I woke up this morning. So did my husband, all four of my children, and even the dog. So far, that has happened each morning since each of us was born. Amazing, isn't it? And yet, how often does that fact even occur to me? How often am I truly thankful for the simple gifts of life and health and peace? How often am I even aware that I have them, rather than only being aware of all the trials in my life?
Our youngest son is a means God is using to teach me to be more aware of His daily care for us and to be more thankful that He continues to preserve us.
When our son was born after a very healthy pregnancy and normal delivery, the cord was wrapped around his neck and he stopped breathing. He was plopped on my lap for all of five seconds and then briskly swiped away to the resuscitation table, as the midwife realized that he hadn't recovered from the trauma. She was able to get him breathing again, and he's been an energizer bunny of a boy ever since. But in the probably only 2 minutes that felt like an eternity while she worked on him with the oxygen pump, Nathan and I faced the very real possibility that modern medicine might fail and our newborn son might die before we'd even really had a good look at him. What a relief when he let out a hearty cry and was restored to my arms! God preserved his life that day, and we were well aware of it.
A few years later, our basement flooded in the middle of the night. We were alerted to this by our older son who had gotten up to use the washroom, and had climbed down off his bed into a few inches of water (the kids all sleep in the basement). After getting everybody up and dealing with the immediate tasks needed to bring down the water level, we began the work of drying everything out, including our younger son's mattress, which had been on the floor, as he had just recently moved out of the crib. It was at that point that we realized that if the water had risen only another couple inches, his mattress would have been submerged, and he might not have woken up that day. God had preserved his life again, and we were again well aware of it.
Last week at the library, this same little boy wandered away, and by the time I realized he was gone, his search for me had taken him outside into the parking lot. He was noticed, and I was called to collect him at the front desk, but that could have ended very badly. Thankfully, he was under God's watchful eye, even when he had escaped mine, and God preserved him.
But that boy is a risk taker, and it is not unlikely that each and every day of his life, God has kept him from some fatal danger that we weren't even aware of!
We are so quick to grieve when God takes something precious away from us. We don't often restrain ourselves from complaint when God brings adverse circumstances into our day. We are anxious about whether our kids will die of SIDS, or by being hit by a car, or by falling down the stairs, or by drowning, and we are so slow to entrust them and their lives to our Father in Heaven. And yet, how many times has He already spared them, unbeknownst to us? How many times has He kept us from the likely results of our own foolishness? How many times has Satan asked to sift us like wheat, and God has replied, "No, not this time"? How many times has God stayed His hand, and restrained wrath? How many times have we been given life when we deserved death?
We've had tragedy in our lives. We've had two children that we never had the chance to meet, due to miscarriage. We've experienced health emergencies, deaths among our extended family and friends, serious financial loss, the consequences of divorce and more. But if I spend more time asking "Why?" about these sad circumstances than I do praising God for all the times those things could have happened and didn't, my vision is skewed.
We often hear the question, "If God is so good (and so powerful), why does He allow suffering?" Allow me to turn the question on its head: If God is not good (and all powerful), why does He so often hold the suffering back? If God were not in control, how much more often would our lives fall apart? How much more often would we be under the vicious attacks of the devil? How many more days would there be when someone didn't wake up?
"Though I walk in the midst of trouble, you preserve my life; you stretch out your hand against the wrath of my enemies, and your right hand delivers me. The LORD will fulfill his purpose for me; your steadfast love, O LORD, endures forever." (Psalm 138:7-8a)
Monday, July 30, 2012
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
Cellar Rats and Other Ugly Creatures
I believe in the sovereignty of God. I mean, I've heard it all my life. I've read about it in Scripture countless times. I even wrote a blog post about it the other week. I've got that one down pat, right? "Just remember, when chaos comes, look to the throne sitting over that calm, calm sea!"
Um... well, in the interest of full disclosure, that's not always the way it goes. I'm a sinner just like the rest of you, and I struggle to believe just like every other pilgrim on this journey. I can write a confident blog post one day about the God who controls our chaos, and only a few days later, I can completely forget to believe those very words and react wrongly when things don't go according to plan. Case in point:
Last Saturday (all of 3 days after said blog post), we took a much anticipated trip to Niagara-on-the-Lake to watch a couple of 1812 battle reenactments and enjoy the day together as a family. We got away a little later than planned, and then hit heavy traffic which turned the 1.5 hour drive into almost 3 hours, so we arrived just as the first battle was beginning. Selfless creature that I am (ha! read on to see how true that one is), I volunteered to drop everyone off and find a parking spot, figuring that I'd rejoin the family quickly. Unfortunately, by the time I'd found a spot and had run most of the way back to the event, it was just wrapping up. I'd missed it. I was quite disappointed, but tried to console myself with the thought that there was another battle coming later in the day. We spent about a hour lounging peacefully by the sea, but the inner turmoil was quietly brewing. Then began a series of unexpected and/or irritating little events that churned that inner turmoil up into a full-blown emotional thunder storm, just waiting to burst. I'm pretty sure that Nathan had noticed that I was NOT okay, but I thought to myself that I could keep things under control. That is, until we were not able to get close enough to the second battle to see things very well, and at precisely the same time as I realized this, my 4-year-old dropped a "very important" paper toy he'd made into a hole where it was irretrievable. He started into a fit, and that was the last straw. There were no thrones or calm seas or any thoughts really related to God at all in my head or heart... Just anger and selfishness, and a grown woman kept from an all-out childish temper tantrum only by the very public surroundings I was in. I'm pretty sure that if it would not have resulted in hundreds of eyes staring at me as I was carried out by a security guard, I would have thrown myself down on the grass and kicked and screamed through angry tears. As it was, I managed to hold back the flood gates (mostly), but my thoughts were just as sinful as the actions would have been.
Thankfully, God did not leave me there. He gave me a husband who patiently called me back to reality. He gave me eyes to see what ugly creatures were residing in that heart of mine. He gave me eyes to see how much I am still very much in need of a Saviour. And He has given me eyes to see that the penalty for my heart's temper tantrum is already paid. I'm forgiven.
But the point remains that my initial response to the chaos was not faith, but unbelief. And as Dane Ortlund says, in his excellent book Defiant Grace:
"Isn't what first pops out of us when a trial washes over us the truest indicator of the actual state of our hearts--the way we react before we have time to catch ourselves and pass our response through the filter of how we want others to perceive us? As C.S. Lewis put it, 'If there are rats in a cellar you are most likely to see them if you go in very suddenly. But the suddenness does not create the rats; it only prevents them from hiding.'"
Perhaps it's ironic that I had just read that paragraph Saturday morning before the trial. And yet still, the cellar rats came out to play. Oh, that my heart might truly believe what is true, and respond with faith at the get-go!
Lord, I believe! Help my unbelief!
Um... well, in the interest of full disclosure, that's not always the way it goes. I'm a sinner just like the rest of you, and I struggle to believe just like every other pilgrim on this journey. I can write a confident blog post one day about the God who controls our chaos, and only a few days later, I can completely forget to believe those very words and react wrongly when things don't go according to plan. Case in point:
Last Saturday (all of 3 days after said blog post), we took a much anticipated trip to Niagara-on-the-Lake to watch a couple of 1812 battle reenactments and enjoy the day together as a family. We got away a little later than planned, and then hit heavy traffic which turned the 1.5 hour drive into almost 3 hours, so we arrived just as the first battle was beginning. Selfless creature that I am (ha! read on to see how true that one is), I volunteered to drop everyone off and find a parking spot, figuring that I'd rejoin the family quickly. Unfortunately, by the time I'd found a spot and had run most of the way back to the event, it was just wrapping up. I'd missed it. I was quite disappointed, but tried to console myself with the thought that there was another battle coming later in the day. We spent about a hour lounging peacefully by the sea, but the inner turmoil was quietly brewing. Then began a series of unexpected and/or irritating little events that churned that inner turmoil up into a full-blown emotional thunder storm, just waiting to burst. I'm pretty sure that Nathan had noticed that I was NOT okay, but I thought to myself that I could keep things under control. That is, until we were not able to get close enough to the second battle to see things very well, and at precisely the same time as I realized this, my 4-year-old dropped a "very important" paper toy he'd made into a hole where it was irretrievable. He started into a fit, and that was the last straw. There were no thrones or calm seas or any thoughts really related to God at all in my head or heart... Just anger and selfishness, and a grown woman kept from an all-out childish temper tantrum only by the very public surroundings I was in. I'm pretty sure that if it would not have resulted in hundreds of eyes staring at me as I was carried out by a security guard, I would have thrown myself down on the grass and kicked and screamed through angry tears. As it was, I managed to hold back the flood gates (mostly), but my thoughts were just as sinful as the actions would have been.
Thankfully, God did not leave me there. He gave me a husband who patiently called me back to reality. He gave me eyes to see what ugly creatures were residing in that heart of mine. He gave me eyes to see how much I am still very much in need of a Saviour. And He has given me eyes to see that the penalty for my heart's temper tantrum is already paid. I'm forgiven.
But the point remains that my initial response to the chaos was not faith, but unbelief. And as Dane Ortlund says, in his excellent book Defiant Grace:
"Isn't what first pops out of us when a trial washes over us the truest indicator of the actual state of our hearts--the way we react before we have time to catch ourselves and pass our response through the filter of how we want others to perceive us? As C.S. Lewis put it, 'If there are rats in a cellar you are most likely to see them if you go in very suddenly. But the suddenness does not create the rats; it only prevents them from hiding.'"
Perhaps it's ironic that I had just read that paragraph Saturday morning before the trial. And yet still, the cellar rats came out to play. Oh, that my heart might truly believe what is true, and respond with faith at the get-go!
Lord, I believe! Help my unbelief!
Friday, July 20, 2012
Glorious Work
"So God created man in his own image,
in the image of God he created him;
male and female he created them.
in the image of God he created him;
male and female he created them.
And God blessed them. And God said to them,“Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth and subdue it, and have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the heavens and over every living thing that moves on the earth...” When no bush of the field was yet in the land and no small plant of the field had yet sprung up—for the Lord God had not caused it to rain on the land, and there was no man to work the ground, and a mist was going up from the land and was watering the whole face of the ground—then the Lord God formed the man of dust from the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living creature... The Lord God took the man and put him in the garden of Eden to work it and keep it... Now out of the ground the Lord God had formed every beast of the field and every bird of the heavens and brought them to the man to see what he would call them. And whatever the man called every living creature, that was its name. The man gave names to all livestock and to the birds of the heavens and to every beast of the field." (Genesis 1:27-28, 2:5-7,15,19-20a)
I spend a lot of time reading the New Testament, but whenever I go back and read the Old Testament, I consistently find amazing ideas that I've never caught before. This morning was no exception. I've read the account of the creation of man dozens of times, but today, I was particularly struck by all the details here in relation to man's* work. It's a common misconception that work is a result of the Fall, that man is cursed to work because he sinned. But work is actually something humans are given to do when they are first created. The curse turned work into drudgery and toil, slavish labour for the mere necessities of life. But before sin was ever in the world, humans were created to work.
And what is the nature of the work they are given? They are given the work of ruling creation, of kingship ("dominion") over all that God has made. It is a kingship under the authority and empire of the Creator, but it is kingship nonetheless. And as if that weren't enough, humans are not only given this role as some sort of afterthought--"Oh, these creatures I've made should be put to use." This ruling role is so essential to the proper running of creation that God doesn't allow the plants in the garden to spring up until there is a man to care for them. I'm pretty sure God could have cared for those plants Himself, but in His love for the man He has created in His own image, and in His incredible humility, He plans to bestow this kingly work on man instead. And to show the extent of man's rule, He does something that to me is shocking and glorious all at the same time. Adam gets to name all the animals! Do you get that? God creates a series of masterpieces, each one carefully fashioned by His creative and powerful word, and then He gives them to Adam and says, "Here! You tell me what my artwork should be called!" What indescribable honour!
And what is the nature of the work they are given? They are given the work of ruling creation, of kingship ("dominion") over all that God has made. It is a kingship under the authority and empire of the Creator, but it is kingship nonetheless. And as if that weren't enough, humans are not only given this role as some sort of afterthought--"Oh, these creatures I've made should be put to use." This ruling role is so essential to the proper running of creation that God doesn't allow the plants in the garden to spring up until there is a man to care for them. I'm pretty sure God could have cared for those plants Himself, but in His love for the man He has created in His own image, and in His incredible humility, He plans to bestow this kingly work on man instead. And to show the extent of man's rule, He does something that to me is shocking and glorious all at the same time. Adam gets to name all the animals! Do you get that? God creates a series of masterpieces, each one carefully fashioned by His creative and powerful word, and then He gives them to Adam and says, "Here! You tell me what my artwork should be called!" What indescribable honour!
Yes, it now involves weeds, drought, blood, sweat and tears, but we are still given the glorious and weighty task of ruling the earth, until the day when Christ returns and we rule with him over all the nations. What joy that brings to my labour today as I seek to rule under God as queen of my little sphere and hope in the promise of a new heavens and new earth where we will reign with Him and our honourable, hearty work will no longer involve resistance or drudgery.
*I use "man" here, and throughout the post in the generic. This applies to both men and women.
*I use "man" here, and throughout the post in the generic. This applies to both men and women.
Monday, July 16, 2012
When My Pastor Speaks
I've spent the last couple weeks going over my notes from the TGCW Conference, and as I've reread the passages and made a neater, more concise set of personal notes, I've gotten to thinking about how infrequently I do this on a regular week after my regular local church service. I mean, I used to take good notes every Sunday until the notebook and pen were replaced by wriggling babies. But the babies are older now, and I almost always have my hands free during the service. At some point I heard some defense of trading in note-taking for better, more attentive listening, and thought I'd give it a try. And then I just got lazy. Now it may be true that you miss a few things when you're busy taking notes. But whether you take notes or not (and from my own experience, note-taking does help concepts stick in your head, and you have the opportunity to review them later), when was the last time you spent Monday morning revisiting the Scripture passage from Sunday, meditating on it, praying for the Spirit's help to apply your pastor's sermon? These days, when many churches make the sermons available online, you can even go back and listen to it again for all those things you missed while you were taking notes. But while many people who've been to a conference with world-renowned preachers hang on their every word and spend time later meditating on the truths they've heard, those same people (myself admittedly included) often come distracted to church on Sunday and the sermon is out of their minds by the end of the day, never to be thought of again. My brothers and sisters, this should not be so!
Yes, it's been said before, but I need a refresher, so here are 6 reasons why it's actually MORE important to listen attentively to and meditate on your pastor's sermons than John Piper's or Tim Keller's (unless, of course, they are your local church pastor!):
1) Your pastor labours for you
C.J. Mahaney does not know you. He is not praying for you by name. Your burdens and joys are not his. But your pastor does know you, pray for you and share your life and that of the other members of your local church. So when he speaks, he is speaking to YOU--someone he cares for, someone whose trials and celebrations he knows and can speak directly into. And he puts in countless hours of study and preparation to bring God's Word to you. Listen to him. He is your God-given shepherd, and he is working for you. (1 Thess. 2:7-12, 5:12,13)
2) Your pastor is accountable for you
When he stands before the judgment seat of Christ on the last day, he will have to give an account for his leadership and care of the flock he was assigned. If he has not led faithfully, that will be his to answer for, but if he has been faithful and you have not listened, will you want to answer for that? And he knows that he carries the burden of care for your soul, so when he speaks, he speaks with that weight on his shoulders. Matt Chandler will not be asked about his care of you, but your pastor will. So your pastor's words should carry more weight with you. Labour to make his accounting a joy and not a sorrow! (Hebrews 3:17, 1 Corinthians 4:1-5)
3) Your pastor speaks the passions and visions of your local body
Every church has slightly different emphases and visions. Mars Hill looks different from Redeemer, which looks different from Bethlehem, which looks different from Covenant Life. They all look a little different from your church. And that's okay! They are led by different men with different styles and visions. As long as the gospel is central, we should seek to embrace the community and passions of our local church (as far as they are in accordance with Scripture, of course). And these passions are primarily caught from the pulpit. If we are not listening, or are listening more attentively to Mark Driscoll (or insert other big name here), we will have a vision that differs from our own church, and it will be very difficult for our leaders to take us in the direction they believe God has for our church. Which leads me to...
4) It brings unity to the body
If in a local church, we are all listening to the same man (or men) each week, and seeking to understand and apply the messages, we will all be on the same path together, learning together, working together, envisioning the future together, passionate about the same things. This makes for a glorious unity of purpose within the local church, better enables each member of the body to do its part for the whole, and often gives the church a more active, visible presence in the broader community. (Ephesians 4:11-16)
5) Your pastor speaks Christ to you
You would not ignore Christ if He spoke to you face-to-face. You would certainly run home and try to get it down on paper, and return to your notes often, seeking to diligently apply all that he had said. Well, when God's Word is faithfully preached, Christ is there by his Spirit, speaking to you. If we would not ignore Christ in the flesh, we should not ignore Him when He speaks through His servants. And yes, they may err. They may not preach perfectly. But if your pastor is a godly, faithful man, when he addresses you with the Word, you'd best believe that Christ is there in the bulk of it. And if there is error, how will you know unless you spend time poring over the same texts, revisiting and meditating on your notes? (2 Corinthians 4:1-6, 5:18-20, Acts 17:11)
6)You need food more than once a year!
A conference is a feast: piles of messages by articulate, charismatic speakers--so many, in fact, that you often feel like you're about to burst before it's even over. But just like you still need to eat the day after Thanksgiving (or at least by the second day!), you can't live on a once-a-year spiritual feast either. You need a regular diet of God-glorifying, Gospel-centred truth from the Scriptures. It's great to have a little growth spurt after a sermon by Don Carson, but it won't keep you alive for very long if you don't make use of the regular food source at your own church. Enjoy the conference, learn from it! But don't starve yourself when it's over! (Hebrews 10:24-25)
Have I convinced you yet? Because I've convinced myself :) I think this Sunday will find me with pen and paper in hand, ready to listen, learn and apply.
Yes, it's been said before, but I need a refresher, so here are 6 reasons why it's actually MORE important to listen attentively to and meditate on your pastor's sermons than John Piper's or Tim Keller's (unless, of course, they are your local church pastor!):
1) Your pastor labours for you
C.J. Mahaney does not know you. He is not praying for you by name. Your burdens and joys are not his. But your pastor does know you, pray for you and share your life and that of the other members of your local church. So when he speaks, he is speaking to YOU--someone he cares for, someone whose trials and celebrations he knows and can speak directly into. And he puts in countless hours of study and preparation to bring God's Word to you. Listen to him. He is your God-given shepherd, and he is working for you. (1 Thess. 2:7-12, 5:12,13)
2) Your pastor is accountable for you
When he stands before the judgment seat of Christ on the last day, he will have to give an account for his leadership and care of the flock he was assigned. If he has not led faithfully, that will be his to answer for, but if he has been faithful and you have not listened, will you want to answer for that? And he knows that he carries the burden of care for your soul, so when he speaks, he speaks with that weight on his shoulders. Matt Chandler will not be asked about his care of you, but your pastor will. So your pastor's words should carry more weight with you. Labour to make his accounting a joy and not a sorrow! (Hebrews 3:17, 1 Corinthians 4:1-5)
3) Your pastor speaks the passions and visions of your local body
Every church has slightly different emphases and visions. Mars Hill looks different from Redeemer, which looks different from Bethlehem, which looks different from Covenant Life. They all look a little different from your church. And that's okay! They are led by different men with different styles and visions. As long as the gospel is central, we should seek to embrace the community and passions of our local church (as far as they are in accordance with Scripture, of course). And these passions are primarily caught from the pulpit. If we are not listening, or are listening more attentively to Mark Driscoll (or insert other big name here), we will have a vision that differs from our own church, and it will be very difficult for our leaders to take us in the direction they believe God has for our church. Which leads me to...
4) It brings unity to the body
If in a local church, we are all listening to the same man (or men) each week, and seeking to understand and apply the messages, we will all be on the same path together, learning together, working together, envisioning the future together, passionate about the same things. This makes for a glorious unity of purpose within the local church, better enables each member of the body to do its part for the whole, and often gives the church a more active, visible presence in the broader community. (Ephesians 4:11-16)
5) Your pastor speaks Christ to you
You would not ignore Christ if He spoke to you face-to-face. You would certainly run home and try to get it down on paper, and return to your notes often, seeking to diligently apply all that he had said. Well, when God's Word is faithfully preached, Christ is there by his Spirit, speaking to you. If we would not ignore Christ in the flesh, we should not ignore Him when He speaks through His servants. And yes, they may err. They may not preach perfectly. But if your pastor is a godly, faithful man, when he addresses you with the Word, you'd best believe that Christ is there in the bulk of it. And if there is error, how will you know unless you spend time poring over the same texts, revisiting and meditating on your notes? (2 Corinthians 4:1-6, 5:18-20, Acts 17:11)
6)You need food more than once a year!
A conference is a feast: piles of messages by articulate, charismatic speakers--so many, in fact, that you often feel like you're about to burst before it's even over. But just like you still need to eat the day after Thanksgiving (or at least by the second day!), you can't live on a once-a-year spiritual feast either. You need a regular diet of God-glorifying, Gospel-centred truth from the Scriptures. It's great to have a little growth spurt after a sermon by Don Carson, but it won't keep you alive for very long if you don't make use of the regular food source at your own church. Enjoy the conference, learn from it! But don't starve yourself when it's over! (Hebrews 10:24-25)
Have I convinced you yet? Because I've convinced myself :) I think this Sunday will find me with pen and paper in hand, ready to listen, learn and apply.
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
Chaos Controlled
"At once I was in the Spirit, and behold, a throne stood in heaven, with one seated on the throne... and before the throne there was as it were a sea of glass, like crystal." (Revelation 4:2,6)
When I hear the word "sea", the image that springs to mind is of a quiet beach with waves gently crashing against the warm sand, beautiful blue water spread out as far as the eye can see. A lovely, inviting picture, eh? And so when I think of God's throne sitting over a sea of glass, I don't blink an eye.
But to people of ancient times, and still to mariners and coast-dwellers today, the sea is a volatile, dangerous place, the kind of place you might go and never return home. In the Bible, the sea is a picture of chaos and evil, as in Isaiah 57:20. And so for John to see a sea that was still and calm enough to look like glass would have been unusual for him. But in this heavenly scene, the sea of chaos and turmoil is subject to God's throne, and therefore, it lies calm at His feet.
The dictionary defines chaos with terms like "confused unorganized state", "inherent unpredictability", "complete disorder". If you've lived for any length of time on this earth, you've experienced it--one thing after another totally out of your control. If you have small kids, it may feel like the definition of your life! But even when life is out of your control, is it really out of control? Even when you can't foresee the calamity about to be compounded, is it really unpredicted? Is chaos a reality? From our perception, yes. But John's vision of the unseen, very present reality answers a resounding "no"! Chaos is only ever real from our human perspective. From the perception of heaven, all circumstances, calamities, turmoil and chaos are firmly under the ruling throne of God Almighty, and are predicted, orderly, fully under control, calm as a sparkling crystal sea. If we can only see our chaos from heaven's perspective, how much less anxiety, fear and emotional turmoil we will experience in the midst of it!
On Sunday morning, after an enjoyable, peaceful Saturday, I was meditating on this truth. Then I headed into what was supposed to be a fairly relaxed day. Little did I know that the hour of time before church would turn into chaos--an unexpected responsibility, a change of plans, discouraging news, a slightly late departure followed by an overheating radiator in the van that had me tensely watching the thermostat all the way to church, praying that we'd make it there, especially since I had no method of contacting Nathan should we break down. (Did you read my Moth and Rust post? Yes, this is still the same week!) We did make it, but we were late, and as I was dealing with a fussy kid, I was unable to carry out my responsibility to pray in the service. I was literally shaking when we finally got settled in our pew.
And then we sang "Behold Our God". As we got to the chorus line, "Behold our God seated on the throne", it hit me. He's on His throne, and all that "chaos" of the last hour? It's under His feet, completely controlled. He's got it all in His hands. He knew all those circumstances would come together like that. He even knew we'd sing that song so I could have my perception changed to see the real reality and worship. There's really no such thing as true chaos. Sure, it feels like chaos when we've lost sight of the heavenly reality and realize we're not in control of our situation. But it's a calm sea under His feet, and the day is coming when the sea will be no more (Rev. 21:1)!
I've twice been stuck on a country road with a broken-down van full of kids and no cell phone. It's no fun. And the kids like to point out the one spot everytime we go down that road, so I get constant reminders :) The idea of it happening again feels like chaos to me. But we've got daily swimming lessons this week, which means I can't take the van to the shop just yet. So we open the windows, turn on the heat (thank you, Lord, for cooler temps this week!), keep an occasional eye on the thermostat, blast a CD and sing at full volume about God on His throne all the way to the pool and back. The chaos is controlled!
"Some went down to the sea in ships,
doing business on the great waters;
they saw the deeds of the Lord,
his wondrous works in the deep.
For he commanded and raised the stormy wind,
which lifted up the waves of the sea.
They mounted up to heaven; they went down to the depths;
their courage melted away in their evil plight;
they reeled and staggered like drunken men
and were at their wits' end.
Then they cried to the Lord in their trouble,
and he delivered them from their distress.
He made the storm be still,
and the waves of the sea were hushed.
Then they were glad that the waters were quiet,
and he brought them to their desired haven.
Let them thank the Lord for his steadfast love,
for his wondrous works to the children of man!
Let them extol him in the congregation of the people,
and praise him in the assembly of the elders."
(Psalm 107:23-32)
When I hear the word "sea", the image that springs to mind is of a quiet beach with waves gently crashing against the warm sand, beautiful blue water spread out as far as the eye can see. A lovely, inviting picture, eh? And so when I think of God's throne sitting over a sea of glass, I don't blink an eye.
But to people of ancient times, and still to mariners and coast-dwellers today, the sea is a volatile, dangerous place, the kind of place you might go and never return home. In the Bible, the sea is a picture of chaos and evil, as in Isaiah 57:20. And so for John to see a sea that was still and calm enough to look like glass would have been unusual for him. But in this heavenly scene, the sea of chaos and turmoil is subject to God's throne, and therefore, it lies calm at His feet.
The dictionary defines chaos with terms like "confused unorganized state", "inherent unpredictability", "complete disorder". If you've lived for any length of time on this earth, you've experienced it--one thing after another totally out of your control. If you have small kids, it may feel like the definition of your life! But even when life is out of your control, is it really out of control? Even when you can't foresee the calamity about to be compounded, is it really unpredicted? Is chaos a reality? From our perception, yes. But John's vision of the unseen, very present reality answers a resounding "no"! Chaos is only ever real from our human perspective. From the perception of heaven, all circumstances, calamities, turmoil and chaos are firmly under the ruling throne of God Almighty, and are predicted, orderly, fully under control, calm as a sparkling crystal sea. If we can only see our chaos from heaven's perspective, how much less anxiety, fear and emotional turmoil we will experience in the midst of it!
On Sunday morning, after an enjoyable, peaceful Saturday, I was meditating on this truth. Then I headed into what was supposed to be a fairly relaxed day. Little did I know that the hour of time before church would turn into chaos--an unexpected responsibility, a change of plans, discouraging news, a slightly late departure followed by an overheating radiator in the van that had me tensely watching the thermostat all the way to church, praying that we'd make it there, especially since I had no method of contacting Nathan should we break down. (Did you read my Moth and Rust post? Yes, this is still the same week!) We did make it, but we were late, and as I was dealing with a fussy kid, I was unable to carry out my responsibility to pray in the service. I was literally shaking when we finally got settled in our pew.
And then we sang "Behold Our God". As we got to the chorus line, "Behold our God seated on the throne", it hit me. He's on His throne, and all that "chaos" of the last hour? It's under His feet, completely controlled. He's got it all in His hands. He knew all those circumstances would come together like that. He even knew we'd sing that song so I could have my perception changed to see the real reality and worship. There's really no such thing as true chaos. Sure, it feels like chaos when we've lost sight of the heavenly reality and realize we're not in control of our situation. But it's a calm sea under His feet, and the day is coming when the sea will be no more (Rev. 21:1)!
I've twice been stuck on a country road with a broken-down van full of kids and no cell phone. It's no fun. And the kids like to point out the one spot everytime we go down that road, so I get constant reminders :) The idea of it happening again feels like chaos to me. But we've got daily swimming lessons this week, which means I can't take the van to the shop just yet. So we open the windows, turn on the heat (thank you, Lord, for cooler temps this week!), keep an occasional eye on the thermostat, blast a CD and sing at full volume about God on His throne all the way to the pool and back. The chaos is controlled!
"Some went down to the sea in ships,
doing business on the great waters;
they saw the deeds of the Lord,
his wondrous works in the deep.
For he commanded and raised the stormy wind,
which lifted up the waves of the sea.
They mounted up to heaven; they went down to the depths;
their courage melted away in their evil plight;
they reeled and staggered like drunken men
and were at their wits' end.
Then they cried to the Lord in their trouble,
and he delivered them from their distress.
He made the storm be still,
and the waves of the sea were hushed.
Then they were glad that the waters were quiet,
and he brought them to their desired haven.
Let them thank the Lord for his steadfast love,
for his wondrous works to the children of man!
Let them extol him in the congregation of the people,
and praise him in the assembly of the elders."
(Psalm 107:23-32)
Sunday, July 08, 2012
Self-Quake
Since Anne was a young girl, pride has been her constant companion. She was a straight-A student from a godly, middle-class home with a pastor and PhD for a dad, and a mother who was a model homemaker. Anne never did anything shockingly bad. She graduated from a very well-respected college with the highest GPA in the arts program. And through it all, with all the accolades and applause, her pride subtly grew in the background. Enter marriage and motherhood: She got a smart, passionate husband who loves her far more than she deserves; her kids are smarter than both of them, and cute, to boot. She bakes her own bread, she sews dresses for her daughters, she homeschools, she writes a blog. And she is thankful for all of these things, but they are circumstances that have brought many, many temptations to pride. In all of these things, her temptation has been to think highly of herself, of what she's achieved, even in areas that she has no control over. And no matter how hard she fights it, every time there is a new achievement to add to the list, that temptation to pride creeps back in.
Anne knows she needs to humble herself, to be willing to admit where she's failed, to admit her pride, to serve in ways where she doesn't necessarily shine. But if all the while she is thinking, "Look at how humble I'm being, admitting this weakness, serving this way," she knows she hasn't gained any ground. What is she to do?
The apostle Paul knew about temptations to pride, too. He writes in Philippians 3: "I myself have reason for confidence in the flesh also. If anyone else thinks he has reason for confidence in the flesh, I have more: circumcised on the eighth day, of the people of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew of Hebrews; as to the law, a Pharisee; as to zeal, a persecutor of the church; as to righteousness under the law, blameless." In his day, these were all "good" reasons for pride.
So what is it that frees him from boasting in his status and accomplishments? "But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ. Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God that depends on faith—that I may know him and the power of his resurrection, and may share his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, that by any means possible I may attain the resurrection from the dead."
Paul had seen Christ's glory, revealed to him first on the road to Damascus (Acts 9), and then through the pages of Scripture, the witness of the first disciples and various visions given to him by the Spirit (for example, 2 Cor. 12:2-4). And in the face of such glory, all those earthly achievements and distinctions looked not just a little lackluster, but as actual losses, garbage, refuse. As he was aware of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ, pride in temporal, self-glorifying things showed itself to be what it really is: worse than useless, vain, rubbish. In the reality of Christ's righteousness, trying to get righteousness by earthly achievements was not only impossible, but actually hindered him from having righteousness from Christ by faith.
Tim Keller refers to our seeing God's glory and holiness as producing a sort of "self-quake". When we behold His glory, our confidence in ourselves and in our own glory is shaken to the ground. We don't humble ourselves by thinking of all the ways we can make ourselves humble. We humble ourselves by seeing ourselves in the light of His unfathomable glory, glory so blinding that He has to partially veil Himself for us to even be able to stand in His presence. In the light of that glory, our self becomes completely insignificant, and instead of boasting in our righteousness or great deeds, we are forced to run to Christ and His glory in the cross for cover. As C.S. Lewis said, "Humility is not thinking less of yourself; it's thinking of yourself less." And the only way to think of ourselves less is to think of Him more.
The world prizes success, status and skills. And yes, skillful accomplishments can be helpful to the human race. But they cannot be the source of our identity, pride or righteousness. If we are beholding Christ in His glory and grace toward us, and holding out hope for the day when we our sight of Him will be unhindered, we can honestly call these attainments rubbish, and if they are rubbish, what is there left to be proud of? If we are beholding the beauty of Christ in His suffering for our sake, then the thorns and sufferings God sends us to keep us from conceit will be seen as gain, and our boasting in Christ's power in them will become genuine, not merely another means of pride. We are looking, not to our glory in this life, but to the resurrection of the dead that will fully and finally reveal Christ's glory to all eyes.
So what is Anne to do? Behold Christ! Search the pages of Scripture for glimpses of His glory. Meditate on the glory of the One whose greatest "achievement" was laying down His life to pay the price for all her pride and mine. Read about the holiness and mighty hand of God that is able to lift up and also to crush to the ground. In the light of such glory, straight-As, clever children and "enviable" homemaking skills will begin to look like awfully small things to hold up with pride.
(And yes, I'm Anne.)
Anne knows she needs to humble herself, to be willing to admit where she's failed, to admit her pride, to serve in ways where she doesn't necessarily shine. But if all the while she is thinking, "Look at how humble I'm being, admitting this weakness, serving this way," she knows she hasn't gained any ground. What is she to do?
The apostle Paul knew about temptations to pride, too. He writes in Philippians 3: "I myself have reason for confidence in the flesh also. If anyone else thinks he has reason for confidence in the flesh, I have more: circumcised on the eighth day, of the people of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew of Hebrews; as to the law, a Pharisee; as to zeal, a persecutor of the church; as to righteousness under the law, blameless." In his day, these were all "good" reasons for pride.
So what is it that frees him from boasting in his status and accomplishments? "But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ. Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God that depends on faith—that I may know him and the power of his resurrection, and may share his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, that by any means possible I may attain the resurrection from the dead."
Paul had seen Christ's glory, revealed to him first on the road to Damascus (Acts 9), and then through the pages of Scripture, the witness of the first disciples and various visions given to him by the Spirit (for example, 2 Cor. 12:2-4). And in the face of such glory, all those earthly achievements and distinctions looked not just a little lackluster, but as actual losses, garbage, refuse. As he was aware of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ, pride in temporal, self-glorifying things showed itself to be what it really is: worse than useless, vain, rubbish. In the reality of Christ's righteousness, trying to get righteousness by earthly achievements was not only impossible, but actually hindered him from having righteousness from Christ by faith.
Tim Keller refers to our seeing God's glory and holiness as producing a sort of "self-quake". When we behold His glory, our confidence in ourselves and in our own glory is shaken to the ground. We don't humble ourselves by thinking of all the ways we can make ourselves humble. We humble ourselves by seeing ourselves in the light of His unfathomable glory, glory so blinding that He has to partially veil Himself for us to even be able to stand in His presence. In the light of that glory, our self becomes completely insignificant, and instead of boasting in our righteousness or great deeds, we are forced to run to Christ and His glory in the cross for cover. As C.S. Lewis said, "Humility is not thinking less of yourself; it's thinking of yourself less." And the only way to think of ourselves less is to think of Him more.
The world prizes success, status and skills. And yes, skillful accomplishments can be helpful to the human race. But they cannot be the source of our identity, pride or righteousness. If we are beholding Christ in His glory and grace toward us, and holding out hope for the day when we our sight of Him will be unhindered, we can honestly call these attainments rubbish, and if they are rubbish, what is there left to be proud of? If we are beholding the beauty of Christ in His suffering for our sake, then the thorns and sufferings God sends us to keep us from conceit will be seen as gain, and our boasting in Christ's power in them will become genuine, not merely another means of pride. We are looking, not to our glory in this life, but to the resurrection of the dead that will fully and finally reveal Christ's glory to all eyes.
So what is Anne to do? Behold Christ! Search the pages of Scripture for glimpses of His glory. Meditate on the glory of the One whose greatest "achievement" was laying down His life to pay the price for all her pride and mine. Read about the holiness and mighty hand of God that is able to lift up and also to crush to the ground. In the light of such glory, straight-As, clever children and "enviable" homemaking skills will begin to look like awfully small things to hold up with pride.
(And yes, I'm Anne.)
Thursday, July 05, 2012
Moth and Rust
Last week a mouse ate the neckline off one of Ruth's shirts, and put a hole in one of her pairs of shorts, too, before I finished him off. Yesterday, while trying unsuccessfully to remove the dry-erase marker stains from Bruce's almost brand-new shorts, I accidentally splashed bleach on my skirt and another shirt of Ruth's that was nearby. Today, Susanna's special cereal bowl broke, and then our less-than-2-years-old computer decided to call it quits. I'm thinking it's better to put stock in heavenly treasures, because these earthly things sure are temporal!
Tuesday, July 03, 2012
When He Appears
How do people change? If you're at all like me, your default "biblical" answer probably sounds something like, "They need to recognize their sin, see that it's not what God wants for them, throw in a few earthly consequences or rewards for good measure, and then try really hard, with lots of prayer, and of course, reliance on the Spirit." Now you might not actually say it quite like that. But that's how we often practise it in real life. A typical lecture for the kid who just yelled nasty insults at her brother because he didn't want to play the game exactly how she wanted it: "Dear daughter, you are being very rude and angry with your brother. But don't you know that God wants you to be kind? And if you keep yelling at him like that, he'll never want to play with you again. You don't want that, do you? Now stop trying to take control, and remember, if you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all!" Of course, maybe that only happens at my house. But I have a sneaking suspicion that I'm not the only one! And don't we lecture ourselves that way about our sin, as well? "I'm really envious of her nice house, and I know the Bible tells me that envy is sinful. And I don't want it to get in the way of my friendship with her. I really need to work on being content with what I have. Lord, make me content!" Have you ever noticed that this usually doesn't get you very far in your struggles with sin (or your kids' struggles with sin)?
Of all the messages at The Gospel Coalition conference, the one that impacted me the most was Elyse Fitzpatrick's workshop on "Counsel From the Cross". She was speaking about counseling ourselves and others primarily with the gospel--the life, death and resurrection of Jesus on our behalf--as the focal point, rather than counseling based primarily on a series of practical steps or pop psychology. If you're not sure what that looks like, I highly recommend you listen to the message when it's posted on the Gospel Coalition website--I'm not going to try to recap her entire one-hour talk in one blog post (thank me later!). Now I was already familiar with a more gospel-centred counseling approach, though the workshop was helpful in clarifying for me a little more of what that looks like. But the thing that stuck out to me the most from her talk was one little word: "because".
I've always been encouraged by the hope of 1 John 3:2,3: "Beloved, we are God's children now, and what we will be has not yet appeared; but we know that when he appears we shall be like him, because we shall see him as he is. And everyone who thus hopes in him purifies himself as he is pure."
What I'd always loved about it was the idea that we will be like Jesus when He appears. But until that conference session, I had never noticed the word "because" in that verse. WHY will we be like Jesus when he appears? BECAUSE we shall see Him as He is! I think I've always assumed that when we get to heaven, we won't sin because God will just miraculously wipe our sin away. And in a sense, that is true. But as Elyse Fitzpatrick explained, the means of our leaving sin forever behind will be seeing Jesus in all of His glory. When the veil is fully and finally removed and we see Him face to face in all of His splendour, His glory will so eclipse the paltry attractions of temporal things, and will make sin, by contrast, to appear as it really is--disgusting, vile, offensive, an afront to holiness--that we will never want those things again. We will be unable to sin, because we will see Him as He is, in all of His glory. And anyone who has that future hope, purifies himself as he beholds Christ's purity now in the pages of Scripture. The greatest means of true change is not making lists of our sins, observing what others are doing to walk in godliness, studying the law, or going into tempting situations with good intentions of avoiding sin (though these things can be helpful to a degree). The greatest means of true change is looking at the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ as it is revealed to us in the Bible. 2 Corinthians 3:18 says the same thing as 1 John 3:2, only in the present tense: "And we all, with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another. For this comes from the Lord who is the Spirit." How are we transformed little by little, degree by degree, into His likeness? By beholding His glory!
We all struggle with sins of various kinds. But as we fight these sins, are we arming ourselves merely with a list of practical things we can do? Are we focused on ourselves, on how we're performing? Or are we poring over the Scriptures, seeking to see more of God, of His character, of His mercy to us in the cross, of His glory in all of this? Do we come to His word expecting to get some helpful hints for our lives, or do we come longing and expecting to see HIM? Are we praying, not just that we might live holier lives, but that He might reveal more of HIS holiness to us? And as we counsel our spouses, or children, or friends, are we just telling them what we would do, or are we holding up Christ and what He has done?
I realize that if you're in my small group, this is now the third time you've heard me say this in one week! And if you're not in my small group, but you are in my church, it's the second time. But it bears repeating, because I need it drilled into my head, and you probably do, too! It's not all about me; it's about Him. And so I need to daily remind myself to be beholding Christ, to be seeing more of Him, and less of me. I'm still working through all the implications of that for my parenting, for my friendships, and for my own walk with the Lord. My guess is that it will take me a lifetime. But I know that when He appears, I will be like Him, because I shall see Him as He is! So with that hope in mind, I want to spend the rest of my earthly life seeing as much of Him as I possibly can.
Of all the messages at The Gospel Coalition conference, the one that impacted me the most was Elyse Fitzpatrick's workshop on "Counsel From the Cross". She was speaking about counseling ourselves and others primarily with the gospel--the life, death and resurrection of Jesus on our behalf--as the focal point, rather than counseling based primarily on a series of practical steps or pop psychology. If you're not sure what that looks like, I highly recommend you listen to the message when it's posted on the Gospel Coalition website--I'm not going to try to recap her entire one-hour talk in one blog post (thank me later!). Now I was already familiar with a more gospel-centred counseling approach, though the workshop was helpful in clarifying for me a little more of what that looks like. But the thing that stuck out to me the most from her talk was one little word: "because".
I've always been encouraged by the hope of 1 John 3:2,3: "Beloved, we are God's children now, and what we will be has not yet appeared; but we know that when he appears we shall be like him, because we shall see him as he is. And everyone who thus hopes in him purifies himself as he is pure."
What I'd always loved about it was the idea that we will be like Jesus when He appears. But until that conference session, I had never noticed the word "because" in that verse. WHY will we be like Jesus when he appears? BECAUSE we shall see Him as He is! I think I've always assumed that when we get to heaven, we won't sin because God will just miraculously wipe our sin away. And in a sense, that is true. But as Elyse Fitzpatrick explained, the means of our leaving sin forever behind will be seeing Jesus in all of His glory. When the veil is fully and finally removed and we see Him face to face in all of His splendour, His glory will so eclipse the paltry attractions of temporal things, and will make sin, by contrast, to appear as it really is--disgusting, vile, offensive, an afront to holiness--that we will never want those things again. We will be unable to sin, because we will see Him as He is, in all of His glory. And anyone who has that future hope, purifies himself as he beholds Christ's purity now in the pages of Scripture. The greatest means of true change is not making lists of our sins, observing what others are doing to walk in godliness, studying the law, or going into tempting situations with good intentions of avoiding sin (though these things can be helpful to a degree). The greatest means of true change is looking at the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ as it is revealed to us in the Bible. 2 Corinthians 3:18 says the same thing as 1 John 3:2, only in the present tense: "And we all, with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another. For this comes from the Lord who is the Spirit." How are we transformed little by little, degree by degree, into His likeness? By beholding His glory!
We all struggle with sins of various kinds. But as we fight these sins, are we arming ourselves merely with a list of practical things we can do? Are we focused on ourselves, on how we're performing? Or are we poring over the Scriptures, seeking to see more of God, of His character, of His mercy to us in the cross, of His glory in all of this? Do we come to His word expecting to get some helpful hints for our lives, or do we come longing and expecting to see HIM? Are we praying, not just that we might live holier lives, but that He might reveal more of HIS holiness to us? And as we counsel our spouses, or children, or friends, are we just telling them what we would do, or are we holding up Christ and what He has done?
I realize that if you're in my small group, this is now the third time you've heard me say this in one week! And if you're not in my small group, but you are in my church, it's the second time. But it bears repeating, because I need it drilled into my head, and you probably do, too! It's not all about me; it's about Him. And so I need to daily remind myself to be beholding Christ, to be seeing more of Him, and less of me. I'm still working through all the implications of that for my parenting, for my friendships, and for my own walk with the Lord. My guess is that it will take me a lifetime. But I know that when He appears, I will be like Him, because I shall see Him as He is! So with that hope in mind, I want to spend the rest of my earthly life seeing as much of Him as I possibly can.
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