Going Sane in a Crazy World: Some Musings about Rest from a Weary Pilgrim

 Several years ago, I was asked to preach for a local congregation. The following sermon came about when God changed my topic. I was working on a sermon on worship, but Matthew 11 had lodged in my mind and heart for a couple of weeks, and I kept hearing "Come to me all who are weary, and I will give you rest."  I needed that rest, so I went back to Psalm 46 and tried to connect it to Matthew 11. My notes are below, but they aren't exactly like the sermon.  I hope it blesses you!

 

"Going Sane in a Crazy World"

Psalm 46  Matthew 11:28-30

Introduction

The Tick and Arthur--During a particular time of battle, Arthur cries out "I think I'm going crazy!" The Tick replies: “You aren’t going crazy chum, you’re going sane in a crazy world!”

We live in a crazy world, to say the least

Economic issues

Crazy political situations

Disease and other crises

Wars and rumors of wars

Stress is everywhere! And it shows. It shows in our bodies — in our relationships — including our relationship with God.

It's hard to find time for intimacy, because intimacy takes time.

Time is a commodity we wish we could buy, and if we could, we would probably use it simply to buy peace, quiet, leisure—to do some things we long to do and not have to do them in such a rush. Just having time to think and to have the right atmosphere for thinking would be nice, wouldn't it?

There will always be tension to life. But it needs to be a healthy, creative tension, not life-sapping stress. Marriages, families, and personal lives are falling apart as stressed-out people run away, withdraw, explode, crash, burn out—and eventually find themselves very much alone.

A major cause for our stress is that we often react rather than act. We're all moving so quickly that we don't stop and consider our future. What will it demand of us? What will it cost? Are we willing to pay the price?

We simply move. We react to the immediate. 

I know it's an area where I really battle. I want to do everything. So I react in the moment. I say yes when I should say no — forgetting that my time is already allotted to other things. We react in a response of the flesh instead of acting under the Holy Spirit's control.

God knows our pressures and our conflicts, he knows the issues with which we are dealing. And He has made provision for each and every one of them. And that provision is Himself.  He is our Refuge and our Rest.

Psalm 46 offers one perspective on Rest. The information in the Psalm, however, is framed by two ideas: The Frame is God’s Presence (v. 1) and our Position (v. 10). The information between these verses can be summarized in three basic points: 

1) When God seems silent, be still and know his presence (Jesus says "Come to me")

2) When the world turns against us, be still and know his power (Jesus says, "Take my yoke, learn from me")

3) When things get hectic, be still and know God (his yoke is easy and his burden is light)

In sum, the Psalmist reminds us that "Going Sane means to Rest" (Matthew 11:28-30)

When God Seems Silent: Come to Jesus

Psalm 46:1-3

When life goes crazy, where is sanity?  Where is rest?  Where is God?

In what way is God a refuge when life is in tatters?

C. S. Lewis—A Grief Observed

“Where is God? When you are happy, so happy that you have no sense of needing Him, so happy that you are tempted to feel His claims upon you as an interruption, if you remember yourself and turn to Him with gratitude and praise, you will be--or so it feels--welcomed with open arms. But to go to Him when your need is desperate, when all other help is vain, and what do you find? A door slammed in your face, and a sound of bolting and double bolting on the inside. After that, silence. You may as well turn away. The longer you wait, the more emphatic the silence will become. . . . What can this mean? Why is God so present a commander in our time of prosperity and so very absent a help in times of trouble?”

God’s presence has not changed, yet in times of trouble we often seem to be unable to access it. In those times, God seems distant, or at least a bit unconcerned (in our minds). When our world is shattered, where is the glue to hold us together?

The Psalmist admonishes us to "Be still and know God's presence."

In Matthew 11:28, Jesus commands us to come to him. Who should come? 

All who are weary or heavy burdened;

All who think that their lives are over;

All who think God has turned his back on them;

All who face the awful silence of others (and perhaps even God).

If we come, Jesus offers a promise, and that promise is to give us rest.

He doesn’t promise results.

He doesn’t even promise a “word from God.”

He promises “rest”--Rest is a relief from hardship, pain, distress, and turmoil. Rest is the presence of Christ in hard times.

Come to him and find rest.

Col. 1:15-17:  Jesus is the glue that holds reality together.

The Psalmist calls us to put our trust in God who holds all things together. The words “refuge” and “strength” speak of God’s security and power.

Our security is not in the ground beneath our feet, it can easily be removed by an earthquake, storm, or disaster. God is our ultimate unshakeable reality  and the greatest power of all. Just because I don’t see the sun that doesn’t mean it ceases to exist. In fact, sometimes the shadow proves the sunshine. Where there is shadow, there is bound to be light!

When life gets hard, we need to stand still, to desist, to stop striving and to dwell on his presence. We need to enter into Jesus’ rest.

Remember, if God is omnipresent, he has gone nowhere. Since he is already here, we need to learn to be quiet, and listen.

Psalm 91:7 Be still and know his presence

When the World Turns Against Us: We Take His Yoke

Psalm 46:4-7:  God is with his beloved.

2 Corinthians 4:7-10—Jars of Clay

We are not exempt from hardships, difficulties, and bad emotions, but we are more than survivors (Romans 8:31-39; especially v. 37). We may be shaken, but we cannot be destroyed.

The power by which we live and by which Jerusalem is sustained is the power of God.

When things go south, we must learn NOT to rely on our abilities

Our power MUST come from a higher source.

God is There, and He is Able.

Be still and know his power

In Matthew 11:29-30, Jesus gives two more commands:  “Take my yoke” and “learn from me.”

Jesus doesn’t think that rest is necessarily sitting still. This is a work in progress, it is still work. Yoke is what oxen wore. You often put an untrained ox with an older ox in order to help it learn. The yokes were specifically fit to the oxen.

So it is with us, Jesus prepares us for the work he has in this world by fitting our yoke just to us, joining us in the yoke, and teaching us how to work—That is Rest! Rest is doing what Jesus asks us to do in the situation Jesus has placed us. 

Jesus’ humility and gentleness in teaching us gives us rest.

As we learn to rely on the humble Christ, we find rest. We can rest in his yoke and rely on his power.

When Things Get Hectic: His Yoke is Easy

Psalm 46:8-11

God's Word to us when we're on the ragged edge of reality:  Be Still, Desist, Cease striving, Stop Struggling, Rest.

Psalm 46:10 says to "Be still," which may mean “rest.” It means to "let your arms down to your side"—to be vulnerable to God.

God also says to "know that I am God." He calls for a cognitive and a personal response.

We cease striving not because we know how it's going to work out, but because we know the God who will work it out.

C. S. Lewis, A Grief Observed (continued)

"I have gradually been coming to feel that the door is no longer shut and bolted. Was it my own frantic need that slammed it in my face? The time when nothing at all in your soul except a cry for help may be just the time when God can’t give it; you are like the drowning man who can’t be helped because he clutches and grabs. Perhaps your own reiterated cries deafen you to the voice you hoped to hear." 

Come to the Jesus, whose humility led him to die for you. Wear his yoke, do only his work. Find your rest in obedience to his call. 

Do not look around at what everyone else is doing (This is Peter’s reaction at the end of John's Gospel).

Keep his easy yoke and light burden as your protection.

Only do those things God has placed on the yoke you share with Jesus. Remember, he gives rest while he helps bear our load.

All kinds of things may be going wrong, but God remains stable, strong,  and constant.

He is constant, he is there, he is not silent, he has not moved, he is not caught off guard. 

To know him is to know security even in the most hectic crisis; to know him requires time and stillness. 

We must sit with him, spend time with him, learn from him.

We need time with our Father.

We need to unravel, to experience Selah.

His presence is ours, our position is to be still with him.

Be still and know him

Now What?

So, life is going crazy. How do we go sane in a crazy world? 

How can we find firmness when things seem unsound?

We must begin with a proper focus: Whatever consumes our attention soon overwhelms our senses and colors our perspective. Instead of being consumed by the problem, we should turn our face to the Lord. We must schedule time with God.

We must stand still on God’s firmness and stability. We must learn to quit striving, to cease kicking, to be still and to be vulnerable to what God may be doing. We must embrace God as our sole refuge, as our primary source of satisfaction. We must find ways to create a space of peace in our hectic schedule--take time to sit still.

When the bottom falls out, when God seems silent, when the world turns against you, when things get hectic: 

Be still, and know God’s power, presence, and person. And you’ll find that he is a genuine refuge in time of trouble.

Thanks for reading!  

Christians and Government: Ratio Christi at Liberty

Hello all:

On Tuesday, October 27, 2020, I was honored to participate in a panel discussion on the topic of "Christians and Government" hosted by Ratio Christi at Liberty University. We had a lively conversation that lasted around 1.5 hours, and you may watch a recording of it here:

Christians and Government Recording

Thanks for watching! 

A Burnt Offering: What it means to Burn

 Today I was reading through some old posts, and I came across one from a few years ago that caused me to stop and to think. I wrote this note as I was preparing to teach on the book of Hebrews at Liberty, and the thoughts below strike me as especially helpful during these days. As we consider all the good things and blessings we have received, let us also think of ways we can show our gratitude by giving back. Let us strive to be like Jesus and to serve humbly those around us. What do we need to put on the altar today to let God consume? Where do I need the fire of God in my life? I hope this repeat blesses you!

As I sit here in my comfortable home reading the book of Hebrews in the New Testament, I am listening to Caedmon's Call (the first album). I am struck by the honesty and character of the lyrics. The interesting mixture of the admonitions of Hebrews with the alternative/folk feel of Caedmon's Call has put me in quite the introspective mood. Before I go any further, then, I want to quote for you the song "Coming Home," written by Aaron Tate and copyrighted by Cumbee Road Music in 1994. Here ya go!

You say you want a living sacrifice
Well here I am a burnt offering
Crawling off the altar
And back into the fire

And with my smoke-filled lungs
I cry out for freedom
While locking and chaining myself
To my rotting desires

And I hate the stench
But I swallow the key
And with it stuck in my throat
Can you hear me
Can you hear me

(Chorus)
I'm coming home. I'm coming home.
I'm coming home. I'm coming home.
But I'm still a long way off

I am shell shocked and I have walked
Through the trenches full of tears
With the mortars of memory
Exploding in my burning ears

You've stripped the trees of Lebanon
And now you're stripping me
Of the bark of false morality
The bite of selfish greed
Lord, can you hear me

(Chorus)
I'm coming home. I'm coming home.
I'm coming home. I'm coming home.
But I'm still a long way off

Will you run to me
Will you come to me
Will you meet me
Will you greet me
Will you drag me home
Cause I'm still a long way off

(Chorus)
I'm coming home. I'm coming home.
I'm coming home. I'm coming home.
But I'm still a long way off

I guess the reason that this song struck me today is the imagery of fire. Fire plays a big role in the letter to the Hebrews.

God is depicted as a burning fire.

There is a bit of discussion about the altar and sacrifices aflame.

Even Christ is depicted as a type of burnt offering offered on our behalf outside of the city--the same place where the author of Hebrews wants us to join Christ so that we can endure the abuse that he suffered.

Why? Because our God is a consuming fire.

What does fire consume? It consumes anything that is not like it. God will also consume those things in us that do not correspond to his character. That is why we are admonished to "Strive for peace with all people, and for the holiness without which no one will see God."

The song above reminds me of these things. We are on an altar whether we like it or not. We are either on the altar of God (allowing our non-God aspects to be burnt away and changed into his likeness), or we are on the altar of our own selfishness (burning away with our own deceit and sinful wishes). Like Aaron Tate points out, we crawl off the altar of God into the fire itself. We cry out for freedom while chaining ourselves to our own rotting and despicable desires.

We are on fire. We are burning.

What are we burning and why are we burning?

Many of us burn for all the wrong reasons--we are aflame with our own passions and desires, pursuing things that not only will not satisfy, but that will scar us forever if we continue to make ourselves a sacrifice to stuff. We look for stuff to fill the hole in the seat of our beings, we strive to come to wholeness through means that will not make us whole--we try to make ourselves something we are not, we try to obtain possessions that we do not need, we spend and are spent pursuing more stuff that not only clog our homes but clog our spiritual and physical veins and keep us from living our lives as God intended.

We can also burn for the right reasons--we can give ourselves over to a life of sacrifice or selfless living that puts the needs of others before our own desires and wishes. We may be aflame with a love that desires the best of God's blessings for our neighbors. We burn in God's presence so that we may lose anything that is not of God and gain Christ as "all that is really important." It is not an easy place to be, being consumed until only God is left. Nonetheless, such a place is necessary if we are to live a life abundant.

Let us come to God's consuming fire to be purified, to receive the delicious grace of God in Christ, to find all our rotting desires removed and transformed. If not, we are merely burning on our own waste.

Hebrews 10:31, 39
"It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God. . . . But we are not of those who shrink back and are destroyed, but of those who have faith and keep their souls."

Thanks for reading!

Musings about Light and Darkness and the Importance of Pressing On

Sometimes I find myself thinking: "I failed, I blew it, I just never get it right . . ." sometimes it seems like I can't get it right even if I try. It is a recurring and almost living nightmare. Yes, it hurts to let others down, and nobody wants to feel like a failure. Here's some truth I'm trying to learn: The shadow proves the sunshine. The shadow is evidence of light shining, and that is true for each of us. Life doesn't always go the way we hope, and sometimes we get the distinct impression it is all our fault. I don't have magic words to fix the problem, but I am aware that there is a Light. We need to move from darkness to Light, but sometimes it is hard. Know this, you are not alone here, and the shadow being cast points to the existence of that Light. Head towards the Light, let him be your guide and help. Take it in your stride . . . further up and further in.

Or maybe we think: "Sometimes I feel invincible, but sometimes I feel invisible." Take this as a word of encouragement. You are known and noticed. I know people don't say it often enough, and I know it isn't always obvious. Nonetheless, we see you. You feel invisible, but your presence often encourages the rest of us. We see how you handle hard times, we see how you care for others, and we see your struggle complete with victories and sometimes defeat. Nonetheless, we see you. We see you get up again, and we derive hope. "If that person can do it, so can I" we think in our sometimes overstimulated and worn out minds. Your willingness to get up, to continue, to "fight the good fight" causes courage and hope to rise up in many of us. And we are grateful. You are not invisible, but you are a hero to many of us.

As we press on to the Light, may we find encouragement in the fact that Jesus is the pioneer of our faith, he is the one paving our way forward. Yes, times may be hard and darkness may seem to win, but the Truth will win in the end. Please remember this--obedience to Jesus is success. Your obedience even in the hard times is a blessing to others. Thank you, and keep moving forward. Head to the Light, Jesus is there and you'll find your rest with him one day. Mourning last for the night, but joy comes in the morning. Let's keep moving forward to joy and rest. 

Thanks for reading! 

God in Gethsemane: Where is God in Traumatic Times?

Can we worship the same God and have different views of political or other responses to traumatic situations in society? I hope the answer is "Yes," to be honest. Does that mean that the person who will not join in protesting some issue is less Christian, or that the person who will not join in a certain event worships a "smaller god"? I feel the need to quote J. B. Phillips: "Your God is too small." As Paul reminds us in Romans, God is the God of the Jews and the Gentiles too. He can be God of liberals and conservatives, Republicans and Democrats, protesters and singers, men and women, etc.

We want God to fit the narrow confines of our personal preferences for him . . .  we want him to sit in the corner until we need him. But that is not the God of the Bible: He hears the oppressed cry out and sends an amazing deliverance that ruins Egypt; he sees a woman struggling with life and relationships and sits by a well to talk theology with her; he sees an educated man curious about God's ways and astounds him with ideas he may not have thought before; he meets a shepherd in a bush that burns but isn't destroyed; he meets a persecutor/oppressor on the road with a brilliant light and vision; he comes to scared people at dinner and speaks peace to them; or he naps on a boat assailed by a storm and when awakened cares for the needs of the alarmed sailors.

He is the God who suffers . . . he is not so aloof as to fail to understand our suffering. No matter how dark our Gethsemane, the Light of the world is there. He suffered outside the city, alone, forgotten, with a sense of utter abandonment . . . and he knows. He knows we are weary, he knows we are "fed up," he knows we are lower than we have ever been. . . and he cares. Weeping may last for the night, but joy comes in the morning. May the God of peace soon crush Satan beneath our feet . . . 

Thanks for reading! 

Where is Light in Dark Times? He is There . . .

 I get it, sometimes the weight of it all seems a bit overbearing. . . sometimes you feel invisible . . . and other times you just wish you could disappear. Depression and trauma can be a bit like that, a sense that things aren't quite right accompanied by a sincere desire to make it all just "go away." 

You smile because you know others may expect that . . . you say "fine" when asked "How are you?" simply because you don't want to "burden" someone with your problems. Like Elijah, you find a nice place to hide and to spend time perhaps licking or binding your wounds. 

Yes, it is hard. No one denies that who has ever been there . . . but remember the end of the Elijah story . . . God is there in that darkness, in that damp cave, in that down time, in that overbearing wish that it would all just be "okay" (whatever "okay" means!). Yes, the God who suffers is there. Even (perhaps "especially") there in that dark place . . .

No matter how dark your Gethsemane, the Light of the world is there too. Jesus suffered outside the city, alone, forgotten, with a sense of utter abandonment . . . and he knows. He knows you are weary, he knows you are "fed up," he knows you are lower than you think you've ever been. . . and he cares. So do I. One step at a time, weary pilgrim, and you'll be home before you know it. Weeping may last for the night, but joy comes in the morning. I get it, but more importantly, God gets it too. May the God of peace soon crush Satan beneath our feet . . .  

Thank you for reading! 

Podcast: Christian Reflections on the Coronavirus Quarantine

Recenlty I had the honor of participating in a panel discussion on the topic "Christian Reflections on the Coronavirus Quarantine." The video is a little over one hour, but you are welcome to watch it if you'd like. Please feel free to leave a comment as well. Thank you!

I hope this discussion blesses or encourages you!

Christian Reflections on the Coronavirus Quarantine

Thanks for reading!

Annual Easter Post: What Did We Expect?

A few years ago I wrote the note below as I contemplated the days leading up to Easter Sunday. As I read the note earlier today, I thought it might be worth posting again. I hope it is a blessing to you!

The week before Easter is commonly called "Holy Week" by Christians. During this week we celebrate (is that the right word?) the last week of Jesus' life on earth. People sometimes make pilgrimages to Israel and retrace Jesus' final steps, they may pause at the "rock of agony" and cry where Jesus cried out to God in Gethsemane, they may go to the pit where Jesus was interrogated, they could pause where Jesus supposedly stumbled under the load of his cross, they could visit and contemplate Golgotha, they may visit the empty tomb, and they will most likely weep and cry and mourn.

Rightfully so . . . this was THE WEEK for which Jesus lived his entire human life, and it was a rough one for him. On Sunday before his crucifixion he entered Jerusalem with cheers ringing in his ears. The (usually fickle) populace embraced him for all the great miracles he performed, and they hailed his coming as though a conquering warrior had entered the city. Like paparazzi following a Hollywood star, they trailed behind this carpenter from Nazareth and looked for ways to become part of his entourage or to at least get a "piece of the action" as Jesus came to town.

Some of these same folks will probably yell "Crucify him!" in just a few days, by the way.

When Jesus offered them something tangible to grab, they wanted to be a team player, they wanted the fishes and loaves, the healings, the wonders, the mighty signs.

How soon their tune would change . . . how quickly they would turn on the one who was innocent of any sin except the failure to live up to THEIR expectations.

How like them we are today . . .

When things are going our way, we look to heaven and sing God's praises. We celebrate and sing and run to join the band as God rides triumphantly over all our "enemies." But as soon as Jesus fails to live up to OUR expectations, what do we do?

I know the spiritual answer--"though he slay me yet I will praise him."

Do we really? Will we? Will I?

I'm struck with how Jesus routinely challenged the popular expectations of the crowds who showed up hoping for another demonstration of heavenly power and flash. In John 12, just after the people have celebrated his "triumphal entry," Jesus tells them that the way to jump on his bandwagon is for his followers to hate their lives in this world. Just think how that must have sounded to the celebrants rejoicing in the coming of their conquering hero!

"You want to be a part of my movement, a part of my thing?" Jesus asks, "Then you will have to regard your life in this world as a dead man would. You have to become the least, the slave, the dead one, in order to get in on my movement."

Come and die.

What an invitation!

Of course, Jesus knew that in just six days he would literally fulfill that invitation. The innocent would die for the unquestionably guilty . . . and he would die horribly.

I can just imagine how this conversation must have put a damper on the celebration in Jerusalem. Jesus took a party and turned it into a wake. The next thing we know he is engaged in theological discussions with the people and with the Jewish leaders. He created a controversy that caused folks to take sides. All he had to do was accept the adulation and promise to "win the war that must be won," but Jesus decided to go against expectations again. He decided to allow God to get the glory through humility and death.

Hasn't this happened to us? Just when we think we have God's agenda all spelled out like it ought to be, He throws us a curve ball that reminds us we aren't in charge! We have a hard time "boxing Jesus" into a neat package.

What's the point then? The point is that we should reverse the procedure. Instead of putting expectations on God, we should look for HIS expectations for us. What has He required of us? What does He want? How should we respond to His voice?

The week of Easter we celebrate the death and resurrection of Jesus. In the process maybe we should participate in a funeral of our own. Maybe we should let die our selfish expectations about how God "ought" to act towards us. Bury them, and let God resurrect them in His image.

As we contemplate the price of our salvation, let us willingly become slaves to the one who has paid such a price to purchase our freedom. Like Jesus, let our prayer be "Father glorify your name." Remember, if a grain of wheat falls into the ground and dies, it will yield much fruit. It is, however, pretty useless in a bag with other seeds. Let's allow God to plant us where he wants so that our service can produce fruit for his glory. Let's follow our crucified Lord by living cruciform lives.

What would the world look like if we did?

I'd really like to find out!

Thanks for reading!

The Long Winding Road to Emmaus: Retold for Contemporary Pilgrims

“O Lord my God, when the storm is loud, and the night is dark, and the soul is sad, and the heart oppressed; then, as a weary traveler, may I look to you; and beholding the light of your love, may it bear me on, until I learn to sing your song in the night. Amen.” From Little Book of Prayers by George Dawson.

Job 13:15a "Though He slay me, I will hope in Him." (NASU)

Luke 24:21 "But we were hoping that it was He who was going to redeem Israel. Indeed, besides all this, it is the third day since these things happened." (NASU)

Sometimes in the midst of the trials and burdens of life, we lose sight of our anchor. We feel tossed and thrown as on a wild and restless sea. Our emotions tell us that things will never be good, all will be despair and loss. Our hope seems shipwrecked, our desire to go on in life sinks into depression. We see nothing good, only evil all around us. Our enemies (both physical and spiritual) seem to have the upper hand, they seem to be winning the day. Things are just not working out the way we expected! The victory we felt sure would come has not yet manifested itself, and we feel ourselves sinking ever deeper into a pit in which we cannot get the proper traction to climb. The clock is ticking down, our hope is gone, our day is over, and Christ has not come.

Like the disciples on the road to Emmaus in Luke 24, we had hoped that Jesus would be the one who would rescue us. We had fervently prayed that maybe, just maybe, today would be the day when we would “live happily ever after” and find our dreams coming true. We shake our heads and go out for a walk. Maybe some fresh air and a quick walk will clear out the cob webs in our minds. Still, the topic of our recent failure hangs like a cloud over our heads, raining down doubt and fear.

We chat quietly together, commiserating a bit in our sorrow, in our recent loss. We try to remember all the "good reasons" we came to this time--like the first time we heard the story of Jesus, or the first time we met him, or even when we experienced firsthand some of his mighty works. Still, sorrow clings to our soul like a wet coat in a sudden thunderstorm. We can't get rid of the sense of sadness, it is drenched on us and sticks to our bodies. We wonder why we even brought the subject up and continue to make our journey in silence. Maybe time alone with our thoughts will help.

Suddenly, a stranger approaches. He seems rather ignorant of our experiences, and besides that he has a fairly sunny disposition. He is definitely someone we want to avoid at this moment. No pie in the sky false hope will satisfy us. We fear that he will say something like, “Cheer up! Keep a stiff upper lip! Things will work out in the end!” We try to avoid the stranger, yet he resolutely comes our direction. He seems determined to interrupt our brooding, our despair. He is on a mission, and we seem to be his primary targets. We try to ignore him, but then he speaks.

“So, what’s going on? Why the sad face?” he inquires. Out of pure human kindness we try to explain our pain in as brief a manner as possible. We do not want to burden strangers with our “little” concerns, after all. The stranger hears our story and stands tall. Looking at us he says boldly, “Foolish ones, slow of heart to believe what God has said!”

The force of his accusation causes us to stumble in our walk. How dare this stranger tell us our business? How dare he interject his thoughts into our moment of pain, our sorrow? Just who does he think he is to interrupt our musings with his “pollyanna” announcement? We look at him with disdain and think that he likely has nothing of real value to offer.

Then, he begins to speak to us again. Starting with the beginning of our story and bringing us pretty much up to date he tells us things we knew but somehow in our anguish had forgotten. As he speaks, our hearts get a bit lighter. We can literally feel a burning inside that slowly (painfully slowly) begins to purify our thoughts and hearts. His words seem to dry the wet sorrow drenching us. Like sunshine after a thunderstorm, we begin to feel a bit of relief. Spring may yet come! We even feel encouraged (a little at least) .

We invite the stranger to eat with us, and he offers to say grace. As he prays, we realize his true identity. He is Jesus, our Lord, the one who was beaten brutally, was painfully crucified, who died with the full weight of our sin upon his broken and bruised body. He has been there all along, listening to us, sympathizing (or is it empathizing?) with our pain and anguish. He has been waiting to comfort us with his presence. He loves us in this way, even when he seems silent.

We beg him to stay. Oh, the situations of our life haven’t changed dramatically. We still have problems, and those problems seem just as depressing and burdensome as before. The difference is that we have Jesus in the house, and the light of his love gives us courage to press on, he becomes an anchor for our souls. Why? Simply stated—“Nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.” Through him and his love we may not have better situations or circumstances, but we can still be “more than conquerors through him who loved us” in the trials we share as his joint heirs. How? Talk to him. Let him talk. Trust his character. He is faithful even when we are faithless. We genuinely matter to him.

He longs to say to you "Keep pressing on, I have not forsaken you. I love you."

As we walk our soggy paths of life, we should pause and wait for the Lord. Let him catch up to us in our musings. Listen to his words (even the ones that gently rebuke). Get in his presence, let him pray for us  and with us. Let his words and actions encourage and empower. Remember, he walks with us whether we acknowledge him or not. Why not sit in his presence for a minute and acknowledge his concern for us?

Thanks for reading!

A Love Louder than Fear: 1 John 4:16-21

Hello all:

 Years ago I preached a series on 1 John entitled "Theology Matters." This lesson looks at 1 John 4:16b-21 and discusses the idea that Christians need to live in and live out the love of God, a love that is louder than fear. In an age where fear seems to be the main emotion exhibiting itself in our culture, I thought sharing the notes from this sermon may help some folks. In this sermon I describe a love that manifests itself in three aspects: it is confident, it is mature, and it is honest. As we grow in and learn to live out of this love, Christians will find themselves loving God and others in the way that Jesus did. In fact, they will find that their relationships may be less characterized by fear and more characterized by the presence and love of God. When we love others, we give a living example of the love Jesus showed in the cross. In this time of anxiety and fear, we certainly could use a lover louder than fear! I hope this sermon blesses you.

A Love Louder than Fear
1 John 4:16b-21
Theology Matters Series

Introduction
When I was a kid, I had a few fears:
1) I was afraid of the dark
2) I was afraid of death
3) I was even afraid of not being perfect enough

People all across this city and country and world are afraid.
They struggle with fear of acceptance among others:
1) Fear of strangers
2) Fear of being disease/death
3) Fear of being alone or being rejected

Many of you have probably experience similar fears lately. 

The singer Pink made a comment years ago: “Love is louder than fear.”
She was speaking of the fear that some in the homosexual community feel.
She was speaking out against the actions of bullies, but she could have been speaking of the fear many face today in light of our current societal issues too.

In our passage today, John offers a continuation of his message about God’s love for us.
He describes for us a love that will cast out fear, a love that will outgrow and work through fear and find itself in a place of peace.

John describes a love that is louder than fear, and that love exhibits three characteristics: 1) it is Mature, 2) it is confident, and 3) it is honest.

Love that is louder than fear is found only in Messiah Jesus. Read 1 John 4:16b-21.

1. This Love is Mature

1 John 4:16b-17a—John reminds his readers that God is love; abiding in that love is abiding in God; and this abiding is revealed in a process of growth.

“Abiding” means to take up residence, to camp, to dwell in—it means to take up habitat and to live there—it is a process and an ongoing action.

In 1 John 4:8, the statement that “God is love” is a reference to God’s character.

God’s character is revealed in God’s acts.
God loved us (and the world) by giving Jesus as our atoning sacrifice.
God’s love is expressed in what he gives.

The idea is that a Christ follower is changed by the love of God and begins to live a life defined by that love (cf. Gal. 2:20)—Love grows and matures.

If God’s love and God’s Spirit dwell in us, then how we live our lives should exhibit that divine presence.

God’s love changes things, and that is the love that John wants to see “perfected” in us.

The word “perfected” in verse 17 carries the idea of “mature” or “complete”.
John is not necessarily referring to the idea of “flawlessness”.
Certainly God’s love is flawless/perfect, but the love that God works in and through us progresses and grows.

John indicates here that love must grow in us.
As we abide in God and his love, his love works in and through us.
As we grow in our relationship with God, our ability to love should grow as well.

This kind of growth and maturity takes dedication (see Romans 12:1-2; 2 Peter 3:11, 17-18). Think of a musician or an athlete: Practice makes perfect—the more we do something, the more we grow in our ability to do it.

We must practice love if we hope to be mature in love. This means we must spend time with the objects of our love. We must spend time loving God, and we must spend time loving others. 

What does this look like? What does love for God and neighbor look like when we live it out practically? How can we show our love for God and others today?

Love that is louder than fear is mature—it takes time to grow.
It matures/grows in us as we practice it.
It matures/grows us as we live in it, and with maturity comes a confidence that empowers.  

2. This Love is Confident

1 John 4:17b-19—speaks of the confidence that we can have in our relationship with Messiah Jesus and the assurance that we are children of God (3:1) as we experience change in our hearts and lives through God abiding and living within us (4:16). (Thanks to Ray Bentley for this idea)

In this passage John introduces two new words—fear and punishment/torment.
Remember, these words are written to believers. John is trying to convey some message to those of us who are Christ followers.

The idea of “fear” and “torment” here speaks of an eschatological event—the day of judgment—but the words have specific meanings. Matthew 25:46 mentions this torment, punishment, or correction as the state of unbelievers eternally. The words used here are typically related to slaves and servants—these are people who live in fear of torment or punishment. Sons and daughters do not relate to their Father in that way—they have reverence or respect for their parents, and they experience discipline but not torment. John is saying that as children of God we have no reason to fear as slaves fear, rather because of God’s love we can have confidence.

“Confidence” here means “boldness” or “freedom of speech”.

When we live in fear, we are not mature in love and we lose confidence.

Many Christians live in fear of being known or of being exposed.
a. We fear being transparent or vulnerable because we think that no one can accept us as we “really” are.
b. Some folks live in fear because of something in their past that haunts them, or something in their present that upsets them, or something in their future by which they feel threatened (Warren Wiersbe).
c. When we live in that fear, we are not walking in God’s love—we are not maturing in love. God's love gives confidence, and that confidence bring honest transparency.

As we grow/mature in love, we should find fear losing ground.
Think of the mother of a sick child—she is not afraid of the sickness, her love simply drives her to one end—the care and cure of her child. She will hold that child and care for that child in spite of the danger of sickness. She loves, and so she seeks the cure and comfort of her beloved.

As we grow in God’s love, we quickly realize that this love is secure and safe.
If God loved us when we were his enemies (Romans 5:6-10), then how more will he love us now that we are his children?
God loves us as we are and accepts us (even in our weaknesses)—that is the source of our confidence.
Romans 8:36-39—Nothing separates us from God’s love.

As we are connected to the Light of Life, that Life drives out our fear.

The story of Dietrich Bonhoeffer from the movie on his life (Bruce Goettsche):

Bonhoeffer tries to pray for a fellow inmate who claims that he does not believe in God. Bonhoeffer encourages him to place his hands on the cell wall as he is doing, and then Bonhoeffer prays, ""Lord, it's dark in me; in you is day. I am alone, but you will stay. I am afraid; you never cease. I am at war; in you is peace." The man in the other cell slowly places his hands on the wall. Bonhoeffer's confidence flowed from God's light of love in his horrible situation, and that confidence produced a sense of peace in his fellow inmate. This is the love to which we are called! Does our love create confidence and peace in others? Does God's love in us create confidence even in the darkest situations? John thinks it should. 

Remember John 3:16-21

God loves us in ways that we cannot even imagine.
He loved us enough to send Jesus, his only Son, the only unique child of God, to die for us. He gave us the best he had for the worst in us!
He loves as he loves Jesus.
That love is the love he wants for and in us.

In his Gospel account (John 3:16-21), John reminds us that God loves even those who reject him—in these verses he reminds us that judgment comes by rejecting God’s Light/Love.

When we choose to hide our works, we are living in the darkness.
When we hide our deeds for fear of exposure, we are not walking in the light. When we bring our deeds to the light, Satan is disarmed.

When we bring our deeds to the light, we are learning to bask in God’s love, and that requires effort on our part. Even our fears will dissipate if we bring them into the brilliant light of God's love! He gave us his best, and that best will shine God's bright Light into our darkest fear or situation.

But this kind of love requires transparency and honesty.
"There is a beautiful transparency to honest disciples who never wear a false face and do not pretend to be anything but who they are." Brennan Manning
“Honesty and transparency make you vulnerable.” Mother Teresa

Love that is louder than fear is confident before God and others, and that confidence leads to an honest life of transparency.

Warren Wiersbe: “The perfecting of God’s love in our lives is usually a matter of several stages. When we were lost, we lived in fear and knew nothing of God’s love. After we trusted Christ, we found a perplexing mixture of both fear and love in our hearts. But as we grew in fellowship with the Father, gradually the fear vanished and our hearts were controlled by his love alone. . . . A growing confidence in the presence of God is one of the first evidences that our love for God is maturing.” Bible Exposition Commentary, Vol. 2, p. 522

3. This Love is Honest

1 John 4:20-21—Here John reminds his readers that God’s love for us is reflected through our love for others. As we grow in love, our confidence leads us to live God’s love towards others, but to do that requires us to be honest.

“If someone says”—John uses this phrase some seven times in his letter to warn his readers against the danger of pretending to be something that they are not.

Fear and pretense often go together, just remember Adam and Eve. No sooner had they sinned than they tried to hide themselves from God (and from each other by dressing in fig leaves). They refused to even take responsibility for their own acts.

A Christian who lacks confidence before God will lack confidence with God’s people. (W. Wiersbe)

When our hearts are confident before God, we do not need to pretend.

When we lack that confidence we tend to worry—”What will they think if they knew?”

God’s love produces the confidence to be honest and transparent. We do not need to pretend at spirituality. We know that God accepts us and his children should too. We can be ourselves, warts and all, because of God’s love.

When we pretend to be what we aren’t, we become liars.
Who is the father of lies? Satan.

Remember Ananias and Sapphira (Acts 5)

Spiritual honesty can bring peace and power to the one who practices it. Because he lives in open honesty with the Father, he can live honestly with other people.

But this transparency and honesty comes at a risk, doesn’t it?

We risk exposure, we risk being vulnerable, we risk rejection by those who don’t “get us”. . .

But truth and love go together—you really can’t have one without the other.

If we are going to be the people of God, then we must love others (John and Jesus both say so). And loving others means both accepting them and being honest with them. We must tell the truth in love (Ephesians 4:14-16).

As Christians, we cannot grow up or mature in Christ if we do not love each other. And we cannot truly love each other if we do not speak honestly and live honestly with each other.

Many of us avoid love because we are afraid.
Look at the example of Christ--he loved others and was rejected, mistreated, falsely accused, and even killed for it--Yet Jesus loved anyway.

Our goal is to be like Christ in this world (1 John 4:17), so we must love each other as he loved.

Love that is louder than fear is honest.

Conclusion

As “children of God” we are being transformed into his image (the image of Messiah), becoming more like him in our thoughts, actions, and love for other people, especially other believers. Even the hard times of our lives are working in us a more excellent weight of glory to reveal the character and image of Messiah (see 2 Corinthians 4).

Love sums up Jesus' teaching. The standard of love to which we are called is literally not of this world. The love that comes from God is sacrificial and manifests itself in action on behalf of others. It meets the needs of others in a variety of ways. As Christians genuinely exhibit this level of love, they in some ways incarnate the very character of God and reveal him to the world.

This sacrificial love requires us to be honest before God and others, and it requires us to find ways to get rid of fear. It also requires us sometimes to do things not because we want to do them, but because it will result in blessing for others.

We must sacrifice our desire to be respected or to be exalted and be willing to humble ourselves to serve. We have to be willing to put the needs of others before our own needs/desires.

This humility will also result in transparency and honesty.

How do we do this?

Some ideas for this week:

1. Be honest about our fears—be honest to ourselves and to God. If possible, be honest and accountable with another Christian. What is hindering us from growing in confidence in God’s love? What will we do to be rid of it? What are our fears? List them and then bring them to the Light of God's Love. Consider fear a spiritual problem—develop a walk with God with an eye toward growing in confidence with what he has accomplished. Pray and spend time with him and let him show us how to work through our fear.

2. Memorize verses that deal with fear and that deal with love: Psalm 23, Isaiah 43:5, John 3, 1 John 4. Take time this week to commit some verses to memory that deal with our areas of need. Spend 10 minutes a day hiding God’s Word in our hearts.

3. Find ways to practice love so that love may grow in us. Make some time to show sacrificial love this week—remember that sometimes the people who cause the most fear in us are also afraid. Love them. Show forgiveness to those who have wronged us. Love those who hate us. Encourage someone who is discouraged. Listen with love when a brother or sister shares honestly and transparently. Accept them and pray with and for them. Obedience to God is success, and we are called by God to love our neighbors. What can we do this week to show love to others?

Love that is louder than fear is only found in Messiah Jesus and should be found in his followers. Will we risk it?

Thanks for reading!

A Communion Meditation for Epiphany: Hope Among Unrealized Expectations

This Monday, January 6, will mark Epiphany on the Church calendar. Epiphany usually means something like “a moment of sudden insight or understanding,” but in the Christian calendar it represents the day that Messiah was manifest to the Gentiles when the wise men came to visit. So, January 6 is Epiphany, the last of the 12 days of Christmas, the day when the wise men from the east came and found Jesus. As of that day we will have officially ended the Christmas season and are starting the build up to Resurrection Sunday. As we started Advent, we spoke of hope—the hope revealed in the first coming of Christ and the hope in his imminent and sudden return at the end of the age. We are at the “in between” time of that hope. Jesus has indeed come, and his coming is not for the Jews only, the Messiah is born for all nations. Here are a couple of passages for Epiphany as part of our communion meditation.

Isaiah 60:1-5 (HCSB) “Arise, shine, for your light has come, and the glory of the LORD shines over you. For look, darkness covers the earth, and total darkness the peoples; but the LORD will shine over you, and His glory will appear over you. Nations will come to your light, and kings to the brightness of your radiance. Raise your eyes and look around: they all gather and come to you; your sons will come from far away, and your daughters will be carried on the hip. Then you will see and be radiant, and your heart will tremble and rejoice, because the riches of the sea will become yours, and the wealth of the nations will come to you.”

Matthew 2:1-11 (HCSB) “After Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea in the days of King Herod, wise men from the east arrived unexpectedly in Jerusalem, saying, ‘Where is He who has been born King of the Jews? For we saw His star in the east and have come to worship Him.’ . . . ‘In Bethlehem of Judea,’ they told him, ‘because this is what was written by the prophet: And you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah, are by no means least among the leaders of Judah: because out of you will come a leader who will shepherd My people Israel.’ . . .  After hearing the king, they went on their way. And there it was--the star they had seen in the east! It led them until it came and stopped above the place where the child was. When they saw the star, they were overjoyed beyond measure. Entering the house, they saw the child with Mary His mother, and falling to their knees, they worshiped Him. Then they opened their treasures and presented Him with gifts: gold, frankincense, and myrrh. And being warned in a dream not to go back to Herod, they returned to their own country by another route.”

The passage of Isaiah contains some extravagant promises. The prophet speaks of “brightness,” “glory,” “radiance,” and overflowing heart, and the “wealth of nations.” And who first heard these glowing words? Exiled Jews who had just returned home to a Jerusalem in ruins. Somehow, the words of the prophet didn’t quite match up with the realities on the ground. But that didn’t stop these believers from committing themselves to God’s work to see the glory that God had promised to them.

Similarly, how did the wise men recognize an earth-shaking event in the humble birth of Jesus to Joseph and Mary? Even the religious and political leaders of Israel missed the coming of Messiah. So how could these foreigners fall to their knees so readily, and offer such valuable treasures to this lowly child? Again, their expectations didn’t match up with what they found when they first laid eyes on the Messiah.

The wise men represent the “nations” mentioned in Isaiah, and as they come bringing gifts to Jesus they are the beginning of the fulfillment of the promises of Isaiah. They brought gifts to a promised king that they had never seen until that day. They also represent true worship by their humility (they kneel before this child, the king of the Jews) and later they obey God by not returning to Herod to tell of Jesus’ location. Like the exiles in Isaiah, their situation was not ideal, but they trusted in the God who promised.

Like the wise men and the returning exiles, we find ourselves in an interesting time, one that is not always ideal. Maybe our situations and circumstances are not what we expected. We came through the joy and celebration of the Christmas season, but for many of us the joy seems short lived. The “reality” of life around us seems to darken the sky once lit bright with hope and joy. We celebrated the birth of Jesus, the incarnation of God, but maybe after the new year we no longer feel like celebrating.

Yet, the New Year is a promise of new beginnings, and it is the promise of God’s continued watch care. We can trust him. The New Year is a time to look back and see God’s hand, and a time to look forward with expectation to his continued faithfulness and grace. It is a time to surrender to God and offer a gift of obedience. We start this new year with a recognition of our Messiah, the one who came for ALL people, the one who came as a Lamb to be “slain, and to purchase for God with his blood people from every tribe and tongue and people and nation.” We celebrated Messiah’s birth, and we celebrate his obedient death in the Lord’s Supper.

When we come to the communion table, we renew a covenant made long ago at a place called Golgotha. The elements here—the bread and the cup—symbolize the body and blood of Jesus. When we take these elements, we remember that Messiah Jesus gave his life for us. At the beginning of the new year, we can do nothing more appropriate than to come to this Table and let Communion be for us an act of consecration, an act of giving ourselves again to the Lord Jesus our Messiah.

On the night when he was betrayed, the Lord Jesus took bread. He blessed it and broke it. He said, “This is my body, which is broken for you.” This bread is his body, eat it as often as you eat it in remembrance of him. Jesus also said, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood.” Drink it as often as you drink it in remembrance of him. Paul reminds us to take time to consider our lives before we partake in this supper. It is time to prepare our hearts for Communion. Make sure you have nothing between you and God or between you and another human. Look at yourself, and then look to Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith. Consecrate yourself to God.

As the hymn says:

Take my life and let it be Consecrated, Lord to Thee;

Take my hands and let them move at the impulse of Thy love.

Take my feet and let them be, Swift and beautiful for Thee;

Take my voice and let me sing, always, only, for my King.

Take my silver and my gold, Not a mite would I withhold;

Take my moments and my days, Let them flow in ceaseless praise.

Take my will and make it Thine, it shall be no longer mine;

Take my heart, it is Thine own, It shall be Thy royal throne.

Let’s pray: Thank you, Father, for the way you have traveled with us so far, and for the journey that lies ahead. As we begin this new year, remind us of your faithfulness and grace. Remembering these things, we come to celebrate this supper, and we remember the last meal between Jesus and his disciples. His body was later broken for us as a way to remember the greatest gift ever given, his life for ours. We ask that you bless us to your service. Lord Jesus, you taught us how to serve. You taught us to be faithful. You have blessed us in so many ways. May we be reminded daily of the ultimate sacrifice given for us through the giving of your blood, and may we find the courage to offer our lives to you in obedience. We ask these things in the blessed name of Jesus. Amen.

Thanks for reading! 

Annual Christmas Post: The Mystery of Christmas (Advent 2019)

Hey y'all:

I started this blog several years ago, and every year I have posted a piece I wrote around Christmas 2003. It kind of sums up for me what is the "Mystery of Christmas" as I meditate on the Incarnation and its implications for humanity (and perhaps for God as well!). The very idea of God becoming "one of us among us" (Immanuel) still fascinates and overwhelms me. God, the creator of all things, humbled himself, became of no reputation, and entered his own creation so as to renew and to redeem and to rescue us (and, ultimately, to do these things for all of creation as well). God, the Creator of all things, became flesh so that he might accomplish the plan to make his grace and glory known in humans and in all of creation. The God who never knew death would die for us. The God who never knew sin would become sin for us. He would break the power of sin, condemn sin in his own flesh, and provide for all of us the rescue we need to become the people God always intended us to be.  What an amazing love! Thanks be to God for his indescribable gift! As you celebrate the advent of our King Jesus the Messiah, I hope you enjoy this rerun. Feel free to make comments if you'd like.

A little over 2000 years ago, a tiny child was born in some pretty bleak conditions. Oh, he wasn’t the only one born in less than optimal conditions. In fact, in some ways, he was one of the lucky ones. He and his mother actually survived childbirth and thrived. Still, this story is unique and amazing on several levels.

First, the life of this child would literally change the way time is reckoned in the world. His life and abilities would have such an impact on generations of others that a brand new movement would be created, one that would radically change the very face of the earth (sometimes for good, sometimes not so much). His name would become recognized among the names of the greatest of humans, yet he never forgot his own humble beginnings or lost a sense of who he was.

The second thing about this child is tied to the first in that this baby, this helpless lad full of spittle and mush, was born as the very Son of God. When Mary held his little head to her breast, he drank human milk. Yet, he was (and is) the God of the universe. Can you picture this simply ridiculous yet somehow poetic scene? God, who calls the stars by name, pressed to the human breast for sustenance. Humble yet awesome, is how some folks would no doubt recall this child.

A little over 2000 years ago, God proposed that the only remedy for the human condition of sin would be if he humbled himself, stepped out of eternity and into human flesh, and suckled at Mary’s breast in preparation for the greatest, most impressive conversion of all. God, in Mary’s arms, toddling around Joseph’s home, learning to talk, learning to walk, tasting food, and touching things with human hands! As the Psalmist says in Psalm 139, “Such knowledge is too wonderful for us, we cannot contain it!”

God knew that the only way to redeem us was if he did it himself. Haven’t you ever had that thought? You know, the one where you say, “If I want something done right, I’ll just have to do it myself?” Imagine God having that thought about bringing us to proper relationship with him. Imagine again that the only way he knew he could do that is if he came to earth as a baby. Think of it—-how vulnerable the almighty God was at that moment, how paradoxical that the God of all creation had to learn to walk! And why did he put himself in this situation? Out of his divine sense of justice and righteousness and mercy, out of his inexpressible love for humanity he acted in this manner.

God humbled himself.  In a sense, he took on our insanity so that we may be sane. He became flesh so that we might walk in his Spirit. He became sin that we might be righteous. He became poor so that we might be rich. He who had the reputation of Creator became a humble servant with no reputation. He became a toddling, dribbling, helpless babe so that we could become mature humans in the image of the almighty Son of God. What wondrous love! What humility and service! How then can anything he asks of us be too difficult?

Lord, during this Christmas season, remind us of your sacrifice and love so that we might be a light shining in darkness to others. Teach us to live a life of humble service like your Son did on our behalf so many years ago. As we celebrate the babe in the manger, may the glory he revealed in his life shine through us towards others that they may know God. May the grace of God and the peace of Christ rule in our families and our lives.

Thanks for reading!

Merry Christmas!  May you know the blessings of the God who humbled himself and served! 

Some thoughts on community and truth

We speak of truth and lovely things, but transparency and honesty can sometimes be messy. It is fine, though, God doesn't mind messy.

If Jesus is truth, then why are we so quick to lie to each other as Christians? Are we really that concerned with how we "look" to others?

Too often I compare myself to others whose situation is no better--without Christ, they are also nothing. Jesus is the Model to imitate.

Church should be community, and community is sometimes messy. Unity only comes when we humble ourselves and serve others.

Unity is not uniformity. My brother/sister may look quite different, but our unity is based on what Jesus has done and the example he set.

Come to grips then with this truth--you are not God, but you need God. The only way God fills your need is by Jesus, his Incarnate Word.

If you find a substitute to fill your void, you will always have "less-than-God." This idol will always fail. It cannot do anything less.

God became one of us to reach us. He served humbly, what more can he ask of us? To love one another calls for humble service. It is enough.

Thanks for reading!

Undone . . . Pulled Apart . . . A time for rest

The meditation below was written originally several years ago. The sentiment and the experience are still the same, but the circumstances have changed a bit.

You see, I am getting closer to celebrating my 60th birthday. I am firmly on the downward side of my quest to live for 100 years. The very thought that I have lived 6 decades has given me pause. For some of my readers 60 seems pretty old, perhaps for others it seems a bit young. All I know is that it has caused me to pause and to reflect on my life.

I am a words of affirmation kind of person, and as such I love to give encouragement to others (and to receive it too!). On the other hand, there are those times where I feel incredibly unnoticed and irrelevant and even melancholy in some ways. Today is one of those days. I noticed my frustration level was a bit higher than usual (not sure why). I feel like my day has started with me already running behind in lots of things. I mean, my day (it is only 10:20!) already seems a bit undone. So, this morning as I contemplated my situation, the post below kind of summed up my mood. I thought I'd repost it for that reason (and maybe it will encourage some of you).

As you stand before God undone today, as you unravel in his presence, cling tightly to the promise that he has given--"I will never leave you nor forsake you." Stand or sit before Jesus and just let your life pause before him for a moment. Join me and come undone. Let's unravel in his presence. I hope you enjoy this little meditation from 2008.

Today as I drove to work, I couldn't help a bit of melancholy.

The weather was cool, traffic was light, the music was breezy, the mountains were august, the sun brilliant, . . .

and I was melancholy.

As I drove I began to think of Abraham, Moses, and Isaiah for some reason. Each of these individuals had an amazing encounter with God. Abraham (while still "Abram") encountered the God of covenants. During a dream at night terrors seized Abram as he saw the torch of God move between the divided carcasses of the animal sacrifices. Abram was undone.

Moses encountered God first as an enigma. Moses saw a bush that was on fire and yet not burning. He went closer, he heard God, he took off his shoes. He was undone, his life would never be the same.

Isaiah lost a friend and a hero. When King Uzziah died, Isaiah wept and went into deep mourning. During his depression, Isaiah had a vision. Angels flew about, the holiness and awesomeness of God shook the foundation and pillars of the Temple.

God spoke, Isaiah trembled.

When Isaiah dared to speak in this holy company, the words out of his mouth were "Woe is me, I am undone!"

As I understand it, the Hebrew here has the meaning of being unzipped from the belly to the neck so that your insides spill out.

Okay, maybe I'm stretching it a bit, but it was not a happy thought for Isaiah. He felt unraveled in the presence of God.

That kind of describes my melancholy today . . . I feel unraveled. Like a ball of yarn that has lost its consistency, I am loose and dangly.

Like a sweater pulled apart thread-by-thread, I am undone.

I look at the majesty around me, the beauty and holiness and awe-fulness of it all, and I find myself undone.

It is not a bad feeling necessarily, but it is a bit unnerving.

I feel unraveled.

Like a joke with no punch line, or a sitcom with no laugh track, or a book with no thesis or direction, or a story with no meaning . . .

I feel undone.

How do I explain what is happening in my heart when words seem hard to find?

Life is good, things seem to be fine, but I feel . . . well, what?

I think that this is a normal human emotion, and it is one I've encountered before. I'm not depressed; in fact, I'm not really sad at all! I'm actually smiling as I type these words!

I sit here in the midst of an august band of people, activities, and stuff, and I feel a bit unraveled.

Maybe I'm just relaxing . . . loosening things a bit in preparation for the next battle or the next activity or the next thing.

Maybe it is a "Selah," a sort of pause of spirit that causes me to reflect a bit.

It is a good thing, I think, to be unraveled before God and his wonderful creation.

So, like Paul, I will relish in my unraveling, in my undoing, in my weakness . . . for when I am weak, God is strong. When I am undone, God still does. When I am unraveled, Jesus holds all things together.

I smile, I sigh. I listen to U2 and Larry Norman and Bob Dylan.

I will go find some Jonny Lang or Switchfoot. I will relish in the tones, in the thoughts, in the music. I will unravel before God and just be. I will let myself be undone so that he can renew me.

What a wonderful life!

Thanks for reading!