Tag: bible

It’s Never a Formula!

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Having said these things, He spat on the ground and made mud with the saliva.  Then He anointed the man’s eyes with the mud and said, “Go wash in the pool of Siloam.”  John 9:6-7

Each of us needs supernatural healing from God, whether physical healing, emotional healing, or perhaps even spiritual healing from something related to spiritual abuse. When we hear that someone else received it, we’re eager to listen to their story.  We want to know how it happened and when it happened.  As they tell us about it, we wonder if something in their story holds the secret to our own breakthrough.

But there is no formula.  Jesus never offered any nor did He conform to them.  He varied His methods of healing.  Once, Jesus put spit on a man’s eyes.  Another time, he just touched them, and the man could see.  In John 9, he put mud on another man’s eyes and told him to go to the pool of Siloam, in the southeast corner of Jerusalem, to wash the mud off.  Why such a wide variety of methods? 

Here’s a thought.  If Jesus consistently sent blind men to the pool of Siloam to wash their eyes, every blind person would have attempted to travel to the ‘miracle pool.’  The grandeur of the tales about Siloam would have obscured the power of Jesus, and He would not share His glory with another.   The whole point of blind people receiving their sight was that they encountered Jesus Christ.

For any who is waiting on God, we know how tempted we are to work hard for our miracle.  We pray and read more, trying to uncover the secret of getting God to move on our behalf.  If such miracles depended on self-effort, we would all get our breakthrough sooner.  But on the other side of it, what would be our testimony?  “When I did this, the miracle happened.”  

Encounters with Jesus are happening all over the world at this very moment. He’s speaking to someone sitting at an airport gate, and another will feel His presence in the kitchen packing their child’s lunch.  You may sense a holy encounter when you see handwritten notes in your mother’s bible.  The Lord still changes bitter waters to sweet springs of Living Water.  

How I love this Charles Spurgeon quote:  

Do not call yourself Mara but remember the new name the Lord named you. Don’t be so ready to affix to yourself names of sad memorials; your griefs have tainted your memory.  Do not aid them to sting you. Call the well by another name.  Remember Jehovah Rapha, the Lord that heals both you and the waters. Record His mercy rather than the sorrows and thank the Most High God.

Kindness of God Amidst Consequences

Published on by Christine Wyrtzen1 Comment

Now as soon as Jacob saw Rachel the daughter of Laban his mother’s brother, and the sheep of Laban his mother’s brother, Jacob came near and rolled the stone from the well’s mouth and watered the flock of Laban his mother’s brother. Then Jacob kissed Rachel and wept aloud. Genesis 29:10-11

When Jacob first saw Rachel, he wept.  In fact, he wailed. It was not a quiet tear slipping down the cheek, but the kind of weeping that breaks open and cannot be contained. I find myself wishing, as I often do with Scripture, for more detail. What was in those tears? Was he stunned by the kindness of God? Relieved to have reached the end of a long journey? Overwhelmed by Rachel’s beauty? Or did something in him simply give way all at once? We are not told. We are left to wonder.

What we do know is that Jacob did not arrive in that field carefree. He came there because he had to leave home. His departure was not the beginning of some romantic adventure; it was the fallout of deceit, the aftershock of sin. He had wronged his brother and complicated his own future. That kind of history leaves a mark on the soul. Yes, God had met him on the road. Yes, He had spoken a blessing over him in a dream. But blessing does not erase consequences, and mercy does not always cancel the painful harvest of what we have sown. But here, in this moment, God gave him a gift he could not have scripted for himself. Grace met him in the middle of consequence.

That moves me deeply, because it is so often how God deals with us. He does not pretend our past did not happen. He does not wave away the shadows cast by our choices. But neither does He leave us to live only under those shadows. He knows how to lay unexpected kindness right in the middle of a complicated story. He knows how to send beauty across the path of a person who still carries regret. He knows how to make the heart break open, not only with sorrow, but with astonished joy.

As I look back over my own spiritual journey, I can still see the places where painful consequences have lingered. Some choices leave long shadows. And yet, grace has never stopped meeting me there. God has not only helped me endure the harder parts of my story; He has also redeemed them in ways I never could have imagined. I know now what it is to weep for relief, for surprise, for joy, for the sheer tenderness of being met by God in places where I expected only loss.

There was a time when I thought tears belonged mostly to sorrow. But God is teaching me another kind of weeping—the kind of tears that say, without words, I did not know You would be this kind.

Make my heart even more open to the surprising kindness of Your grace. Amen

Reflection: What joyful tears could be yours? All that it requires is renouncing the lie that you’re exempt or excluded from God’s blessing.

Walking In The Ways Of My Parents

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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 of His children differently. His path for me is a solitary one, and it will never perfectly mirror the path He chose for my parents. If my parents were iconic in their faith, trying to “measure up” to their story can feel suffocating and impossible. I am not either of them, nor am I meant to be.

Scripture itself reflects this. Isaac was told by God not to go down to Egypt during the famine; Egypt was off limits to him. Yet Isaac’s son, Jacob, was led by God into Egypt in his famine and told to settle there. The very place that was forbidden to the father became the place of provision for the son. Obedience did not look identical from one generation to the next. I imagine Jacob’s confusion at first ~ doing something so different from what his father had been told must have felt risky, even disloyal. And yet it was the will of God for him.

God stretched me out of my own family’s mold in my mid-forties. Some of my views on peripheral biblical issues began to differ from those of my father and the legalistic church that shaped my early faith. The conversations were tense. His disapproval cast a shadow over our relationship for a time. But as the years passed, he saw that God’s hand was on my life, and I learned to speak of my convictions with more grace and less defensiveness. Before he died, the Lord brought us beautifully onto the same page through some “end-of-life” mercies. I treasure that.

Through all of this, God’s message has grown clearer.  I am His children first, and members of my earthly family second. Egypt may be off-limits to my father and yet, in another season, be precisely where He sends me. The point is not to replicate anyone else’s obedience, but to respond to the voice of my own Shepherd.

He is a kind Father who leads deliberately, giving His children the courage to step away from “the way our family has always done it” when He asks. The relational fallout can make us second-guess the path, but the same grace that calls us also sustains us. His voice is sometimes wild and wonderfully peculiar. His way is often solitary. But any price we pay is more than repaid in the joy of walking in step with Him, and one day, in hearing Him say, “Well done.”

I long to be shaped by You, Father, by Your Word, Your Spirit, and no one else.  Amen.

Artful Ways of Wisdom

Published on by Christine Wyrtzen1 Comment

He leads me in paths of righteousness . . . Psalm 23:4a

I have often been at critical junctures, wanting to follow God’s paths but having no idea what they were. I was frustrated by the ambiguity. I knew God promised to lead me. He said we are sheep and cannot find our way without His guidance, but I wondered why He did not speak louder so His paths could be discerned.

God is all about growing me up into the stature and maturity of His Son.  If I don’t have to think for myself at all, isn’t this spiritual toddlerhood?  Infant faith does begin with baby steps, but mature faith requires that I engage my intellectual faculties to the glory of God.

“Those who are skittish when it comes to rigorous study, deep thinking, and theological precision have wanted us to believe that our problem is the mind, when in fact it’s the flesh.”  Sam Storms

I have such high respect for Sam Storms. He’s right. These are not the days for laziness. I must know how to build precept upon precept in the artful ways of wisdom.  Sound decisions are made by students of the Word who have set out to learn the mind of God through Scripture with humility and spiritual poverty.  And just as importantly, sound decisions are made by disciples who are like the Apostle John, who spent time with his head on Jesus’ chest, cultivating an intimate relationship. Learning to think ~ and learning to hear God’s still small voice ~ are equally important.

Knowledge tempts me to be proud, but it is not knowledge that is the enemy.  It is my pride.  Paths of righteousness are ever before me.  God makes them clear for every level of spiritual development.  Milk for the babes; meat for the mature.  And, in that light, I can know that God will grant me the humility to listen, the grace to obey, but He also encourages every intellectual pursuit to be harnessed to the truth of the Scriptures.

I can be lazy and want to be led like a baby.  Forgive me.  Amen

The Rhythm I’m Meant To Know

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In the daytime, sheep are led into open fields. They eat, rest, wander a little, and stay within earshot of the shepherd. At night, they are gathered back into the fold, where it is safe and familiar. Day after day, night after night, their routine offers security, abundance, and relationship.

The rhythm of a Christian’s life, the person who knows Jesus, should also be one of resting, grazing, and working.

·      When I feel threatened by circumstances or just my own fears, I run back to the shepherd and the safety of the fold. My heart may be beating wildly, but when I stay close, I’m not exposed. He gives me a place to breathe again. Real rest isn’t something I earn; it’s something He loves to give.

·      When I’m following Him, there is always something to feed my soul. His Word is like a pasture that doesn’t wear out. It must surely resemble the lush green landscapes of New Zealand, the most beautiful countryside I have ever seen. Take a backcountry road, and what you see around every turn is another pasture dotted with sheep. Each view is a postcard.  That’s how stunning Scripture is when I come hungry.

·      When I’ve been fed, there is work to do. But it’s not the kind of work that uses me up and leaves me empty. The same Shepherd who feeds me is the One who calls me. He doesn’t hand me a heavy assignment and walk away. He walks alongside. He carries what I cannot. “My yoke is easy and my burden is light” becomes something I experience, not just quote. Work inside that kind of relationship is a joy, not a sentence.

When this rhythm is mine, the rest of the Psalm begins to feel very real and possible.When this rhythm is present, the rest of the Psalm begins to feel very real and possible.

Your pastures are good, Jesus. I have rested. I have eaten. I will work joyfully beside You. Amen.

The Humblest Suffering Servant

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Blessed is the man whose sin the LORD does not count against him. Psalm 32:1

The children of Israel knew well that God judges sin.  They experienced it firsthand. For them to believe that God would send a Messiah for reasons other than judgment was a stretch.  Never could they have imagined that Jesus would come, not to condemn but to extend mercy. 

Why, at the announcement of salvation, might I prefer condemnation?  I contend that self-hatred is addictive.  I’d rather despise myself than let God love me.  I can be like those who sinned against God in the wilderness and then refused to look at the serpent on the pole to be saved.  They nursed their grudges against His holiness and preferred to self-destruct. 

I’ve gone so far as to admit my guilt, confess it, but then wallow around in it, insisting that I don’t deserve to be forgiven.  Self-condemnation feels justified and quite comfortable the longer I wear it.  I throw myself a long pity party and shun the Forgiver. I feel quite powerful as I exert my freedom to say ‘no.’ Satan celebrates when this kind of twisted pleasure keeps God’s creation from salvation.  

Jesus did not come into the world to judge it as proven by sacrifice.  He affirmed that sin must be judged and paid for, but then paid for it Himself.  Oh, to have paid such a price only to see people reject the gift of this expensive pardon.  Jesus is the humblest suffering Servant of all.  

Does my own self-inflicted guilt keep me from receiving Your forgiveness?  Break my chains.  Amen

When Nothing Feels Safe

Published on by Christine Wyrtzen1 Comment

The wicked lie in wait to destroy me, but I consider all your testimonies.  Psalm 119:95

This world offers us no real stability. Sooner or later, everything we lean on begins to shift beneath our feet. If our security is in a job, we live with the quiet fear of losing it. If it’s in money, we feel the tremor of every wobble in the economy. If it’s in a person, uneasiness rises the moment their humanity shows through—selfishness, fragility, inconsistency. All of these crack the illusion of safety. And when wickedness enters the picture, our sense of well-being can feel threatened to its core.

A person who has “set their sights” on God’s child—especially when their heart is open to Satan’s influence—does not simply forget and move on. There is a dark, persistent mission at work. When the believer is blessed, they secretly long for calamity. When God’s servant stumbles or suffers, they feel a twisted satisfaction. They rejoice over the bad news of someone God loves.

One of the hardest parts of today’s scripture is this: David eventually called some of his former companions “enemies.” Elsewhere in the Psalms, he writes with raw honesty about betrayal from those he once trusted. That kind of wound cuts far deeper than the opposition of a stranger.

And the sobering reality is this: not all wickedness is far from the things of God. It can live under the same roof. It can sit in church pews. It can share our last name. The people closest to us can quietly “have it in” for us. We sense it—even if it never erupts into open hatred. We feel their discomfort with our good news, their private relief when we fail, their subtle delight in our humanness and weakness, and their envy of our gifts. It is the kind of hurt that is hard to forgive because it taunts us in the dark. The enemy loves to run those scenes on repeat in our minds.

Into all of this, God offers Himself as refuge. “Hide me,” becomes our prayer. We hide ourselves in the Word—ultimately, in the living Word, Jesus—and discover that His comfort is enough for every trembling moment.

He understands betrayal from the inside. He received the kiss of Judas and all that came with it. He felt the fickle devotion of the crowd—celebrated with palm branches one day, shouted down with “Crucify Him!” the next. When the ground beneath His feet shook, He slipped away to pray. He went “home” to His Father for stability, strength, and reassurance.

He has already walked the path we are on. And in His footsteps, we find our own way forward: not by denying the pain, not by pretending people cannot wound us, but by anchoring our hearts in the only One who will never change, never betray, never rejoice in our hurt.

When everything else shifts, He remains.

Every word I need, You are.  Amen

 

Little Shepherd and Overseer

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For “you were like sheep going astray,” but now you have returned to the Shepherd and Overseer of your souls.  I Peter 2:25

When an ancient king planned to journey through a desert landscape, the way was prepared beforehand by his advance team.  The road was inspected, repaired where needed, and all that would obstruct his journey was addressed.

Jesus was our advance team.  He came to prepare the way for us to walk the path to His kingdom.  The infant Shepherd who napped in the manger was also the One who made crooked paths straight.

And not only is He the little Shepherd but He is also the little Overseer of our souls.

That means He is the caretaker of our inside world.  He exposes sin and inspires repentance.  He encourages us to examine each crooked place in our hearts so things can be made straight.  He saves us from painful detours.  He cheers us on when we limp. He picks us up when we’re lame.  He helps us when we’re emotionally and spiritually feeble.

We have a deep desire to be known by One who loves us and has earned our trust.  Because we were wired for this divine connection, our souls strain to be under the care of One who sees it all, the good and the bad. We want to belong to the One who can craft an environment where we will thrive.  But there is a caveat ~ we must first give up our lives to Him in surrender.   

You are the perfect Shepherd and perfect Overseer.  I’m going to let you define what is best for me without limiting Your influence.  Amen

When You Remember Moments

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And an angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them. Luke 2:9

The shepherds were doing their ordinary work in the dark, watching sheep on a hillside, when the unmerited favor of God intersected their story, giving them an experience they would carry with them for the rest of their lives. Nothing in their future would ever eclipse the night when the heavens opened, and for a brief moment, the veil over their spiritual sight was drawn back.

Are such defining moments still possible today? Yes. Not because we can demand them, but because the same God still delights to reveal Himself. There are days that become spiritual mountaintops, places that become a personal Bethel. We are not meant to settle into a gray monotony of going through the motions. We treasure yesterday’s manna, but we shouldn’t live on memories alone. We seek Him in His Word, we listen for His Spirit’s whisper, we pursue Him with a steady hunger, and in His timing, often when we least expect it, the glory of the Lord brushes close.

An ordinary day can be turned upside down when the eternal breaks into the ordinary: a conversation, a car ride, a quiet room, a hospital hallway. In a moment, His presence falls and everything changes. Others around you may not notice anything unusual. They may keep scrolling, talking, and rushing. But you will know. Inwardly, you will slip off your shoes because you recognize holy ground.

For a while afterward, you may move through your routines with a kind of spiritual disorientation, caught between this world and the one you just tasted. You will find yourself returning to that moment when you remember the God who came so close.

Lord Jesus, make my heart like those shepherds. I want to be awake in the ordinary, ready to be interrupted by Your glory. Amen

When Glory Invades My World

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And an angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them. Luke 2:9

The shepherds didn’t ask to see the glory of God. They hadn’t done anything to earn the privilege. They certainly didn’t expect it. Yet, God’s favor punctuated their evening and brought an experience they would never forget. Nothing in their lifetimes would eclipse the night on the hillside when heaven opened. Do such miraculous moments still happen today? Sometimes. 

A pastor we knew well suffered an aortic rupture…. something you don’t usually come back from. While clinically dead on the table, he witnessed a battlefield. He saw evil forces and God’s angelic forces engage in a confrontation. When God brought the pastor back from death, he told everyone….. “If you could see what I saw, how outnumbered the enemy was, and how fearsome the angelic warriors were, you would never be afraid of anything ever again!”  I think of his testimony every time I battle fear. 

I know that most of us will not have a near-death encounter and come back to speak of it. But we still witness the glory of God. Sometimes there are angelic visitations. Sometimes Jesus will appear to someone in the night. He bears witness to Himself and brings the most unsuspecting convert to the kingdom. It’s happening all over the world. And what about the times when the heavens open and God’s Spirit brings illumination about a scripture we’ve never understood before! It is cataclysmic to our spirits, is it not? These comprise the ‘Bethel Moments’ that define life in profound ways.

 It is easy to separate the times of scripture from the times in which we live. Sadly, our skepticism can obscure the supernatural appearances of God’s glory. The supernatural is meant to punctuate my life with unforgettable moments. 

My trust in You does not depend on the miraculous, but every miraculous encounter changes me forever. Thank you for every single one! Amen