Author: Christine Wyrtzen

Look to the right and see: there is none who takes notice of me; no refuge remains to me; no one cares for my soul. I cry to you, O LORD; I say, “You are my refuge, my portion in the land of the living.  Psalm 142:4-5

If I do something wrong and disappoint someone close to me, perhaps I can make it up to them.  The cost may be personally expensive but maybe I can erase the disappointment and create a better memory within the relationship.  But what of the times I am a disappointment?  When the cause does not lie within me but within their expectations of me?  Can I possibly heal from such unfair rejection and resulting pressure?  Perhaps ~

• I am the wrong gender.  My parents wanted a boy.
• My parents didn’t want children.  I exist – therefore I disappoint.
• I have the wrong gifts.  I’m in one profession but my parents wanted me to pursue another.
• I am too emotional.  My parents are rational and don’t understand me.
• I am an obstacle.  My birth stood in the way of a parent’s career.

I reason that if the people I’ve always looked up to reject me, then I must be the problem, right?  When I am the object of someone’s disappointment, it’s crippling until Jesus offers me a way of escape. The only cure is to be the object of God’s desire.  He says, “I want you.  I love you.  Be mine.  I accept you and celebrate you.  You are unique and have a purpose in my kingdom that no one else can fulfill.”

That heals the wounds of disappointment.  Consider this C.S. Lewis quote.  “If I find in myself desires which nothing in this world can satisfy, the only logical explanation is that I was made for another world.”  On this day, ask God to show you in some way that you are the object of His deep desire.  No one is left out – not on any day.  Beautiful love declarations in scripture are yours today to bask in.

You create out of wisdom, purity, and holiness.  Whatever Your hand fashions, You call ‘good’.  I am Your creation.  If You didn’t want me, You wouldn’t have made me.  I declare today that I am fearfully and wonderfully made, loved by You.  Amen

Oh how I love your law! It is my meditation all the day.  Psalm 119:97

Where does passion come from? For the first 40 years of my life, I wouldn’t have been able to answer the question.  I just knew that I felt guilty because passion was absent.  No matter how much I desired it, I couldn’t manufacture it out of a vacuum.

Passion was absent because God’s Word hadn’t been life-saving to me yet.  I knew kingdom principles in a cerebral way but my soul was still full of the world’s infection; anxious thoughts, private obsessions, and insecurity.  Few could probably tell but that’s only because the church teaches its members to hide their flaws well.  Spiritual disease is rampant beneath polished exteriors.

Passion was finally born when I experienced the power of the cross firsthand.  With life change, I became a zealot.  The good news of the power of our resurrected Lord was on the tip of my tongue just waiting for an outlet.  I’m still a bundle of passion waiting to erupt.  It may be an email that sparks the flow or a lunch date with a friend that turns surprisingly spiritual.

We all have our favorite subjects.  Some of mine are severe weather, World War II, survivor’s stories, and the inner workings of interpersonal relationships.  A conversation that includes one or more of the above is most enjoyable to me.  But none of those can compare to my love for the ways of the kingdom and how they work.  If I put on the coffee, engage with a spiritual partner, I find that the hours are gone in a flash.  In heaven, there will be many 1,000-year-cups-of-coffee as fellowship deepens and spiritual thirst is eternally quenched.

How would it look for my passion to equal yours, Jesus?  However far I need to go, take me.  Amen

All your commandments are sure; they persecute me with falsehood; help me!  Psalm 119:86

All God’s commandments are pure, providing a security that can only be found in a strong foundation.  When we are persecuted unjustly, our feet are standing on the stones of the kingdom.  Circling us, at every side, are towering pillars of truth.  Even though we are granted this kind of support, it’s still difficult to stand in the gale force winds of harassment without God’s help.  Only the grace of His presence will sustain us.

When I’m in a mild kind of discomfort, I find that I can pray at length about my predicament.  My words are plentiful.  But let that discomfort increase to a pain that is excruciating and my words are reduced to one simple phrase, “Jesus, help!”

There’s nothing in the world wrong with that prayer.  Jesus is the one to call on.  Only He can deliver.  Only He can infuse my weakened heart with spiritual fiber.  Only He can enable me to sustain spiritual integrity in the face of taunting. His name, in and of itself, carries spiritual power.  Each facet of His many names carry a promise.  Hanging onto them, in hope, builds strength and intimacy.

Perhaps you are in a pit.  The story of what sent you there is too long to tell anyone.  Open your mouth and cry out, “Jesus, help!”   This should be on my tongue without excuse, without apology.  Jesus never belittles need.  He tells us that we don’t ask for enough, don’t need Him enough.  What a blanket invitation for any stoic.

Jesus, the worst thing I can do when I’m in a pit is forget that I can cry out to You for help.  I grew up ashamed for needing anyone or anything but You’ve taught me to live differently.   I will not shut my mouth when I need speak up. Amen

My shield is with God, Who saves the upright in heart.  God is a righteous judge, and a God who has indignation every day.  Psalm 7:10-11

God’s wrath is not a subject most churches address and of the few that do, some exclude adequate teaching of God’s grace.  Focusing on either one, while ignoring the other, distorts the Gospel and hurts any congregation.  A right view of the character of God can only be attained when His wrath, and His grace, are understood in balance.

One of the reasons people prefer not to think about God’s wrath is because of their experience with angry people.  God’s wrath is not of the human kind. We all know an angry person who never stops being angry.  Those near them can’t do anything right.

 There are two New Testament words for wrath.  One is ‘thymos’; meaning a panting rage.  The other is ‘orge’; meaning something which simmers and ripens.  ‘Thymos’ is used in the book of Revelation to describe the wrath of God that will be poured out one future day in all of its fury.  However, in every other instance in the New Testament, ‘orge’ is used.  God wants us to know that he does not reach out to strike just because He has been momentarily offended.  He’s not temperamental.  Instead, He’s longsuffering in nature.  His anger simmers over a long period of time as He sees wickedness spread over the earth.  A ripened anger results and will one day culminate in the eternal condemnation of all who have not trusted Christ as their Savior.

Jesus’ death provided a way of escape from God’s wrath; both the panting kind of rage and the simmering kind.  My unrighteousness, the sin which deserved His full punishment and condemnation, went to Christ instead.  He took God’s wrath in my place.  Because I am dressed in His holiness, I get to live in a tender, intimate relationship with His Father. I don’t have enough words to express what that privilege means to me.

Sin suppresses the truth of God’s character.  It encourages people to reject a God who tells them that they are sinners and need to repent or face His wrath.  But God’s people, sinless and justified, love the Truth and are willing to listen to God regardless of how much the Gospel once offended them.  That small test is one way to tell whether or not I am God’s child.  Do I love the truth even when God’s wrath is the subject matter?  Am I able to understand that God is just and yet embrace Him with the confidence of a forgiven child?

Knowing that the full manifestation of Your wrath is still to come, I am compelled to tell the story of the cross to those still under the curse with even more urgency.  Forgive my laziness, Father.  Amen

You make known to me the path of life; in your presence there is fullness of joy; at your right hand are pleasures forevermore.  Psalm 16:11

It’s taken me much of my life to understand that I am a dearly loved child of Abba.  It feels safe to be me.  Most of the time, I see myself through His eyes.  I thought I’d never say this but I actually like me, the person He created.  Because of that, I dream without worrying He might think my ideas are too outrageous.  Some would say that the time for dreaming is past.  The prime of life is behind me.  I disagree.  The expanse of eternity lies in front of me.  Whatever I don’t get to do here, I will do in eternity.

God has liberated the child inside; once shriveled and hiding because of experiences on earth.  There is an ever growing panorama of color as my beige internal world is being transformed.  I am alive to new appetites.  Truths that were once lifeless empower a new way of living.   Do I feel this way every day?  No way.  But when I don’t, I still know the truth and anticipate feeling it again.  When life hurts, I know how to go home and heal, daily, from the ravages of life in a world where God is not yet acknowledged as King.

Your Father calls you home, too.  He invites you to come to the place where you can be yourself, take your shoes off, and curl up in your favorite chair.  He wants to sing you His songs and tell you His stories.  Discovering His perspective changes the way you and I live our lives.  Forever.  Sounds like a fairy tale, doesn’t it?  It is.  It’s just that we’re not home yet so we only see faint glimpses of the reality.

I live in hope deferred.  Yet, hope assured.  There are days I can taste it.  Amen

For it is not an enemy who taunts me— then I could bear it; it is not an adversary who deals insolently with me— then I could hide from him.  Psalm 55:12

Someone who has been wronged often keeps his heart safely concealed until the nature of the offender’s heart is revealed. He waits for signs of true remorse.  Trust must be earned so there can be emotional safety.

What is my response to a sincere apology? If I’ve been in a relationship that turned treacherous, one that required that I prudently step back for time, it might appear to the other person that my heart is cold. But, in fact, I am praying for us both. I’m praying that their hardened heart will eventually soften because of the conviction of the Spirit, and I’m also praying that mine will not become hardened because of unforgiveness. The only reason Joseph could handle his brothers in Egypt with such wisdom is because he had many thousands of hours alone with God. He, a Hebrew, had lived as an outsider in Egyptian territory. Loneliness was God’s gift and the perfect training ground for impartial leadership.

Who has offered, what appears to be, a sincere apology? If God speaks to me and tells me that true remorse is present, what will my heart do? Will I keep it imprisoned in my tower of self-protection? Or, like Joseph, will I be willing to pour out the tears that have been hidden? Letting another see my heart is only possible when pride is put aside. How many times have I said, “I’ll never let them see my cry!”   Jesus, had vast emotional capacities. He had many faces as he related to others. There were moments when he would have been called stoic but underneath was a current of tears that gave away the heart of a brokenhearted Savior.

There’s a time and a season for everything. There’s a time to conceal and a time to reveal. I have to be careful that I don’t live a life of concealment; ever protecting a heart that has been hurt one too many times. I also have to be careful that I don’t live a life of complete openness; allowing anyone and everyone access to my thoughts and emotions. Real maturity is knowing what Jesus would do in the midst of complicated and ever shifting relationships.

Without instruction of whispers from You, I’m easily bent in wrong directions. I need Your wisdom.  Amen

I bless the LORD who gives me counsel; in the night also my heart instructs me. Psalm 16:7

Truth tellers aren’t afraid to confront others if necessary.  In fact, they can even enjoy it and see it as a sport.  They just don’t understand those who love peace and who struggle before entering a conflict.

It’s always a shock when a peacemaker is willing to fight.  It’s equally shocking when a fighter lays down his sword and pulls a chair up to the table to seek peace.  Both have earned a reputation for responding to life in a certain way but out of the blue, they might make a different choice and shock everyone around them.

Each of us is bent, because of our personality, more toward one or the other.  Gentle spirits love peace and hate conflict.  Feisty spirits love a good fight and see those who seek peace as being weak.

We build a track record for only responding one way and those around us count on us reacting as we have always done.  I am a peacemaker, by nature, and not easily inflamed.  It takes a lot to anger me and while that can appear admirable, I can tell you that it can be a fault.  A friend once told me, after hearing a few stories where I was badly harassed by others, that I was patient to a fault.  She was right.

A balanced child of God, one who is like Jesus, does not act solely out of his personality type.  He listens to Jesus and follows Him even when he is asked to do something difficult.  A fighter needs to learn to be still.  A peacemaker needs to learn how to fight.  There is a time to take the hill and there is a time to flee conflict.

Many of us can live our lives thinking that the bents of our personality are righteous.  Peacemakers applaud all peacemaking and throw stones at those who always want to lead a charge.  Fighters ridicule peacemakers and believe them to be weak.  May we meet in the middle?  Both are needed and both, acting under the direction of the Spirit, play pivotal roles in the purposes of God.

Teach me when to fight and when to retreat.  Give me the boldness to step outside of my peacemaker box and reassurance when I am am called to do what comes natural – be an agent of reconciliation. In Jesus name,  Amen

Teach me to do Your will, For You are my God; Let Your good Spirit lead me on level ground.
  Psalms 143:10

God fathers each child differently. His path is a solitary one and my journey will never imitate that of my parents. If my parents were iconic in their faith, the expectations for me to follow in their footsteps will be impossible to attain. I am not either parent nor should I try to be.

The patriarchs modeled this kind of obedience.  Isaac was told by God to avoid Egypt during a time of famine. God made it clear that Egypt was off limits. But God’s plan for Isaac’s son, Jacob, was different. In his famine, Egypt was the place he was to go and settle. Doing something different from his father had to feel frightening at first. Jacob must have been confused as he embarked on a journey so peculiar.

God stretched me out of my family’s mold sometime in my mid-forties. My views of some peripheral biblical issues differed from that of my father and the legalistic church I was raised in. There were some tense discussions and feelings from his disapproval created a shadow over our relationship.  With time, it improved as it became clear to him that God had His hand on my life and I learned to speak of my new positions with grace. Before he died, God moved us on to the same page through some ‘end of life’ experiences and I am so thankful.

To complicate matters, I married young into a well-known Christian family whose patriarch was a famous evangelist. Things were harmonious throughout the early years of our marriage because both Ron and I held to the family’s views on most every biblical issue. Eventually though, God began to take us on the journey He had planned for us. It meant leaving home and the ministry his father started. Though we still agreed on the tenets of the Gospel, our interpretations of secondary issues of grace didn’t gel. Again, we experienced feelings that we were outsiders and it was painful to no longer fit.

God’s message to each disciple is clear. We are His children first and members of our earthly family second. Egypt may be denied to our fathers but permissible for us. God is a kind Father who leads deliberately ~ giving His child the courage to take steps away from our ‘family’s way of doing things’. The fallout can make us second-guess our new direction but God gives grace with the call to go where He sends us. His voice is wild and wonderful; his ways are peculiar and solitary. Any price we pay is long compensated by the joy of hearing God say, “Well done!”

My heart begs to be shaped by You, and by no one else. Amen

Some trust in chariots and some in horses, but we trust in the name of the LORD our God.  Psalm 20:7

Futility.  When is the last time you felt it?  Probably the last time you realized that there are things you just can’t fix.  What’s broken stays broken.  Because it’s too painful to admit that, you exhaust yourself by applying human band-aids.  Your efforts do seem to make enough of a difference to stop the bleeding.  It’s profound enough to cause you to get up and exert another round of superhuman attempt.  But extract yourself from the situation and it won’t take long for the intensity of the problem to resurface.

Remember the feeding of the 5,000?  Jesus was filled with compassion by the crowd’s hunger.  He knew that people in physical distress wouldn’t be able to listen to a kingdom message so He sought to alleviate that by providing a meal.  He turned to Phillip.  “Where shall we buy bread to feed these people?”  This was a test.  He hoped that Phillip would have experienced enough of Jesus’ divinity to fashion this reply, “Only you can provide supernatural amounts of bread, Lord.”  But instead, Phillip calculates how many days wages might buy a meager supply of food but at the end of his problem solving, he had to admit that the situation was still hopeless.  Jesus was the only answer but Phillip didn’t consider that.

The same kinds of questions still come to us today.  Can you hear them in your spirit?  Wherever you and I have a need, there is a corresponding question.

Where will you buy compassion today?  It appears that no one understands your struggles.

Where will you buy peace?  Angry people are your companions and they are not turning to the Prince of Peace.

Where will you buy intimacy?  Loneliness is making you cynical and withdrawn.

Where will you buy intervention?  All you know is abandonment.

Where will you buy the provision you seek?  You have nothing left to sell.

The questions still exist and the test is still divinely administered.  The answer is still the same but how will we respond?  By working harder?  Laboring longer?  Waiting for humanity to deliver?

Jesus, You are my only answer.  I will stop grabbing, manipulating, and despairing.  You hold my answer in Your hands.  In Your name, Amen

O my God, in you I trust; let me not be put to shame; let not my enemies exult over me. Psalm 25:2

What are the things you regret?  Regret is a powerful emotion and if I choose to live in it without having placed all my hopes in a God who redeems, I will become depressed and withdrawn.  There were words spoken that I can’t take back.  There were a series of selfish acts that seemed so small at the time but yielded great pain for those around me.  That is the cruelty of sin; what looked like no big deal led me to do it a second time, then a third, and it wasn’t long before guilt became my ever constant companion.  I have thought many times, “If only I could go back and do it right!”

Wisdom runs deep in the heart of a repentant sinner. I am passionate about the lessons I’ve learned from my mistakes.  Give me a soapbox (and God has) and I’ll proclaim loudly, “Don’t do it!  You can’t afford the ultimate consequences of shame and regret.”

The real tragedy is the child of God who has come to Christ but has never tapped into what it means to ‘abide’ to experience a resurrection power that heals places of shame.  Many, including myself for a few decades, lived in the bitter place of regret.  I numbed my pain with service to God, hoping to lessen my guilt.  This proved futile and led to an emotional crash in my forties.

Every now and then, I have to stop everything and look honestly at how my sin has shaped me.  Sin slaughters hope.  Forgiveness resuscitates it.  Is there something I’ve done that still causes me to shrink and live small?  As a fly feeds on rotting flesh, Satan feeds on guilt and shame.  He’ll parade my past before my eyes continually if I let him.  Every memory where my body still slumps as it remembers needs to be impacted again by the good news of God’s unfathomable mercy.

You never intended for your children to live in the shadows of regret.  The tears of repentance are meant to lead me to the joy of forgiveness and a new beginning.  I don’t want to wince as I remember.  In Jesus name, Amen