Moving from Duty to Expectancy

Most churches would be thrilled if 120 people showed up at one of their prayer meetings. Well, the truth of the matter is that most churches no longer even have prayer meetings. Attendance was so meager that the churches lost heart and concluded it wasn’t worth the effort.

In contrast, 120 people gathered together to pray for an entire week preceding the Day of Pentecost in Acts 2. Before ascending into heaven, Jesus had instructed His followers to “wait for the Promise of the Father,” when they would receive the supernatural power of the Holy Spirit (Acts 1:4-8).

You would certainly think no one would want to miss out on such an offer. Who wouldn’t want to receive “power from on high” (Luke 24:49), enabling them to perform miracles and be a bold witness for Christ?

Yet there’s a sad, and somewhat bewildering, back story here.

Hundreds of people presumably knew of Jesus’ promise, but failed to show up and join the others in prayer. We can infer this from passages such as 1 Corinthians 15:6, where we learn that the risen Christ was seen by over 500 people on one occasion.

Surely they all would have been told about the coming outpouring of the Spirit. Surely they all would have dropped everything else in order to experience such a transformational event.

But only 120 people showed up to pray.

Why were so many people absent when the Holy Spirit came? Were they simply too busy? Did they think they had “better” things to do? Despite Jesus’ promise, were they skeptical that anything of significance would happen?

We can only imagine what their reasons were. But whatever the reasons might have been, they look rather silly in retrospect.

I’ve been thinking lately about how important it is to “show up,” whether in our personal prayer times with the Lord or in our gatherings with other believers. I’ll admit, sometimes I don’t see much happen when I show up. And sometimes I probably just give up too early—right before some breakthrough would have occurred.

I’ve concluded that there are two primary motivations for why we show up for things. One is DUTY, and the other is EXPECTANCY. Although duty isn’t necessarily an improper motive, expectancy is clearly a much better motivator.

Most of us go to work more out of duty than out of expectancy. The same is true of showing up for our six-month dental checkup.

But duty shouldn’t be our primary reason for going to church. We should come with great anticipation, expecting to meet with God, even as we are meeting with fellow believers.

I don’t know if Peter, James, and John were expecting much to happen the day Jesus took them up the mountain to pray (Matthew 17:1-8). Perhaps they assumed it would be just an “ordinary” day. But to their surprise, “He was transfigured before them. His face shone like the sun, and His clothes became as white as the light” (v. 2).

It was no ordinary day.

Prior to climbing the mountain with Jesus, the three disciples may have felt they had “other things to do.” However, they chose to show up—and the Lord met with them in a powerful way.

Is there somewhere God is calling YOU to show up…some divine appointment He’s asking you to keep? Then don’t go just out of obligation or duty. Be expectant that He will meet with you and change your life!

I had originally considered calling this entry “Lay Down Your Judgment” or “Lay Down Your Grudges.” Either would have worked, and I’ll touch upon them here. But I think the title I settled on captures both those ideas, and something more.

My atheist buddy Tim has an amusing-truth kind of song called “I Hate to Be Judgmental,” which begins, “I hate to be judgmental, but some people make me sick.” Later on, though, a larger truth comes up: “I hate to be judgmental, but there's nothing else to do / Everybody's judging me—why shouldn't I judge you?” And it’s true; this judgment thing is an endless cycle. Getting worked up over someone else’s shortcomings is a pretty good time-killer that helps us feel better about ourselves.

Furthermore, it’s quite easy to extend this attitude to other Christians. I mean, we—and of course, by we, we mean they—should know better. They’re Christians, right? There’s certainly truth to that. But let’s remember, especially in a book dedicated to this premise, that all of us are still learning how to properly lay down our lives at Jesus’ feet.

Before we extend judgment, consider this: If Jesus is indeed the greatest thing, indeed the greatest person, in my life, shouldn’t that be true about every Christian I meet—and for that matter, every potential Christian? Shouldn’t I be looking for that movement of the Spirit in the other person, no matter (or especially given) what sin God calls them out of… and that Jesus already paid the price for?

When we refuse to forgive, we keep others in bondage. Jesus says it: “Truly, I say to you, whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven” (Matthew 18:18). Forgiveness, or the lack thereof, has that kind of power. By believing that we need—deserve—to be repaid for the wrongs done to us, we become, in a very real sense, spiritual slave owners. We accuse others of evil—then, instead of freeing them from it, leave them trapped in it. Are those the kind of people we want to be?

Yet we all do it. I certainly do. And at the same time, I keep someone else locked up, too—me. Slaves still need to be fed and watched over, you know, no matter how much contempt we have for them. And we fearfully await the day they rise up in rebellion against us.

With all that in mind, let’s come back to last week's "transgressor" thoughts and expand even further. Something else I've been noticing in the gospels, and I suspect you have, too: The people we'd normally think of as transgressors (or whatever word we'd substitute for that)—those who commit sins of some obvious type of self-indulgence—aren't the people who truly anger Jesus. He doesn’t let them off the hook, but he also very openly offers his compassion to them. At the same time he calls them out on the carpet, he calls them to something better. He knows that these people are only trying to fill a void in their lives, however poorly or self-destructively. Thus, he points to himself and says, "I'm what you're looking for. Lay down all the rest of it and come follow me."

Thus, the people who truly anger Jesus are the victimizers—those who corrupt others, who take advantage of children, those who hurt and damage others, and especially those who do all this under a veneer of self-righteousness. These are the people Jesus takes on constantly, and who are subjected to his anger and pronouncements of judgment. Not surprisingly, it's these people who ultimately condemn Jesus to death—enabling him to "be numbered with the transgressors." And yet, how does Jesus tell us to respond?

“But I say to you who hear, Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you. To one who strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also, and from one who takes away your cloak do not withhold your tunic either. Give to everyone who begs from you, and from one who takes away your goods do not demand them back. And as you wish that others would do to you, do so to them.

“If you love those who love you, what benefit is that to you? For even sinners love those who love them. And if you do good to those who do good to you, what benefit is that to you? For even sinners do the same. And if you lend to those from whom you expect to receive, what credit is that to you? Even sinners lend to sinners, to get back the same amount. But love your enemies, and do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return, and your reward will be great, and you will be sons of the Most High, for he is kind to the ungrateful and the evil. Be merciful, even as your Father is merciful” (Luke 6:27–36).

In short: You don't get to hold onto your hurt. You don't get to allow it to fester into bitterness. You don't get to hold it over their heads. Let Jesus handle it. You, lay it down.

Lay It Down Today

Today’s assignment is a two-parter:

1) Read 1 Peter 3–4. Take note of all the encouragements Peter offers us to live as Jesus told us. There’s a lot of them. Meditate on them. Pray over them.

2) Today’s reading has likely brought someone to mind—and it’s OK if it’s the same person who came up last week; that just proves you’re not done yet. Repeat the following sentence with that person’s name inserted. “Jesus forgave [name] just as he forgave me.” You may need to ask Jesus to give you a heart to truly forgive, to help you receive his forgiveness toward you, or both. So ask.

by Jim Buchan

When my dad died recently, I was greeted everywhere by the same condolences, “I’m sorry for your loss.” Well, my dad was 94-years-old and in failing health before his death, and I’m confident he’s now enjoying his new, strong, and pain-free body in heaven. Yes, I will miss the long talks we had every few days, but I know it won’t be long until I’m with him again. And in the meantime, my loss is his gain.

Dealing with the loss of my father has caused me to think about the many other kinds of losses people sometimes face. In addition to the death of loved ones, there are such things as health setbacks, divorces, lost jobs, broken friendships, and financial reversals. Our losses come in many different shapes and sizes, and sometimes they come without warning.

Losses hurt, especially when we deal with more than one loss at a time. There’s only so much we can take. At some point, even a straw can break a camel’s back.

While most people are familiar with the numerous losses experienced by Job, lately I’ve been thinking more about Naomi, a lesser-known character in the book of Ruth who suffered multiple losses during her lifetime.

In the beginning, she and her husband Elimelech, along with their two sons, probably had a pretty nice life in Bethlehem. But then famine struck, leading to Naomi’s first losses. The family moved to Moab in search of food, and she suddenly lost both her homeland and her friends. With no Facebook, Skype, or even phones back then, her friendships seemingly were lost forever.

In Moab, Naomi’s losses only multiplied. First Elimelech died, then her two sons. She found herself having to endure life as a widow, with no blood relatives, living in a foreign land.

I’m sure people must have told Naomi something like we’re told today at such times, “Naomi, I’m sorry for your losses.”

Such sentiments would have been sincere and well-meaning, and Naomi herself was keenly aware that her many losses had taken a toll. No wonder she concluded, “  (Ruth 1:13)

While Naomi’s feelings were certainly understandable, they were totally wrong. God wasn’t against Naomi! Not in the least. Quite the contrary, He was getting ready to bless her with an unfathomable turnaround that would impact not only her own life, but history itself.

If you’ve read to the end of the story, you realize that the Lord had a plan for Naomi all along. Although there were plenty of losses along the way, each one paved the way toward her destiny. With every loss, Naomi was positioned one step closer to mentoring Ruth to fulfill her role in the lineage of Jesus, who was born in Bethlehem over 1,000 years later.

If it hadn’t been for the famine, Naomi and her family never would have gotten to Moab, where her son Mahlon married Ruth. If her husband and sons hadn’t died, Naomi never would have moved with Ruth back to Bethlehem, where Ruth would eventually marry Boaz and bear a son.

Consider how remarkable this is: More than 1,000 years before His Son would be born in Bethlehem, God sovereignly arranged events in the lives of Naomi, Ruth, and Boaz to foreshadow the nativity. What a great testimony to His ability to orchestrate the events in our lives as well, even using our losses to prepare us for ultimate gains.

So, if God has removed something from your life recently, I’m sorry for the loss you’ve experienced. However, just as He did for Job and Naomi, He may be using your losses to prepare you for far greater blessings and breakthroughs ahead.

This may shed some new light on what Paul meant when he said he gladly “suffered the loss of all things…that I may gain Christ” (Philippians 3:7-10). Instead of spending much time lamenting about all his losses, Paul rejoiced that he kept gaining more of Christ. While the losses were no doubt painful, gaining more of Jesus made it well worth it in the end.

I’ll admit, I’m still grieving over the death of my dad and other losses in my life as well. But I pray I’ll experience what Job, Naomi, and Paul all found in the end—a new outpouring of the Lord’s grace and favor.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the following passage: “He (Christ) was numbered with the transgressors” (Mark 15:28, cf. Isaiah 53:12). I believe that in our own way we too are called to be “numbered with the transgressors,” and that it’s a key to moving past our old life and into the life Christ intends for us.

Because… well, let’s start with a simple truth: We are among the transgressors.

This isn’t to dismiss or excuse some of the truly horrific sins that others perpetrate upon us or others; however, for the majority of us, most of our lives aren’t about those kinds of transgressions. They’re about responding to everyday hurts—insults, gossip, other inconsiderate acts—or even “bigger” but not necessarily deeper sins committed against us—deliberate acts where we’re deemed inferior or just not good enough, or slanderous words against our reputation. It’s also about responding to every person we meet and resisting the urge to judge and deem them not good enough, whether it’s for “good” reasons or for nonexistent ones we just came up with on the spot.

Even in more extreme cases, I think this idea of being numbered with the transgressors applies. Every so often, we’re surprised by a news story about an act of extreme forgiveness. Many of us think it can’t possibly be legitimate—that they’re just saying it but that they really still harbor anger or resentment. Or maybe we just resign ourselves to the idea that we’re incapable of that degree of forgiveness in the face of that kind of abuse or injustice. Fortunately, God knows both the good and the bad we’re capable of far better than we do. He will equip us to face those moments.

Jesus lived a perfect life and died for every one of those sins—even the ones committed against us. And he calls us to follow him and “be perfect” (Matthew 5:48), by learning how to die to those sins—and the hurt we’ve suffered from them as well.

When we allow ourselves to “be numbered with the transgressors”—that’s when God can work. I don’t mean sheepishly shrugging, “Yeah, I’m a sinner just like everyone else,” but looking straight at the people around you who carry sins that offend and maybe even repulse you, and admitting “These are my people, too; I really am like them except for Christ, and he chose to be numbered with them.” It means checking our pride and self-righteousness at the door. When we do, we are opened to the opportunity to overlook the sins of others—again, not excusing or denying them, but understanding they’re part of the same mess we’re in—truly forgiving them, and replacing our revulsion with compassion.

Now there is in Jerusalem by the Sheep Gate a pool, in Aramaic called Bethesda, which has five roofed colonnades. In these lay a multitude of invalids—blind, lame, and paralyzed. One man was there who had been an invalid for thirty-eight years. When Jesus saw him lying there and knew that he had already been there a long time, he said to him, “Do you want to be healed?” The sick man answered him, “Sir, I have no one to put me into the pool when the water is stirred up, and while I am going another steps down before me.” Jesus said to him, “Get up, take up your bed, and walk.” And at once the man was healed, and he took up his bed and walked.

Now that day was the Sabbath. So the Jews said to the man who had been healed, “It is the Sabbath, and it is not lawful for you to take up your bed.” But he answered them, “The man who healed me, that man said to me, ‘Take up your bed, and walk.’” They asked him, “Who is the man who said to you, ‘Take up your bed and walk’?” Now the man who had been healed did not know who it was, for Jesus had withdrawn, as there was a crowd in the place. Afterward Jesus found him in the temple and said to him, “See, you are well! Sin no more, that nothing worse may happen to you.” The man went away and told the Jews that it was Jesus who had healed him (John 5:2–15).

You might be wondering, “What’s the connection between this passage and what you were just saying?” But do you notice something in this story? No-one’s terribly motivated for this guy to get well—including the man himself. But Jesus is.

This scenario seems to run counter to the conventional wisdom around us. However, this is how we really are, both in terms of ourselves and those around us. We’d rather read a self-help book and feel healed, than actually be healed. We’d rather stick with the status quo, no matter how much it actually hurts, than encounter the fear of the unknown that comes with truly being healed—or in seeing other “invalids” in our lives healed. We’re a lot more like these nitpicky Pharisees than we’d like to admit.

Jesus asks the invalid at the pool, “What do you want me to do? Do you want me to heal you?” Think about this in terms of your own “internal injuries.” Would you rather identify yourself by your hurt, your blindness—say it: your willfulness in withholding forgiveness—or would you rather get on with your undiscovered future, by growing into your new life and identity in Christ?

The beginning of healing is admitting you’re hurt. That’s true of your internal state, and it’s just as true about all the broken relationships around you. So lay down your hurt. Take Jesus’ yoke. Be numbered with the transgressors. You’ll start to see them differently. And more importantly, you’ll let Jesus bring healing and grace to you—and them.

Lay It Down Today

I’ll keep this simple: Where do you need to be “numbered with the transgressors” today? Is it an act of forgiveness? Is it treating some “weird” or annoying person you avoid with the same dignity you’d want? Does it involve reaching out somehow to the more marginalized of society—not just by being charitable but by being present and available?

You know what you felt as you read today’s entry, so I won’t get in the way of what God wants to do with it. But start making it happen today. Respond to what God’s trying to tell you.

A boundary is an imaginary line that separates my stuff from yours. On one side of this line are my possessions and on the other side are yours. All boundaries have sides: my side and your side. A boundary is personal and is a necessary part of integrity and self-esteem.  I like the idea that a boundary is not a tool of selfishness, but is a critical element of selfishness. Life what other people did I also made boundaries for myself especially to control myself when to get angry over a thing and being kind to someone. I set a boundary of myself when to get upset with something if ever someone committed a mistake to me and it is only little or just a misunderstanding I will bare it but when the mistake was head over heels I don’t know what will I do next. It is okay to set boundaries in your own self in order to stay away from fight and also it helps a person a lot to be patient. Setting boundaries for yourself will teach you how to wait and changed your life for the better.  

Jamie Hill – Team Leader at https://securerestoration.com/biohazard-cleaning/

People and tea bags really do have a lot in common—you never fully know what’s in them until they’re in hot water. Although unpleasant, adversity is often exactly what we need to reveal our character and the true strength of our commitments.

When the heat is on, everyone can see what we’re made of, whether positive or negative. Attitudes and inclinations we’ve succeeded in hiding during pleasant circumstances suddenly become revealed for all to see.

The church in the book of Acts was in hot water more often than not. Lots of persecution, lots of problems, lots of apparent setbacks. But through it all, the believers grew stronger and became more like Jesus. Rather than diminish during hard times, their love for one another kept increasing. And when threatened not to share their faith, they became bolder than ever.

If you’re in hot water today, you may not like some of the things you’re discovering about yourself. You may even become dis-illusioned for a while, because the Lord often uses adversities to remove the illusions from our lives—such as the illusion of self-sufficiency.

God loves you and intends this whole process for your good. All sorts of dross and impurities may be rising to the surface today, but you’re going to come out like pure gold in the end (Job 23:10). So go ahead and thank Him for putting you through the fire from time to time.

Whose hand is in the cookie jar?

The following story is one of our favorites. As the mama returns after a few moments away, she is greeted enthusiastically at the door by little Tommy, who announces, “Mommy, mommy, Jimmy hit me back.” Let’s face it even when we are caught with our hand in the cookie jar and with crumbs on our face and hands, it is often very difficult to admit our own guilt. Today let’s do some thinking together about our common dilemma, and what can be done about it.

Russian cosmonaut Yuri Gagarin made the first  brief 108-minute orbital flight around the earth April 12, 1961 in Vostok 1, and reportedly announced (by atheistic Russian officials) in a presumptuous, cocky, arrogant manner, “I did not see God out there, so He must not exist.”  Gherman Titov said similar stuff. We might scoff at such shallow observations and conclusions, but maybe some of us are similarly guilty.

For example, do you think it is fair of God to hold us to a standard of perfection? He may be perfect, but we’re only human, right? Why wouldn’t He lower the standard, or at least grade on the curve? Even some stiff college professors grade on the curve.

But let’s consider some more questions. Could you really honor, serve, and worship a God who adjusted His standards to a societal norm, when that very society was rebelling against Him, His truth, and His character? Quite often there are two sides to the coin that should prompt questions beyond those that we begin with. I maintain that virtually none of us would respect a God who lowered His standards because His creation was opposing Him.

But if God holds mankind to a standard of perfection and holiness, but man generally falls way short of that standard, how can God solve that dilemma? To make matters worse, God tells us in the book of Romans that when we break one of His laws it is the same as breaking all of His laws since we become a lawbreaker. This sounds hopeless to me, and it is. But God specializes in hopeless and impossible situations.

Our failures to meet His standards and our willingness to disobey, rebel, and rationalize our stubborn sinfulness, are not a surprise to God. He knew about this and made a plan to solve it before He created anything at all according to the book of Ephesians. He planned for us to be holy and without blame, but how could that possibly be? The answer is His son Jesus Christ whom He made to become sin for us, sacrificing his perfect life to pay 100% for all our sins. Then He made Jesus to become four main things for all who would humbly receive him as their Lord and Savior: wisdom, righteousness, sanctification, and redemption. So now, all who have personally accepted Jesus and His payment for our sins are seen as righteous and perfect when God looks at us through the blood of His son.

God did not lower His standard, but instead He cleansed us and dressed us in the perfect righteousness of Christ so that we could stand holy and without blame or shame in His presence forever. Surely our magnificent God continues to solve impossible problems for our good and His glory, even when we judge and criticize him, totally devoid of understanding, appreciation, and reverential awe.

Are you still among the crowd of naysayers, judges, and critics of God like Gagarin or Titov, or have you bowed your knee to Jesus and confessed Him publicly as your majestic Lord and Savior?

Preparation

As an Eagle Scout, I know and believe in their motto, “be prepared.” This slogan opens the door to a good example of the contrast between what we say we believe, and the difficulties we experience in putting it into practice. No one would argue against being prepared, but we all run into many pressures, schedule constraints, and excuses for shortchanging the time and effort required for good preparation. Today we will look at wonderful examples of results of good preparation, and even go beyond into putting our life on the line to back up what we say we believe.

Daniel and his three Hebrew friends were taken captive by King Nebuchadnezzar to become reeducated, re-mediated, and made ready for politically correct service to the King. In passing we can note that the foundational freedoms fought for by founding father patriots, are being eroded and replaced today with legally required political correctness which redefines freedom of speech and freedom of religion as hate speech. Thus the pot calls the kettle black by intolerantly requiring politically correct speech in the name of tolerance. It has only gotten worse since Jeremiah.  “Everyone will deceive his neighbor, And will not speak the truth; They have taught their tongue to speak lies; They weary themselves to commit iniquity.”(Jeremiah 9:5)  Today in the US, the government is ordering citizens who are used to free speech to attend politically correct speech class which violates the Constitution, the Bible, and the consciences of God fearing people.

Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego had already experienced retraining in Babylonian culture school. But when they refused to bow down and worship King Nebuchadnezzar’s 90 foot statue, he threw them in to a burning furnace in a fit of furious rage. Their preparation prior to age 15 equipped them to withstand both of these extreme tests without compromise, self-defense, disrespect, lectures, or accusations. Much like Jesus, they committed themselves into the care of their God, trusting in his provision. God stood with them in the furnace, which prompts one of my favorite sayings, “if you stand up, you’ll stand out, but you won’t stand alone.”

Because jealous peers of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego became tattletales, these three came into the public spotlight of the world’s most powerful King. Fortunately their preparations included the integrity and authenticity of honoring God both privately and publicly.  My own issues include the challenge being faithful to God, rather than being fearful of men or attempting to please them (including wanting public affirmation). Three things that help my focus and perspective include: To keep eyes of faith on God and be faithful to him over any fear of man or desire to please men, and recall that to be with him and like him forever certainly is worth dying for. This kind of focus also prepares me daily to reply with love and silence to derision, ridicule, and “smart-mouth” answers to my words and actions.

In summary, the outstanding stability of these Hebrew teenagers, due to their preparation, allowed them to serve God and be his witnesses both in private and in public, in such dramatic ways that it totally transformed the heart and theology of King Nebuchadnezzar. I think it is a no-brainer to deduce that the parents of these teens instilled God’s word and principles into the lives and decision-making of their children in highly motivational and practical ways.

Because of God’s powerful word, promises, and merciful blessings, I am prepared for eternity by accepting Jesus’ payment for my sin and allowing him to dress me in his righteousness. How about you?  If you enjoyed this, you will surely enjoy the source of its inspiration, Big God in a Chaotic World, book just published by our senior pastor; available at http://brucebmiller.com/books/

I’ve been thinking a lot about the book of Ruth lately and the subject of “starting over.” The story describes two women, one old and one young, and both of them needed a new beginning.

Naomi and Ruth had experienced traumatic losses when their husbands died, and sometimes traumas like that can leave people “stuck” and emotionally paralyzed. 

But Naomi makes a radical decision—she will return to Bethlehem, the place she and her husband originally lived before a famine led them to relocate to Moab. Ruth made a radical decision too—she would accompany her mother-in-law Naomi back to Bethlehem.

One of the intriguing things about this story is that Naomi received a fresh start by returning to her roots, but Ruth received a fresh start by going somewhere she had never been before.

I encourage you to take a moment and ask yourself what kind of new beginning you need today, whether in your health, your finances, your family, or perhaps even your relationship with God.

The next question is whether your fresh start will come from returning to your roots or through taking a bold new venture to do something you’ve never done before. Are you willing to listen to God’s instructions on this?

After Naomi lost her husband and sons, she would have thought you’re crazy to suggest that the rest of her life could truly be the best of her life—but it was. Not just for Naomi, but for Ruth as well.

Read the story for yourself sometime. You’re never too old or too young to get a fresh start.

Last week's entry was about you receiving forgiveness. This week, it’s about you extending it—to others, and ultimately to yourself as well. So yes, this week we’re still more focused on the “negative” pieces of our lives, but the bigger focus is on finding our way past those pieces.

So let’s pick up where we left off. This time, though, rather than dwelling on the things that have caused us deep shame—and for now, the need to forgive others in those areas—let’s go broad instead of deep. Let’s explore the width and breadth of all those “little” things from our past that nonetheless work together to hold us back from believing in God’s best for us.

And let’s start here: The person least immune to all of this is me. As I warned in the introduction to this book, by laying out all these issues before you, I’m also taking a buzzsaw to the undergrowth in my own life.

As I finished the previous devotion (“Lay Down Your Shame”), I was confronted by my own accusations—not by shame, but by all the negative things in my past that I nevertheless allow to define me. To be sure, some of my counter-reactions to those negative things have had some very positive results. You’re reading one of them right now. For that matter, I spent three years writing a six-book bible-study series that was very much a counter-reaction to some decidedly negative circumstances in my life at the time (“I’ll show you what discipleship looks like!”). And as I reflect upon it now, my counter-reaction to my childhood is what gave me the determination that my marriage and the way our children were raised would be different—and they were.

Yet, there’s a part of me—no doubt bigger than I realize even now—that spends an inordinate amount of time identifying myself against those negative things in the past that I’m not. Seeing this in other people’s lives—and I think it’s even truer for those trapped by shame—I observe what I like to call a “spiritual Stockholm Syndrome.” That is, the penchant to identify ourselves with—and perhaps excuse but not truly forgive—those who have hurt us deeply.

I, too, am often just as trapped by it.

Our experiences, to a large degree, have made us who we are. But we are more than our experiences, let alone our negative ones. There’s a life in Christ waiting for us that goes beyond what we would limit ourselves to. “Laying down what’s done” doesn’t mean we forget the things in our past. And it certainly doesn’t mean we stop feeling anything when they come to mind, although hopefully we learn to move on more quickly. It does mean that we no longer allow ourselves to own those things, and that we no longer allow them to own us.

God can use the things of our past to create something far better than the prison those things have often become for us. (That goes for positive things as well; we’ll spend more time there in future weeks.) Very often, as we share how God has changed us in those areas, God brings deliverance and transformation to others—as well as through our vulnerability in confessing our willingness to be changed, as we continue to work through those issues.

For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them (Ephesians 2:10).

Let’s face it: We’re all “pieces of work” in some way. And yet, all of us are also works in progress. By being willing to lay down our baggage, we give God full permission to get on with the work he’s prepared us for since the day we were created. And we might be surprised by how far-reaching that work will become.

Lay It Down Today

1) Take a chunk of time right now to think about how God has transformed one or more areas of your life. Thank God for the changes he’s already brought about through that.

2) Perhaps this devotional has stirred up something you’d really thought/hoped you’d moved on from, but where God needs to do an even deeper work. Spend some time giving that issue up to God. Allow him to transform it into what he wants.

3) Either way, think about this: How could sharing about your past enable someone else to get past theirs? If someone came to mind, make time to share with that person. Remember: If something truly required—or requires, if you and God are dealing with it right now—God’s intervention, it’s already important. That’s enough. So look for an opportunity to let God speak through your life, and let God take it from there.

“To persevere, trusting in what hopes he has, / is courage in a man. The coward despairs.” [Euripides, 422 B.C.]

Love’s eternal flame is inextinguishable—death’s horrors are unable to kill it; life’s busyness cannot suffocate it; demonic opposition will not quench it; fear never overshadows it; worry only intensifies it; hell’s hatred will not disturb it. The fire of God’s passion for life never cools; the light of God’s presence never dims.

God stirs the flame of eternal hope in our hearts—quickening the spark of love into worship, fanning faith into service. The fire on our heart’s altar may flicker in doubt’s wind, but God expects us to tend the flame for His honor.

Living as a child of the Light is never easy. Lesser lights attract us, but we should keep in mind that evil advertises pleasure but poisons the soul; it promises illumination but delivers insanity.

We can refuel zeal by drawing on Christ’s infinite strength. We can burn fervently for God by relying on His Holy Spirit energizing our soul. Walking with the Light of the world we learn the secret of surviving tough times with equanimity, taste the recipe of invulnerable joy, and find reasons to sing an uninterrupted praise song through all our days.

Here are heaven’s directions for avoiding burnout—place ego on the altar, letting self-centeredness be consumed by the blaze of absolute holiness; never allow devotion’s fire to be extinguished, proving our love for God by undying obedience; surrender to God’s holy purpose, daring to be His fuel. If we follow our Lord’s orders, He will transform us into “a burning and a shining light” (John 5:35) that will never burn out.

Johnny R. Almond

Author, Gentle Whispers from Eternity

[This devotion based on Day 62 of Gentle Whispers]

Interim Pastor, Nomini Baptist Church; Montross, Virginia

http://GentleWhispersFromEternity-ScripturePersonalized.com/

I invite you to leave a reply or like the blog by clicking on the heart.

Tis’ the season – baseball season, that is - my favorite season of the year.  One of the things I love about baseball is the unique jargon that is not heard in any other sport.  No other sport has “ducks on the pond” or a “bull pen” or “tools of ignorance.”  A few games ago, the pitcher had suddenly begun to give up hit after hit, in mid-game.  Someone described him as being “out of gas,” meaning he had grown tired and unsuccessful.  While some baseball lingo must remain forever within the sport, this phrase transfers beyond.  In fact, I know some Christians, and a few ministers, who are “out of gas.” The more acceptable term is “burn-out.” But whatever you call it, it is sad to see, and difficult to correct.  When this malady befalls us, we try to remedy it by acting more spiritual, serving harder, employing more spiritual discipline, saying things like, “I’d rather burn-out than rust-out,” while the real cure is within.  Quoted by E. Stanley Jones, someone said, “If we haven’t that within us which is above us, we will soon yield to that which is around us.”  Even God rested on the seventh day, and blessed it as a day of rest and refreshment (Genesis 2:2-3).  Likewise, Jesus “withdrew” (Mark 3:7) from the crowds, understanding that life in general and ministry in specific needs times for renewing and refueling.  Out of gas? It’s hard to gas-up on the move. Stop long enough for God to re-fill your spiritual tank.

Dr. Dan Crawford, Senior Professor at Southwestern Baptist Seminary, is also the WestCoast Baptist Association (Vancouver, Canada) Spiritual Life & Leadership Mentor. Follow Dan on Twitter @DrDanRC and Facebook www.facebook.com/dan.crawford.

“Go away from me, Lord; I am a sinful man!” (Luke 5:8, NIV).

One of the very first things Peter says to Jesus captures a huge issue for many of us. After a night of fishing and catching nothing, Jesus blesses Peter, James, and John with more fish than they can handle—and all Peter can see is how short he’s fallen of God’s perfection.

Which, in itself, isn’t a bad thing. It’s not unusual for us, either, to react this way when we first encounter Jesus; and we always need to remember the truth in Peter’s words. But Jesus didn’t come just so he could “go away.” Instead, he calls us to lay down a life that’s often consumed by shame at who we are or what we’ve done.

The things we’ve done—and the evils done to us—are done. We can’t undo what happened, but we can undo the hold of those things upon us. We can own our sin without it owning us. Jesus’ response to Peter, James and John confirms this: “Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching men.” (Luke 5:10). Jesus calls each of us to lay down our shame, and follow him forward instead.

If we continue to base our identity in our past instead of allowing it to die, we will never approach God—or more to the point, we’ll never let him in; God is already approaching us. Instead, we’ll do just about anything to fill the hole that the Spirit should be occupying. We believe we need to be successful, popular, powerful, constantly entertained, or occupied, because what we are and what we have isn’t good enough. That’s where the power of temptation lies: in the idea that who God created us to be, and what he’s created us for, isn’t good enough. That God got it—and us—wrong.

This brings us full-circle to where we began this series. Letting go of this old, false self and embracing who we were truly meant to be in Jesus is what this laying-down process is all about. We’re called to acknowledge our guilt and move on, not to take up permanent residence in our shame and hurt.

In a (hopefully not blasphemous) sense, Jesus has carried and shared in our guilt all the way back to the Garden of Eden. The Fall could have been prevented—but it wasn’t. Like the first Adam, Jesus chose to look on instead of stopping those events from occurring. But let’s not forget another incident, in another garden several thousand years later, which Jesus also could have stopped from happening—but he didn’t. Jesus stopped in Gethsemane, and saw through at Calvary, what began in Eden.

The cross removes our guilt. All of it. However, it leaves responsibility. Jesus says to us, just as he did the woman caught in adultery, “Neither do I condemn you; go, and from now on sin no more” (John 8:11). And, to “take up the cross, and follow me” (Mark 10:21, KJV).

It’s not all work and struggle, though. Let’s circle back to Peter, because God uses him to give us a great “before and after” picture. Three years later, mere days after Jesus’ resurrection and appearance to the disciples—and for that matter, Peter’s repeated denial of Jesus—we see almost the exact same scene as the one in Luke 5, this time in John 21. Peter, James, and John go fishing again; this time they’ve got Thomas, Nathanael and two other disciples with them (and after all the bickering throughout the gospels, it’s nice to see them finally starting to work together). Again, they have another bad night of fishing.

This time Jesus shows up on the shore—close enough to yell, but far enough that they can’t yet tell it’s him. He tells them to cast out their nets, and again, the nets can’t hold all the fish they catch. Peter’s been here before; he realizes it’s Jesus.

But what’s Peter’s reaction this time? He throws himself into the sea and swims as fast as he can toward the shore. He doesn’t wait for the boat to dock—or freak because the guy he’d betrayed only days earlier is maybe a hundred yards away, back from the dead, and knows how to walk on water. This time, Peter’s going as fast as he can to Jesus. Clearly Peter’s still an impetuous kind of guy, and “a sinful man!”, but equally clearly he’s learned something about his relationship to Jesus. Peter, quite literally, is shame-less.

Now it’s our turn. Whatever has happened in our past is an opportunity for Jesus to transform it, and us, if we’ll let him. “Blessed are the poor in spirit” (Matthew 5:3). You are in fact already blessed because you don’t deserve grace, and no matter who you are or where you stand with Jesus at this moment, his grace is offered to you anyway, right now. Therefore, the challenge now becomes to receive and rejoice in that grace. The past is gone; let it stay gone. We’ll look more into that next month.

Lay It Down Today

What issues from your past came to mind as you read today? Get a piece of paper and write them down. Then bury your past—literally.

First, take some time to pray, giving over to God whatever you’ve written down, and asking the Spirit’s help to empower you to keep letting those things go. Then, take your paper and bury it (or tear it up). Thank God for your past—because it’s made you who are today, and in brand-new ways you’re now willing to let him reveal—but let whatever shame that remains in your past die, so your future can live.

When you remember sports stars of yesteryear, you probably remember their finest moments. Babe Ruth is famous for hitting 714 home runs in his career, and few people remember that he also struck out 1330 times, almost twice as often.

I guess the moral of the story is that if you want to hit a lot of home runs in life, you can’t be afraid to strikeout from time to time. If Babe Ruth had spent time thinking about his strike outs, he would have become too discouraged to be the great ballplayer that he was.

Basketball great Michael Jordan said on a TV commercial toward the end of his NBA career: “I’ve missed more than 9,000 shots in my career. I’ve lost more than 300 games. Twenty-six times I’ve been trusted to take the game-winning shot—and missed. I’ve failed over and over and over again in my life, and that is why I succeed.”

Should we consider Michael Jordan a failure at basketball because he missed a lot of shots and lost a lot of games? Of course not. Yet missing the winning shot in a big game would have sent some players into a tailspin. They might have gone into a slump for several games, unable to shake the memory of their failure. But not Michael. He learned to start each game with a clean slate.

Michael Jordan had actually learned to overcome failure several years before starting his career in the NBA. In 1978 he was cut from the basketball team at Laney High School in Wilmington, North Carolina. Instead of giving up, he worked hard to improve his game. He made the team the following year, and by 1985 he was the NBA rookie of the year.

No one ever became a great success in life without also experiencing some failure along the way. The person who’s intent on never making a mistake has probably never made much of anything.

The key is your ability to shake it off and bounce back. You have to forget about that last shot that you missed.

In my mid-20s I went on a date with a girl and ended up telling her my life story. “You sure have failed a lot!” she told me after a while.

Well, I’ve failed many more times in the years since then.

However, when I examine the lives of the Biblical heroes in the Hall of Fame of Faith in Hebrews 11, I see plenty of failure before their ultimate triumphs. And I love the apostle Paul’s conclusion in Philippians 3:13-14: “One thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind and reaching forward to those things which are ahead, I press toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.”

I guess we all need some “selective amnesia” as we age. We have to forget about the strikeouts and missed buzzer-beaters and focus on the great opportunities ahead. Let’s keep swinging for the fences. Let’s keep shooting, particularly after we’ve missed our last shot.

To review some reasons why confession is good for the soul, read my blog on this subject at http://GentleWhispersFromEternity-ScripturePersonalized.com/

Recently, 85 men and women from 7 military bases attended a Discipleship Practicum Retreat. There was no main speaker, there was no formal band, and there was no comedian to hype up the crowd before we got started. There was, however, a Testimony Scavenger Hunt, four workshops, a fun night and a close-out session.

Friday night we held a Testimony Scavenger Hunt where we practiced giving our Jesus stories to each other. Everyone was given a sheet of paper with twenty categories, being instructed to find one person for each category, tell them your Jesus Story, and have them tell you theirs.

Saturday we held four workshops, each being facilitated by area Navigator Staff and co-facilitated by someone they were discipling/training. The purpose for this was so the attendees of the retreat would see discipleship in action.

The plan for each workshop was to have a topic presented to, an illustration explained to, and information practiced among workshop attendees. Next, each attendee was paired with one from another workshop to share with each other what had just been passed on. The purpose of this was to have each attendee practice "discipling" another as they shared what had just been learned.

Saturday night was fun night, where skits, music, and testimonies were presented to the group by members of the seven military bases. The testimonies were presented by those of specific categories: a new believer told how they had come to Jesus, a growing believer told how they were being discipled, one who is discipling others told how they came into relationship with the one being discipled, and a mature disciple-maker told how to make disciple-makers.

Sunday morning we talked about the processes of the weekend: seeing disciples being trained, learning information to pass on, and practicing to pass on to another what had been learned. We told the attendees that the intention is not to sit on what they were taught nor to stuff their notes on a bureau drawer, but to ask God for one with whom they can do as they learned during the weekend.

The theme for the weekend was Philemon 1:6"I pray you are active in sharing your faith so that you may have a full understanding of every good things we have in Christ." That is my prayer for each one who came to our weekend Discipleship Practicum Retreat.

No matter where you are in relation to Jesus, “sin” is an ugly word. Just saying the word causes problems, so let’s get on the same page before moving forward. In the days and weeks to come we’ll break this down into much smaller pieces. Today is about defining our terms—and our solution.

“They should have known that he was God. His patience should have proved that to them.” (Tertullian)

“He wakes desires you never may forget; He shows you stars you never saw before.”

     (Alfred, Lord Tennyson)

“Is it any wonder that to this day this Galilean is too much for our small hearts?” (H. G. Wells)

“When Christ came into my life, I came about like a well-handled ship.” (Robert Louis Stevenson)

Here is a staggering reality that is not too good to be true—our Creator yearns to enjoy daily fellowship with us. Here is an opportunity that is not wishful thinking—our Father cordially invites us to enjoy quiet communion with Him.

The Master of the human heart stands at the door of our personality and patiently knocks. If we hear His gentle rap and open the door, He will become our greatest Friend.

Friendship with God is more than a dream—it is a dramatic adventure we can personally experience. Immanuel is God with us—a Friend nearer than our hands and feet, closer than our breathing.

Jesus is our best answer to prayer and our supreme blessing. His mercy enables us to recover from moral defeat. His grace helps us face turmoil tranquilly. His promises reassure us so we can hope perpetually. When perplexity crowds our inmost self, His consolation cheers our soul. When we need help the most, He is right beside us.

There’s no need to attempt to plot our own course through life’s storms—we can navigate by the Bright Morning Star.

Until we stroll heaven’s golden streets, we can walk earthly roads with a spring in our step—if we let Jesus take our hand.

I stand at the door and knock. If you hear my voice and open the door, I will come in, and we will share a meal together as friends. Revelation 3:20 NLT

Johnny R. Almond

Author, Gentle Whispers from Eternity

[This devotion based on Day 60 of Gentle Whispers]

Interim Pastor, Nomini Baptist Church; Montross, Virginia

Blog & book info http://GentleWhispersFromEternity-ScripturePersonalized.com/

If you’re like me, the word “anchor” has some negative connotations. For example, dictionaries say an anchor is a device for preventing or restricting a ship’s motion. I certainly don’t relish the thought of having my motion prevented or restricted, do you?

Another undesirable connotation of “anchor” is that it either ties you to where you ARE (your present circumstances) or where you’ve BEEN (your past). In either case, that kind of anchor sounds very dreary to me. Who wants to remain stuck to their present circumstances or their past?

However, the Bible describes a very different kind of anchor, one that connects us to a hope-filled future instead of to our present or our past:

We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure. It enters the inner sanctuary behind the curtain, where our forerunner, Jesus, has entered on our behalf (Hebrews 6:19-20).

While faith is a “now” kind of reality (Hebrews 11:1), hope is an optimistic attitude about our future. The writer here says God wants us to have His supernatural hope as “an anchor for the soul, firm and secure.”

Look at how revolutionary this is. While maritime anchors lock a ship in place and prevent progress, this spiritual kind of anchor is tethered to the positive future God has promised us (Jeremiah 29:11).

How do we know this? Because we’re told the anchor goes before us, tied to “our forerunner, Jesus.” It’s not an anchor that settles for our present circumstances. Quite the contrary, it’s an anchor that’s pulling us toward a whole new realm of living.

Also notice that our spiritual hope isn’t supposed to be based on anything we see around us. Just as a ship’s anchor disappears below the water line, the hope described here “enters the inner sanctuary behind the curtain.” This hope isn’t locked in to any kind of earthly circumstances or events, but rather to God’s destiny for us in the unseen realm (2 Corinthians 4:16-18).

Just as an earthly anchor will prevent a ship from drifting, an anchor of hope serves the same purpose. Yet there’s a key difference. If you pull on a maritime anchor, you will go nowhere. But when you pull on your anchor of hope, you’re propelled forward into more intimacy with Jesus and greater fulfillment of His plan for your life.

Even on cloudy days when your circumstances look bleak, you can count on this anchor to hold. Your Forerunner has already overcome death and defeat, and He’s the One your hope must be constantly anchored to.

May your soul find rest in Him today as He draws you forward into His presence and His purpose.

Now that we know who we are in Christ and have our heads on straight, now we can begin to deal with laying down our sin. We’ll explore this more broadly in the next entry, but today let’s start with one sin in particular, and arguably the most basic: Pride.