Learning to Count

Recently I read the following verses: “So teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom... Make us glad for as many days as You have afflicted us, and for as many years as we have seen evil” (Psalm 90:12, 15 ESV). That led me to consider how we learn to number our days. I’m sure we’ve all said, “Time flies when you’re having fun,” and we know how time seems to drag when things aren’t going well due to pain, stress, or other difficulties. Is it possible that we learn to number our days when time is slowed down by suffering? That makes sense when you consider verse 15. Moses, the author of this psalm, certainly understood times of difficulty. I’m sure that 40 years spent wandering in the wilderness didn’t pass in the blink of an eye. He may as well have kept 40 yearly calendars and marked off the days one by one.

John Piper writes, “The psalmist said in Psalm 119:71, ‘It is good for me that I was afflicted, that I might learn Thy statutes.’ He does not say it was easy or fun or pleasant. In retrospect he simply says, ‘It was good for me.’ I was reading a book by a Scottish minister last week. This James Stewart said, ‘In love’s service, only the wounded soldiers can serve.’ That’s why I believe some of you are being prepared for some precious service of love right now. Because you are being wounded. Do not think that your wound has come to you apart from God’s gracious design. Remember His word: ‘See now that I, even I, am He, and there is no god besides Me... I wound and I heal...’ (Deuteronomy 32:39).” (http://www.desiringgod.org/articles/only-wounded-soldiers-can-serve)

Some lessons can be learned through a life of ease, but far more come through challenges and difficulties, or “opportunities” as one friend insists on calling them. Even in simple situations, it usually takes some difficulty before change looks preferable to the status quo. When computers or cars malfunction, we’re more likely to consider investing in something new than we are if everything is running smoothly. And when life trips us up, we start investigating what we might need to learn or do differently to restore a sense of order.

I’m not sure this is entirely good news. Learning to number our days seems to come most clearly from abiding through suffering. But it does lead to a “heart of wisdom,” which is something I think we’d all like to acquire. Affliction helps us to learn God’s statutes, trust Him more fully, depend on Him more dearly, communicate with Him more frequently, and love Him more openly.

Sometimes suffering comes from our own mistakes, and hopefully we do learn wisdom from those mistakes! But wisdom can come through many forms of suffering. It may be the young man who survives a bad car accident and now treasures his life and his family more than ever. It may be the father who suddenly loses his job and now has to determine what “luxuries” his family can do without. It can come through losing a loved one and being faced with the reality that eternal life is found only in Christ.

There are endless scenarios that lead to wisdom, but rarely does it come out of the clear blue sky. Even the wise King Solomon faced his share of struggles, questions, and mistakes. Although it’s definitely a good idea to pray for wisdom and seek wisdom as Proverbs tells us, it’s also a bit frightening to consider what it may take for that wisdom to develop. As many have said, if you pray for patience, you will face situations that try your patience. And if you pray for wisdom, you may face some situations that put you at the end of your rope. But when we come to the end of ourselves, then God has room to step in and do what He wants.

So pray for wisdom, but be careful what you ask for!

Misfits Fit to Serve

It seems to be a trend lately that the Sunday sermons correlate quite nicely with something I’m reading. After hearing “Jesus Calls Ordinary People,” I read the following from J.I. Packer in Never Beyond Hope:

“God, we realize, can get on very well without any of us. So it should give us an overwhelming sense of privilege that not only has he made us, loved and saved us but also he takes us as his working partners for advancing his plans. Thus Paul can call his colleagues and himself ‘Christ’s ambassadors’ and ‘God’s fellow workers’ (2 Cor. 3:20; 6:1), and tell us all to see ourselves in our own sphere as servants, ministers and workmen of God... And none of us is excluded, for Scripture shows God using the oddest, rawest, most lopsided and flawed of his children to further his work, at the same time as he carries on his sanctifying strategy for getting them into better moral and spiritual shape. This is a fact of enormous encouragement to sensitive souls who feel they are not fit to serve him” (18).

It does make you wonder why! When God is all-powerful, why does He enlist the help of failures and bumblers, the naïve and idiotic, self-centered and sinful people He created? I just happened to think of the Island of Misfit toys in the TV story of Rudolph. We’re all a bunch of misfits and nitwits, but for some reason God calls us to follow Him and to join Him in the work He is doing. Perhaps the deeper question is this—knowing that we would all be so flawed, why did He create us to begin with? Elyse Fitzpatrick comments,

“There, in time, before time began, the Trinity existed in perfect happiness within his person. He was not lonely; he never needed anything... But then, in overflowing love, grace, and mercy, God chose to make a covenant within himself... In love God made mankind, knowing what it would cost him, knowing all about Bethlehem and Calvary and all our sins before they even existed” (Found in Him, 30-31).

He created us in love. He redeemed us in love. He called us in love. And He gives us the ministry of loving one another. “He chose us in Him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and blameless before Him. In love He predestined us for adoption as sons through Jesus Christ, according to the purpose of His will... as a plan for the fullness of time, to unite all things in Him, things in heaven and things on earth” (Ephesians 1:4-5,10 ESV). So God’s grand plan, cooked up before time began, was that He would create people who would one day be united with Him in love, even though it takes a rather convoluted path to get us there.

J.I. Packer is right that this should be an encouraging truth for us. It should also be astounding, humbling, empowering, and perhaps even a little frightening to realize that the Creator of the universe created us, loved us, and then called us to follow Him. It’s a distinct privilege, but it’s also an enormous responsibility—one that we would have no hope of fulfilling if it weren’t for the power of God made available to us and through us. On our own we could never please God, but because He has called us, He has also made possible the work He calls us to do. (See Hebrews 13:21.)

I like the prayer with which Packer closes his chapter on Samson (35):

“Holy Father, you know us, you have loved us and redeemed us through the blood-shedding of your Son, and exalted us to the glorious dignity of being your children and heirs. Keep us mindful of our privileged identity, and teach us to live lives that are Christlike in their maturity of faith and hope, their consistency in aiming to please you, and their humility in looking to you for the help we need at all times. Make us honest in recognizing our weaknesses of character and conduct, and in repenting of our sins. Lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil. So may we follow your servant Samson in contending for the welfare of your people, and by your grace go beyond him in self-denial and purity of heart and life. Through Jesus Christ, our Savior and our Lord. Amen.”

Safe with the Shepherd

I’ve been thinking about Psalm 23 since the sermon Sunday. (And since Pastor Matt didn’t post a sermon recap, I guess I can say whatever I want.) At the same time, I’ve been reading Desperate for Hope, by Bruce W. Martin, and he just happens to have a few comments on that psalm:

“We embrace the promises of God about abundant life, but overlook (or ignore) the clear teachings in Scripture that guarantee suffering as well. Sometimes these promises are right next to each other, in the same passage of Scripture, but we sort of mentally edit them out. For instances in Psalm 23...

-God is my shepherd. Claim. I’m all about that!
-I don’t lack anything. Claim. That sounds good.
-He gives me green pastures to rest in. Claim. Resting in comfort is good
-He leads me beside still waters. Claim. No reason to risk drowning in whitewater.
-He restores my soul. Unclaim! Sounds like my soul could be in bad shape.
-I’ll walk through the valley of the shadow of death. Unclaim! Sounds a little scary.
-He’ll provide when I am surrounded by enemies. Unclaim! I'd rather not have any enemies.

“You get the picture. It’s not that we specifically, consciously ‘unclaim’ those things, we just read over them glibly without really thinking about the implications” (p. 107).

I don’t believe we spend much time thinking about the condition of our souls. Yes, we want to have our soul “saved” and have the assurance of eternal life, but what about daily life? We want to have our sins forgiven, but we don’t give much thought to God’s process of purifying us through sanctification.

I was thinking about this recently while reading Matthew 22 and the parable of the wedding feast. I used to think this was a rather unfair story. If you go out and invite people to a wedding, why would you then throw them out because they aren’t dressed for it? But if you read this alongside Matthew 7:21-23, you get the picture that even though some people receive the “invitation” to eternal life, and maybe even think they are doing good things for the kingdom, they never really acknowledge their need of a Savior and allow Him to clothe them in His righteousness. I suspect many churchgoers are looking forward to heaven without ever submitting to Jesus’ lordship over their lives. They may be startled to find out they aren’t “dressed” for the occasion.

Several times in the book Martin states, “God is more intent on perfecting us through trouble than on protecting us from trouble.” Or to put it in Psalm 23 language, He’s more concerned with the condition and destination of our soul than with avoiding the dark valleys. Speaking as one of the sheep, there have been plenty of times when I’ve questioned the Shepherd’s wisdom in taking me along certain paths. I’ve wondered if He is really doing what’s best, or maybe He’s off looking for a lost sheep somewhere while I stumble along on my own.

Psalm 23 and John 10 are reassuring reminders that the Good Shepherd really does know what He’s doing. He cares for each of the sheep (not just the flock as a whole); He knows the terrain and leads the sheep to the good places for food and water; and He knows that the dark valleys are safe enough to pass through. But the Shepherd doesn’t bother explaining to the sheep where they are going, how they’re going to get there, or why this path is necessary. We have to trust that He has it under control and that the end result will be for our best. Only when we truly trust the Shepherd will we find that peace that comes from dwelling in His presence and under His care.

“But I trust in You, O Lord; I say, ‘You are my God.’ My times are in Your hand…” (Psalm 31:14-15a).

Out of Control

Being out of control is rarely an enjoyable experience. Whether it is losing control on snowy roads (as I did a month ago) and watching the guardrail slide closer and closer, or facing unexpected or unwanted circumstances such as illness or unemployment, or even dealing with the inevitable results of aging, there are a lot of times when we just have to accept things that are beyond our control. And being out of control can create all kinds of emotional turmoil—fear, anger, depression, etc.

One of the books I’m reading currently is A New Kind of Normal: Hope-Filled Choices When Life Turns Upside Down, by Carol Kent. She shares her own story of having a son serving a life sentence for murder, but she also draws lessons from the life of Mary as she watched Jesus grow and eventually be crucified. There are many good points and quotes in the book, and one that stood out to me was this:

“I wish I could tell you I prayed that prayer of relinquishment and suddenly transformed into a woman with absolute trust in God for her son’s future, but that wouldn’t be true. I have to pray some form of that prayer every day, and sometimes multiple times a day. When you are living in a new kind of normal, relinquishment is an action step that often must be done daily as we get up, let go of our control over a person or a complicated situation, and move in a forward direction. It is never easy. It is never routine. It is hard work. But it is necessary.” (149)

I don’t know about you, but giving up control is not something that I really want to do. I like to control my environment, my work, my relationships, my emotions, etc. I suppose that’s one reason I’ve never wanted to get married—adding another person to my life also adds to my lack of control over all aspects of life. (I won’t even mention having kids!) I think we grow up with the illusion (or delusion) that the more we mature, the more control we’ll have. But it seems like God is shattering that illusion in my life. I’m realizing day by day how little I actually do have control over. And for a recovering perfectionist, that’s a scary realization.

I hadn’t really thought about it before, but there are plenty of examples in Scripture of people who were not in control of their circumstances—Joseph, Job, Peter, Paul, and yes, Mary. They went through some very difficult situations with varying degrees of faith in God. Carol Kent makes this observation, “Sometimes, when we have loss upon loss, we think we deserve to be in control of certain outcomes, if only to protect ourselves from additional hurt and pain. It seems the most irrational thing we can do is to let go one more time. We battle with conflicting emotions and ‘duke it out with God,’ sometimes through prayer, but occasionally by being obstinate... Letting go of our grip on predictable results and trusting God with our heart offering is one of the most challenging choices we make” (160).

As I’ve mentioned before, one of my often repeated prayers is “I do trust You, God. I know You are in control.” Sometimes that is an affirmation of my faith, but sometimes it is a reminder to me of the faith I should have. Sometimes I can willingly relinquish control to Him, but sometimes I only realize after the fact that I’ve lost control. When that happens, the fight to regain control is usually worse than just accepting the situation. Sleepless nights, anxiety, and anger don’t really accomplish anything besides making me feel worse. Perhaps one of these days I’ll learn to yield control to the One who is already in control. But this is a hard lesson to learn, and it doesn’t seem to get any easier the longer the lesson continues. And somehow I have a feeling that this isn’t the only lesson on God’s syllabus right now. In fact, I could name several that have been occurring simultaneously. In the meantime, I’ll close with Kent’s prayer:

“God, I release to You what I cannot control. I hold [this situation] with open hands. The Bible says Your angels set up a circle of protection around us while we pray. I need that circle right now, not just for protection but for comfort... As I relinquish my control over my dreams, I embrace Your new kind of normal for my life. Amen.” (159-160)

Words that Wound, Words that Heal

As I’ve been thinking about Sunday’s sermon on Wisdom & Words from Proverbs 4:20-27, a couple themes have come to mind. During the sermon I was thinking about the power of words to wound people. My first thought was of the verbal bashing that many of us endured in school from our peers. It seemed like everyone carried a sword with which to cut down anyone who was different in any way, in hopes of making themselves look a little taller. I remember a quote I read recently that basically said bullies are people who have been bullied. And unfortunately, a lot of that bullying begins at home with parents who are verbally abusive to their kids. (And those parents were probably abused as kids too.) The damage the tongue can do to a child is heartbreaking, both for that child and for those who truly love them.

Even good parents can cause wounds by the words they say or by the tone they use. Good words used in the wrong way can be hurtful. I think of a word that most people would consider a term of endearment, but there’s nothing endearing about it when it makes you feel about two inches tall. I don’t believe most parents intend to belittle their children, but when frustration or exasperation strikes, words come out the wrong way. What’s even more discouraging is that most of us don’t learn from our own mistakes or the mistakes of others. Even though we’ve all been hurt by careless words, very few people learn to tame the tongue (James 3).

On the flip side, there are words that bring life, healing, joy, and hope to the hurting soul. “I love you.” “I’m praying for you.” “You are special.” “God is at work in you.” These words and many others reflect vital truths that we all need to hear more often. Obviously, they can’t be repeated flippantly or thoughtlessly. Words like this require some degree of intimacy and vulnerability. The people who have the most power to either wound or heal with their words are the people we are closest to. A compliment from a stranger might be nice, but it doesn’t have the lasting impact of a kind word from a friend. I can testify to the life-giving and lifesaving power of words from those who have expressed their love and concern for me. And without exception, those people have been faithful both in praying for me and in reminding me of God’s love.

I’ve gone back to Philippians 4:8 (which I’d already forgotten was on my January “resolutions” list): “Whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things” (ESV). I hadn’t considered until just now the fact that some of these terms refer to verbal actions. If something is commendable or praiseworthy, it would be a good idea to commend or praise the people involved! I wonder how different our world would be if Christians would take this verse as a command to not only think about these things, but to speak about them as well? Just thinking back over recent days, I could come up with several examples of our failure to do so. If we were busy speaking and thinking about these good things, it wouldn’t be nearly so hard to guard our hearts against the words that wound. We’ve all heard the saying, “If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all.” If that were heeded, the world would be a lot quieter place!

Although I am not one to speak a lot of words, I certainly think plenty of them. And I know that what I think is often not true, honorable, just, pure, lovely, commendable, excellent, or praiseworthy. I know what I need to work on, and I’m sure I’m not alone in that endeavor.

“Let every person be quick to hear, slow to speak, slow to anger... If anyone thinks he is religious and does not bridle his tongue but deceives his heart, this person’s religion is worthless” (James 1:19,26).

Come Rest

I’ve started reading through the New Testament and this morning I read Matthew 11. I realized anew how artificial the chapter, verse, and section divisions can be at times. I know I’ve tended to view the Gospels in particular as a series of unrelated stories. My Bible (ESV) divides this chapter into three sections that at first glance don’t seem to be connected. But when I got to verses 28-30 I started wondering what they had to do with the preceding verses:

“Come to Me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you, and learn from Me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy, and My burden is light.”

In the first six verses of the chapter, John’s disciples come to Jesus and ask if He really is the Messiah. In answer, Jesus tells them to look at His works—people healed, the dead raised, and the good news preached. Then in verses 7-19, Jesus asks the crowds why they followed John the Baptist, and He reminds them of the evidence that John was a prophet who was himself prophesied by Malachi.

In verses 20-24, Jesus denounces the people who saw His miracles and yet refused to believe in Him. Then He prays aloud in verses 25-27 in a way that seems to dig in the goad a little deeper. My loose translation is, “God has made it so obvious that even children can understand who I am, but you ‘wise’ men still missed it.”

It’s only after these declarations and proofs of His identity that He says, “Come to Me.” This is not just some disjointed thought or a random word of encouragement. It is because He is the Messiah, Savior, and Son of God that Jesus can say He will give us rest. No one else can relieve the burdens of our hearts and souls. And when He says His yoke is easy, it’s not just an invitation to join Him in His work. He’s just gotten through telling John’s disciples that He is doing the impossible by the power of God. We can’t simply join His work, because we have nothing to contribute on our own. But we get to hand Him our burdens and watch Him at work.

As the Apostle John reminds us, “The Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen His glory” (John 1:14). His glory, power, and majesty are reminders of who He is and who we aren’t! We aren’t the ones with the strength to carry every burden. And in John 15 Jesus declares that He is the Vine, and we’re just branches depending on His resources. I read those verses recently as saying, “I AM the Vine, so stop trying to be the vine yourself!” Abiding in Him is the prerequisite for bearing fruit. It’s His work, not ours. (As a side note, John 15:7 says that abiding is also the prerequisite to answered prayer.)

In writing about Matthew 11, Max Lucado writes, “I wonder, how many burdens is Jesus carrying for us that we know nothing about? We’re aware of some. He carries our sin. He carries our shame. He carries our eternal debt. But are there others? Has he lifted fears before we felt them? Has he carried our confusion so we wouldn’t have to? Those times when we have been surprised by our own sense of peace? Could it be that Jesus has lifted our anxiety onto his shoulders and placed a yoke of kindness on ours?” (A Love Worth Giving, p. 27).

You’ve probably heard the illustration of a boy “helping” his father with some job, like carrying the end of the board. He isn’t really contributing to the effort, and he has no idea how much weight his father is actually bearing for him. But he wants to help because he wants to spend time with dad.

So how does this work in practical life? First, we need to remind ourselves of who God is—He’s in control of all things and He’s also our loving Father. That alone can be great encouragement when the burdens of life start to get heavy. In a recent sermon, Mark Driscoll* made the comment that if you’re facing a particular temptation or trying time, take heart in knowing that God knows you are strong enough to bear it when you rely on Him.

Second, we need to continuously turn our burdens over to God, making a conscious effort to stop worrying, analyzing, and planning. I confess I’m not very good at doing this on a consistent basis. But in my written prayers I see the theme repeated, “God, I don’t understand this and I don’t know what You are doing, but I trust You anyway.” David’s psalms are great examples of such prayers. Worship songs are another avenue of redirecting our thoughts. Here is one that I’ve listened to a lot in recent weeks, “Peace Be Still” by Rush of Fools. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3UDvvlhJGME

May we find our rest in His strength and steadfast love.

“Give ear to my prayer, O God, and hide not yourself from my plea for mercy! Attend to me, and answer me; I am restless in my complaint… But I call to God, and the Lord will save me... Cast your burden on the Lord, and He will sustain you; He will never permit the righteous to be moved... I will trust in You” (Psalm 55:1-2, 16, 22-23).

*This blog was written before Mark Driscoll's downfall. I do not endorse him in any way.

It's in His Hands

As I've been meditating on Psalm 139 for several days, one thing has become more clear to me, and that is the fact that God knows all things and is present in all things. 

In verses 7-10, whether I intentionally flee from Him in guilt and shame, or whether circumstances seem to isolate me against my own desires, still God is there and is never outside the reach of my voice. In other psalms (such as 5:3 and 10:17), the psalmist reiterates the fact the God hears us when we call. Isaiah 59:1 says "Surely the arm of the Lord is not too short to save, nor His ear too dull to hear" (NIV).

The next few verses of Psalm 139 are a reminder that God sees what happens in darkness. I had previously thought of this just in terms of trying to hide from God, but lately it's become apparent that this also refers to the darkness of a sinful world, as well as the pain of brokenness. When the darkness is overwhelming, still God sees, hears and responds. 

As in verses 10-16, my recent posts have already talked about the fact that God has created me as I am and He doesn't make mistakes. 

Ultimately, this psalm is a great encouragement that God is in control. As we see in the life of Job, as well as John 10:29, our times are in His hands and nothing comes against us that is not known and allowed by God. This hymn is a reminder of that fact:

Day by Day- Karolina Sandell-Berg (public domain)

Day by day, and with each passing moment,

Strength I find, to meet my trials here;

Trusting in my Father’s wise bestowment,

I’ve no cause for worry or for fear.

He Whose heart is kind beyond all measure

Gives unto each day what He deems best—

Lovingly, its part of pain and pleasure,

Mingling toil with peace and rest.

Every day, the Lord Himself is near me

With a special mercy for each hour;

All my cares He fain would bear, and cheer me,

He Whose Name is Counselor and Pow’r.

The protection of His child and treasure

Is a charge that on Himself He laid;

“As thy days, thy strength shall be in measure,”

This the pledge to me He made.

Help me then in every tribulation

So to trust Thy promises, O Lord,

That I lose not faith’s sweet consolation

Offered me within Thy holy Word.

Help me, Lord, when toil and trouble meeting,

E’er to take, as from a father’s hand,

One by one, the days, the moments fleeting,

Till I reach the promised land.