Envious or Content?

Sunday afternoon I was thinking about the sermon, Wisdom & Envy, and I was convicted to realize that I do struggle with envy in one particular area. It’s not about things—I have more than I need. It’s not about relationships—God has given me the people I need in my life. But I do envy those who seem to have a much more lighthearted attitude toward life than I do. One friend and I have discussed the question more than once—“Is there something wrong with us that we don’t laugh hilariously at every little thing?” (We agreed we’re normal!) We could attribute it to many different things, since personality development is an area of vast research. I’m certainly not in a position to judge those who are different from me.

While I was wrestling with this idea, I was reading a short book I picked up from the church library, God Is In Control, by Charles Stanley. He writes:

“I wonder how many times you have said to the Lord, ‘Dear Lord, I want You to use me. I don’t want a lot of pain in my life, but I’m willing to be used.’ Sorry, God does not work that way. If you want to be used by God, get ready to hurt. If you want to be a comforter, then get ready to suffer. If you want to be someone who can really encourage others, then you must be a person who’s walked through the valley of discouragement, surrounded by hurt, suffering, and loss. God is equipping you and me to be vessels of love, healing, and restoration to a world filled with pain, hate, and fear” (86).

I’m not saying that lighthearted people aren’t used by God. After all, “For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven... a time to weep and a time to laugh” (Ecclesiastes 3:1,4 ESV). However, I think there are a couple practical implications to consider.

1) Perhaps some (or many) people are pretending to be happier than they really are. They may be hiding their pain out of shame or fear. Or they may believe the unwritten expectation that Christians should be joyful at all times. Larry Crabb recounts a story in Shattered Dreams of a friend who told him, “I’m tired of doing great. Just yesterday, I overheard two of my friends talking about me. One asked how I was doing. The other said I was doing great. I wanted to scream.” Crabb goes on, “When life kicks us in the stomach, we want someone to be with us as we are, not as he or she wishes us to be. We don’t want someone trying to make us feel better. That effort, no matter how well intended, creates a pressure that adds to our distress” (123). Sometimes it’s easier to pretend all is well than to be honest about whatever difficulties we’re facing. (And certainly, not every conversation needs to become a counseling session.)

2) Sometimes it is okay to set aside the difficulties and enjoy the moment. If we’re truly trusting that God is in control, we don’t need to continually dwell on the issues until God straightens them out. It’s okay to cry, but it’s also okay to laugh. We may not all be the cackling or guffawing types, and that’s okay too.

Even though I have envied others’ happiness, I wouldn’t trade lives with them under any circumstances. I have learned far more through suffering depression than I ever would have in other ways. Kathryn Greene-McCreight states it well in Darkness Is My Only Companion:

“I had not been praying for my own healing at this point. I do not mean to generalize and say that all mentally ill people should follow me in this. But the only prayer I could muster was for strength to endure this. There were of course times when the shadow of an inkling crossed my mind to pray for healing, but for some reason it did not seem the right thing to do. How strange. It just didn’t fit. Almost as if it were blasphemous to pray for healing, to be rid of despair, to be freed of the horror of bouncing from high to low. I am not called to pray for healing from this, only for strength to endure. This is because I believe that God still has much to teach me through this, and that some of what he will teach I can’t even yet begin to imagine” (130).

Crabb puts it this way, “on the spiritual journey, there are seasons when doing great requires that we feel awful... In their anguish, people on the spiritual journey abandon themselves to God. Eventually they discover their desire for Him is stronger than all their other desires, and in their seasons of misery when life disappoints and they fail, they seek Him more earnestly. Making their lives more comfortable and themselves more acceptable is a secondary concern” (125).

Through sorrow I am learning to seek God first. Sinful desires fall away when my attention is on Him. Even good things do not satisfy if they are not from His hand. I am reminded again that verses like Psalm 37:4, “Delight yourself in the Lord, and He will give you the desires of your heart,” and Matthew 6:33, “But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you” aren’t promises to give us all the good things we desire. Instead, when our delight is in God and we are seeking Him, then He is Himself all that we really desire. It’s not “seek God first and then seek the other things.” It’s “seek God alone and He will be all you really need.”

“For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong.” -2 Corinthians 12:10

Living Without Fear

While I was driving last week (about 19 hours on the road), I had the surreal experience of watching a police car pass me with its lights on to stop someone ahead of me. It wouldn’t have been so odd except that I never saw him coming up behind me. I wasn’t speeding, so I had no reason to be watching my mirrors. I have occasionally come upon a police car when I’ve been going a bit too fast, and then spent the next few miles watching my mirrors to see if he was coming after me. Thankfully I’ve never been pulled over.

That got me thinking about the fear of God. There are those who live in constant fear that God is going to “ticket” them for whatever they’ve done wrong lately. Some of those folks make confession a frequent practice just to be on the safe side. Martin Luther, before he came to understand God’s grace, was such a frequent confessor that he was basically told to lighten up! And some folks simply avoid church and religion altogether because they fear such condemnation. Those who are not believers are right to feel condemned. Apart from Christ they will receive the due punishment for their sin, and even the “smallest” sin against the Almighty God is worthy of death.

However, those who have put their faith in Christ for salvation can live in the grace and mercy of forgiveness. We don’t have to drive around watching our mirrors in fear of the “cosmic police.” Instead, we can rest assured that we are forgiven— past, present, and future. Yes, we should still confess our sins, but we don’t need to fear that we’ll be punished for our actions. As Jesus said, “The one who has bathed does not need to wash, except for his feet, but is completely clean” (John 13:10 ESV). Unconfessed sin tends to interfere with our relationship with God and hinders our ability to worship Him freely.

Isaiah 43:1-2 says, “Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through the fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you.” For the Christian, God is not the policeman waiting to catch us in a speed trap. He is also not the absentee landlord, leaving us to muddle along on our own while he’s on vacation in Alpha Centauri. He is the Good Shepherd (John 10), leading and protecting His sheep from harm. He is the loving Father, waiting to welcome His prodigal child home (Luke 15). He is the Bread of Life (John 6) and the Living Water (John 4), filling the deepest needs of His followers. He is the Resurrection and the Life (John 11), giving eternal security to those who are dead in their sins.

I find I need frequent reminders of who God is and is not. A book I read recently mentioned this classic hymn that is a great source of comfort in hard times:

How Firm a Foundation – attributed to John Keith (public domain)

How firm a foundation, ye saints of the Lord,
Is laid for your faith in His excellent word!
What more can He say than to you He hath said—
To you who for refuge to Jesus have fled?

“Fear not, I am with thee, oh, be not dismayed,
For I am thy God, and will still give thee aid;
I’ll strengthen thee, help thee, and cause thee to stand,
Upheld by My gracious, omnipotent hand.

“When through the deep waters I call thee to go,
The rivers of sorrow shall not overflow;
For I will be with thee thy trouble to bless,
And sanctify to thee thy deepest distress.

“When through fiery trials thy pathway shall lie,
My grace, all-sufficient, shall be thy supply;
The flame shall not harm thee; I only design
Thy dross to consume and thy gold to refine.

“The soul that on Jesus doth lean for repose,

I will not, I will not, desert to his foes;
That soul, though all hell should endeavor to shake,
I’ll never, no never, no never forsake.”

Unspoiled

I confess, I’ve become addicted to Downton Abbey, but I didn’t expect it to be a source of theological inspiration. This week’s episode had me thinking late into the night. Earlier in the season, Anna was raped but she refused to tell her husband. Finally John found out and talks to Anna about it. She says she is spoiled and dirty because of what happened to her. John’s response could have come straight from the mouth of Jesus, “You’re not spoiled to me. You are made higher and holier to me because of the suffering you have endured.” (That may not be quite verbatim since I didn’t record the episode.)

We may not use the language of “spoiled,” but anyone who has been sinned against in a significant way has had similar thoughts. Dirty, broken, wounded, victim, marked, abused, hurt, suffering, damaged, incomplete, ruined… They are all words that try to describe how we feel, but they barely scratch the surface. One author I read recently talked about feeling like she had a mark on her forehead inviting people to abuse her as others had. It seems as though the whole world ought to be able to see the scars we carry because they feel so huge to us. It’s as if we have a hole where our heart should be.

It’s extremely difficult then to realize that God doesn’t see us that way (nor do many people). Instead, suffering conforms us to the image of Christ. (See Romans 8:18-39.) In Philippians 3:10, Paul shares his desire “that I may know Him and the power of His resurrection, and may share in His sufferings, becoming like Him in His death.” On the cross, Jesus not only bore the sins of mankind but also the results of the sins against us.

“He was despised and rejected by men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief; as one from whom men hide their faces He was despised, and we esteemed Him not. Surely He has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows; yet we esteemed Him stricken, smitten by God, and afflicted. But He was wounded for our transgressions; He was crushed for our iniquities; upon Him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with His stripes we are healed.” –Isaiah 53:3-5

Jesus knows the full weight of the burdens we carry, because He has borne them Himself. He says to us, “You are not ruined to Me. You are made higher and holier because the suffering you have endured is making you like Me.”

In his book Shattered Dreams Larry Crabb writes:

“Shattered dreams open the door to better dreams, dreams that we do not properly value until the dreams that we improperly value are destroyed. Shattered dreams destroy false expectations, such as the ‘victorious’ Christian life with no real struggle or failure. They help us discover true hope. We need the help of shattered dreams to put us in touch with what we most long for, to create a felt appetite for better dreams. And living for the better dreams generates a new, unfamiliar feeling that we eventually recognize as joy.” (35)

Crabb points out that when we experience suffering, our tendency is to try to eliminate the pain by eliminating the desire for something better. But this is actually Buddhism, not Christianity. For the Christian, “The way to handle suffering is to discover your desire for God. Then everything, both good and bad, becomes redemptive. It moves us toward the God we desire” (72).

So the question is, are we allowing the pain and suffering of this world to refocus our desire on God and to make us more conformed to the image of Christ, or is it driving us away from relationship with the only One who can bring true healing? Likewise, does suffering push us into deeper relationship with people within the Body of Christ, or are we isolating ourselves from true community? As in Downton Abbey, pain and fear can cause us to cut off the relationships we need. But God keeps pursuing us in love, determined not to let us go too far. May we learn to seek the One who is seeking us.

“O God, You are my God; earnestly I seek You; my soul thirsts for you; my flesh faints for You, as in a dry and weary land where there is no water… Because Your steadfast love is better than life, my lips will praise You” (Psalm 63:1,3).

Wilderness Training

Before Christmas I heard a couple sermons that made references to the wilderness in Scripture, and those thoughts have continued to stick with me. There are several times when individuals or groups go through wilderness experiences in the Bible. Interestingly, many of these refer to the same general region in the Middle East. Contrary to our perceptions, the wilderness is not necessarily a bad place. Consider these experiences:

• Hagar goes out into the wilderness after Sarai casts her out of the house (Genesis 16). In the wilderness, God speaks to her, reassures her of His presence, and promises that her offspring will be multiplied. Her response is “You are a God of seeing. Truly here I have seen Him who looks after me.”
• Moses spends 40 years in the wilderness in training (Exodus 3). He encounters a burning bush and is commissioned to free the Israelites from Egypt. He has an extended conversation with God and he is reminded that God will work out all the details. All Moses has to do is obey.
• The Israelites spend 40 years in the wilderness as a result of their sin and failure to believe God (Numbers 14). While it was bad news for the generation that died in the wilderness, the next generation grew up learning to trust God to provide for them and to obey Him. They were in training both physically and spiritually during that time.
• David escapes into the wilderness when King Saul is seeking to kill him (1 Samuel 20). Though David starts out alone, it isn’t long before he has gathered a group of faithful men around him. While they waited for the day when David would be crowned king, they lived, worked, and worshiped together. Many of David’s psalms were written in the wilderness and they reflect his trust in God’s steadfast love.
• Elijah fled to the wilderness in fear of Jezebel (1 Kings 19). Elijah was ready to give up and die, but God has other plans for him. God provides food and drink for him, and then he gets to experience the presence of the Lord. God tells him there is work yet to be done, and reassures him that he is not alone. Elisha will soon be appointed to replace Elijah.
• John the Baptist was “a voice of one calling in the wilderness” (Matthew 3). John was a prophet in his own right, but he knew that his role was to point people to Jesus. Though crowds came out to see him, he did not become proud or lose his focus. I wonder if perhaps he experienced the “wilderness” more when he was thrown in prison? It was there that he began to doubt and Jesus sent word to remind him of the truth of who He was.
• Jesus was led by the Spirit into the wilderness for 40 days of prayer and fasting (Matthew 4). In the midst of His time in the wilderness, the devil came to tempt Jesus to abandon God’s plan by doing things a different way. But Jesus was single-minded in His purpose to obey God. Jesus successful in resisting every temptation so that He would be the perfect substitute for us on the cross. It was for the joy set before Him that He could endure.
• Paul also spent time in the wilderness before embarking on his teaching mission (Galatians 1). Though we don’t know exactly what Paul did in the wilderness or how long he was there, it seems likely that he was learning to listen to God. He was already learned in the Scriptures, but he had to change his thinking when he found out that Jesus was the Messiah. It was probably wise for him to step out of the spotlight as a killer of Christians before suddenly preaching the very word he had hated. He caused enough dissension as it was.

Wilderness experiences can be valuable times in our lives—times of physical training, talking to God, listening to God’s plans, being reassured of God’s presence and provision, learning obedience, and learning the truths of Scripture. The wilderness may look different for each of us—in the desert, in prison, in our homes, in sorrow and loss, in times of persecution or conflict, in times of hardship, etc. Sometimes we may not even realize we’re in the wilderness at first.

Our temptation is to get out of the wilderness as quickly as possible. We don’t want to endure difficult circumstances. The wilderness seems like a barren, unproductive place to dwell. We may tend to picture it as the Sahara desert, when in reality there are all kinds of provisions available to us. We may not see it, but we are never alone in our wilderness. Not only is God present and watching over us, but He has provided a community in the form of the Body of Christ.

This may be a good time to meditate on the wilderness experiences in the Bible. If we can remember what others have learned in the wilderness, we can be encouraged to seek God when we come to our own wilderness. Instead of looking for a way out, look for what God has to teach you. As usual, I’m preaching at myself here. Perhaps I’m a slow learner, but at least I haven’t been in the same place for 40 years yet!

Free to Be Loved

One of the old books I found on my bookshelves is Unconditional Love, by John Powell. He describes his “life principle” of unconditional love and what that would look like in reality (pages 70-73). As I read his comments, I began to hear much of it as God’s words to me. He writes:

“My decision is to love you and my commitment is to your true and lasting happiness. I am dedicated to your growth and fulfillment as a person... The gift of my love means this: I want to share with you whatever I have that is good. You did not win a contest or prove yourself worthy of this gift. It is not a question of deserving my love... The point is that I have chosen to give you my gift of love and you have chosen to love me...

“You can be whoever you are, express all your thoughts and feelings with absolute confidence. You do not have to be fearful that love will be taken away. You will not be punished for your openness or honesty. There is no admission price to my love, no rental fees, or installment payments to be made... I will not go back on my word to you. So feel free to be yourself, to tell me of your negative and positive reactions, of your warm and cold feelings... I will not reject you! I am committed to your growth and happiness. I will always love you.”

At times I have thought that perhaps God gets tired of hearing the same things from me over and over, just as I fear that people don’t want to hear the same old story. But as Powell points out, unconditional love accepts complete honesty. If we are holding back some part of ourselves out of fear, then we can never know that love “bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things” (1 Corinthians 13:7). If it is true that “perfect love casts out fear” (1 John 4:18), then we must not believe that we are truly loved if we are still living in fear. That’s true both in relationship with God and with others.

I suppose we’ve all read books or seen programs in which someone is keeping a secret from the person they love the most (such as this week’s episode of Downton Abbey). We’d like to step in and advise them to tell the truth. But we do the same things ourselves. It seems kinder, safer, or more loving to keep a painful secret when perhaps we would be better off being honest with those who do love us. I’m certainly not one to advise on that subject. In any case, God can handle the truth. He already knows our thoughts, so why should we try to hide them from Him? Nothing we can say or do will turn Him away from us.

The other point the Powell makes in the above quote is that unconditional love is committed to the good of the other person. God is committed to the growth and fulfillment of His children, and He wants to give us good things. But sometimes growth comes through hard times. We can’t understand the depths of God’s love if life is always easy and we never have to wrestle with trusting Him. Sometimes we’re like little children testing the boundaries of their parents’ love and patience. But unlike fallible humans, God’s love has no limits. He welcomes the prodigal, the wounded, the abused, the weak, and the doubting. And only God has the power to make “all things work together for good for those who are called according to His purpose” (Romans 8:28).

In the words of Annie Johnson Flint (public domain):

He giveth more grace as our burdens grow greater,
He sendeth more strength as our labors increase;
To added afflictions He addeth His mercy,
To multiplied trials He multiples peace.

Chorus:
His love has no limits, He grace has no measure,
His power has no boundary known unto men;
For out of His infinite riches in Jesus
He giveth, and giveth, and giveth again.

When we have exhausted our store of endurance,
When our strength has failed ere the day is half done,
When we reach the end of our hoarded resources
Our Father’s full giving is only begun.

Fear not that thy need shall exceed His provision,
Our God ever yearns His resources to share;
Lean hard on the arm everlasting, availing;
The Father both thee and thy load will upbear.

Father, Forgive

It happened again—two unrelated books mentioned a related idea that got me thinking. One was The Great House of God, by Max Lucado, and the other was Her Mother’s Hope, by Francine Rivers. The phrases that triggered my brain were “Father, forgive them for they know not what they do,” and “Forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors.”

It’s hard enough to forgive someone who recognizes their sin and asks for forgiveness. But it can be even harder to forgive someone who either doesn’t realize they’ve hurt us or else refuses to confess the wrong. When Jesus was on the cross, He forgave those who enabled the crucifixion, those who nailed Him to the cross, the mockers, those who gambled for His clothes—all kinds of people who had no idea what they had done. Whether they were following the crowd, following orders, or following manmade laws, Jesus forgave them unilaterally. We could learn from His example.

We do all kinds of hurtful things out of habit, learned from poor examples, trying to protect our own wounds, or just because we’re too busy and distracted to consider others’ needs. When that coworker says something abusive yet again, perhaps he’s afraid of losing another job to a competitor. When someone cuts us off in traffic, perhaps she’s late to a doctor’s appointment. When your parent disparages you in public, perhaps that’s how they were treated themselves. Can you give them a little grace and extend forgiveness even though they don’t ask for it or think they need it?

This is more than just making excuses for someone. There are times when confrontation is appropriate and necessary. If we don’t realize we’ve hurt someone, how can we learn to change our behavior in the future? But at the same time, we can’t go around confronting everyone who acts without thinking. Some Christians are great at keeping records. They may say, “Well, that’s just Sally being Sally.” They aren’t really forgiving, but are just adding it to their list of grievances.

I like Lucado’s illustration—if we refuse to forgive someone, we are the ones left guarding the jail cell while they may not even know we’ve imprisoned them within our hearts. Forgiving others frees us to get on with our lives. The greater the wounds we’ve received, the harder it is to forgive, but also more necessary. Lewis Smedes wrote in Forgive and Forget, “When you release the wrongdoer from the wrong, you cut a malignant tumor out of your inner life. You set a prisoner free, but you discover that the real prisoner was yourself.”

Charles Stanley wrote in Landmines in the Path of the Believer, “We are to forgive so that we may enjoy God’s goodness without feeling the weight of anger burning deep within our hearts. Forgiveness does not mean we recant the fact that what happened to us was wrong. Instead, we roll our burdens onto the Lord and allow Him to carry them for us.”

It’s been my experience that forgiveness is both a one-time event and an ongoing process. We can make a single choice to forgive a person, but learning to let go of the hurt can take a lifetime. When the pain comes back or Satan tries to goad us with it, we have to remind ourselves that we have indeed forgiven the person and handed that burden over to God. The same can be true of learning to forgive ourselves as God has forgiven us. Even when the wounds are healed, there are often scars that will remain. Those scars can either remind us of the pain or remind us of the goodness and faithfulness of God.

“Put on then, as God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, compassionate hearts, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience, bearing with one another and, if one has a complaint against another, forgiving each other; as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive” (Colossians 3:12-13 ESV).

God Is...

One of the books I got for Christmas was Max Lucado’s The Great House of God, and chapter 3 talks about some of the names of God. That made me think about how I have understood God in recent months. What names have I known Him by? 

The ten names of Jehovah in the Old Testament are:

·        Jehovah-ropheka- God that heals you
·         Jehovah-meqaddeshkem- God who sanctifies you
·         Jehovah-tsabaoth- God of hosts
·         Jehovah-elyon- God most high
·         Jehovah-roi- God my shepherd
·         Jehovah-jireh- God will provide
·         Jehovah-nissi- God is my banner
·         Jehovah-shalom- God is peace
·         Jehovah-shammah- God is there
·         Jehovah-tsidkenu- God is our righteousness 

I can identify God with many of these names. He has been at work sanctifying me, while at the same time declaring me righteous in Christ. He has reminded me of His presence and peace in difficult times. He has provided for my needs even before I know what they are. He has led me in His paths when I am inclined to go my own way. He has brought healing spiritually, if not in other ways. 

God has also revealed Himself to me by other names, also found in Scripture. He is my Comforter in suffering. He is my Counselor when life is confusing. He is my Friend when I feel alone and abandoned in the world. He is my Father, who disciplines those He loves. He is my Advocate when I have sinned. He is my Strength when I am weak. He is the Truth when the enemy tries to convince me of lies. He is the Prince of Peace when the world is filled with war. He is my Light when I’m walking in darkness. And He is my Life now and forever. 

This has been an interesting and encouraging exercise in remembering who God is and how He has been at work in the past year or so. It’s easy to go through day after day or year after year and not really think about these things. In doing so, we neglect to give proper praise and glory to the One who is with us through it all. Perhaps we should all take time on a regular basis for focused remembering, meditating on the goodness of the Lord. 

Psalm 77:11-14 (ESV)

I will remember the deeds of the LORD;
Yes, I will remember Your wonders of old.
I will ponder all Your work, and meditate on your mighty deeds.
Your way, O God, is holy.
What god is great like our God?
You are the God who works wonders;
You have made known Your might among the peoples.