Tag Archives: grace

Know Your Enemy

24 Saturday Sep 2016

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Black-maned male African lion roaring, headshot, Africa

“Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil walks about like a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour. Resist him.” 1 Peter 5:8, 9

The enemy is very busy with today’s Christians.

Busy getting friends to turn on each other because their opposing views become offensive and that offense becomes more valuable than the love they used to have for each other.

Busy getting us to one-up each other in sarcasm and rhetoric rather than outdo each other in love, mercy, grace, and kindness.

Busy getting Christians more concerned about issues than souls, more condemning of others than forgiving, more critical of others than prayerful, more determined to make a worldly point than testify of the goodness, faithfulness, and sovereignty of the Living God.

The enemy is very busy with today’s Christians.

Busy inciting fear, hatred, violence, injustice, retaliation, bitterness, separatism, vengeance, murder, and deception in the world, and busy getting Christians to join the ranks in picking worldly sides and buy into it from a worldly perspective, while we completely ignore his handiwork from the shadows.

He’s very busy there–in the shadows, recruiting the same souls for destruction that we should be turning to the Messiah. Recruiting us to rally for a candidate or a cause rather than look with compassion on the lost. Recruiting us to redefine “the lost” and to use our own judgment for determining who’s worthy of compassion and forgiveness. Recruiting us to look at skin or uniform color rather than the soul inside. Distracting our attention away from who and what we really wrestle against.

The enemy has convinced many of us to ignore that in our anger we should not sin, that the very sins we condemn others for we ourselves commit or have committed, that those sinning against us are in need of the same grace and repentance we have been given, that we are to love our neighbors and enemies, bless those who curse us, pray for those who persecute and spitefully use us, and not resist an evil person.

The enemy is busy getting us to live like desperate citizens of a lost world rather than confident children of the Almighty God. Children who have the wisdom that is from above, which is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, willing to yield, full of mercy, without partiality and without hypocrisy.

He’s busy getting us so angry that we become unforgiving, and in becoming unforgiving we forget how our own sins ripped through Christ’s flesh.

He is busy convincing us that God is silent. And that if God is silent we should be shouting. At the world. Not crying out to our Father. Together. United.

The enemy is very busy with today’s Christians. He is busy keeping us subjected to the influence of media and away from the instruction of God’s throne. He is busy trying to make us look and feel hostile, sarcastic, furious, forgotten, forsaken, indifferent, uncaring, hard-hearted, and hopeless. He is busy trying to make us look and act like him.

Resist him.

“For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this age, against spiritual hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places.” Ephesians 6:12

 

Who Are You?

01 Wednesday Jul 2015

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Mirror in desert

“Search me, O God and know my heart; try me, and know my anxieties; and see if there is any wicked way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.”
Psalm 139:23-24

I’ve had recent cause to suffer a great amount of indignation over a situation involving a loved one.

Though I’ll spare the details, I’ll share what I learned from the experience.

I think I know myself pretty well. When conflict arises I tend to avoid confrontation, pray about most things and ignore others. If particularly agitated I may vent, but otherwise I try to take the high road.

Not so in this case–in heart anyway. By the grace of God I kept my mouth shut, because there were a million things I wanted to say, a billion ways I wanted to react, few of them godly. I was furious–an emotion foreign enough to me that I smiled when I felt it.

I know. Crazy-lady scary.

The loved one is dear to me, but not someone I absolutely have to keep in my life. So great was the affront and pain it caused, I considered walking away completely.

Then I noticed my husband. He bore the offense with grace. Though it crushed his left cheek, he gave his right to be struck. He took it with dignity, and loved all the more.

When I married him I believed him a peacemaker. He lived up to that belief. The same situation showed me, however, things in my heart I didn’t know were there, and other things lacking that I thought were full.

And though I don’t like this trial–loathe it actually–I see its purpose, or at least the good that can come from it.

Some of us go through life thinking we’re Davids, men and women after God’s own heart. Then tragedy strikes and we learn our name is really Solomon. We started strong but don’t finish well.

Others think we have the faith of Sarah, who believed God’s word that she would conceive despite her old age. Yet offense appears and we find we have her vindictiveness instead.

And then there are the Sampsons who walk in God’s strength with boldness, but temptation comes and cuts them down where they stand.

I was vindictive Sarah that day, and many days afterwards. I wanted this person to suffer. I knew how to strike back, and I craved to do it. But in the end I relented.

Because, like Joseph, I fear the Lord.

God, in His goodness, is constantly shaping us, revealing the character of our hearts, giving us free will to do something about it.

Despite our temporary failures, we can still be Davids, Joshuas, Josephs, Hannahs, Ruths, Abigails.

We just have to choose to be.

Your turn: Who are you?

Don’t Lose the Wonder

14 Saturday Mar 2015

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“Nevertheless I have this against you, that you have left your first love.”
~Revelation 2:4~

My kids and I walked through the parking lot looking for our car.

“Ooh, a bird!” I pointed to a cute little sparrow as it hopped out from behind a tire. My youngest looked to where I pointed, her eyes rounding in a brief second of interest, then she resumed the story she’d been telling to her older siblings. Those two barely glanced.

I frowned, remembering how fascinated all of my children used to be whenever they saw an animal. They’d tug on my sleeve, grab my face in their little hands, point, clap, and squeal. “A bird! A dog! A horse!”

Nowadays, after hundreds of dogs and thousands of birds, they’re a little less impressed.

It’s to be expected. When new things–new wonders–become the norm, we don’t get as excited about them as we used to. And that’s okay for the less important stuff.

Other things are meant to awe us for a lifetime: our children, our marriages, the grace of each new day.

More than anything, when we consider the great mystery of salvation–that this Jesus humbled Himself, left glory, became a man, served the least, and endured the Cross, all before sitting at the right hand of the Father, where He daily intercedes on behalf of His own–we should never lose the wonder, never cease to be amazed.

When His sacrifice becomes a common thing to us, so does He. He shows Himself mighty, and we barely glance.

Every bird, from the tiny sparrow in the parking lot, to the eagle soaring on high, knows its Maker. Every dawn is made new. The wind and waves obey Him. From the highest height to the lowest depth, He sees what dwells there.

He is mindful of man, slow to anger, abounding in love and kindness; and yet it is a dreadful thing to fall into His hands. He is mighty, eternal, holy, and good. We are not. And yet He died for us.

Consider daily the greatness of your first and greatest love.

And be filled with wonder.

Mercy Despised

15 Friday Aug 2014

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chains

Not too long ago I had a wrestling match with my youngest daughter, something we do quite often. This particular day I had to cut our bout short.

I trapped her legs between mine, clamped her arms to her sides and her back to my chest in a one-armed hug, and applied enough pressure so that she could accomplish little more than a wiggle.

She laughed.

“You want me to let go?” I stuck my nose in her neck to tickle-torture an affirmative out of her. After squirming just to double-check my grip, she agreed. “Okay, okay. Let me go.”

“Say ‘mercy.'”

She stiffened. Struggled a little more. Shook her head.

“You want me to let go don’t you?” Nod. “Then say ‘mercy.'” Vigorous head shaking. Then the real battle began. She flexed and pushed and strained and twisted. Breath held. Shoulders stiff. Feet jerking in short kicks.

I held on, amazed by her obstinacy. Between laughing and having to reestablish my hold (she’s a strong one), I’d repeat, “Say ‘mercy.'” And she’d respond with a firm, “No.” Her giggling petered out as she got frustrated.

She wanted me to let go. That had already been established. And she was more than willing to take my offer of mercy if it were unconditional. But a formal surrender? Too proud for that. So proud, in fact, she was willing to get deeper into bondage by struggling, rather than simply say the word “mercy” and receive freedom.

Astounding.

Of course I let her go once her “ha, ha, ha” weakened to “he, he, he” and then became “wa, wa, wa.” She’s four. Smack a kiss on that stubborn cheek and set her free.

It didn’t escape me, however, that the response to Christ by many is sadly no different from that of a pre-schooler. We despise the idea of surrender. And in doing so, despise mercy as well.

There’s bondage aplenty: spiritual, physical, financial, sexual, and too many more to name. If it exists, we splash in it, swim in it, or plunge right in to drown in it.

And if mercy is our unconditional right, if we can live like we want and spend our days how we wish, and Christ’s blood is still for the taking without us ever doing the asking, then by all means shower some mercy on us.

But ask? Surrender? Lay down our pride and open our mouths and admit, “I need You. I can’t do this on my own. I confess that You died for me. I confess You as the only way to forgiveness, the only One who can grant me eternal life, the only One who can save me.”

We’d rather stay where we are–no, descend further into the depths–in our struggle to refuse Him.

It’s a grievous irony, this fight to stay in bondage at the expense of victory which comes through surrender. This wanting to live forever but not wanting the Way, the Truth and the Life. This desire to do it all on our own.

When. We. Simply. Cannot.

The mercy of God in Christ is life. He won’t force it on us, but He is ever offering it to us. Let us not despise it.

“For You, Lord, are good, and ready to forgive, and abundant in mercy to all those who call upon You.” ~Psalm 86:5

 

 

The Value of Grace

01 Thursday Aug 2013

Posted by in Faith, Relationships, and Other Topics, Short Stories, Songs, and Poetry

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Value A:
I know I’m not perfect
So why even try?
Don’t want too much Jesus
Just some of his pie
And you there, don’t judge me
Hold onto that stone
Who made you my keeper?
My life is my own
I’m free now, He said it
I’ll live as I choose
Your talk about walk
Don’t apply to these shoes
My sins have been paid
My failure erased
Try daily for holy????
Ain’t you heard of grace?

Value B:
I know I’m not perfect
But sin breaks my heart
Today I may stumble
The next’s a new start
To live it for Jesus
This life He redeemed
And walk so that in me
His name is esteemed
If I get distracted
Or wander astray
Encourage, correct me
And more ’til that Day
Though you may not know me
Our Father’s the same
And we have a duty
To GLORY that name!
Christ suffered my judgment
Then died in my place
I’ll not dare forget that
Nor cheapen His grace

Which is yours?

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A Little Tact, Please

16 Tuesday Jul 2013

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argument

Years ago, in a modest California home on a crowded California couch, I sat next to my Great-Grandmother who was visiting with my parents for a few weeks.

Remote in hand, I flipped through their zillion channels for something suitable to watch. It went a little like this:

Click. Pause. Interesting? No. Click. Pause. Seen it. Click. “Bleep, bleep, bleep, get your bleeping, bleep, bleep…”

If there were a record for the world’s worst remote control fumble, I’d have it, because I dropped that thing about five times before I could finally get a grip strong enough to turn off the television. I felt like I’d just been on the receiving end of a hefty slapping session.

I was humiliated to have subjected my Great-Grandmother to that.

In the same way, whenever there is a social or political issue that drives passionate exchange between differing views, I get flustered and humiliated when I see, hear, or read about Christians expressing themselves with insult, crude language, and in-your-face hostility.

Can we disagree with people without name-calling? “Speak evil of no one.” (Titus 3:2)

Can we talk about someone we didn’t vote for without insult? “It is written, you shall not speak evil of a ruler of your people.” (Acts 23:5)

Can we have healthy exchange without it being a volley of sarcasm and anger? “Let your speech be always full of grace, seasoned with salt.” (Colossians 4:6)

Can we stop being right long enough to be compassionate about another person? “Knowledge puffs up, but love edifies.” (1 Corinthians 8:1)

Can we consider that what we say in the name of our Master is a reflection of that very name, and choose to honor Him instead of doling out pieces of our minds at every turn? “Men will have to give account on the day of judgment for every careless word they have spoken.” (Matthew 12:36)

Can we, as Christians, just have a little tact? Please.

Titus 3:1-15