Giant Killers

I am rereading the book Giant Killers, by Dennis Jernigan, for the third or fourth time. He points out that when David killed Goliath, he picked up five stones from the brook. And in fact there were four more giants mentioned in Scripture that were killed by David and his men in later years. Goliath was just the first, and his name actually means “to be disgracefully stripped naked.” The other four giants were:

Ishbi-Benob (“to retreat”) – 2 Samuel 21:15-17
Saph (“to snatch away”) – 2 Samuel 21:18
Lahmi (“foodful”) – 1 Chronicles 20:5
And the unnamed six-fingered giant – 2 Samuel 21:20-21

Jernigan parallels these giants to some we face today—shame, discouragement, fear, evil desires, and enslavement to sin. I don’t know about you, but I’ve met some of these guys. Some of them seem to come back to life when I think they’re dead, and sometimes they come one after another.

As I’ve been reading this book I’ve also been listening to Mark Driscoll’s sermon series on Ephesians, which is closely related to his book Who Do You Think You Are? Both Jernigan and Driscoll do a good job of reminding people that the way to defeat the giants we face is to remember who we are in Christ. Our tendency is to define ourselves in terms of our status, our circumstances, or our sin. “I am” —married/single/divorced, parent/grandparent/childless, unemployed, white collar, bankrupt, alcoholic, drug addict, victim, adulterer, sinner, guilty, ashamed, etc. But are those the terms God uses to define us? As Driscoll says, “Those things may help explain us, but they don’t define us.”

Instead, God says we are saints, blessed, saved, reconciled, gifted, new creations, forgiven, adopted, loved, victorious, etc. If we rely on our human terms to define ourselves, we miss out on the strength, courage, and hope that come from being rooted and grounded in Christ. If we start to believe who God says we are, we should find that the giants in our lives lose their power. They don’t necessarily stop showing up entirely, since we are still in the middle of the battle, but they won’t win the war.

When the Israelites first encountered Goliath, they believed the lies that they were weak and couldn’t win the fight. David realized the truth that the battle belonged to the Lord, so he took action against the giant. After he killed Goliath, he probably didn’t expect to encounter any more giants, but because of his faith in God and with the support of his men, each giant was defeated.

The lies of the enemy are so pervasive that we forget they are lies. If we define ourselves as victims, we will act like victims and never find healing. If we believe we are sinners, we will continue to give in to temptation and never realize the freedom we have in Christ. If we believe we are rejected, we will act like we’re rejected and never have the confidence to experience the adventure of living as God’s children. We need to remember who we are in Christ and learn to live accordingly, no matter what comes our way.

We also need to be careful how we define others. We need to remember that our fellow believers are also forgiven, loved, new creations. If we use God’s perspective, it is easier to love some of those folks who get on our nerves or seem to keep doing the wrong things. If we look at them with God’s eyes and treat them accordingly, they may learn to look at themselves differently, and that can make a huge difference in their lives.

In our relationships with unbelievers, viewing them from God’s perspective can also change their lives. It occurred to me this week that if we say we “hate the sin but love the sinner,” perhaps the first thing we need to do is stop looking at them in terms of their sin and start looking at them as individuals who were created in the image of God, who God loves and is pursuing, and for whom Christ died. Yes, it is true that they are sinners (just as we were before we were saved), and that they need to repent, but it is the Holy Spirit’s job to bring conviction and repentance. Our job is to show them God’s love in action. If we can’t look past whatever sin “defines” that particular person, maybe we need to take a hard look at ourselves and deal with our own pride or judgmentalism. All varieties of sin are reprehensible to God, so just because one particular variety makes us more uncomfortable doesn’t give us the right to condemn one person as worse than another.

I can’t think of anything that gives me more confidence when facing giants or more desire to change than to know that God loves me unconditionally. Because of Jesus my sins (past, present & future) have already been forgiven, so nothing I can do will separate me from His love. And I can’t think of anything that reminds me of that fact better than a few people who know me well and love me anyway. I know what that has done for me, and I can only imagine what it would do for someone who has not yet met the Savior. Will they meet Him through my love or yours?

Don't Give Up

The other day after running I was sitting on the bench by the church and praying. I looked down and saw a little clover plant near my foot, and it was moving. It wasn’t just swaying in the breeze, but jerking back and forth. I could see no cause for the movement, so I assume there was some little critter underground tugging on the roots.

It made me start thinking, so often the things we see have small causes that we may never see (as in the parable of the mustard seed in Matthew 13, which was the subject of a recent sermon). In our own lives, spiritual growth often takes small steps that we may not really pay attention to, though eventually the cumulative result is highly visible. But the thing is, it has to happen from the inside out. Trying to manage behavior without changing the heart is a hopeless endeavor. Reforming the flesh only makes us better looking sinners. It’s like trying to make a plant grow by dressing up the surface. That doesn’t really do anything for the plant. (But try telling that to the poinsettia growers who insist on decorating the leaves with glitter!) The only thing you can do to the outside of the plant is perhaps kill a few insects. Real growth has to come from water and fertilizer being absorbed through the roots.

Max Lucado gives the rather bizarre example of a freezer that got unplugged. He did everything he could to polish the outside, dress it up, and encourage it with love and friends, but wondered why it was still full of rotting food (The Applause of Heaven). We try to do the same with our lives by making ourselves look and feel better without changing the root problem. Only God can change the heart. And the good news is that for believers He has already done the dirty work of forgiveness. What we need now is to turn to Him for the nourishment for growth, strength to resist temptations, and faith that He will do what He has promised.

And since the church is made up of many individuals, growth in the church can only happen through growth in the lives of the individual members. Each little seed that has been sown has to grow up together for the field to become full and ready for harvest. It is discouraging in our own lives if we don’t see the kind of growth we’re looking for, and the same is true in the local church. Sometimes we have to trust that God is indeed at work even if we don’t yet see the fruit. We want to go out in the orchard and paint the apples red in order to make them ripen faster. As James wrote, “Be patient, therefore, brothers, until the coming of the Lord. See how the farmer waits for the precious fruit of the earth, being patient about it, until it receives the early and the late rains” (James 5:7). God’s fruit will grow and ripen in His time, not our own.

I have to say, I wish God would work a little faster sometimes! He certainly has the power, and just think what a testimony it would be to the world. But He doesn’t seem to do that very often. Discouragement is one of the greatest tools of the enemy. If we fail to see or believe that God is at work, then it is easy to give up and give in to temptation, depression, and doubt. That’s why it is crucial to have those folks in our lives who know us well and can point out what God is doing that we may otherwise overlook or discount. We can be so focused on the negative that we don’t see anything else. We need frequent reminders that God is at work even though it seems too little and too slow.

Run to the Cross

When I’m running laps around the church, I often use the cross as a reference point for my start and finish. That’s probably a good analogy for the Christian life as well.

True life begins at the cross where we receive new life in Christ. “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come” (2 Cor. 5:17). If we forget this beginning, we forget who we are in Christ. We will either think too highly of ourselves—“my righteousness is my own;” or we will think too little of ourselves—“I’m a hopeless sinner.” But when we remember the cross we know that our righteousness comes from Him and we are neither righteous in ourselves nor hopelessly lost.

All of life should flow from the cross because Christ is our strength. “I can do all things through Him who strengthens me” (Phil. 4:13). The cross reminds us of the One who endured great suffering on our behalf in order that He might live in us and enable us to abide in Him. Without the cross our striving is in vain, but with it we have strength for today and hope for tomorrow.

Our activities should be constantly referring back to the cross as our standard. “Looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God” (Heb. 12:2). We tend to forget that our life in Christ began with suffering. We are never promised a life free of suffering. Serving our Lord means serving others. We may have to give up some of our comforts and independence if we are to give our lives in love.

Unlike running laps and circling back to the cross, we have the privilege of taking the cross with us wherever we go. However, there may be times when we choose to turn our backs on the cross and venture into sin. But when we realize our error we can turn around and find that the cross is right there.

Thinking back to my years of track and cross-country, there were a few lessons the coach tried to instill in us. First, practice like you’re really running the race, otherwise you’ll run the race as if you’re just practicing. Second, don’t stop running until you’ve crossed the finish line. I don’t know how many girls I passed in the last few meters because they slowed down at the end. Third, even if you trip over the last hurdle (as I did) you still get up and finish the race.

I wonder if we tend to treat the Christian life the same way? We figure we’ve already got salvation (the prize), so we don’t need to put any effort into the race. Or we bemoan the fact that we’ve fallen, so we don’t bother to get up and keep running. Fortunately we’re not running alone. We have many people surrounding us who not only cheer us on but also help us on the way. We aren’t trying to beat the competition to the line, but we lift up the wounded and weary to make sure we arrive together.

Scripture gives several reminders that this race is not over and we want to be found faithful. (See 1 Cor. 9:24-27, Gal. 2:2, Phil. 2:14-16, Heb. 12:1-3.) May we persevere and keep our focus until the very end. May we not grow weary and abandon our first love (Rev. 2:3-4)!

Grace Unending

This week during communion I was thinking about the grace and mercy of forgiveness, and remembering that there’s nothing I can do to earn or repay that grace and mercy. But then my thoughts took me a step farther than I’ve gone before. Not only can I not repay it, but I will also never be good enough to not need it! Of course that’s logical, but I think we tend to overlook or forget that part. It is clear that the Christian life is to be one of growth in obedience and holiness, as well as growth in grace. Even though we know we’ll never be perfect in this lifetime, perhaps we think that we’ll reach some point where we won’t need God’s mercy. But that’s just what our imperfection means.

Have you ever thought about some of the saintly older ladies of the church and thought, “I wonder what they need to confess at their age?” I can think of a few who probably spend (or spent) a good portion of their time in prayer and Bible study. And then I compare my life and wonder if I’ll ever get to the point where sin “X” is no longer an issue. I certainly can’t imagine some of those ladies ever struggling with sin in a significant way.

In The Shelter of God’s Promises, Sheila Walsh writes, “I know that for most of your life you have believed that God’s love is based on whether we make good choices or bad choices, but the cross makes it pretty clear that no amount of good choices would ever be good enough. You are loved just the same on the days when you feel you’ve done a good job as on the days when you know that you have blown it.” It’s encouraging to know that God’s love never changes, and also to know that there’s no end to His grace. Imagine God saying, “Sorry, you’ve messed up one too many times. You should be better than that by now!” Instead He says, “Yes, I know that you’re ashamed of your ongoing struggle with sin, but I’ll always love you and I’ve already forgiven you.”

He knows that we are weak, He knows we are imperfect, and He knows we are slow-growing. At the same time, we tend to have a higher opinion of ourselves than we ought. We think we are strong (1 Cor. 10:12), we think perfection might actually be attainable (James 3:2), and we think we ought to be growing faster than we are (Col. 2:19). Sin is often a reality check, reminding us that we need God—His strength, grace, love, and forgiveness—far more than we realize. If we could fulfill our own wishes, we would be perfect and we wouldn’t need God. That was the temptation in the Garden of Eden, “you’ll be like God” and therefore will be self-sufficient.

I’ve been wrestling with 2 Corinthians 12 and Paul’s description of the thorn he had to deal with. He refers to it as “a messenger of Satan to harass me, to keep me from becoming conceited.” As we know, he never specifies what that thorn is, and it’s been speculated that it was some physical problem (like impaired vision), some particular temptation, or something else altogether. Whatever it was, it caused Paul to see his need for God’s grace. I’ve questioned whether this passage could actually refer to temptation. One would think that if Paul pleaded to be freed from a temptation then God would be glad to deliver him. But perhaps that’s not the case. James reminds us that God does not tempt anyone, but that man is tempted by his own desires (1:13-14). So it may be that God allows those desires to continue to tempt us. Hopefully we learn to turn immediately to God instead of giving in to sin, but we are slow learners.

In either case we need God’s grace. We need grace to keep us from sin, and we need grace when we do sin. We’ll never be beyond the need of His grace. May we not think of ourselves more highly than we ought (Rom. 12:3).

“As a father shows compassion to his children, so the Lord shows compassion to those who fear Him. For He knows our frame; He remembers that we are dust” (Psalm 103:13-14).

Wounded Healers

I recently read God Loves Broken People by Sheila Walsh. She quotes from Thornton Wilder’s play The Angel That Troubled the Waters, “They very angels themselves cannot persuade the wretched and blundering children on earth as can one human being broken on the wheels of living. In love’s service only the wounded soldiers can serve.” Walsh goes on to ask, “What if the brokenness we ask God to fix is in fact a gift? What if the wounds we beg God to heal, the burdens we plead with Him to remove, are the very things that make us fit for His service?”

Henri Nouwen wrote in Bread for the Journey, “Nobody escapes being wounded. We are all wounded people, whether physically, emotionally, mentally, or spiritually. The main question is not ‘How can we hide our wounds?’ so we don’t have to be embarrassed, but ‘How can we put our woundedness in the service of others?’ When our wounds cease to be a source of shame, and become a source of healing, we have become wounded healers… When we experience the healing presence of another person, we can discover our own gifts of healing. Then our wounds allow us to enter into a deep solidarity with our wounded brothers and sisters.”

I wonder if that has been your experience in the church? How many of us can really be honest in our relationships within our local church? No, we don’t have to bare it all before the whole body, but are there a few people or a small group with whom we don’t have to remain hidden? I suspect that for a vast number of church-goers the answer is no. It may be that we’ve been hurt by gossip, or we’ve seen someone else knocked down for daring to be open. We naturally fear the judgmental attitudes we’ve seen displayed in the past.

How can we move forward in intimacy and unity within the Body of Christ? The quote from Nouwen suggests a couple things to do: 1) seek healing in relationship with another person, and 2) become an instrument of healing for someone else. Both require some discernment in knowing who can be trusted. Perhaps a good place to start would be with someone who is in leadership within the local body. In most churches the pastor, deacons, and elders are people of spiritual maturity who should be trustworthy with difficult matters. It doesn’t necessarily have to start with someone in the local body. Trained counselors are an excellent resource for beginning the healing process, but it can’t end there. Binding up the wounds is only part of the process. True healing requires developing healthy relationships that promote continuing growth in grace and truth.

Imagine a cardiologist who says, “OK, I’ve completed your transplant surgery, now you’re on your own. Good luck!” You’d quickly be seeking another doctor for the necessary follow-up care. It’s not really any different with our emotional and spiritual wounds. One doctor may help us become functional again, but full, vibrant health involves other people to exhort, encourage, and teach us day after day and year after year.

Beginning the process of healing puts us in a unique position to help others who have not yet gotten that far. Someone who has wrestled with depression and anxiety can speak to those wounds far better than someone who has only read about the issues. I would bet that the vast majority of people who become professional counselors have dealt with significant issues in their own lives. As Sheila Walsh suggests, maybe the fact that we have been wounded is just what God wants to use to help someone else. When the risen Jesus met Peter on the seashore, He didn’t just ask “Do you love Me?” He also gave him a job to do, “Tend my sheep” (John 21:15-17). Restoration of the relationship wasn’t enough. Peter needed to move forward in loving others by sharing God’s truth and grace with them. The same was true of others that Jesus healed. The man freed from the demons was commissioned to tell his community about what Jesus had done for him (Mark 5:19). A couple times Jesus instructed someone “Tell no one,” and yet the word got out (Luke 5:14-15).

Perhaps if we are willing to be honest with a small group, that will be the spark that initiates transformation within our church. Wounded people becoming wounded healers can make God’s love tangible to a lot of scared, hurt, and lonely people. May God use our wounds for His glory!

“If we are afflicted, it is for your comfort and salvation; and if we are comforted, it is for your comfort, which you experience when you patiently endure the same sufferings that we suffer” (2 Cor. 1:6 ESV).

Seek the Kingdom

Matthew 6:25-34 “Do not worry about what you will eat, drink or wear…”

Generally speaking, I don’t think most of us worry about food, drink, and clothing. Yes, it is part of our daily planning, but we don’t really worry about it because we know we have what we need. Even if the cupboards are bare, we have credit cards in hand and stores within driving distance. Our worries are more along the lines of: “Will I have enough money in the bank to cover the bills this month?” “Will the car keep running long enough to save up for a new one?” “Did I put enough time and information into that report my boss needed?” “Did I remember to fill out all my tax forms on time?” “What crisis is the next phone call from a customer (or child, or parent) going to bring?”

Most of our worries aren’t really about physical needs like Jesus was addressing. Instead we worry about things that impact our comfort or reputation. Regardless of our worries, Jesus’ advice is the same: “Seek first the Kingdom of God and His righteousness.” I dare say He would be even more emphatic when we consider our modern worries. Why are we worried about personal comfort and convenience when there are people around the world who are starving or homeless? Why are we worried about our reputation and self-image when we are supposed to be glorifying God alone? Many of our so-called worries could be eliminated by planning ahead and exercising self-control with our money and time. Not surprisingly, self-control is part of the Fruit of the Spirit, which points us back to seeking first the Kingdom.

How would our lives be different if we truly sought the Kingdom of God first and foremost? Would we be spending money on toys and amenities we don’t really need, or would we be satisfied with a used car, a smaller home, and store-brand clothes and foods? Would our evenings be spent watching the news and the latest reality TV show, or would we be reading the Bible or listening to worship music or a sermon? Would our kids need to participate in every local sports team, or would we play games together as a family?

Would our lives exhibit more of the Fruit of the Spirit if we kept drawing our attention back to the Kingdom of God? Who doesn’t want more love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness, and self-control? And if we truly want those things in our lives, why do we keep seeking them in things that will never satisfy?

I’m very conscious of the fact that I’m pointing fingers at myself here. I certainly haven’t figured out how to apply the right priorities to every situation in every day. I usually don’t even notice it until I have to face the consequences of anxiety, depression, anger and sin. Only when I realize things are screwed up do I start thinking about what I need to do to change.

While the advice is simple, “Seek first the Kingdom,” applying it consistently is extremely difficult. My suggestion would be to start small: turn off the TV for a night (or longer); pick up an inspirational book instead of that novel; find a more encouraging radio station, or turn off the radio altogether; instead of shopping for yourself, pick up something for the current fundraiser (school supplies, canned food drive, etc.) or for someone in need. While it is easy to make small changes, it’s also easy to slip back into old habits. We need constant reminders of why we’re doing this is and what our priority should be—the Kingdom. That’s where the Body of Christ comes in. On our own we may have little motivation to seek the Kingdom, but we can encourage one another to keep making those small changes that will add up over time.

“Let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds. Let us not give up meeting together” (Heb. 10:24-25).

Slave or Free

This blog will be a bit more theological than usual. I’ve been reading in Galatians this week, and something suddenly made more sense than it has in the past. Spending a couple years in Romans will do that to you. In Galatians 4:21-31 Paul is talking about Abraham’s children through Hagar and Sarah. Ishmael was born to Hagar the slave “according to the flesh” because Abraham thought he had to take things into his own hands to fulfill the promise of having an heir. Then Isaac was born to Sarah as the actual child of the promise. Paul goes on explain in verse 24 that these two women represent the two covenants—the Law and Grace, or flesh and Spirit.

Ishmael was the son of a slave, and the Law enslaves all of us (see Gal. 3:23). Isaac was born to the free woman through God’s promise, and all those who are in Christ are freed from the Law and are heirs of God (see 3:29).

What I find interesting is that we’re children of two different “mothers.” In the flesh we are children of slavery just as Ishmael was. We were born as slaves of the Law and we have no hope for freedom in and of ourselves. (It’s terrible to be a slave to a master you can never hope to please!) And yet through Christ we become children of the promise, freed from sin and the Law. “So, brothers, we are not children of the slave but of the free woman” (v. 31). Not only do we have a new mother, but a new Father as well. We no longer belong to the father of lies (John 8:44), but we belong to God the Father (1 John 3:1).

Unfortunately, just as Ishmael persecuted Isaac, so we too have to deal with the battle between flesh and Spirit throughout this lifetime. Even though the flesh has been “dethroned” and should have no power over us, it’s a constant challenge to learn to listen to our real Father and obey Him. That’s the whole point of the book of Galatians. “For freedom Christ has set us free; stand firm therefore, and do not submit again to a yoke of slavery” (5:1). I can practically hear Paul yelling at them (and all believers), “You’re free! Don’t live like a slave to sin! Ignore the old master! Listen to the Spirit and you won’t be listening to the flesh!”

I think we’d all agree that’s easier said than done. Even the venerable Apostle Paul said the same thing in Romans 7:15-25. The battle rages within us. Temptation seems so strong and its fruit so desirable. Paul reminds us in Romans 6:21-22, “But what fruit were you getting at that time from the things of which you are now ashamed? For the end of those things is death. But now that you have been set free from sin and have become slaves of God, the fruit you get leads to sanctification and its end, eternal life.” The fruit of sin will never really satisfy, and only leads to a desire for more sin. “But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control… And those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires” (Gal. 5:22-24).

We can take heart that we’re not in this alone. This civil war started in the Garden of Eden and will continue until the end of time. Even though the war has already been won, there are daily battles being fought within each of us. One day we’ll get to see the final victory over sin and death, and by faith and grace we will be on the winning side.

In the meantime, may we often be reminded of our freedom in Christ. Our chains are gone!

Longing for Heaven

I wonder if everyone has the same difficulty that I have in imagining what the kingdom of heaven will be like? In our imaginings, can we even create a place we’d actually want to stay for eternity? I’d have to say that I’m rarely so inspired. Most of my thoughts of eternity are of those things that will be absent there—no more pain, sorrow, sin and shame, failing bodies, frustrating work, or irritating people. I often long for the day when those things will be gone, but I give little thought to what is beyond that.

One definition of “ethereal” is heavenly or celestial; but another definition is light, airy, or tenuous. The common illustrations of heaven are so insubstantial and inconsequential as to be unappealing to all but a few. Fluffy clouds and harps? Does that appeal to anyone? Don’t we long for something of substance, weighty and meaningful?

The few pictures of heaven from Scripture don’t do much to excite me either. The images from the book of Revelation are too bizarre to make me say “I want to be there,” (except perhaps in an idle curiosity as to what those creatures are actually going to look like). The thought of the wedding supper of the Lamb is tainted by memories of awkward meals with strangers, or even worse, memories of junior high cafeteria cliques. I wouldn’t mind the occasional Gaither-style homecoming concert, though not forever.

Brent Curtis and John Eldredge point out in The Sacred Romance that one key factor of heaven is intimacy. We will know God and be known by Him as the dearest of friends (see 1 Cor. 13:12). I don’t think that is going to be experienced as a crowd of people bowing down before the throne. That doesn’t sound at all intimate, or even enjoyable. C.S. Lewis writes in The Weight of Glory, “The sense that in this universe we are treated as strangers, the longing to be acknowledged, to meet with some response, to bridge some chasm that yawns between us and reality, is part of our inconsolable secret. And surely, from this point of view, the promise of glory, in the sense described, becomes highly relevant to our deep desire. For glory meant good report with God, acceptance by God, response, acknowledgment, and welcome into the heart of things.”

Jesus says, “I go to prepare a place for you” (John 14:2). He’s not just preparing a general place for all believers, but a place for me. He’s preparing a place that each one of us can call home. My idea of the perfect meal would be a quiet dinner with a few close friends, enjoying one another and sharing laughter. The perfect evening might be spent watching the sun setting and the stars appearing one by one. I’d rather have a cabin in the country than a room in a mansion. One of my favorite recurring dreams is of going swimming and finding I can breathe under water. It would be awesome to go reef diving without special gear and without fear. I believe God is creative enough to satisfy each person’s deepest desires. And with the new heavens and new earth, there will be plenty of space for a wide variety of opportunities.

Other authors have pointed out that just as the original creation began with God’s work and included a form of work for mankind (tending the garden), so the new creation will include work. It will begin with God’s re-creation of heaven and earth (Rev. 21). I don’t suppose we’ll hear the command to “be fruitful and multiply,” but somehow mankind will have a purpose to fulfill as well. No longer will work be arduous and frustrating, but something we can enjoy and glorify God with. We probably can’t even begin to imagine what God will have us doing because we have nothing on this earth with which to compare it.

The enemy uses our misconceptions of heaven for his purposes. If heaven is not a place that we long for, what is our motivation for sharing the gospel? That’s like trying to get someone excited about going to the dentist. Sure it’s necessary, but you won’t enjoy it.

If our ideas of heaven create a sense of boredom or perhaps even revulsion, we can be sure they must be wrong. C.S. Lewis says, “If I find in myself desires which nothing in this world can satisfy, the only logical explanation is that I was made for another world.” Curtis & Eldredge suggest that our three essential desires are intimacy, beauty, and adventure. We may use different terminology, but the idea is that those things which stir our longings in this life are windows to the life to come. Perhaps as we think about what we desire most deeply, we will begin to imagine what that other world may look like. And then we can look forward to that day with hope and anticipation. Otherwise we’re just biding our time until the pain of this life is over, and there is no hope in that.

“Blessed by the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! According to His great mercy, He has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you” (1 Peter 1:3-4).