Looking Out for the Good Guys

Just the other day I was telling someone about a situation that is at the very top of my prayer list. With every ounce of assurance and an almost angelic glow, I boasted, "God is going to do something amazing," Barely had the words left my tongue, when his face crinkled and his lip curled into a sneer. "He's not," he rebuked. "That's just the way it is; that's the way the world is. He's not going to do anything." And he walked off in disgust. His level of disdain came as a shock to me. My faith has been the target of his irreverent stand-up for years. He is "above" belief in an invisible deity of any sort. He believes he is "too intelligent" to submit to any higher power. And he definitely thinks God is a hoax perpetrated by the church to gain control over "little people" who are too weak to survive on their own. But the sort of bitterness and repugnance he exhibited on this occasion was new. 

Despite his derision, the guy is generally likeable. He has compassion for animals. He doesn't steal, or drink and drive. He takes good care of his family. He tries to take good care of his body. Without even realizing, I began to excuse his comments. How was he raised? How had he been hurt, to become so cynical? Surely, he didn't really mean it. The plain truth is, however, this guy is a God-hater; his words are only the evidence of rebellion within his heart. When he stands before God, his upbringing will not be an issue; who or what hurt him will be irrelevant. All his good deeds, his beautiful children, his manicured lawn, his promotions, his sensible behavior -- will count for nothing. His response to the Gospel is the only thing that will result in an eternal relationship with Jesus Christ or condemn him to hell. Right now, his response is pretty clear, and hell is his destination. But it doesn't have to be that way.

I tell you this because, I think, far too often Christians fall into the trap of believing -- at least on some level -- Satan's big lie: you just have to be a good person. We may not believe it for ourselves, but when it comes to preaching the Gospel to everyone we meet, do we skip over "the good guys," the ones that seem to have it all together, the ones who lead pretty respectable lives? As I've said, this guy has ridiculed me for my beliefs, but I guess it was just a little easier to hear him poke fun at me than say something so hateful about a good, good God. This guy has always been honest with me; I've always known where he stood. But his latest response has brought an awareness of his poverty I never had before. His latest response has shown me just how urgent his need is. His latest response means I can no longer see him as anything but lost, I can no longer see my role as anything but a watchman, and I can no longer speak only of what I believe, but I must speak of what he needs to believe. His latest response has caused me to be just a bit more mindful of, prayerful for, and truthful toward "the good guys."

Relationship

This year, Scott and I will mark sixteen years since our first date, the beginning of our relationship. Just to give it a little perspective -- several of our friends are celebrating thirty-plus years married! So what were we doing the first, say, twenty years of adulthood? I won't speak for Scott, but I was screwing up, and dragging other people into my mess. And that's that. Scott knows that. I've never tried to hide it -- nor did I want to hide it from him. He loves me in spite of who I was before I knew him, and in spite of who I am now (particularly on my days when I haven't slept so well the night before), and he has promised to love me despite any rotten thing -- or things -- I may one day do. That is HUGE! But, I too made the same pledge. It's a relationship. Relationships require the active participation of both parties toward a common, agreed upon end. We commit to treating one another as each of us wishes to be treated. So, the rotten thing -- or things -- should never be an issue, because of relationship. 

Our Bible study group has been exploring the Book of Hosea. In brief, Hosea is a prophet to the nation of Israel. Israel has broken their covenant with God. Among other things, they have worshipped false gods, looked to earthly kings for help instead of YHWH (with whom they were in a committed relationship), and ignored the laws He put in place for their protection. As a living object lesson, paired with a prophetic warning and hope, God instructs Hosea to marry and have children with a loose woman who will become a prostitute. God tells Hosea to have a marriage relationship -- the most sacred, sometimes difficult, emotional and consuming relationship -- with a woman who will be unfaithful! She will embarrass him. She will hurt him. She will take from him and give nothing in return. She will abandon him. But, Hosea does it, because he trusts and obeys God. He cares for her, even raises the children she has with other men, buys her back as his own when she has sold herself into slavery, and always desires better for her. Hosea loves her and remains in a marriage relationship with her despite how she has treated him in the past; despite seeing the faces of romantic rivals in her bastard children as he provides for them daily; despite the knowledge that she is imperfect, has an unfaithful and rebellious spirit, and will leave him, betraying him time after time. 

How easy I have found it, over the years, to identify with Hosea. In those first twenty years of adulthood, I tied myself to people who betrayed me and hurt me. I'd go back, hoping that "this time" they were genuine. They were again, unfaithful, and I was again, wounded. But I was no victim. I learned that, in truth, I wasn't loving as Hosea loved, as God loves us. I was doing what was easiest or most comfortable for me. I remained because I, too, needed something, something I believed I couldn't find elsewhere. That is not the story of Hosea, and that is not the revelation of God's love in it. 

Hosea's story was intended to show Israel's sin, and by extension, reveals humanity's sin nature. It also reveals God's incomprehensible power to love even those who despise Him. God needs nothing from any man; He is complete, in and of Himself. He didn't strive with Israel, and doesn't remain patient with us for any other reason but His character. Whatever mercy and grace He holds out to unfaithful and idolatrous people, is because of who He is. While I might identify momentarily with Hosea's hurt, the greatest portion of my natural born identity lies with Hosea's wife, Gomer. I am, in the natural, deceitful and wicked; but just as Hosea redeemed his harlot wife, God has redeemed me through Jesus' work at the cross. As Hosea purchased Gomer that she might come and live with him the life of a forgiven, faithful and beloved wife, embraced in the fullness of a loving and committed relationship, so God has made this possible for each and every one of us. Hosea's imperfect marriage to Gomer demonstrated to Israel and reveals to us, God's perfect love for otherwise hopelessly sinful people, and His commitment to relationship. 

Where are you in your relationship with the Lord? Maybe you can celebrate thirty-plus years, maybe you haven't quite had your "first date" yet. Maybe there was a time when things were good between you, but other things competed for your devotion, and you abandoned the relationship. God is still as committed to loving you as He was the day Jesus stumbled His way to the cross. He knows your past, but loves you anyway. He loves you in the present, and has pledged to love you in the future. Ask Him to turn your heart toward Him. Read the Scriptures to discover His character and your role in God's plan. And know the joy of being forgiven, beloved, sanctified, and embraced in the fullness of a loving, committed relationship with the One True God.

Miracles Happen Every Day

"For such a time as this." It's a phrase that oozes with purpose. If I told you God had put you on this earth for such a time as this, you might not only feel a sense of obligation to act in a certain way, one that precipitates change, but you would get a clearer picture of a God who is so big, so sovereign, He has innumerable things orchestrated throughout history to converge on what we know as a single point in time. But what if I told you that God had sent you a message of hope, or peace, or mercy to prepare you to endure such a time as this? In your grief, in your trouble, would you be able to see it? For months, I had missed it.

In May of last year, we were knee deep in COVID restrictions, wondering where all of this was going. We were burning the candle at both ends, doing all the things other families with school-age children were doing, and hoping Summer days would arrive when we could frolic at the water park and picnic at the orchard. The days came, but the frolicking and picnicking, not so much. Everything remained on lockdown. About that time, however, a song made its way to the Christian music station. "Miracles," by Colton Dixon. We loved it. We would bop and sway to the beat, singing as loudly as we could. It reminded me of the miracle of the crazy life we were in. Our marriage, after both of us had been so deeply hurt by divorces. The presence of all of these children in our life. Our amazing church family. The way God had just continued to provide for us over and over. And as we drove under sunny skies, music pouring out of open windows, I reached my hand out. Golden light flickered through new leaves across my arm, and the cool air rolled over my palm. It was all a miracle.

A couple weeks ago, I traveled home from work, the dawn just breaking in my rearview mirror. I turned on the radio and, "Miracles." I wanted to turn it off. I thought I should turn it off. My miracle had come to a screeching halt, and while I spoke truth into my spirit at every opportunity, my faith never wavered, and I praised Him for every other thing in my life, God had ripped my miracle from my hands and I was feeling bitter. God's plan stunk and I continued to let Him know that with an ungrateful attitude and daily dose of sulking. But a strangely wonderful and abundantly merciful thing happened that morning. Instead of the tears and hysterics that I thought would pour forth, joy flooded my spirit. I could hardly contain it. I sang, once again, at the top of my lungs. Tears of gratitude streamed down my face. I saw God's hand in everything up until this point: the messages of hope He shared with me long before I needed them, the blessing of holidays that arrived shortly after the loss -- giving us the opportunity to spend more time with our children and to circumvent months wondering what Christmas would be like with the youngest of our clan gone (There was true mercy in that, I have learned!), the miracle of bringing them into our lives in the first place. For over two years we walked on dry ground between walls of water. For over two years we tasted the goodness of the Lord everyday through the eyes of those seeing His grace for the first time. For over two years we witnessed a miracle. It had come time to leave that miracle behind and look for new ones. But God had prepared me. From the first time I'd heard that song, not once did I ever think it was about life remaining as it was forever. From the first time I'd heard that song, it had always reminded me what a miracle life was in the first place. And here it was, reminding me again, because of God's grace in preparing me for such a time as this.

As I drove past the local hospital on my way home, I saw it. People were going home today. Bodies and minds would be made whole today. People were bringing new life into the world today. And, by God's grace, I could see and celebrate those miracles that very day.

Don't Trust the Journey, But One Who Set You on It

Imagine a journey. At the start of the journey, it becomes evident there is a wonderful opportunity for redemption. A friend tells you God has given her a word; the word is "Redemption." And it's confirmed. You set out, praying for everyone you meet along the way. You know this is about redemption, but you're not sure whose. Is it yours? Someone your caring for? Someone watching? Maybe it's the redemption of someone who is discouraging you, trying to thwart your progress along this journey. You administer grace. You focus on God and what He tells you to do. You wake up each morning, a surrendered spirit. And you have peace. Daily you bask in the grace and mercy of God. You see miracle after miracle taking place. When problems arise, you simply pray, and sometimes you're not even certain if God solved them, or removed them, or changed you; you just know that whatever it is isn't a problem anymore. It is like nothing you've ever experienced. 

But then, the journey gets longer. And the journey gets harder. There are "earthly" things to do. The battle rages and your emotions become the sword you wield. You no longer pray for everyone you meet. Some of those people you thought might be redeemed don't seem too interested, so you just pray for the ones that seem a little more ready for redemption. It's busy around here, why waste your time with people who "will never change?" You have to focus on facts and circumstances. Before you know it, your goal is a right end -- not a righteous end -- to the journey. Your prayers are less about redemption, and more about victory. Sure, it's all for the Lord. Sure, you'll give Him all the credit. But, your plan is just so perfect, so succinct. Why would God want anything different?

Like it's been since days of old, humanity turns its focus from God -- the One who created and sustains us, the Alpha and Omega, the Most High, the Sovereign and Mighty -- to itself. "We can handle this one. The way we say it, or do it is just a bit better suited for this situation. Sure, we're spiritual, but sometimes the natural demands we do it this way." That's utter foolishness. And it's our foolishness. Why would God want anything different? Because He doesn't think the way we do, because He is not corrupt or limited the way we are. With God, nothing is impossible -- even His purpose that grows to appear unlikely as we journey.

Whatever it is, whatever path He has set you on, is by His design. He is working all things out for His glory and your good. Keep your eyes fixed on Him. Trust that He is working even when you can't see it, even when it appears there is no way. He is the Way Maker, the Miracle Worker, and He is God.