Tag: faith

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

God’s Throne and The One Who Wanted It

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They remembered that God was their Rock, that God Most High was their Redeemer.  Psalm 78:35

One day, when Earth was still a barren planet, a sinister plot was being carried out in heaven.  Satan, one of the three archangels who enjoyed top level authority at God’s right hand, decided that he was entitled to more.  He set out to promote himself.   I will climb to heaven and place my throne above the highest stars. I will sit there with the gods far away in the north. I will be above the clouds, just like [El Elyon] God most high. Isaiah 14:13-14   With this twisted ambition, his gifts were corrupted. 

We must make a distinction between wanting to be like God and wanting to dethrone ‘God most high’ from His place of authority. This was the subject of John Milton’s famous confrontation in Paradise Lost.  It was clear that Satan’s ambition was to overthrow God, not emulate His holiness.

The price for setting oneself equal to ~ or greater than ~ El Elyon is a steep one. It was catastrophic for Satan, who lost his position in heaven, was judged, and then permanently expelled.  His ultimate end will be in hell, the place God created for him and all of the angels who defected with him.  

This kind of pride and entitlement are still rampant.  Satan, the god of this world, is driven to replicate his evil traits.  His children (Jesus called them children of the devil) refuse to bow down.  They are puffed up and exalt themselves as rulers over their own sphere of influence.  When those around them pray to thank God for divine provision, they are quick to say that they’ve made their own way.  Anything they enjoy is the product of hard work and ingenuity.  Know anyone like that?  

God is patient, giving such sinful men time to repent but grace has a time limit.  One day, they will face Jesus and will bow down.  It’s a certainty.  For every person who didn’t do it willingly on earth, their end will be a tragic one.

After this sobering review of Satan’s history, I lift both hands towards heaven, align myself yet again with El Elyon. I lay down pride and ask for the grace to be humble.  I forsake entitlement in favor of trust and gratitude.  I want to be like God most high, following Paul’s encouragement from Ephesians 5:1 Therefore, be imitators of God, as beloved children. 

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

 

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

When Provision Comes Unexpectedly

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He also said, “Bring me the shawl you are wearing and hold it out.” When she did so, he poured into it six measures of barley and put it on her. Then he went back to town. Ruth 3:15

Boaz had always been kind to Ruth, but on this morning his kindness ripened into something more.  Grace overflowing.  Earlier, she gleaned grain because he allowed her to work in his fields. He made sure the harvesters left an abundance behind, but she still had to stoop, gather, labor, and carry. Provision came through effort. But now, at dawn, everything shifted.  He filled her shawl with barley!  It was unearned, unrequested, and no work was necessary.

This did not signal a future free of work or a life without responsibility. It was not an invitation to idleness or entitlement. It was a revelation: Boaz gave both opportunity and grace, and he paints a vivid picture of Christ. We are His beloved, His cherished bride.  Life with Him is both collaborative work and gifts of grace.  It is both obedience and overflow.

• Jesus has the authority to ensure that my path is strewn with grain for the harvesting.  My calling requires me to bend, gather, and labor for His kingdom. Yet even my labor is watched over, guided, and prepared in advance.  As long as I follow His lead, there will be enough.

• As I work, I will also experience unexpected grace, just like Ruth. He can dress the road before me with hidden abundance, placed there long before I arrive. There will be moments when my shawl is suddenly heavy with blessings I did not work for and for favor I did not seek. These gifts are never predictable.

Jesus does not offer a free ride and advocate spiritual laziness. But He is the God who punctuates my obedience with unanticipated goodness.  Grace whispers, “You are Mine, and I am responsible for you.”

I remember when Your provision came out of nowhere.  My hands trembled and my shawl was full. I still am overcome by the memory.  Thank you.  Amen

When It Appears To Fall Apart

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Although it is true that I am near of kin, there is a kinsman-redeemer nearer than I. Ruth 3:12

Just when Ruth’s future began to look secure, a technicality arose that could threaten everything. There was a relative closer to her than Boaz, and he had priority in the process of redemption. What kind of man was he? She was acquainted now with Boaz and knew that he was a man of honor. Her heart had finally settled but with this new development, the temptation to plummet into uncertainty had to be real. 

Often, what I hope for feels close to coming true. It’s within my reach, and I see the welcome changes about to impact my life.  I pinch myself.  “Will this really be mine?” I wonder. But just as I start to believe it is, complications arise and it slips away. Sometimes, the obstacle can be overcome, but not always.

What does God require of me? The same thing God would have asked of Ruth if another redeemer had stepped forward.  Perhaps he would have been a lesser man than Boz.  We are to wrap our arms around the only One who sustains us through these kinds of disappointments. Just as Ruth’s future was held securely in the sovereignty of God, so is mine. 

Some people cross our paths, make promises, and raise our hopes. We start to breathe more easily. Dreams of a different life are about to be realized. But then, it all fades away. The promise-maker becomes a promise-breaker. It’s hard to pray for those who deal treacherously with our hearts. Forgiveness takes time and is always messy. But we can bring every disappointment to Abba’s heart. His tears mingle with ours. He breathes new life into our hopelessness. And then—there is HIS redemption. Always moving. Always for our good. No one can take away our blessing.     

Redeem the ashes of Your servants. Amen

It’s Mine If I Ask For It

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In the middle of the night something startled the man, and he turned and discovered a woman lying at his feet. “Who are you?” he asked. “I am your servant Ruth,” she said. “Spread the corner of your garment over me, since you are a kinsman-redeemer.” Ruth 3:8-9

In Ruth’s world, the gesture of redemption was clear and covenantal. When a man was willing to serve as a go’el (a kinsman-redeemer), he would extend the corner of his cloak over the woman as a sign of protection, provision, and belonging. It was not an act of seduction; it was a request wrapped in humility and courage. She sought to preserve her husband’s lineage, to place herself under the shelter of the one appointed by God’s law to protect her. In that culture, family restored family. God’s statutes were not merely rules; they were channels of mercy.

And yet, human nature being what it is, not every man who fulfilled the law did so with joy. Some obeyed, performing the duty but withholding the grace. The law, meant to lead God’s people into abundant life, could become burdensome in the hands of the ungodly. No doubt, many women found themselves technically covered by obligation but not by kindness.

Generations later, her great-grandson, King David, would echo that same spirit when he wrote, “You, Lord, have been my help; in the shadow of Your wings I sing for joy.” Psalm 63:7

Much later, King David, Ruth’s great-grandson, would write, “You, Lord, have been my help. In the shadow of Your wings I sing for joy.” Psalms 63:7 He knew about redemption and the gracious spirit in which God provided it. David’s words teach me that I can go to my Redeemer at any time without fear of rejection. My own poverty does not repel Him. His love, not law, fuels his love for me. The only barrier is my own hesitation to come.

Jesus, gather the loose threads of my life into Your covering. Heal what time has frayed and redeem what fear has hidden.Amen

What Am I Doing?

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When Boaz had finished eating and drinking and was in good spirits, he went over to lie down at the far end of the grain pile. Ruth approached quietly, uncovered his feet and lay down. Ruth 3:7

Have you ever taken a step of obedience so large that halfway through, you suddenly wondered, What am I doing? How did I get here?  Faith can carry us into landscapes that feel foreign, vast, and strangely quiet — the kind of places where our confidence trembles and our questions grow loud.

We’ll never know if Ruth had these thoughts as she took her place at the foot of Boaz’ sleeping place. Surely she had some level of apprehension. Would he scold her? Would he feel embarrassed by her act of intimacy? Would he send her away, thereby severing any hopes of redemption? Would he lose respect for her? Would he withdraw his offer to allow her to gather grain from his fields? Personally, there was a lot at stake. There always is when we answer God’s call.

We’ll never know if Ruth felt that quake of uncertainty as she approached the threshing floor and lay at the feet of Boaz. Scripture is silent about her inner world that night, but we can imagine the tremor of human apprehension beneath her obedience. Would he misunderstand her? Would he feel exposed, or embarrassed?  Would he interpret her gesture as dishonorable? Would he send her away and dismantle any hope of redemption? Would this singular act undo all the fragile favor she had found in his fields?

Ruth carried far more than barley to that place — she carried the weight of two women’s futures. There is always something at stake when we say yes to God.  Obedience has a way of escorting us beyond the edges of our comfort. Henry Blackaby calls this a “God-sized task.”  It is too much for human strength, too steep for natural skill, too intricate for our own networking or ingenuity. No wonder it intimidates us. God-sized assignments press on nerves we do not possess and require capacities we have not yet developed. They compel us to put our radical trust in God.

I once insisted I was unqualified to lead a ministry. I told God I wasn’t leadership material. I felt small under the shadow of others’ opinions. I had no vocabulary for the woman I would become when loved into wholeness. I was certain God had chosen the wrong person. But now I see that He wasn’t looking for the most polished leader.  He was looking for someone willing, someone who would trust His shaping hand more than her own limitations.  And across the decades, Scripture has whispered this assurance.   “The One who calls you is faithful, and He will do it.” 1 Thess. 5:24

Father, nothing is hidden from Your sight.  Not the obstacles, not the timing, not the weight of what You’ve asked. Guide me with Your wisdom and anchor my courage in Your faithfulness.
Amen