Why?

I saw a new doctor recently. It was sort of important that I see him. But my original appointment, scheduled back in August had to be cancelled because of a miscommunication in the doctor's office. The next available appointment was April 2026. Now, that might not seem so long in light of the fact it is now 2026, but in August of 2025, when I got the notice my appointment needed to be rescheduled and given the somewhat urgent nature of the appointment, it might as well have been a lifetime. But God. In the autumn, I got a notification that an appointment had opened up in December; did I want it? Did I want it?! Do rabbits run? Of course I wanted it! And there was an added bonus: the appointment would be free because, once again, the Murphys had met their out-of-pocket maximum for the year 2025. Thank You, Jesus! Quite a gift that was.

The morning of my appointment, I was meditating on Psalm 51. Scholars believe this was the psalm David wrote after being convicted of his adultery with Bathsheba and his murderous orders with regard to Uriah. In the Complete Jewish Bible, the passage begins:

God, in your grace, have mercy on me;
in your great compassion, blot out my crimes.
Wash me completely from my guilt,
and cleanse me from my sin.

David continues to plead for restoration and forgiveness. Wash me. Renew me. Blot out my crimes. But for what purpose? Because he is deserving of forgiveness? Certainly not. Because he and God are tight like that? Not even because of that. Verse 15 provides us with an eternal purpose for God's forgiveness and mercy:

Then I will teach the wicked your ways,
and sinners will return to you.

Do this, Lord God, so that I might share Your character, Your might, Your holiness with others, and that they might come to know You and serve You.

I'm sure you've heard of people praying those "foxhole prayers." Maybe you've prayed one or two yourself. God, if You get me out of this I will... That's manipulation. That's an attempt to bargain with an infinite, almighty God. However, what David is saying is, "I see the purpose behind Your mercy --if You indeed grant me mercy. The gift of Your salvation, Your restoration is not without an eternal objective." David sees this as a cause for public celebration, an opportunity to exalt the name of his Savior, and bring others to know the magnificent, benevolent character of the God of Israel.

As we, on this New Year's Day, begin to contemplate goals --those attained and those abandoned in 2025, those we've set for 2026 --maybe one of our goals should be to look beyond the gift, to seek the purpose for each gift our Heavenly Father lavishes on us. Maybe there is something we are to be doing with the gift He gives. Did He save us to keep the Good News to ourselves? Maybe He is providing us with some gift we will need to share with someone this upcoming year. Maybe He is equipping us for a future calling. Maybe we will never know until we see Him face-to-face. But it certainly doesn't hurt to ask Him why. Why did He bless me with an early appointment? a free appointment?! on a day when many offices were closed and there was plenty of parking?!! Why this gift? Why now? What will You have me do with this gift? All for Your glory and fame!

  

Midweek: Break

 Broken to Breathless is taking a break today --certainly NOT from sobriety --but from posting. So, shut off your phone (it is possible), spend some time with the family, and revel in the season! 

I will be 😁

See you in the New Year!

 

Willing AND Able

Here we are, coming to the end of a very busy season. What started out with planning and orchestrating a wonderful Thanksgiving feast for friends and family --bearing in mind those unable to feast (maybe even volunteering to make feasting or, at least, eating possible) --morphed into finding and purchasing the "perfect gift" --in honor of God's Perfect Gift, of course! Surrounding all of that preparation were lights and music and walk-thrus and nativities and dinners out and parties --and everyday life. Clothes still required washing and the boss demanded our presence. Children needed to be tucked and snow needed to be shoveled. It's exhausting! Placing all of this "extra stuff" in our schedules to commemorate the Prince of Peace come to bring us something more perfect than the temporal, something more fulfilling than our full bellies and full schedules.

So, the question I pose today is this: How much of what you did was done out of willingness? I ask because, a couple weeks ago, in the midst of the chaos that was Christmas celebration preparation, I received a text asking me to lead our congregation in a few songs at worship that morning. I replied that I would. The response I received was, "I appreciate your willingness to serve." BAM! The words tore through me like a hot knife through butter. My willingness to serve. Was it willingness? Was any of this preparation and above-and-beyond service willingness? Shouldn't it be willingness? Or is it enough that it is ability, fearfully, clumsily handed up to God that He might make it into willingness? Maybe it's a bit of both.  

Willingness is not ability; ability is not willingness. One might be willing to manage church grounds, but a heart condition prevents that means of service; willingness supersedes God-given resources. One might be the picture of health, possessing the ability to mow and rake and spread yard after yard of mulch, but be utterly unwilling to do so. As with the almost totality of our relationship with God, the answer lies in our hearts. Are we willing to comb through our closets, our schedules, our physical assets, our talents, and relinquish the surplus that we might bring great glory to our King? Are we willing to pray dangerous prayers, asking God to heal us so that we might serve with all we have; asking God to take from us that others might have; asking God to put His finger on whatever it is He requires from us, that He might be glorified? Are we willing to forego those traditions and concerns that keep us from serving and honoring Him as we are called to do? Or are we able but unwilling? If that is the case, are we at least able to --on a more empirical level --acknowledge our surplus and, out of reverence, out of a desire for change, out of a hope that our heart will be transformed to one of willing and unconditional surrender, place that surplus in the hands of the One who is before all things and holds all things together? Are we at least able to take inventory of our resources and see what the Lord will do with whatever we, in good faith, give Him? Lord Jesus, you know I'm having a difficult time with this person, but I can pray; I'm going to do that out of obedience to You and in the hope You will move. Or, Lord Jesus, I will not go another day angry and resentful over my disability; I ask You to change my body or change my heart. 

God is faithful even when we are not. He can make willing hearts able just as He can make able hearts willing! What will you give Him today?