Author: Christine Wyrtzen

The directions of Yahweh are pure, enlightening the eyes.  Psalm 19:8

At creation, when there was darkness and chaos, God said, ‘Let there be light.’  He shed some light on the world and brought order. 

Do you have a situation in your life that lacks clarity?  Have you been asking God for understanding?  Once He chooses to bestow the gift of light, His influence over darkened, confused, and oppressed minds is pervasive.  He illuminates what is cloudy.  He puts a magnifying glass over the twisted strands of thread, and suddenly, we can see the steps we need to take to untangle what is knotted. 

For years, I may have struggled with a situation that seems wrong.  I’m not at peace.  I am in conflict when I think about it.  But I don’t have clarity on what it is that’s wrong.  Yesterday was one of those days that will go down in personal history.  God shed light on things that lived in the shadows.  Illumined, I could see everything clearly; today, there is a roadmap.  Yesterday, I was lost in the fog.  Today, I have discovered God’s plan.  Yesterday, I was grasping at spiritual straws.  Today, I have what I need in my hands.  Yesterday, I had faith but no enlightenment.  Today, I have hope because my prayers are precise.

The Word of God gives light to the eyes.  Today, God is going to be the Light-giver across this dark landscape.  For someone, He will cure spiritual blindness and allow them to see the light and glory of Jesus.  For someone else, He will turn the light on a concept that correctly diagnoses what has been spiritually disfigured.  For a teacher, He will enlighten a passage and give spiritual understanding for Sunday’s lesson.  For a mother, He will enlighten the spiritual condition of her child so that she can apply spiritual cures.  For a business owner, God will enlighten the discord within his company and lead him to replace worldly business strategies with scripture-based principles.

Light is a life-saving thing.  When I need it, and God gives it, I fall on my knees in gratitude.  And when He gives it, I am responsible for taking the light to the darkness and exerting spiritual rule in favor of the kingdom.

Show me what to do with what You’ve shown me.  I am Your city on a hill.  In Jesus’ name, Amen

Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called sons of God. Matthew 5:9

I used to think I was a peacemaker. It was a shock when I realized that I wasn’t. I was too afraid to take a stand for righteousness. I despised conflict and feared rejection, so I tried to mend stress around me in any way I could. This is not what Jesus meant when he said peacemakers will be blessed.

If I’m a peacemaker, I will find myself in the center of the stress. I will stand in the tension to bring shalom to the situation. If others are enjoying making disparaging comments about someone, I will defend the one being talked about. I will try to bring gentle words to disarm the anger being expressed.  The Holy Spirit may also nudge me to express displeasure that such a lynching is taking place.

This is not easy.  People love to be angry.  Following Jesus and attempting to restore unity between offending parties can bring attacks from both sides.  It will be said that I’m not hearing them, that I don’t understand.  They might even say that I’ve betrayed them. But God’s Spirit whispers to me during the scuffle and says, “I will bless you for this.”

Jesus stood up for the outcast. He defended a woman at a dinner table who was the brunt of everyone else’s comments. And lately, I witnessed believers throw verbal stones at others. I knew all the parties involved and could discern unseen bruises. I felt Jesus’ aching heart for the ones being hurt.  As a witness, I knew I had to do something. To bring peace, I had first to bring a sword and cut unrighteousness asunder.  Although there was no great outcome, Jesus not only assured me of divine favor but also comforted me in the aftermath.

I don’t like to stand alone.  It’s not the way You created me.  But You had to do it too.  You will help me. Amen

Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.  Matthew 5:8

Being pure of heart doesn’t mean having a perfect heart. That’s good news because about the time I read the verse, I could feel a hopeless sense of inadequacy. I know that I’m not perfect and never will be on this earth. It would be tempting to throw up my hands. So, Jesus must be talking about something else.  Being pure in heart means ‘living with an undivided heart’.  My passions are not split between love for God and other lesser loves.  My inside world is not a divided kingdom.  By God’s grace, I live with an inner alignment where my heart is single-focused.

I feel it intensely when things aren’t right.  When my ego has crept in, when I struggle with mixed motives, when I’ve put on a disingenuous smile, I’m pretty miserable and ask the Holy Spirit for the strength to regain my spiritual equilibrium.  I long for that clear heart again.  

Knowing that it is those with an undivided heart who will see God, I find a lot of comfort in knowing that it is not the educated, nor the accomplished and admired, nor even the renowned Bible scholar, who shall see God. He reveals Himself in all of His glory to anyone who puts aside their idols and embraces Him as their one and only treasure. 

With competing idols removed, I don’t need to be impressive; I need to be true.  I don’t need to perform; I need to be authentic.  I don’t need to self-protect; I need to extend my heart when God nudges and know that He will catch me when there’s a disappointing outcome.  I don’t need to live in a civil war. Peace has been won and paid for by the blood of Jesus.  When I notice the first signs of anxiety, I will know that the kingdom inside needs attention.  If I address it and look upon the beautiful face of my Savior, soul and spirit alignment return.  

It’s so easy to be lazy, looking away, feeding wrong appetites.  Tune my heart to see You as You are until I am captivated again.  Amen

Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy.  Matthew 5:7

Could the takeaway message from God’s heart be this?  “The one who lives like Me will experience Me.”  I believe this is one of them.  God’s favor will be on the one whose heart is like His.  But there are some other applications as well. 

Consider this common scenario. A parent who raised their children in a harsh, unkind environment reaches the end of their life. When they are weak and need compassion, their adult children aren’t there for them. From a human perspective, why would they be? 

I recall an older movie where a mother in her 90s asked her son (who seemed to have no heart for her), “Who taught you to treat others with such cruelty?” Her son responded without emotion, “You did, Mama. You did!”  I think there is a well-known saying ~ ‘Show others how you wish to be treated.’

Even though I possess the spiritual gift of mercy, I need the Holy Spirit’s help every day to use it properly. Without Him, I might only want to reach out to those I believe deserve it, such as those who have suffered at the hands of others or those who have led a good life but have fallen on hard times. I might lack mercy for someone who has reaped a lifetime of sin. And what about someone who has committed a heinous crime? How much mercy will there be then? 

Mercy is something we ache for but also something we must give.  We cannot offer it as God gives it without the Holy Spirit’s help and power.  Only then will we feel what others feel.  Only then will we see behind someone’s behavior.  He will help us become more intuitive in recognizing the pain behind someone’s harsh words, controlling behavior, or punishing silence.  Something softer can arise in us to understand and offer healing instead of judgment.  This is the shape of mercy.  It’s love when it costs us.  

When it’s risky to show mercy, help me.  And show me when I need to extend mercy to myself.  Amen

“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied.”  Matthew 5:6

This beatitude is about longing—a longing for wholeness and an ache for things to be made right. It’s about desiring what God desires.  He is eager to restore paradise, to put the world in order, and to bring shalom to everyone and everything. 

Unless we’ve become cynical and given up, we’ve carried this longing since childhood. From the first time we felt injustice and from the initial wound we sustained from imperfect love, we’ve walked around homesick for heaven. We knew that things were supposed to be different. 

If we are like Jesus, our hunger and thirst for righteousness will only grow as we age. It takes courage to ache for shalom. Unless we are sure of our Hope, we won’t wait well. We’ll find it’s easier to settle for imperfection and numb ourselves to the disappointments we feel. 

Are you, like me, longing for justice where there’s oppression and for mercy where there’s cruelty? 

Are you longing for peace in your relationships, for deeper sharing, and for love without manipulation or self-centeredness?  

Are you longing for an undivided heart where you can walk closely with God without conflicting motives? 

Jesus says that our appetites for these things will be filled because our hunger and thirst are alive and well. We are not wrong for having aching hearts; we’re connected to the heart of God. So, let’s continue to weep, fast, pray, and persevere even if most of the world is numb. Let’s stay awake and dare to kindle the faith that says beauty can, and will, rise from the ashes. Right now, the longing for it can feel like grief, but this ache is a gift. It keeps our eyes on Jesus. It keeps us on our knees praying for the restoration of things.  

In many ways, this can happen now. Jesus told us the kingdom is here. Paradise can be restored in hearts that are being sanctified. Jesus, in all His perfection, offers us Himself. He is Bread, and He invites us to eat. The Bread of Life satisfies. Our inner world can thrive even as our mortal flesh decays. We don’t have to wait for eternity to experience internal shalom. The Word and the Spirit will make all things new inside of us. The words of Jesus in this Beatitude are fulfilled now, in the heart of every child of God who pursues Him relentlessly and lives in His presence. 

Satisfy me, Jesus, not with easy answers, but with You. I won’t numb this ache. It’s not too much because You meet me in the middle of it. Thank you. Amen.

Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.  Matthew 5: 5

Have you heard the phrase, ‘Meekness is weakness’? It’s simply not true. And who would want to become meek if it were? Let’s explore what it really means. 

To be meek is to ‘possess quiet strength’.  It is personal power that has been surrendered to God.  For instance, when there’s a desire to lash out and set the record straight, He may lead us to be silent instead.  Strength is gentleness under restraint.  Moses was called “very meek, more than all the people on the earth.”  He led a rebellious, complaining people across the wilderness, carried their needs to God, and was patient with their weaknesses.  He didn’t lead by force but listened to God to shape his role, sometimes at great personal cost. 

When I am meek, I learn from the past and lay down my ego, but I don’t necessarily silence my voice. If God leads me to speak, I will do so from a place of spiritual rootedness rather than emotional reactivity.

I am a quiet, reserved person who filters my thoughts carefully before speaking, so I’m not one to say things I might later regret and need to apologize for. However, I also dislike confrontation. Sometimes I don’t speak up when I know I should. But meekness isn’t synonymous with being quiet. Jesus was meek when He turned over the tables in the temple because He had surrendered His right to use His power to His Father, even though He would have had the wisdom to know how to use it. 

What is the reward for being meek according to this beatitude?  It’s something more valuable than control, attention, and power.  We are told that we will ‘inherit the Earth.’   The promise of possessing the land was one that the Jewish people understood.  It comprised their early history.  They remembered their ancestors who were freed from slavery and embarked on a journey to the promised land.  Jesus wants us to know that instead of ‘taking the land for our inheritance’, we will ‘inherit it.’  It is a gift, not a conquest. 

The land we’ll inherit is spiritual ground ~ anointed influence with spiritual authority. 

The introvert struggles with being meek.  They have less trouble being quiet but often for the wrong reasons.  They hide out of fear and are self-protective for fear of confrontation.  Jesus says, “Come out, let me live through you.  I’ll show you how to be strong.”

The extrovert struggles with being meek, too.  They are prone to speak without being prayerful and taking charge before receiving orders.  Jesus says, “Restrain yourself. Your plans need to be shaped prayerfully by Me.  Surrender your need for notoriety.”

Lord, You promise spiritual influence if I first surrender. Whatever is gained is for Your glory, not mine.  Amen

Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. Matthew 5:4

Mourning is the acknowledgement that something has been broken.  What should have been whole has been shattered.  It’s what erupts out of the soul when you stand in a place and dare to really see things as they are.  You won’t let yourself look away to feel better.  You feel the fracture and see the layers of it. 

Mourning does come naturally to an artistic personality type. I’ve been called an empathic idealist, and I’ll admit, I do live with a heightened sensitivity to pain. I mourn personal losses, but I also feel the pain of others’ sorrows. I sense the weight of their injustices, traumas, and broken relationships.  That has overwhelmed me at times, and I didn’t come up for air. I’ve learned that I must be intentional in avoiding imbalance.  I was meant to live in joy and in the enjoyment of God’s presence.   

When sorrow does touch our lives, we can know that Jesus does not dismiss our tears nor try to temper them with upbeat, cheery messages.  He wants us to know that our sorrow is sacred.  It is not evidence of faithlessness, but that we dwell near the heart of God. 

The world says, “Enough. Stop crying.  Stay strong. Move on.” 

Jesus says, “Cry here with me. You’re safe. You are seen, and I will comfort you.” 

You and I were created for more than this world offers.  More beauty, more connection, more peace, and when life disappoints, we mourn the loss as well as the painful differences between earth and heaven.  We were born with the seed of eternity in our hearts.  We remember what perfection feels like, and the ache of the Fall is in our bones.  It would be UN-natural not to feel it and react. 

I’m in my senior years. I’ve mourned many things. I can tell you with certainty that God meets His children when they mourn. He doesn’t just soothe; He transforms as we come to know Him in the travail He suffered while journeying to the cross. His comfort isn’t a band-aid; it’s communion. He does not explain away sorrow; He sits in it and feels it with us.

Comfort comes to us liberally – all the way to the dawn. 

I want to be a vessel for comfort because I’ve known You, my Comforter.  Amen

“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”  Matthew 5:3

The poor in spirit are those who reach the end of themselves and quietly admit, “I can’t do life on my own.” Being poor in spirit isn’t about self-hatred. It’s a profound and holy emptiness. This void is what opens the door to intimacy with God. Some people seem to connect with this vulnerable truth, where there is full surrender. They get to see the kingdom bloom within them. 

Jesus asks me every day to confront my fragile self-esteem. Daily, I’m invited to be poor, to peel away fear, until all that remains is a woman standing before God with empty hands. This is never a one-time awakening but an ongoing invitation to live without pretense or striving. For me, a woman who has spent her life on a stage, fighting the flesh and the urge to perform and impress, this battle must be intentional. 

I’ve heard it said that my greatest need is not to be loved, but to love God. As I love God, I am healed of preoccupation with myself. In the quiet inner chamber of my heart, I see the disparity between God’s holiness and my own fragility. I fall in love with a Father who is drawn to my need. The more I need Him, the more He enjoys it. When I empty myself, the kingdom of heaven opens to me. 

It’s as if God says, “You who feel small, unseen, and inadequate… you belong to My Kingdom. You don’t have to achieve or even sparkle to be worthy. Your need is the door.” For anyone who lives with deep longing, this beatitude is a precious promise. The more emptied I become, the more space there is for God’s presence to dwell tenderly and powerfully.

Lord, throughout my life, you saw me throw up my hands and give up.  I was angry that I needed You.  I thought I was ‘poor in spirit.’ I wasn’t.  Thank you for helping me empty myself with gratitude.  Amen