times” (Matt 18:21)? Surely there is a limit, and Peter wants to know exactly how many times he has to forgive. 

While Peter probably assumed the number seven was gracious, Jesus responds, “I do not say to you, up to seven times, but up to seventy times seven” (Matt 18:22). In answering this way, Jesus unveils Peter’s heart. He reveals that Peter’s motive to forgive is not love but duty. 

With His response Jesus contrasts Peter’s stingy heart with God’s gracious heart. Unlike us, God does delight to forgive. Paul writes “For it was the Father’s good pleasure for all the fullness to dwell in Him, and through Him to reconcile all things to Himself, having made peace through the blood of His cross” (Col 1:19, 20b). Pardoning those who wronged Him brings God joy. And, as His children, He desires that we have hearts like His that don’t find forgiveness a burdensome task but a joyful opportunity (Eph 4:32). 

But this does not make forgiveness easy or painless. Though God delighted to forgive us, the rebel race of image bearers, doing so cost Him. He would never experience Adam and Eve choosing Him instead of the fruit. He would never get back all the times you and I could have reflected His glory but chose our own instead. In deciding to forgive us, God bore the loss and paid the payment for our sins through the death of His Son (Col 2:13, 14). This is a cost greater than we will ever know.

And it is because Jesus has borne the sin of the world, paying off not only our debt but the debt of those who wronged us, we can move toward others with mercy. But we know our hearts. We know the pain of being overlooked, left out, ignored, betrayed, abandoned. And it just doesn’t feel right to grant mercy when we have hurt like that. Something, perhaps, we should do, but definitely not what we want to do. So how can we develop a heart that, like our gracious God, wants to forgive those who have wronged us? 

While there are certainly other practices we can and should employ, I believe we ought to begin with prayer. Think of someone who has wronged you in some way, whether a neighbor, friend, colleague, boss, family member, and practice praying the following: 

• Pray for a heart that delights in forgiving (Ezek 36:26). It is our hearts that desperately need changing, for it is from our hearts our motives and actions flow.
• Pray for the person who wronged you, hurt you, stole from you (Matt 5:44). Don’t just pray for revenge, but try interceding for them as you would a friend. 
• Pray and meditate on the great mercy God had on you. Ponder the depth of your sin and the extent to which God has shown you grace. For those who are forgiven much love much (Lk 7:47).

Think now of how our families would be impacted if we happily gave grace for the joy of restored relationship. Or how our work places might be impacted if we willingly let go of grudges. Or how marriages might strengthen with such security in mercy. Imagine what kind of light Christians could shine if we become people who delight to forgive.

Switching Hopes

If you want to read a book of the Bible that promises health and wealth and everything else, don’t read 1 Peter. It wouldn’t surprise me if prosperity gospel preachers have torn this book from their Bibles. See, Peter writes to struggling and stressed believers to encourage them, but he does so in a way we might not think.

First, let me ask you something. When you encounter unpleasant circumstances in your life, what sort of encouragement or advice do you receive? To pray more? Read Scripture? Get busy doing other things? In my dark times, I’ve been comforted through all these. And they are right and good ways to offer support. The Bible tells us we ought to seek God’s help, to trust His promises, and busy ourselves with kingdom work.

But as I read Peter’s first letter to these suffering Christians, “distressed by various trials” (1:6), I find a different sort of encouragement. Like we experience, these hardships may have included sickness, broken relationships, financial insecurity, unfulfilled longings, persecution, family discord, natural disasters. So does Peter admonish them to start praying that God will deliver them and bring a blessing instead? Does he quote Jeremiah 29:11 and tell them God has something better just around the corner? Not exactly. Instead he focuses his readers on something else altogether.

Throughout his letter, Peter urges believers to change hopes. That is, he wants them to cease focusing on their circumstances on earth, merely longing for better things here. He exhorts them, saying, “fix your hope completely on the grace to be brought to you at the revelation of Jesus Christ” (1:13). No longer zooming in on the temporary distressing events, they should direct their gaze toward the eternal inheritance to come, that “which is imperishable and undefiled and will not fade away, reserved in heaven for you” (1:4).

It is possible then to experience lasting joy throughout singleness, sickness, divorce, chronic pain, joblessness. But we must shift focus, from the momentary to the lasting, from the broken to the renewed, from the present grief to the future glory. And as we do, this switching of hopes will not only provide strength to endure, but will continually fill us with great joy, strengthen and refine our faith, and enable us to love more deeply.

So in the midst of hardship keep praying, hold fast to God’s Word, and do good deeds, all the while letting your heart hope in your future inheritance. Let your thoughts run wild wondering what heaven will look like, what you will feel in the physical presence of Jesus, and to know you will never again experience any form of stress or sin or sorrow. For we most assuredly will one day see our Savior face to face (Rev 21:3, 22:4) and dwell in a land where “there will no longer be any death; there will no longer be any mourning, or crying or pain” (Rev 21:4).

Lifting Our Gaze This Week: Ideas for Application

• Read Randy Alcorn’s book Heaven in which he examines what the Bible has to say about the topic and dreams about what it might look like. Or consider picking up his devotional, 50 Days of Heaven: Reflections That Bring Eternity To Light.
• Look up and meditate on the following Bible verses discussing our inheritance: Isaiah 60:18-22, Ezekiel 36:33-36, John 14:1-3, 1 Corinthians 15:35-58, 2 Corinthians 4:16-5:8, Revelation 21-22.
• Journal about what you think heaven will be like. Talk with God about what you’re looking forward to, unsure of, curious about. Jot down what you’re most excited about doing, seeing, experiencing. 

Unless I Had Believed

"I would have despaired unless I had believed that I would see the goodness of the LORD in the land of the living."

 ~Psalm 27:13 

Life is hard. Cars break down. Tornadoes rip through towns. Friends let us down. Children rebel. Marriages fall apart. Singleness lingers. Dreams shatter.

Sometimes life overwhelms us so much that we feel on the verge of despair. Getting out of bed in the morning proves challenging. We find it pointless. We know nothing will have changed. We convince ourselves we know what to expect: disappointment and more disappointment. We know things will fail to go the way we want. Instead, we will face challenges, stress, and pain.

So why listen to the alarm clock? Getting out of bed is a sign of hope, a sign that perhaps today will be different, and we know it won’t be. We echo Solomon’s assessment that there is nothing new under the sun and all is meaningless (Eccl 2:11, 12).

We are not alone in our struggle. In Psalm 27, David expresses that given his circumstances he too could have easily fallen into despair. And who could blame him? Evil men sought to devour his soul (v.2), a war waged against him (v.3), and his family had abandoned him (v.10). So why didn’t he give in to despondency? How did he find the strength to persevere?

David recognized he had two options: trust in God or fall into despair. There was no in between. When we stop believing that God will show up in our lives, hopelessness is sure to follow.

So David set his heart to believe that he would again see God’s goodness. In other psalms we catch a glimpse of how and why David chooses to believe: his memories and God’s unchanging character. For instance, during a time in the wilderness David writes, “When I remember You on my bed, I meditate on You in the night watches, for You have been my help, and in the shadow of Your wings I sing for joy” (Ps 63:6, 7, emphasis added). Times of depression then involve not merely a struggle to hope, but a battle to remember.

David is not the only biblical character to recollect on God’s past faithfulness. Throughout Scripture, God’s people constantly remind each other of who God is. Why? Because God never changes. If He delivered in the past then they could count on Him to deliver again. For example, Jeremiah in the midst of grieving the destruction of Jerusalem comforts himself by remembering who God is, that His mercies are indeed new every morning (Lam 3).

God does not, will not and cannot change. If He was Savior yesterday, He is Savior today. If He was mighty in the wilderness, He is mighty in the office place. If He was provider in the desert, He is provider in the loneliness. If He was healer in Bethsaida, He is healer in Atlanta. If He was restorer then, He is restorer now.

So if we find ourselves cynical, bitter, or depressed chances are we need reminding of who God is. Let’s study the stories of old, given for our encouragement (Rom 15:4). Invite friends to share about God’s provision in their lives. Reflect on God’s previous works in your own life. Let’s replay God’s love and faithfulness in action.

Finally, speak to your own soul. Exhort it to hope in God, just like the psalmist said, “Why are you in despair, O my soul? And why have you become disturbed within me? Hope in God, for I shall again praise Him for the help of His presence” (Ps 42:5).

With David, let’s rest our future, our every day, our every morning, on God’s proven, unchanging character. For as we do we can roll out of bed with confident expectation, knowing that perhaps today is the day we "will see the goodness of the LORD in the land of the living."

Lessons Learned From A Waterslide

It’s summertime and that means it’s time for water-parks. So recently I ventured with my niece, nephew, and sister-in-law to White Water.

Our afternoon of family fun moved along with lots of laughing, splashing, and playing in the sun. That is, until I found myself waiting in a line in which the rides to my left and right looked like pipelines surrounded by heavy concrete. While this type of a waterslide was a favorite as a child, I no longer felt drawn to sliding down a tube in utter darkness. To this recovering control-freak, no thank you.

My sister-in-law seemed to notice at the same time. Would this ride be alright for me she wondered. What could I do? The line crowded in behind me closing off any escape. Plus, I wanted my niece and nephew to know that I am in fact a very cool aunt. So while inside a slow panic started erupting, I responded, “Yeah, sure. Besides it looks like only a small part of the ride is enclosed fully.” And then I started praying.

After my anxiety had ample time to swell in line, we finally reached the top. Armed with a double-tube, my excited nephew claimed me for his partner and we begin “boarding” our tube. The ride felt fun the first few seconds. Then the tunnel appeared.

Before I knew it darkness encompassed me. My heart rate quickened. Panic coursed throughout my body. My breathing all but stopped. How long will this uncertainty last? I felt us moving but had no idea where. Would there be a big drop? Would we curve? Would we be in here forever?

Finally light appeared and my whole body relaxed. Just as I felt pleased that I braved my fears, my niece ran up to me and shouted, “That was awesome! Let’s do it again, and this time I get to ride with you!” People really will do anything for the kids they love because I braved the darkness once again. And the second time wasn’t nearly as bad.

Later as I described my experience to a friend, a light dawned in my heart. I realized how this ride exemplified my walk with God in the midst of my present circumstances.

I don’t know the future. I can’t see the next steps. A current pulls me along that I’m unable to maneuver. I have no control. I feel stressed, worried, anxious. I struggle to trust in God’s provision as Jesus promised (Matt 6:25–34).

Yet I hear God whisper, “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they will not overflow you” (Is 43:2). He promises to walk with us through, and not necessarily deliver us from, the raging rivers. His presence then is our hope.

Instead of seeking deliverance from darkness, God invites me to lean into the arms of comfort already present. Think of movie scenes in which people suddenly find themselves in an unlit, creepy house at midnight. They usually step toward, and even grab the arm, of the person with them. Dark places, as such, seem to lend themselves to drawing us closer to those around us.

Perhaps you too find yourself in similar times. You need answers but only have questions. You seek direction but get more turned-around. You look for relief but only feel more grief. You long for love but feel lonely. You crave strength but can barely stand.

In the shadowy moments, God offers Himself. Besides that’s what life is, knowing Jesus and His Father (John 17:3). That’s why the disciples constantly experienced joy in the midst of trials, heartache, persecution. They focused on drawing close to Christ. When He’s our passion, the twists and turns of life offer a new joy.

So in our confusion, pain, doubt we can move toward the Person present with us. To the One of whom David writes, “Even the darkness is not dark to You, and the night is as bright as the day. Darkness and light are alike to You” (Ps 139:12).

Who is Louie, Matt or Francis?

I love Passion City Church. I have followed Louie Giglio for years and when he started a church in Atlanta, I knew that would be my home church. The music is incredible. The speaking passionate and empowering. The worshippers engaged and sold out for Jesus.

So too I am a huge fan of Matt Chandler. Not only am I drawn to his teaching style, the depth of wisdom and the grace of Christ revealed, but I’m inspired by how he responded to his cancer diagnosis. Though I have never met him, I am often reminded of his humble, God-fearing, God-honoring response. It helps me battle my own bouts of bitterness.

And I was first introduced to Francis Chan when a friend sent me a book of his. After reading it, I heard his preaching for the first time, and I was immediately drawn in. His passion, his humor, his vulnerability all drew me, along with many others, to listen and eagerly seek out more of his talks.

Tim Keller is another well-known pastor and author who strengthens my faith. I am drawn to his gospel-centered approach to, not only his teaching, but all of life. The gospel changes everything; Keller helps me understand how.

And how can I forget Beth Moore? I’ve completed almost all of her Bible studies and read many of her books. I love her speaking style, her devotion to Christ, her down-to-earth way of teaching.

So it’s not uncommon for you to hear me throw these names, along with others, around. I often suggest listening to a Matt or Louie sermon. I recommend Beth’s Bible studies. I encourage New Yorkers to attend Keller’s church. I boast how a Francis Chan talk has started to change my life.

But the other day I began to wonder if I, along with others, have begun to cross a line in our praise for these men and women of God. At times our conversations even seem to turn into a type of competition for who is a better teacher, speaker, author, or overall communicator. It's as if we pit our super-hero (of the faith) against our friend's super-hero and see who is stronger. Thinking of this, I was reminded of Paul’s words to the church at Corinth, “For when one says, ‘I am of Paul,’ and another, ‘I am of Apollos,’ are you not mere men? What then is Apollos? And what is Paul? Servants through whom you believed, even as the Lord gave opportunity to each one” (I Cor 3:4, 5).

The reason I am drawn to Louie, Matt, and Beth ultimately has nothing to do with them. Don’t get me wrong. I think they are talented, gifted, graced individuals. But they are not the end. Jesus is. Jesus saves. Jesus heals. Jesus restores. His Spirit empowers. His Spirit transforms. His Spirit moves in our hearts. So it’s not Francis Chan’s talk that is changing my life; it’s the Spirit of Christ in me who is.

While I know we would not intentionally put these men and women in the place of God, if we aren’t on guard as we sing their praises, I wonder if our hearts could elevate them to idol status. I wonder if it could be possible to adore the servant instead of the Savior.

So as we rejoice in their gifts and gladly receive what the Spirit has given them for the building up of the Church, may we ever be mindful that it is not the one who plants nor the one who waters who is anything but God who moves in grace (I Cor 3:7). As Paul summarizes, “So then let no on boast in men. For all things belong to you, whether Paul or Apollos or Cephas or the world or life or death or things present or things to come; all things belong to you, and you belong to Christ; and Christ belongs to God” (I Cor 3:21-23).

Watching and Waiting

“In the morning, O Lord, You will hear my voice; in the morning I will order my prayer to You and eagerly watch” (Ps 5:3).

Most of us pray. Perhaps not as often as we would like or as eloquently as we would like. But still we pray. We petition God. We ask Him to move. We ask Him to intervene. We long for Him to act on our behalf. So we pray for anything from wisdom in relationships to obtaining a job to healing from cancer. We may pray in the morning, we may pray in the evening, in our bed or in our car, sitting down or on our knees. Whenever, however, we send forth our voice into the heavenly realm.

And many of us leave it at that. We say our prayers and then go on with our day or go to sleep. We tend to think of prayer as only the voicing of our requests. But in Psalm 5 David includes another part in his petitioning— watching.

He says his morning prayers, and then throughout the rest of the day David looks for God’s response. More than mere lip-service, as if he half-heartedly believes something will result from his prayer, he comes to God because he believes God will help. He is fully convinced God cares about his situation and more so, that God will do something about it. In an act of faith, he watches, eagerly anticipating His response.

Sometimes I wrestle with watching. There are circumstances in my life in which I plead with God for His active involvement. Most days He seems silent. I see no movement. I receive no response. There are moments (that sometimes turn into days) in which I struggle to believe He will come to my aid.

But the words and actions of David keep me lifting my eyes upward. God may not always give us what we want or respond the way we want. For many reasons, perhaps unknown to us, God may not answer our request as we desire. But sometimes He will. However He moves we can rest in the truth that He is always with us and in every situation, painful or joyful, working for our good and His glory (Rom 8:28). At minimum then we can watch how he labors for these in the midst of our longings.

So what about you? When you pray, do you think He hears you? Are you convinced He cares? Do you think He is able to and will work in the situation?

David concludes his prayer, "For it is You who blesses the righteous man, O LORD, You surround him with favor as with a shield" (v.12). Let his words of faith encourage us to keep watch, believing and hoping in God’s loyal love. And may the Spirit grant us discernment to note the gentle, sometimes subtle, hand of God weaving through the moments of our day.

When Grief Changes God

“Then I said, “It is my grief, that the right hand of the Most High has changed.’” ~ Ps 77:10

Pain often has a way of skewing how we see God. Like storm clouds hide the warm rays of the sun, suffering can overshadow God’s compassion, mercy, love. Some moments it seems to whisper, “God isn’t good.” At other times, it screams, “God has left you.”

Perhaps you have felt, or are feeling, something similar. Sorrow so great that nothing seems to bring relief. God feels thousands of miles away. Perhaps it’s a break up, a job loss, a car crash. Maybe a loved one died, or it’s an addiction you can’t shake, or loneliness that causes your heart to ache. Whatever the cause of pain, it feels impossible to find comfort. You look to God and find nothing. Friends’ words offer no lasting hope. It appears God has fled the scene.

This is exactly what Asaph, author of Psalm 77, experienced. While we don’t know the specifics of his circumstance, it was powerful enough to rock his world. He could find no escape from his sorrow. He laments, “my soul refused to be comforted” (77:2). He wondered if God had stopped loving him. Had God abandoned His people? Had He spent all His grace? Would God no longer forgive, restore, rebuild? Had His anger sapped all His compassion?

But in the midst of the darkness of questioning God’s character, a light began to shine. Asaph awakened to the reality that God does not change (77:10; cf., James 1:17). Rather, it was his despair that had altered his perspective of God.

With this new understanding Asaph consoles his soul, “I will meditate on all Your work and muse on Your deeds” (77:12). He decides to shift his focus from his sorrow to God’s past dealings with him and the nation of Israel. He hoped in the unchanging nature of God. If He showed love in the past, He will show it in the future. If He delivered before, He will deliver again. If He gave good gifts in the past, He will give good gifts once again.

When the storms of life crash on us, we can cling to God’s works in the past. We must refuse to focus on our circumstances. People, places, and times may change, but God’s goodness remains the same. Tears may fall but God still loves. Hearts may break but God still mends. Panic may overwhelm but God still calms storms. Sinners transgress but God still transforms hearts of stone. A terminal diagnosis may come but God still raises the dead.

So when tragedy rattles our world, let’s remember. Let’s lift our eyes to the Rock of all rocks, the One who is sturdy, strong, unchanging. In so doing our souls find comfort, relief, hope. As Asaph says, “Your way, O God, is holy; what god is great like our God? You are the God who works wonders; You have made known Your strength among the peoples” (77:13, 14).

What's The Point?

Many Christians believe the reason for faith in Christ is to rescue us from hell and secure a place for us in heaven. Take for instance the evangelical question posed by many, “If you died today and God asked you why He should let you in to heaven, what would you say?” If you answer anything other than Jesus you’re not getting in. In other words, Jesus is the key to the door of heaven. But I have a problem with this question. It assumes that the point of the Christian faith is heaven, and I don’t think it is.

While Jesus’ work on the cross does deliver us from hell (rescued from God’s wrath) and set us aside for heaven, when we reduce salvation to our eternal destination we miss the point. So why does He save us? Doesn’t Jesus say He came to bring us eternal life?

The problem arises when we equate everlasting life with heaven. Jesus, instead of focusing on a destination, describes eternal life in terms of a relationship, “This is eternal life, that they may know You, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom you have sent” (John 17:3). Even Peter, Paul and the early missionaries didn’t focus on heaven as they evangelized. They didn’t sell Christianity with the reward of heaven. They didn’t say, “Believe in Jesus so you can get to Paradise,” as if heaven is the point.

Instead, Peter says, “Therefore repent and return, so that your sins may be wiped away, in order that times of refreshing may come from the presence of the Lord” (Acts 3:19). Sin doesn’t merely keep us out of heaven; it separates us from God. In fact our transgressions severed our relationship with Him. Our sin ruptured the union between us and our Creator. In Christ, though, God takes sin out of the way, nailing it to the cross (Col 2:14).

And because He has a set a day in the future to judge sinners, He beckons us now to repentance, “that [we] would seek God, if perhaps [we] might grope for Him and find Him, though He is not far from each one of us; for in Him we live and move and exist” (Acts 17:27, 28ff). As Paul writes, “God was in Christ reconciling the world to Himself, not counting their trespasses against them” (2 Cor 5:19; italics mine). Knowing God, not entrance to heaven, was, and is, the hope offered.

But I wonder, do we see Him as our reward? Is He the one we long for? What exactly is our motivation for believing in Christ? Is it to get to heaven, or to get to know God? Are we more excited about the thought of Paradise, of some life-long stay at a resort in Hawaii, laying out by the pool, sipping on non-alcoholic piña coladas? Or do we yearn for God’s nearness, to live in His presence, seeing His eyes, feeling His embrace, smelling His glorious aroma?

In Scripture, when the authors write of heaven, they focus, not on its perfection, but rather who resides there. John writes of the new Jerusalem, “Behold, the tabernacle of God is among men, and He will dwell among them, and they shall be His people, and God Himself will be among them” (Rev 21:3). Is heaven perfect? Yes. Is it free of pain, sin and death? Yes. Is it full of utter joy, complete satisfaction and relentless love? Yes, but as David writes, “In Your presence is fullness of joy; in Your right hand are pleasures forever” (Ps 16:11). Heaven is all these things because heaven is where God is.

So we Christians do hope for a future place, not because of the location itself, but because of who lives there. Jesus says, “I go and prepare a place for you. If I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and receive you to Myself, that where I am there you may be also” (John 14:2, 3). Jesus doesn’t save us merely so we can enjoy Paradise. He rescues us for Himself.

If in our longing for heaven then we find ourselves yearning for something or someone more than God we miss the gospel. We fail to grasp how good the good news is. Paul says, “For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain” (Phil 1:21). Feeling torn between evangelizing and leaving this world he further says, “But I am hard-pressed from both directions, having the desire to depart and be with Christ, for this is very much better; yet to remain on in the flesh is more necessary for your sake” (Phil 1:23). Paul didn’t focus on death as a passage to heaven; he welcomed death as entrance in to the Savior’s presence.

So let us examine our hearts. Do we only or primarily say yes to Christ to get out of hell and get in to heaven? Or do we say yes because we’ve tasted His goodness and feel overcome with awe and joy that He mended what our sin tore, that we can in fact know God once more? If it’s anything less than the latter, may we wrestle with Jesus’ words of warning, “Many will say to Me on that day, ‘Lord, Lord, did we not prophecy in Your name, and in Your name cast out demons, and in Your name perform many miracles?’ And then I will declare to them, “I never knew you; depart from Me, you who practice lawlessness” (Matt 7:22,23).

God saves us from an eternity separate from Him; He rescues us that we may know and enjoy Him. I fear for our eternal destination if we’ve said yes to Jesus solely as access inside the pearly gates. For those, contrarily, who come to Christ to gain Christ Himself, count all things as loss to know Him now (Phil 3:8), while eagerly awaiting His return (Phil 3:20) when we will see Him face to face, knowing Him in full (I Cor 13:12).

Something To Talk About

“I too, having heard of the faith in the Lord Jesus which exists among you and your love for all the saints, do not cease giving thanks for you... (Eph 1:15, 16a)”

Their reputation preceded them. News had spread. Paul had heard. Apparently the Ephesians loved in such a way that others took notice. I wonder what they had done. Did they financially support others? Had they clothed the cold, fed the famished, adopted the abandoned? Did they weep with the grieving and dance with the happy? Had they labored to build faith into each other? Perhaps they had done all of this and more. Regardless, Paul, though living many miles away, had heard of their love.

Reading this has me thinking about my own life. Can anyone say they have heard of my love for all Christians? Or even a few? Does the way I love make people talk? It should. But ashamedly, I don’t think it does.

Many of us know that Jesus commands us to love each other, and to do so in such a way that others notice. In fact He says, “By this all men will know that you are My disciples, if you have love for one another” (Jn 13:35). He couldn’t speak any clearer. The way the world will know we follow Him is by the way we love. That means we cannot love from the confines of our homes and with lip-service. We must learn to love those we encounter daily and to do so in deed.

Christ calls us to His way of loving (Eph 5:1, 2; Phil 2:5-7). It’s a self-sacrificing love. It’s a love that requires us to deny ourselves for the welfare and benefit of another. Jesus denied Himself paradise and unbroken fellowship with the Father in order to come to us and take our sins upon Himself. In this same way we ought to love each other. Sadly, I more often deny others love in order to serve myself, to secure my comfort, safety, and money.

But I want to follow Jesus, so I’m learning to lay down my own desires. I’m learning to look at the needs in my church, neighborhood, work, home, and places of play. And as I see, I’m seeking out how I might meet these needs with the resources God has given me. Christ met our need through His death, and He wants us to do the same for each other.

So maybe we deny ourselves a few meals at a restaurant in order to buy ingredients to bake bread for the elderly and lonely people in our neighborhoods. Or maybe we deny ourselves a relaxing Saturday in order to labor for the fatherless in our church by mowing their yard, building a fence, providing home maintenance help. Or perhaps we deny ourselves relaxing in front of the television in order to write encouraging cards or make phone calls to the hurting. If we aren’t denying ourselves for the welfare of another we aren’t following Christ.

And as we love, people will start talking, and more importantly, see Christ. We are mere disciples. We look to and learn from a Master greater than us. The fact that we can love sacrificially testifies to the work of His Spirit in us.

So in this day where news can spread across the world in seconds, is anyone talking about the way you or I love others, especially our family in Christ? If we look at our lives and see a lack of love then perhaps we need to travel down Calvary’s road and meet our Savior hanging on a cross. As we meditate on God’s great love toward us in Christ, let us emulate that same love to the people we work with, sit in pews with, live at home with. Let’s give them something to talk about. How about love?