Jesus's "Great Commission" (Mt. 28:18-20) shows that our responsibility begins and ends with faith in His sufficiency. Before giving instructions, He reminds His men that He holds full authority over everything; after the charge to make disciples, He assures the apostles He will never leave them to struggle on their own. His authority was at their disposal, as long as they remembered His commands and trusted Him for strength.
Few of us, asked if that promise still holds for Christians today, would verbally deny it. Yet often our actions say that we don't believe a word of it: we focus on our weaknesses instead of on Christ's sufficiency; we forget to consult Him on any regular basis; we choose for ourselves what tasks we "should" undertake; and we rush frantically through our chosen duties as if the fate of the world depended on success and success depended on our sufficiency. No wonder we ignore opportunities to witness and teach; besides worrying about what others will think of us, we're too busy thinking about ourselves to be concerned with them!
We would discharge our responsibilities more effectively if we began and ended every planning session by reminding ourselves Who really makes the master plan.
"With you, ever with you"--what a wondrous pledge He made,
He, my soul's Redeemer; He Whose love will never fade;
He Who stays to guide me through each day of earthly strife;
He Who made this promise: "I am with you all your life."
"With you, ever with you"--He Whose presence drives out fear;
He Who gives me courage to stand firm each mortal year;
He Who lights my pathway through each dim, uncertain haze;
He Who gave His promise: "I will lead you all your days."
"With you, ever with you"--He Who cannot change or lie
Promised me His presence till I tell this world goodbye;
And, forever after, in His Kingdom I will be,
His Who made this promise: "All your joy is found in Me."
"With you, ever with you"--Lord, I know that others live
Lonely, empty, hopeless, never knowing You forgive:
Let Your presence with me show in all I do and say,
Till they learn Your promise to be with them all the way.
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Every Day He Has a Fresh Surprise
If anyone reading this is planning a surprise party for a friend or relative, consider this advice: before you go through with it, make certain you know the guest of honor well enough to be sure he or she will welcome the surprise. The traditional surprise party has been described as a perfect means of catching someone physically and emotionally unprepared to celebrate, and yet unable to express any annoyance without sounding ungrateful and churlish. My own father kept his birthday secret for most of his life, to make sure he would never fall victim to such an attack.
Even those who claim to like surprises would rather not be surprised at inconvenient moments: the sudden invitation to dinner when we're ready to drop from an exhausting day; the potential client who rings the doorbell when we're half finished cleaning the fireplace. All of us want to maintain some degree of control over our lives.
That's one reason we resist serving a God Who reserves the right to surprise us at a moment's notice. Moses was living the relatively safe and comfortable life of a shepherd when God called him to drop everything and lead the Israelites out of Egypt. Joseph was about to settle down and get married when he learned his fiancee was pregnant with the Son of God. Paul had to put up with regular last-minute changes from the day God interrupted his trip to Damascus. It would be hard to find a Bible hero or historic saint who never was caught off guard by divine instruction (verbal or circumstantial)--and many of them cooperated only after considerable argument and foot-dragging.
So when we don't want to follow surprise orders from God, we're in good company. Still, if we truly believe that He knows best and has our interests at heart, it only makes sense to act promptly on His leadings.
Even when they surprise us before we have the chance to wash up from cleaning the fireplace.
In this sad world where all may seem uncertain,
Our God is ever constant, sure, and wise--
But do not think Him also neat and tidy,
For every day He has a fresh surprise.
Our Lord is no one we can take for granted,
Who hands out favors like some contest prize,
Or Who makes rich or poor those who "deserve it"--
But every day He has a fresh surprise.
His wisdom is beyond our comprehension;
His ways are often strange to mortal eyes:
We see the pieces; He sees the whole picture--
And every day He has a fresh surprise.
Do not complain your plans have come to nothing,
But count yourself as blessed; look to the skies
Where dwells the One Who works all things for goodness;
And let yourself rejoice in each surprise.
Even those who claim to like surprises would rather not be surprised at inconvenient moments: the sudden invitation to dinner when we're ready to drop from an exhausting day; the potential client who rings the doorbell when we're half finished cleaning the fireplace. All of us want to maintain some degree of control over our lives.
That's one reason we resist serving a God Who reserves the right to surprise us at a moment's notice. Moses was living the relatively safe and comfortable life of a shepherd when God called him to drop everything and lead the Israelites out of Egypt. Joseph was about to settle down and get married when he learned his fiancee was pregnant with the Son of God. Paul had to put up with regular last-minute changes from the day God interrupted his trip to Damascus. It would be hard to find a Bible hero or historic saint who never was caught off guard by divine instruction (verbal or circumstantial)--and many of them cooperated only after considerable argument and foot-dragging.
So when we don't want to follow surprise orders from God, we're in good company. Still, if we truly believe that He knows best and has our interests at heart, it only makes sense to act promptly on His leadings.
Even when they surprise us before we have the chance to wash up from cleaning the fireplace.
In this sad world where all may seem uncertain,
Our God is ever constant, sure, and wise--
But do not think Him also neat and tidy,
For every day He has a fresh surprise.
Our Lord is no one we can take for granted,
Who hands out favors like some contest prize,
Or Who makes rich or poor those who "deserve it"--
But every day He has a fresh surprise.
His wisdom is beyond our comprehension;
His ways are often strange to mortal eyes:
We see the pieces; He sees the whole picture--
And every day He has a fresh surprise.
Do not complain your plans have come to nothing,
But count yourself as blessed; look to the skies
Where dwells the One Who works all things for goodness;
And let yourself rejoice in each surprise.
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Seek God's Glory
Fiction fans: Do you prefer happy or sad endings? Personally, I'll take a happy ending any day; but considering how many tragedies have become bestsellers and classics, many people evidently feel differently.
One possible reason is that tragedies are thought to be more "realistic," to delve deeper into the problems of humanity with the recognition that there are no happily-ever-after solutions that forever eliminate all problems (at least not in this life). Modern Christian fiction developed an unfortunate reputation for being shallow and escapist because too many writers packed their plots with obvious miracles, or wrote he-got-saved-and-lived-happily-ever-after endings. (Aspiring novelists tempted in such directions should first read articles #76 and #74 on this page.)
While becoming Christians does of course offer the promise of eventually living happily ever after, it definitely does not mean instant solutions (of our choice) to all our problems. True Christianity is, in fact, never primarily about the believer. It is about God; our creation, our redemption, our sanctification, our eternal life, and everything we go through along the way are first of all for the purpose of His glory.
Some readers' reaction to that statement will be, "I thought God did all this because He loved us. Are you saying He thinks in terms of 'every soul in heaven is a feather in My cap'?" No, I don't mean that God's love for us is any less genuine. As with the seemingly self-contradictory truth that God maintains complete control of all that happens and yet we cannot disclaim responsibility for our own actions, God's holding His own glory as the primary good and yet being totally unselfish is a paradox our limited minds can never really understand. But it's worth remembering that--unlike human beings who seek their own glory because they falsely believe they are more important than others of their own kind--God deserves it. He is more important--far more important--than anyone or anything else.
And--another holy paradox, but one thousands can confirm from experience--seeking one's own glory leads only to more and more misery, even with people who seem to have everything anyone could want. Whereas, even when outward circumstances look unbearable (and indefinitely remain so), seeking God's glory is the true route to personal peace and happiness.
If you would be free from worry and fear,
If you would live life in a state of cheer,
Then seek not yourself, promote not your own,
But seek God's glory and His will alone.
If your life is a maze of struggle and stress,
And the weight of your tasks a crushing press,
Then choose not, yourself, all that you "must" do,
But seek God's glory and His will for you.
If you would be strong in the Lord's great power,
If you would stand firm through each earthly hour,
Then do not forget God is all you need,
And seek His glory with each thought and deed.
It is He Who drives out worry and fear;
It is He Whose burden is light to bear;
It is He Who gives strength for every test--
So seek God's glory and strive for His best.
One possible reason is that tragedies are thought to be more "realistic," to delve deeper into the problems of humanity with the recognition that there are no happily-ever-after solutions that forever eliminate all problems (at least not in this life). Modern Christian fiction developed an unfortunate reputation for being shallow and escapist because too many writers packed their plots with obvious miracles, or wrote he-got-saved-and-lived-happily-ever-after endings. (Aspiring novelists tempted in such directions should first read articles #76 and #74 on this page.)
While becoming Christians does of course offer the promise of eventually living happily ever after, it definitely does not mean instant solutions (of our choice) to all our problems. True Christianity is, in fact, never primarily about the believer. It is about God; our creation, our redemption, our sanctification, our eternal life, and everything we go through along the way are first of all for the purpose of His glory.
Some readers' reaction to that statement will be, "I thought God did all this because He loved us. Are you saying He thinks in terms of 'every soul in heaven is a feather in My cap'?" No, I don't mean that God's love for us is any less genuine. As with the seemingly self-contradictory truth that God maintains complete control of all that happens and yet we cannot disclaim responsibility for our own actions, God's holding His own glory as the primary good and yet being totally unselfish is a paradox our limited minds can never really understand. But it's worth remembering that--unlike human beings who seek their own glory because they falsely believe they are more important than others of their own kind--God deserves it. He is more important--far more important--than anyone or anything else.
And--another holy paradox, but one thousands can confirm from experience--seeking one's own glory leads only to more and more misery, even with people who seem to have everything anyone could want. Whereas, even when outward circumstances look unbearable (and indefinitely remain so), seeking God's glory is the true route to personal peace and happiness.
If you would be free from worry and fear,
If you would live life in a state of cheer,
Then seek not yourself, promote not your own,
But seek God's glory and His will alone.
If your life is a maze of struggle and stress,
And the weight of your tasks a crushing press,
Then choose not, yourself, all that you "must" do,
But seek God's glory and His will for you.
If you would be strong in the Lord's great power,
If you would stand firm through each earthly hour,
Then do not forget God is all you need,
And seek His glory with each thought and deed.
It is He Who drives out worry and fear;
It is He Whose burden is light to bear;
It is He Who gives strength for every test--
So seek God's glory and strive for His best.
Monday, April 21, 2008
When Words Are Many, Sin Is Not Absent
When I started this blog, I intended to include only three or four sentences of prose commentary with each poem. Almost from the beginning, I have consistently fallen short--er, long--of that goal.
The tendency to ramble is almost universal--and makes for boring reading. That's why our teachers insisted we rewrite school papers before turning them in, and why published work of even the most experienced authors is nearly always shorter than the original drafts. It's an extremely rare writer who can avoid the compulsion to "tell all" when first getting words down on paper.
The problem is worse with the spoken word, which offers no chance to go back and edit. Today's title is lifted directly from the NIV translation of Proverbs 10:19, which also says that "he who holds his tongue is wise." For most of my life, I have regularly detoured from that wise path; even my family complains that I regularly "talk a subject to death." Usually out of determination to get the other person to admit I am absolutely and completely right, or a desire to show off my knowledge. The specific sin behind most people's "many words" is pride.
Pride is probably also behind the fact that, as Thomas a Kempis said, "it is easier to be silent altogether than to speak in moderation.” As with the proverbial bag of potato chips from which nobody can eat just one, letting out the few necessary words frequently unleashes an anything-but-necessary outpouring. "I'm sorry I did that, but [lengthy attempt to justify oneself]." "Thank you for what you did, but [long explanation as to why it fell short]." "I'm sorry for your loss, but [unwanted advice on how it could have been avoided]." Almost in midsentence, we forget the other's needs and start thinking about how we can come out looking good. Even in prayer, we talk too much, telling God what we want rather than determining to hear what He wants us to ask for.
It is impossible to follow the great commandments to love God and other people, if we would rather talk at others than listen to them.
If you would keep your loves and friends,
If you would please your Lord,
Know when the time for talking ends,
And watch your every word.
If you owe an apology,
Let that be all you say,
And spare the lengthy "But, you see..."
To justify your way.
If you are angry or upset,
Or if you disagree,
Still keep from stirring up regret
By tossing words too free.
Beware of telling all you know,
Explaining on and on,
For there the seeds of conflict grow,
And peace will soon be gone.
If you would love your God and Lord--
Your fellow humans, too--
Beware the thoughtless spoken word,
Where danger ever grew.
The tendency to ramble is almost universal--and makes for boring reading. That's why our teachers insisted we rewrite school papers before turning them in, and why published work of even the most experienced authors is nearly always shorter than the original drafts. It's an extremely rare writer who can avoid the compulsion to "tell all" when first getting words down on paper.
The problem is worse with the spoken word, which offers no chance to go back and edit. Today's title is lifted directly from the NIV translation of Proverbs 10:19, which also says that "he who holds his tongue is wise." For most of my life, I have regularly detoured from that wise path; even my family complains that I regularly "talk a subject to death." Usually out of determination to get the other person to admit I am absolutely and completely right, or a desire to show off my knowledge. The specific sin behind most people's "many words" is pride.
Pride is probably also behind the fact that, as Thomas a Kempis said, "it is easier to be silent altogether than to speak in moderation.” As with the proverbial bag of potato chips from which nobody can eat just one, letting out the few necessary words frequently unleashes an anything-but-necessary outpouring. "I'm sorry I did that, but [lengthy attempt to justify oneself]." "Thank you for what you did, but [long explanation as to why it fell short]." "I'm sorry for your loss, but [unwanted advice on how it could have been avoided]." Almost in midsentence, we forget the other's needs and start thinking about how we can come out looking good. Even in prayer, we talk too much, telling God what we want rather than determining to hear what He wants us to ask for.
It is impossible to follow the great commandments to love God and other people, if we would rather talk at others than listen to them.
If you would keep your loves and friends,
If you would please your Lord,
Know when the time for talking ends,
And watch your every word.
If you owe an apology,
Let that be all you say,
And spare the lengthy "But, you see..."
To justify your way.
If you are angry or upset,
Or if you disagree,
Still keep from stirring up regret
By tossing words too free.
Beware of telling all you know,
Explaining on and on,
For there the seeds of conflict grow,
And peace will soon be gone.
If you would love your God and Lord--
Your fellow humans, too--
Beware the thoughtless spoken word,
Where danger ever grew.
Friday, April 18, 2008
God Is Bigger than Our Troubles
Someone has commented that, in Numbers 13:17-14:38, ten of the Israelite spies to Canaan saw great giants and a little God, while only two had the faith to see a great God and little giants. The majority dwelt so much on the difficulties that they wasted the opportunity God wanted to offer them.
The more attention we give something, the bigger it looks. Anyone who has made a parachute jump or high dive knows that the drop appears longer with every second of hesitation. The same principle applies to leaps of faith; when God calls us to do something, and we procrastinate in getting started, we find more and more reasons not to go through with it.
The temptation can be greatest when the "something" is the seemingly passive act of waiting in faith for God to make a move. Few of us have the patience. If we don't attempt to solve our problems without God's help, we at least let them usurp His place at the front of our minds. We end up seeing great problems and a little God--a sure route to misery.
The best cure? Whenever your problems start to seem insurmountable, divert your thoughts to God's power and sufficiency!
God is bigger than our troubles:
When you want to fume or fret,
Think instead on all His splendor,
He on Whom our hopes are set.
God is bigger than our worries:
When your problems seem immense,
Think on all He has to give us,
Greater than our hearts can sense.
God is bigger than our sinning:
When you feel submerged in shame,
Think upon His great forgiveness,
All He paid to take our blame.
God is bigger than our feelings,
Bigger than our minds can dream:
Fill your mind with all His glory,
Till the day He reigns supreme.
The more attention we give something, the bigger it looks. Anyone who has made a parachute jump or high dive knows that the drop appears longer with every second of hesitation. The same principle applies to leaps of faith; when God calls us to do something, and we procrastinate in getting started, we find more and more reasons not to go through with it.
The temptation can be greatest when the "something" is the seemingly passive act of waiting in faith for God to make a move. Few of us have the patience. If we don't attempt to solve our problems without God's help, we at least let them usurp His place at the front of our minds. We end up seeing great problems and a little God--a sure route to misery.
The best cure? Whenever your problems start to seem insurmountable, divert your thoughts to God's power and sufficiency!
God is bigger than our troubles:
When you want to fume or fret,
Think instead on all His splendor,
He on Whom our hopes are set.
God is bigger than our worries:
When your problems seem immense,
Think on all He has to give us,
Greater than our hearts can sense.
God is bigger than our sinning:
When you feel submerged in shame,
Think upon His great forgiveness,
All He paid to take our blame.
God is bigger than our feelings,
Bigger than our minds can dream:
Fill your mind with all His glory,
Till the day He reigns supreme.
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
My Life Is the Lord's
For many, "giving to the Lord" stops with what goes into the Sunday offering plate. But if we want to become the best Christians we can be, our giving must go much further. We remain only shallow believers until we honestly say to God, "Everything in my possession--my money, my time, even my life--is Yours to use, take away, or destroy as You please."
Actually, our lives should be first on the list. Paul reported that the Macedonian Christians of his day were particularly generous with their resources because "they gave themselves first to the Lord" (2 Cor. 8:5, NIV). If we start by offering the whole package, the small details will follow naturally.
Which would you rather be: a worldly Christian keeping all you can for yourself and accomplishing only worldly goals; or a totally committed Christian who, rich or poor, is helping to advance God's Kingdom?
My work is the Lord's; every task I do,
May it be for Him and His purpose true:
He does His own work with my good in mind,
And calls me to work of the purest kind.
My mind is the Lord's, every thought a prayer;
May no bitter longing be rooted there:
He set His own mind to His people's best,
And, Christ's mind within, I can stand each test.
My heart is the Lord's; by His power above,
May my every act be performed in love:
He set His own heart on this soul of sin--
Now I can love too, by His strength within.
My life is the Lord's; every hour He'll give,
Let my one desire be for Him to live:
He gave His own life to reclaim my soul,
And only in Him can my life be whole.
My all is the Lord's: all my mind and heart;
Each thing that I do, to the smallest part;
Each minute and hour--He gives all to me,
And I, as His slave, become truly free.
Actually, our lives should be first on the list. Paul reported that the Macedonian Christians of his day were particularly generous with their resources because "they gave themselves first to the Lord" (2 Cor. 8:5, NIV). If we start by offering the whole package, the small details will follow naturally.
Which would you rather be: a worldly Christian keeping all you can for yourself and accomplishing only worldly goals; or a totally committed Christian who, rich or poor, is helping to advance God's Kingdom?
My work is the Lord's; every task I do,
May it be for Him and His purpose true:
He does His own work with my good in mind,
And calls me to work of the purest kind.
My mind is the Lord's, every thought a prayer;
May no bitter longing be rooted there:
He set His own mind to His people's best,
And, Christ's mind within, I can stand each test.
My heart is the Lord's; by His power above,
May my every act be performed in love:
He set His own heart on this soul of sin--
Now I can love too, by His strength within.
My life is the Lord's; every hour He'll give,
Let my one desire be for Him to live:
He gave His own life to reclaim my soul,
And only in Him can my life be whole.
My all is the Lord's: all my mind and heart;
Each thing that I do, to the smallest part;
Each minute and hour--He gives all to me,
And I, as His slave, become truly free.
Monday, April 14, 2008
When I See the Stars on a Country Night
Pride is the most insidious and universal of sins. It actually is the original sin, the one that led Eve to try the forbidden fruit through the attitude, "I have a right to be everything God is." Whenever we think we know better than God--whether we express this idea through blatant disobedience or through silent despair over His not giving us our own way--we reenact the Fall on a smaller scale.
Few of us fully appreciate how evil pride is. We even speak of it positively: "You've got to take some pride in your work." "Don't you have any pride?" Perhaps the general idea of self-respect, for which "pride" is often used as a synonym, isn't entirely bad; it has kept many people from violating their consciences. But when our reasoning progresses from "I couldn't stoop so low" to "I am incapable of ever doing that" to "I am too good for certain work/people/circumstances," we quickly start sliding toward serious trouble.
The best way to avoid disaster is to get in the habit of chopping down prideful thoughts before they get the chance to take over our heads. And the best "ax" for the job is forged by constantly reminding ourselves how great God is.
And how He, Who actually was too good for us, was never too proud to give His best in the face of our worst.
When I see the stars on a country night,
Or look on in awe at a swallow's flight,
Or see wildflowers bright with a hundred hues,
Or a rainbow's gleam in the airy dews,
Let me ask myself: Who am I, that He
Who made all of this, gives a thought to me?
When I start to feel that I know it all,
And that I am great and all others small,
And I have a right to some selfish whim,
Let me ask myself: Who am I, to Him
Who knows every thought in each human soul,
And sees all of time in one seamless whole?
When I start to feel pride in doing well,
Let me see how sin paints me black as hell,
How my purest deeds bear the taint of wrong,
And then ask myself: Where do I belong,
And what have I done to deserve His grace,
He in Whom no sin ever found a place?
What am I, O God, that You care for me?
Who am I, my Lord, that You stooped to see
Just how lost I was; and You found me worth
Bearing all the guilt that my sin gave birth?
I am nothing, Lord; You are pure and true:
Crush my pride, O Lord; keep my eyes on You.
Few of us fully appreciate how evil pride is. We even speak of it positively: "You've got to take some pride in your work." "Don't you have any pride?" Perhaps the general idea of self-respect, for which "pride" is often used as a synonym, isn't entirely bad; it has kept many people from violating their consciences. But when our reasoning progresses from "I couldn't stoop so low" to "I am incapable of ever doing that" to "I am too good for certain work/people/circumstances," we quickly start sliding toward serious trouble.
The best way to avoid disaster is to get in the habit of chopping down prideful thoughts before they get the chance to take over our heads. And the best "ax" for the job is forged by constantly reminding ourselves how great God is.
And how He, Who actually was too good for us, was never too proud to give His best in the face of our worst.
When I see the stars on a country night,
Or look on in awe at a swallow's flight,
Or see wildflowers bright with a hundred hues,
Or a rainbow's gleam in the airy dews,
Let me ask myself: Who am I, that He
Who made all of this, gives a thought to me?
When I start to feel that I know it all,
And that I am great and all others small,
And I have a right to some selfish whim,
Let me ask myself: Who am I, to Him
Who knows every thought in each human soul,
And sees all of time in one seamless whole?
When I start to feel pride in doing well,
Let me see how sin paints me black as hell,
How my purest deeds bear the taint of wrong,
And then ask myself: Where do I belong,
And what have I done to deserve His grace,
He in Whom no sin ever found a place?
What am I, O God, that You care for me?
Who am I, my Lord, that You stooped to see
Just how lost I was; and You found me worth
Bearing all the guilt that my sin gave birth?
I am nothing, Lord; You are pure and true:
Crush my pride, O Lord; keep my eyes on You.
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