Galleries

Time is too short for me to tell about Gideon, Barak, Samson, Jephthah,  David, Samuel, and the prophets, who by faith conquered kingdoms, administered justice, obtained promises, shut the mouths of lions, quenched the raging of fire, escaped the edge of the sword, gained strength after being weak, became mighty in battle, and put foreign armies to flight.  Hebrews 11:32-3

It’s easy to assess a weak person as forever weak. They are often pigeonholed from their youth. When considering whom to choose for a position where strength is critical, the weak are usually not considered.   I must remember that the weak are made strong by God.  The degree of their weakness is immaterial.  If they trust God, rise up to obey His mandate, then watch out!

The children of Israel were always outnumbered and yet, with God, their weaknesses were paired with God’s unparalleled strength. Gideon defeated the Midianites with fragile pitchers, pieces of earthen pottery.  Samson slayed 1,000 Philistines with the jawbone of a donkey.  Historically, ill equipped saints were given beyond the natural to enable them to overcome incredible odds in the supernatural. Think of the widow and her son who were on the edge of starvation.  They had a handful of flour and a little oil left to make their last meal. God’s hand touched their meager amount of supplies and there what was little became plentiful.

God’s tactical strategies do not include the assessment of a person’s strengths.  He takes a person who loves Him, trusts Him, and though he may be weak and without resources, God completes what is lacking to make them a supernatural kingdom force.

What battle are you fighting today?  I’m in one myself. The advantage, in the natural realm, is not mine.  I can see that.  It may not be yours either.  Put the equation on paper and a disastrous outcome is sure.  If you live with someone who prizes intellect, a scientific mind who thrives on logic and solid evidence, predictions of gloom will fill your home.  Faith must be fought for.  And fight, we must.  The battle can be against the arguments of faithless children of God. This should not be but it is.

God is for you.  Not against you.  Stand up and expect a miracle.  Put it all on the line.  Offer Him what you have even if it’s far from enough.  I love J.D. Greer’s quote.  Our strength is more of a liability than an asset.  When God wants to use us, He often begins by weakening us.

The most important thing I have in my hands is helpless dependence on You.  Amen

Listen to the LORD who created you, to the One who formed you says, “Do not be afraid, for I have ransomed you. I have called you by name; you are mine.   Isaiah 43:1

Brennan Manning said, “We often feel like the homely peasant girl for whom the king has come to take a bride.” Our sense of self-condemnation often causes us to back away from God’s call to live as His beloved. We feel unworthy. Our pride says that we can’t believe His words. Our understanding of love has been compromised by our experiences with others as we have all felt degraded, excluded, ridiculed, passed over, and a host of other things related to rejection. Memories fester in our souls, and infection grows with time. 

No one gets to define my worth except my Creator. Not a parent, not a caregiver, not a teacher, not a pastor, not a child or spouse. Only God’s opinion matters because His Word trumps all others. He says I’m cherished, and that must be lived out by daily acts of faith.

Many were made to feel unworthy by their parents.  They were never anyone’s priority.  Work came first.  Or other children were preferred.  Perhaps the ministry even trumped their importance. Spouses can also tragically communicate that their mate isn’t worth much, and children often tell their parents, “You’re a bad father or bad mother.”  We tend to absorb their opinions of ourselves.  We rationalize that these are the ones who know us best, so they must have credibility.  No, not if their opinion contradicts God’s opinion.

How do I live cherished in a world where few are cherished?  I believe my Father’s proclamations of love, by faith.  I am no longer to be ruled by the hole in my soul. The story becomes a narrative that I can tell others to extol the Fatherhood of God.  My life is no longer a tragedy.  Though it contains tragic elements, the overriding theme is joyous redemption.  I’m a Daughter of Promise, and every single thing is safely under God’s providence.

It was nearly time for the Jewish Passover celebration, so Jesus went to Jerusalem. In the Temple area he saw merchants selling cattle, sheep, and doves for sacrifices; he also saw dealers at tables exchanging foreign money. Jesus made a whip from some ropes and chased them all out of the Temple.  John 2:13-15

Each of us have things that are almost sacred to us.  We might display them on a wall, under glass, or in a shadow box.  If it’s a document, such as a commendation or award, we might laminate or frame it.  We put important papers in a file folder and wouldn’t think of folding them in half, lest we crease them. And then there’s love letters.  We fasten them with a ribbon and tuck them away somewhere safe because having someone trample on the sacred evokes strong emotions. 

My mother, the year before she died of cancer, made a quilt for Ron and for me.  There was no sewing machine involved.  Every inch of it was hand-stitched.  I often told her that it looked like she used a machine – so precise was her hem stitching.  About ten years ago, I took it out of my cedar chest to discover that there were rips along the corners of more than a few patchwork squares. Years of tugging at it during the night had taken its toll.  I was shaken by it, so the first chance I got, out came my needle and thread. 

If unraveling on my prized quilt could undo me, can you imagine what Jesus felt when he entered the Temple and saw what was happening in His Father’s house? This was the place where atonement was made for sin.  This was the place where the rich and the poor alike could bring their best sacrifice and know that there would be no respecter of persons.  But on this day, everything holy was trampled. 

The priests were crooked, causing people to wonder if God was crooked as well. Sounds familiar, doesn’t it?  The face of God is always marred by crooked religion. God still gets angry when His character is misrepresented. The very people He created, the ones He sacrificed His Son for, will be the ones who don’t trust Him.  For this, Jesus made whips and disrupted commerce.  Woe to the shepherds who cause the sheep to stumble over the God who loves them. 

You fought with us in mind.  And still do.  Amen

The Lord will give you the bread of adversity and the water of affliction, but your Teacher will no longer hide Himself—with your own eyes you will see Him. And whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear this command behind: “This is the way.”   Isaiah 30:20-21

On some future date, far beyond the life of Isaiah, Jesus and his disciples will be in a boat in the middle of the sea.  The opposite shore will be nowhere in sight.  It will be dark, and the sea will be churning.  Uncertainty and fear will overtake them.  Jesus will appear, walking on the water.  He will say, “It’s Me. Don’t be afraid.”  Like a child whose parent shows up to take care of everything, fears will turn to calm.  Pounding heartbeats will normalize.  Adrenalin will subside.  Awe and unworthiness will wash over them as the power of their Savior is made evident.

All of us are navigating our lives.  There’s often no light on our path. Wisdom for the next step is completely elusive. The shore is behind us. Everything familiar is out of sight.  We are in uncharted waters, feeling inadequate.  The sea is churning.  Passages are difficult.  Reaching a distant shore seems impossible.  Fears are intensifying.  Rational thoughts are no longer within reach.  The roar of the waves bombards our senses.  What next?  We cry out to Jesus.

Where is He?  He’s right there in the middle of it, asking to be invited into the boat. “It’s Me.  Don’t be afraid.”   He has not hidden Himself from us.  When sought, He will be found.  Faith reaches out and is rewarded. He alone is our anchor, our deliverer, and our comfort in the waiting.

Never has a voice been as sweet as Yours, heard beneath the noise of my life.   Amen

The one who believes in the Son of God has the testimony in himself; the one who does not believe God has made Him a liar, because he has not believed in the testimony that God has given concerning His Son. I John 5:10

How well did you relate to your earthly father? To the degree it was dysfunctional, there will be levels of impairment when you approach Abba, Father. In my thirties and forties, I had to work through many distortions about God, the Father. My eyeglasses were foggy.

Jesus related to His Father in a way that teaches each of us how to function in the relationship.

• Jesus was completely submissive to His Father. He waited for the timing of His call into ministry. He did not reveal His identity until God nudged Him to disclose it. Jesus surprises us in some of His other choices. He choose to heal only one man at the at pool of Bethesda though many wanted it. The rich young ruler went away from Him sad, embracing unbelief, yet Jesus didn’t go after him. He honored the man’s free will to choose.

Jesus made no autonomous decisions. The Son is able to do nothing of His own accord; but the Son is able to do only what He sees His Father doing. John 5:19

• Jesus destiny of the cross never eroded His trust in His Father.

Did Jesus have memory of His intimacy with the Father? Did He remember the Garden and the fall? Did he feel the urgency of the ages in needing to redeem mankind? Or did God subject his mind and memory to finite time and space? Jesus probably did not have all the details about his coming crucifixion but He knew in part. He had studied Isaiah 53 and other prophetic passages? He probably thought, “This is talking about me. This will all happen to me.”

Jesus was clear that there will be times we stumble over what He asks of us. We shrink back from what seems too much to process. But He did not waver in his destiny.

Submission without stumbling. I see how un-like You I am, still. Forgive me and enable me by the power of Your Spirit. Amen

Jesus answered and said to her, “If you knew the gift of God, and who it is who says to you, “Give me a drink,” you would have asked Him, and He would have given you living water.” John 4:10

How does Jesus relate to someone weighed down with shame? He intentionally seeks them out and moves toward them with honor.

He expects intermittent eye contact. He expects to see someone braced, hidden in fear, expecting contempt instead of love. He invites them to come out of the shadows. He always has. Remember the lengths he went to just to reach one woman? He entered Samaria on a mission. He defied racial lines, gender lines, and moral lines to sit beside a women steeped in shame. He believed she was worth His time.

He did the same for a woman caught in adultery. Her accusers wanted a public stoning. Jesus intervened. He stooped to the ground, fingered the dust, and made room for a very awkward silence. Stones dropped. Mercy stood up and prevailed. He did not ignore, nor deny, her sin, but neither did He deepen her shame. He gave her truth wrapped in honor.

Anyone who struggles with shame will retreat further if I come at them with an air of superiority. They will not be drawn to Jesus if I preach to them from a place above them, trying to fix them before I have loved them. It is love that woos. And it is love that gives me the credibility to move to a place of words.

So who near me is afraid to lift their eyes? Who has already concluded they are unlovable, unworthy, and disqualified from a future? I must ask Jesus for His heart and His wisdom. He will ask me to approach with respect. He may suggest I lower my pace. He may ask me to keep my words to a minimum. Friendship first. Honor first. Building a bridge strong enough to support the truth.

Jesus, make me a place where wounded souls do not feel smaller, but safe. Let Your mercy rule me so that so that I see others through the tenderness of the cross.Amen

To put off your old self, which belongs to your former manner of life and is corrupt through deceitful desires, and to be renewed in the spirit of your minds, and to put on the new self, created after the likeness of God in true righteousness and holiness. Ephesians 4:22-24

Do you remember The Newlywed Game? Couples were asked questions that revealed how well they really knew one another. And, not just facts, but instincts. What will he do in this situation? What would he prefer given these two choices? Etc.

It makes me wonder ~ how well do I really know Jesus? Not just being able to recall the events of His life or the doctrines I affirm, but His ways. His tone. His instincts. The movements of His heart. How did He look at people? What stirred His compassion? What awakened His anger? How did He carry Himself in the presence of weakness, shame, sorrow, and betrayal?

This matters because we become like the One we love. The One that moves our heart the most shapes us. If I worship a Christ I barely know, my transformation will remain vague and shallow. But if I walk with Him slowly enough to really watch Him, sanctification begins to feel less like strain and more like surrender. I put off the old self as I fall in love with the new.

So for the next week, we’ll take a long look at Jesus.

How did He relate to those who lived with shame?
How did He handle the weakness of His disciples?
How did He navigate the relationship with His Father?
How did He face the devil without losing peace?

And what will happen to us as we watch Him?

I do not think we will come away untouched. I think we will love Him more. I think we will be comforted, convicted, and surprised by His beauty. We might even stumble momentarily. But I think we will also see more clearly where we are unlike Him. But that too will be grace.

Jesus, give us grace to stay near enough to You to be changed. Amen

And Isaac said to his father Abraham, “My father!” And he said, “Here I am, my son.” He said, “Behold, the fire and the wood, but where is the lamb for a burnt offering?”  Genesis 22:7

Can you feel this pivotal moment between Isaac and Abraham?  Isaac knows there’s going to be some kind of sacrifice.  The wood is ready, but where is the lamb?   With this question on his mind, he turns to ask his father.  Was it a casual inquiry or was he beginning to probe the unthinkable?

These kinds of moments are awful to live through.  Our gut knows that something is dreadfully wrong and we look to someone wise to tell us that this isn’t what we fear it is.  We feel like a child.  And we are.  We turn to the only wise Father to voice our questions.  Like Abraham, He welcomes us.  He understands our frame.  We are safe to need Him.

To live childlike with Him, even on good days, is to secure a posture that prepares us for the hard moments when we will cry out, “Abba, Daddy!”  We know it won’t feel awkward on our tongues.  With the right theology, it will be instinctive to run home for strength. 

The world says that maturity is becoming independent.  God says that maturity is to become more childlike.  The cynicism and fear that comes with age begs us to move us away from dependence on anyone.  We must intentionally cultivate childlike faith.  Life may seem like it is unraveling but God holds the threads. 

It’s possible, and necessary, to be tethered to the Rock of Ages.  How strong the cords of Love that held us fast! 

I need nothing, and no one, more than I need You, Lord.  Amen