New Every Morning

Unless you're a natural optimist and experienced achiever, the prospect of New Year's resolutions--or of "making a change" at any time of year--can start to feel like a cruel joke after age 35. "What's the use of trying again; I always fail" is a cry-of-the-heart for many who once had big dreams for building the perfect life but are now looking at their current lives in despair, thinking that if it were meant to be they'd surely have it right by now. While a toddler learning to walk will "try, try again" after a hundred or a thousand tumbles, adults are cursed with the knowledge that not everything is possible--and most of us are all too quick to turn that knowledge into the syllogism, "If something is impossible, I will fail when I try to do it. I failed when I tried to do this. Therefore, this is impossible." Instead of putting past mistakes behind us, we let them stand in front, blocking our view of future possibilities.

They are likely also blocking our view of the God of all possibility. It's not for nothing that the Bible tells us to "become like little children" and that God's eternal faithfulness is marked by mercies that are "new every morning." Probably the reason so many of us hate getting out of bed in the morning is that we have lost the ability to see the new day as truly new. We're sure that the day will only bring more of the same old miserable drudgery--and that belief quickly turns into a self-fulfilling prophecy. What little faith we have, refusing to look for new and better possibilities because we have no hope of finding any and see no point in putting ourselves to that kind of work.

Before you go to bed tonight, why not get out the concordance and look up all the times the Bible uses the word "new"? Pick four or five verses that speak of new life in God, meditate on them thoroughly, and pray that they will be on your mind when you awaken.

Then see if getting up tomorrow isn't a little easier. 

Lord, give me, just for today,

The strength to resist temptation,

Pure joy in my vocation,

A heart filled with satisfaction—

Be with me each step of the way:

Give me strength not to dread circumstances,

Nor to dwell on my own plans or actions,

But to take every moment that happens

As a gift from Your hand, I pray.

On Toward the Goal

St. Paul wrote, "I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. Brothers, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus" (Phil. 3:12b-14).

Paul knew something of ancient sporting events, which included distance races from which our modern marathon is descended. Every marathon has its share of dropouts. Some fall due to injury. Some tire prematurely because they try to run all out rather than pacing themselves. A few get called out to tend to emergencies. Some just quit because they decide it's too hard. And some, sad to say, turn aside to more attractive things on the sidelines.

They all have their counterparts in the spiritual race of life. Many a Christian has burnt out from ignoring God's command to rest regularly, or has fallen prey to the lures of this world. Then there are those who drag their feet and grumble, "No one told me it would be this much work." As Jerry Bridges noted (in Trusting God Even When Life Hurts), the marathon isn't really an adequate metaphor: "The Christian life could better be described as an obstacle course of marathon length." At least real-life marathons are run over smooth ground, without continued training after the race starts, without an enemy constantly waiting the chance to trip us.

Nonetheless, those who persevere in the Christian race will finish. A clue for those seeking encouragement when the going gets tough is found in Paul's words above: "Straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal." In other words, keep your eyes on the Heavenly vision.

Those who have the reward in clear focus waste little time bemoaning the distance between.

We are not yet made perfect, though growing;
We are not yet completely made whole;
But, as Christ made us His and works in us,
Let us press ever on toward the goal.

We have things in our past that are shameful,
But Christ’s blood cleans the filthiest soul:
So, forgetting what now lies behind us,
Let us press ever on toward the goal.

We grow tired time to time, and discouraged,
But all things still are in God’s control:
So, renewed in our faith and thus strengthened,
Let us press ever on toward the goal.

Our reward will be waiting in Heaven,
Where all things are completely made whole:
So, with eyes on the One Who has called us,
Let us press ever on toward the goal!

Time to Quit

The determination to finish what one starts is an admirable quality--until one starts applying it to tasks that never should have been started in the first place, or that are literally impossible to finish. Take it from a chronic offender. I have plowed through to the end of a 1,000-page text which had proven itself not worth reading within the first ten pages; thrown an all-out hysterical tantrum when bad weather forced the cancellation of a long-planned birthday outing (Sound like typical childhood behavior? The birthday in question was my thirty-ninth!); and forced myself to drink two quarts of milk in an hour lest part of the gallon spoil before I got to it. One stormy day, my determination not to turn back from a planned outing led me to drive into fender-deep water--and from there into an attempt to cut across "higher ground," i. e., the sidewalk, where the engine finally quit dead. That trip cost me a visit to the auto repair shop; two weeks for the interior carpets to dry out; a soaking from walking to the nearest store for shelter; and a bad chill when that store turned out to be heavily air-conditioned. Considering what's happened to some people who insisted on driving into floodwaters, that was getting off easy.

While I don't wholeheartedly endorse the idea that God always has one preferred thing for any Christian to be doing in any given moment, I do believe it possible to get obsessed with finishing something for no better reason than having started it, while ignoring the Spirit's still small whisper: "This project is not a good use of your time; put it aside, because I have better work for you." It hurts our pride to admit we never should have started something, that we used bad judgment in choosing a task, that we have invested a huge chunk of time in something not worth finishing. Even when that thing is less benign than a short drive or semi-readable reference book. Have you ever stayed for the end of a television program that had proven itself everything short of hard-core pornographic within the first five minutes? Lied to your boss rather than admit you planned a schedule you couldn't handle? Drunk wine until you couldn't stand up and then blamed the waiter for constantly refilling your glass? We don't always continue in sin because we enjoy it; sometimes we fully intend to give it up "after I just finish this last one," but keep thinking that being a "quitter" is the higher evil.

Actually, receiving God's best may require that we occasionally quit not-so-good things in the middle.

They say no quitter ever wins,
That life rewards the worker,
He who completes what he begins,
And not the duty-shirker.
But if a task proves poor indeed,
Was chosen in pure hasting,
And brings no joy and meets no need--
It's time to quit your wasting!

They say to finish what you start,
That quitting is for losers,
Persistence feeds a Christlike heart,
And God rewards firm choosers.
But if you find the steps you took
Were wrong from the beginning,
Some dazzling bait on deadly hook--
You'd better quit your sinning!

God has His tasks for us to do,
And, working at His calling,
We're honor-bound to see things through,
Lest we be tricked to falling.
But we may miss God's best for grime,
If we insist on sticking
To work that only wastes our time--
So quit--life's clock is ticking!

The Lord of All, the Only God

My church's Lent theme for this week is "worship"--the central focus of every human life. Wherever the majority of our time is directed, that is what we really worship. Judging my thought life and leisure activities by that criterion, I must worship learning, vicarious excitement, and variety for the sake of variety.

Not that any of the above are wrong in themselves, or incapable of being used for God-honoring purposes--any more than it's inherently sinful to love football, backpacking, or Web surfing. But when we say of any earthly thing, "Nothing will make me give that up even temporarily," or (if we don't want to be quite that stiff-necked), "I'll give that up only if God directly and unmistakably tells me to [and I intend to leave all possible room for doubt]"--that's a sure sign we're worshiping a created thing rather than the Creator (cf. Rom. 1:25). Whenever we convince ourselves we can't live without something, we are raising that thing to the position of God, the Source of Life.

He should also be the Master of our lives, but in the more affluent world at least, most of us are constantly trying to displace Him. Not that we consciously tell Him to go away and not bother us, but we do effectively the same thing whenever we make plans without considering how He may feel about it. Or when we're actually afraid to ask, in case He disagrees with us. Or when we "go through the motions" of weekly church attendance and daily Bible reading and then assume we've "done our part"--even though we never once made conscious effort to listen for His guidance or otherwise learn anything.

Jesus warned us in Mt. 6:24 (NIV) that "no one can serve two masters. Either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and Money." Or Knowledge, or Food, or Entertainment, or any of the other earthly things that clamor for our loyalty. Frightening thought: if we let these claim our devotion, we are not politely asking God to wait; we are effectively despising Him!

Such an attitude is as universal as it is foolish. Since temporary things are so obvious, it is easy to begin relying on them. Focusing on God and His Word is considerable work by comparison. Considerable work--but essential if we want to make spiritual progress.

We can be grateful, however, that God is not only patient with our failures, but is Himself the true Strength that, bit by bit, overcomes our weaknesses.

The Lord of All, the Only God,
Demands each life in full:
But still we try to serve this world,
Drawn off by its strong pull.

My great Creator, fill my soul:
All other loves dethrone,
Till I forget all lesser things,
And You are Lord Alone.

Our God, Who made the sea and skies,
Is Lord of all that is:
But earthly things distract our thoughts,
And take from what is His.

My great Creator, fill my soul:
All other loves dethrone,
Till I forget all lesser things,
And You are Lord Alone.

Our Father made our minds and souls,
And gives our lives each breath:
But still, our sinful hearts prefer
The road that ends in death.

My great Creator, fill my soul:
All other loves dethrone,
Till I forget all lesser things,
And You are Lord Alone.

Our Savior gave His life for us,
To make our way to heaven:
But we prefer earth's fleeting joys
To all that He has given.

My great Creator, fill my soul:
All other loves dethrone,
Till I forget all lesser things,
And You are Lord Alone.

The Holy Spirit guides our lives,
Gives strength to meet each test:
But we ignore His voice and let
The good crowd out the best.

My great Creator, fill my soul:
All other loves dethrone,
Till I forget all lesser things,
And You are Lord Alone.

We dare not trust our mortal strength
To keep us in God's ways:
No, we must trust His power and help,
And give to Him our praise.

My great Creator, fill my soul:
All other loves dethrone,
Till I forget all lesser things,
And You are Lord Alone.

My great Creator, fill my soul:
All other loves dethrone,
Till I forget all lesser things,
And You are Lord Alone.