Two Gardens

The following was influenced by this coming week’s Sunday school lesson from The Gospel Project.

It started in a garden: “You may surely eat of every tree of the garden, but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat, for in the day that you eat of it you shall surely die” (Genesis 2:16-17 ESV). Adam and Eve knew the ground rules and the consequences.

But along came a question: “[The serpent] said to the woman, ‘Did God actually say, “You shall not eat of any tree in the garden”? …You will not surely die…’ She took of its fruit and ate, and she also gave some to her husband who was with her, and he ate” (Genesis 3:1-6). Doubt and disobedience entered into the picture.

The result was separation from fellowship with God: “And they heard the sound of the Lord God walking in the garden in the cool of the day, and the man and his wife hid themselves from the presence of the Lord… But the Lord God called to the man and said to him, ‘Where are you?’” (Genesis 3:8-9). The consequences still impact us today.

But years later in another garden, another man made a different decision. Jesus knew what was coming: “See, we are going up to Jerusalem. And the Son of Man will be delivered over to the chief priests and scribes, and they will condemn Him to death and deliver Him over to the Gentiles to be mocked and flogged and crucified, and He will be raised on the third day” (Matthew 20:18-19).

He faced the same choice—to trust God’s plan or to seek His own way: “Father, if You are willing, remove this cup from me. Nevertheless, not My will, but Yours be done” (Luke 22:42). His choice also created separation from the Father, but it was temporary. “My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?” (Mark 15:34). Through His death, He reversed the consequences that came out of the first garden. “Since therefore the children share in flesh and blood, He Himself likewise partook of the same things, that through death He might destroy the one who has the power of death, that is, the devil, and deliver all those who through fear of death were subject to lifelong slavery” (Hebrews 2:14-15). He made the way for us to be restored to the original relationship God desires with His children.

In our natural, fleshly way we’ve all chosen the strategy of the first garden, seeking something more than what God has promised. But in Christ we are enabled to choose obedience even when it is hard. “If anyone would come after Me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow Me. For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for My sake will save it” (Luke 9:23-24).

We can often get the idea that the Christian life is supposed to be easy. I wish it were easier, but Jesus said it was a daily choice to pick up the cross, not a daily picnic. Because of that first garden experience, life has been filled with toil, conflict, and pain. That part won’t be relieved in this lifetime, but we have the choice to do it God’s way or our own way each day. Which way will you choose today?

“Choose this day whom you will serve… But as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord” (Joshua 24:15).

© 2018 Dawn Rutan. Unless otherwise indicated all images are copyright free from pixabay.com.

Worth It All

Three authors I’ve read recently have said similar things:

“He would rather go to hell for you than go to heaven without you” (Max Lucado, And the Angels Were Silent, 155).

“To lose us was too great a pain for God to bear, and so he took it upon himself to rescue us” (John Eldredge, Waking the Dead, 61).

“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” (Hebrews 12:2 ESV).

Have you ever thought about the fact that the joy of granting us salvation and reconciliation to God made the cross bearable for Jesus? He endured hours of unimaginable torture in order to give us eternal life. God didn’t have to give us the ability to choose sin, but He did. God didn’t have to send His Son to die for us, but He did. God could have left us as mortal creatures with just one short life to follow Him.

Dennis Jernigan wrote:

“He gave His Son, Jesus, to bear the punishment and pay the debt we owed because of our sin. He rose that we might rise from the death of sin in our own lives. He gave us a free will and man sinned. It is we who separated ourselves from God. He did not separate Himself from us. We are the lost ones. He is the One Who finds us!” (Daily Devotions for Kingdom Seekers, Sept. 7).

If I were God, I don’t think I would have done it this way. I would probably have made a perfect paradise from the beginning and skipped all the drama of sin and redemption. I have to assume that God’s plan maximizes the glory He receives. Perfect, sinless creatures have their place, but they can’t express gratitude for salvation if they have nothing to be saved from. As the old song says, Amazing Grace is one song the angels cannot sing.

I don’t know why He did it like He did, though as one of the creatures in this fallen world I’m certainly glad that this is not the end of our story. I can’t begin to fathom a love that says, “This is the perfect way to create this world. All this pain and trouble will be worth it all just so My chosen people can be made worthy to dwell with Me forever.” Somehow, in His sovereign wisdom, God decided this was the best plan. All we can do is give thanks.

“How precious is Your steadfast love, O God! The children of mankind take refuge in the shadow of Your wings” (Psalm 36:7).

“Salvation belongs to our God who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb! …Blessing and glory and wisdom and thanksgiving and honor and power and might be to our God forever and ever” (Rev. 7:10, 12).

© 2018 Dawn Rutan. Unless otherwise indicated all images are copyright free from pixabay.com.

Weary and Burdened

I read this last night in The Sacred Romance by Brent Curtis and John Eldredge, and it spoke to where I feel myself to be right now.

“‘Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest,’ says Jesus. Most of us think of spiritual progress as requiring us to do more, even as our heart cries out to us to lay our burdens down. We renew our efforts at Bible study, Scripture memory, and Christian service, fearing that we will be discovered in our weakness and need… So many of our contemporary churches operate on this same system of guilt. When our people are crying out for communion and rest, we ask them to teach another Sunday school class. When they falter under the load, we admonish them with Scripture on serving others. One wonders what would happen if all activity motivated by this type of guilt were to cease for six months. Much of organized Christianity would collapse even as the Pharisees saw happen to their own religious system” (168-170).

There’s a lot of truth to that. I wonder if many of us (individually and collectively) are simply trying to do too much? We see the struggles of our churches and ministries and we feel a vague sense of guilt about not being able to do all that we believe God has called us to do—from the “little” things like staffing the nursery to the bigger picture of evangelism, discipleship, etc. If it’s true that in many churches 10% of the people do 90% of the work, those 10% can easily burn themselves out trying to keep things going.

If Jesus has promised rest to those who come to Him, why does rest feel like a foreign concept? Why is exhaustion so close at hand? Why does guilt seem to be such a big motivator? Somehow I think we’ve imagined that the Apostle Paul’s description of his ministry is supposed to be ours as well: “by great endurance, in afflictions, hardships, calamities, beatings, imprisonments, riots, labors, sleepless nights, hunger” (2 Corinthians 6:4-5; see also 11:25-29). I don’t know how Paul did it, but I don’t have the physical, mental, or emotional stamina to do even a fraction of what he did.

Today I read this in an article from John Piper:

“These illnesses may come, and we still win. The sickness may come, senility may come, and we still win. It is possible for the unhealthy to win the fight against unbelief because the fight is against lost hope, lost faith, not against lost health… The fight is a fight of faith. It’s not a fight to get out of bed; it’s a fight to rest in God. It’s not a fight to keep all the powers of youth, but to trust in the power of God. The race is run against doubt in God’s goodness and love for us. It’s a fight to stay satisfied in God despite the broken hips and lost sight and failed memory and inexplicable fatigue… The finishing line is crossed in the end not by a burst of human energy, but by collapsing into the arms of God. And by all means, let those of us who have any energy left remember that we are called upon to, as Paul says, ‘encourage the fainthearted, help the weak, be patient with them all’ (1 Thessalonians 5:14).”

So for all of us who feel weary and burdened by ministry and by life, I offer the encouragement that Jesus offered, “Come to Me and rest.” He didn’t say, “Come on, you can do five more tasks today, share the Gospel with one person every day, attend three more church events this week, and be the perfect parent, pastor, and teacher!” Jesus understands weariness. After all, He was the one who fell asleep in a boat in the midst of a storm.

It’s okay that “even youths shall faint and be weary, and young men shall fall exhausted” (Isaiah 40:30), because “The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He does not faint or grow weary” (40:28). When we collapse into bed tonight, God is still in control. May we find rest in His embrace.

“My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth… He who keeps you will not slumber… The Lord will keep your going out and your coming in from this time forth and forevermore” (Psalm 121:2, 3, 8 ESV).

© 2018 Dawn Rutan. Unless otherwise indicated all images are copyright free from pixabay.com.

Desire and Hope

“O Lord, You hear the desire of the afflicted; You will strengthen their heart; You will incline Your ear” (Psalm 10:17 ESV).

As I read this verse this week, I started thinking about the many different desires I have for myself and for others—spiritual, relational, vocational, physical—some small, some more grand. I wrote several down in my prayer journal. I’m sure we all have good desires in every area of our lives. David and the other psalmists wrote often of our desires:

• “May He grant you your heart’s desire and fulfill all your plans!” (Ps. 20:4).
• “Delight yourself in the Lord, and He will give you the desires of your heart” (Ps. 37:4).
• “Whom have I in heaven but You? And there is nothing on earth that I desire besides You” (Ps. 73:25).
• “You open Your hand; You satisfy the desire of every living thing… He fulfills the desire of those who fear Him; He also hears their cry and saves them” (Ps. 145:16, 19).

It is encouraging to remember that God knows all those desires, and that He knows best how to fulfill our desires in His own time and way. No, He won’t give us everything we want, but He will give us what He deems best. We have reason to hold on to hope, because God listens to our hearts and keeps us in His hand.

Even if we don’t see our desires fulfilled in this lifetime, in eternity we will find all good things. John Eldredge wrote:

“Desire cannot live without hope. Yet we can only hope for what we desire. There simply must be something more, something out there on the road ahead of us, that offers the life we prize. To sustain the life of the heart, the life of deep desire, we desperately need to possess a clearer picture of the life that lies before us... When we are convinced that something delicious is about to be ours, we are free to live in expectation, and it draws us on in anticipation” (The Journey of Desire, 105, 163-164).

Augustine put it this way:

“The entire life of a good Christian is in fact an exercise of holy desire. You do not yet see what you long for, but the very act of desiring prepares you, so that when He comes you may see and be utterly satisfied” (Commentary on the First Epistle of John).

In this broken world, it can be tempting to try to kill desire or pretend it doesn’t matter. Instead, we should look for the God-given desires that are at the root of all other desires. As we seek God’s will in Scripture, our desires are refined and brought into alignment with God’s desires. I’m sure it delights God when we ask Him to do things that are already in His plan. Like children growing up, we start out wanting whatever pleases us, but as we mature we start wanting better things both for ourselves and for those we love.

I want to desire God’s best, though I know I often settle for something much less valuable. It is my hope and prayer that God will take my lesser desires and turn them into something far beyond all I can ask or imagine. For now I’ll trust that He hears, He knows, and He cares.

“Casting all your care upon Him, for He cares for you” (1 Peter 5:7 NKJV).

© 2018 Dawn Rutan. Unless otherwise indicated all images are copyright free from pixabay.com.

In the Storm

“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 fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you. For I am the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior” (Isaiah 43:1b-3 ESV).

I have to admit though that there are times when the difficulties of life seem overwhelming and all-consuming. I realize anew that God didn’t say we don’t have to go through the rivers or the fires, but that He will be with us in the midst of them. God revealed His presence in the fiery furnace with Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego (Daniel 3). Jesus was in the boat with the disciples when they thought they were going to die from the storm (Mark 4:35-41). After calming the wind and waves, His question to them was, “Why are you so afraid? Have you still no faith?” (v. 40). He could have kept them out of the storm entirely, but instead used it to reveal His power. Later on God sent an angel to the Apostle Paul to assure him that he and the crew would survive the storm that would destroy the ship in which they sailed (Acts 27:23-24).

It would be nice if we could see God or receive an angelic messenger when the storms of life arise. Unfortunately, God doesn’t generally work that way. Trials can strengthen our faith if we cling to what we know from Scripture to be true: God is present, He cares, and He will work all things for our ultimate good and His glory.

I wonder what lessons He has in mind for our present trials (whatever they may be)?

• Patiently enduring (Col. 1:11)
• Placing our hope in Him (Rom. 5:3-4)
• Relying on His strength in our weakness (2 Cor. 12:9)
• Unceasing prayer (1 Thess. 5:16-18; Luke 18:1-8)
• Being sanctified (1 Thess. 5:23-24; Heb. 12:7)
• Boasting for God (2 Thess. 1:4-5)
• Comforting others in affliction (2 Cor. 1:3-4)

These and other Scriptural reminders should shape the way we pray for ourselves and others. I shared with someone recently that it is a little scary to pray, “Lord, do whatever it takes to save this person’s soul,” because we don’t really want to see anyone suffer. It’s far easier to pray, “Deliver this person from this difficulty,” but that may not be God’s plan. The question is, do we trust God to do exactly what is needed and nothing more or less? If He has the power to use every circumstance for His own good purposes, I want to trust Him to do that even if it hurts. That’s easier said than done.

It would be helpful if we could see the future results of the storm we’re in, but some trials may never make sense in this lifetime. One day we will realize the “eternal weight of glory” that is the result of our endurance (2 Cor. 4:16-18). Meanwhile we wait, trust, and hope.

“Wait for the Lord; be strong, and let your heart take courage; wait for the Lord!” (Psalm 27:14).

© 2018 Dawn Rutan. Unless otherwise indicated all images are copyright free from pixabay.com.

New Apparel

I recently listened to a podcast from CCEF. They used an interesting analogy for sanctification and growing in Christ. It’s like being given a new set of clothes and having to discard the old, comfy, worn clothes we like. After a while the new clothes become more comfortable, but then we have to change once again. Trusting God is a constant surrender of the old life and learning to walk in the new life. Those who are completely unwilling to change may not actually be Christians. As Sam Allberry has said more than once, “If you think the gospel is something that can be slotted neatly into your life without any change, it’s not the real gospel you’ve got.”

I can look back at different times in my life where I had to give something up and did so willingly. But other times I have delayed and held on to the old clothes as long as possible, like the rich young man in Matthew 19 who was unwilling to let go of his riches to follow Jesus. I wonder if he returned later after reconsidering? I believe God often gives us more than once chance to surrender. Sometimes we have to let go a little at a time. And it’s not just sin that we need to give up. It can also be good things such as certain relationships, the career we think we want, or our dreams of the future.

Sometimes I’m not sure I want to change in a particular area, and other times I realize I have to again surrender something I’ve taken back. I tend to think that I should be farther along in my Christian walk, that I am a disappointment to God and others because I feel stuck here. “But by the grace of God I am what I am, and His grace toward me was not in vain…” (1 Corinthians 15:10a ESV). It seems like I’ve been wearing this set of clothes for a while now, but God said through the Apostle Paul that His grace toward us is not in vain. He also said, “My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:9b). He will accomplish His purposes in us and through us in His own good time. Our reluctance to change is no surprise to Him, so we can’t disappoint Him.

I came across this quote that had been taken out of its original context:

“It [is] impossible… to be converted to Christ while at the same time loving [your] sin. It is true that anybody who comes to Christ will come with sin. In fact, he or she will come precisely because of that sin—that is, to be rid of it and its awful result. But to come to Christ while loving and cherishing sin is totally impossible. It is like an airplane trying to fly in two directions!”

The context in which I found the quote (a Sunday school lesson) might lead one to think that the author is referring to all the areas of sin in a person’s life at the time of conversion, when in fact he was referring to an individual who wanted to knowingly continue one particular sin and yet become a Christian. The fact is that we don’t even know all the areas in which we are holding onto sin even after a lifetime of faith in Christ. If God revealed every sin and forced us to choose before we could come to Him for eternal life, no one would be saved. Jesus told the woman caught in adultery “Neither do I condemn you” before He told her “Go and sin no more.” Some people try to reverse the order and say, “If you forsake all sin, then God won’t condemn you.” God is far more gracious than we even realize. He is gracious enough to reveal our sins and to cultivate our distaste for sin over time.

Tammy Maltby writes in Confessions of a Good Christian Girl:

“Even though I knew my Savior, I kept coming to points in my life when I needed more of Him than I ever thought possible… I learned firsthand that good Christian girls need the grace of Jesus just as much as unbelievers do—and that grace is abundantly available to anyone who is willing to be honest about her pain and cry out for help. But honesty can be a problem, especially for us good Christian girls, because we are so used to thinking of our lives as before-and-after stories… [The] implication is that once a person accepts the Lord, she stops sinning and lays all her brokenness outside the door. The implication is that churches are populated by those who are joyfully and triumphantly healed. And that’s just not true...” (3, 6).

Thankfully, God understands me better than I understand myself, and He extends grace for each change along the way. He knows just how much time and grace is needed to both inspire and enable change. Perhaps someday I’ll look back and realize I have changed without even realizing it. For example, I remember times in school where I played sick so as to avoid public speaking. Now I know that wasn’t nearly as big of a deal as I’d thought at the time. God brought a change in perspective over the course of several years. I trust He can and will do something similar for any and all areas of my life that may be contrary to His perfect plan. His grace is never in vain.

“Now may the God of peace Himself sanctify you completely... He who calls you is faithful; He will surely do it” (1 Thessalonians 5:23-24).

© 2018 Dawn Rutan. Unless otherwise indicated all images are copyright free from pixabay.com.

Family Camp 2018 and Other Thoughts

Last week at Family Camp Pam Buchanan was teaching from two books—One Month to Live, and The Four Things that Matter Most. The discussion centered around Psalm 90:12, “So teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom” (ESV). What would you make sure to do or say if you knew you only had a month to live? We often live as if we have unlimited tomorrows. Early in the week I happened to read the following from Liturgy of the Ordinary by Tish Harrison Warren:

“Christians are people who wait. We live in liminal time, in the already and not yet. Christ has come, and he will come again. We dwell in the meantime. We wait. But in my daily life I’ve developed habits of impatience—of speeding ahead, of trying to squeeze more into my cluttered day. How can I live as one who watches and waits for the coming kingdom when I can barely wait for water to boil? …Time is a gift from God, a means of worship. I need the church to remind me of reality: time is not a commodity that I control, manage, or consume” (104, 108).

Our priorities get distorted and we often fail to do the things that matter most—seeking God, mending and tending our relationships with others, and making disciples of all nations (starting at home).

Ron Thomas was the Bible teacher at camp, and part of our discussion was on the relevance of the Church in today’s culture. Once again I stumbled across a couple quotes in Liturgy that directly related. (God does that to me frequently.)

“If we believe that church is merely a voluntary society of people with shared values, then it is entirely optional... Our relationship with God is never less than an intimate relationship with Christ, but it is always more than that. Christians throughout history—Protestants, Catholics, and Orthodox alike—have confessed that it is impossible to have a relationship with Christ outside of a vital relationship with the church, Christ’s body and bride” (118).

“We profoundly need each other. We are immersed in the Christian life together. There is no merely private faith—everything we are and do as individuals affects the church community. Yet many believers of my generation are not sure what the church is for. Some have denigrated the need for it all together. We have produced a me-centered faith that would be foreign to most Christians throughout history... But if Christianity is not only about my individual connection with God, but is instead about God calling, forming, saving, and redeeming a people, then the church can never be relegated to ‘elective’ status... The preservation of our faith and the endurance of the saints is not an individual promise; it is a promise that God will redeem and preserve his church—a people, a community, an organism, an institution—generation after generation, and that even the gates of hell will not prevail against it” (120).

This dovetails nicely with discussions we’ve been having at our church on what the church is and what it means to be a church member. Church membership is about more than having your name on a list somewhere, or showing up for an occasional service. It is a commitment to a group of people who love Christ and desire to encourage, equip, build up, serve, help, and hold one another accountable. We are to be partners in spreading the good news of salvation and teaching new believers how to follow Christ. We are brothers and sisters in Christ with a bond closer than that of blood.

“The eye cannot say to the hand, ‘I have no need of you,’ nor again the head to the feet, ‘I have no need of you’” (1 Cor. 12:21).

© 2018 Dawn Rutan. Unless otherwise indicated all images are copyright free from pixabay.com.