An Offer You Don't Want to Refuse

There's an old expression in the church, something about "laying out a fleece." It refers to asking for a type of clarification or sign --Did I hear You correctly? --from God. It originates with the account of Gideon in Judges 6. The angel of the Lord appears to him as he is threshing wheat not on the threshing floor as one would expect, but in the winepress, to hide it from the enemies of Israel, the Midianites. This angel addresses Gideon as a "mighty man of valor" (v. 12) and says he has been called to save Israel from this fierce army that has demoralized God's people and decimated their land. But Gideon isn't as certain about all this as the messenger seems to be: Show me you are who you say you are and that I will be so equipped (v. 17). Gideon prepares a sacrifice and the angel of the Lord consumes it. Message received. 

Sometime later, the enemies of Israel prepare for a full invasion. Gideon, under the power of the Holy Spirit, summons the troops and they assemble behind him. I can understand Gideon's hesitancy from this point; you've got your family, countrymen looking to you for leadership against this bloodthirsty legion of warriors and just days ago, you were hunkered down trying to keep your meager provisions from being discovered just to feed your family. This is really happening. Again, Gideon seeks a sign: If You will save Israel by my hand as You have said... (v. 36) Gideon acknowledges God has promised this, but... but what? but he really didn't believe it? but that was weeks ago? but things have gotten much worse? but "have you looked at me lately"? Friend, I wish I could pass judgment on Gideon, But the knot in my stomach every time I'm called to do something out of my comfort zone, every time I'm called to speak a difficult word or walk through an unpleasant season tells me I am no more confident in God's presence or promises than Gideon. So, Gideon asks for more: a fleece wet with dew while the surrounding ground remains dry (v. 37). And again, a dry fleece while the ground is wet with dew (v. 39). Both times, it was so.

Let's see what happens next. In Judges 7, we read that God whittles the army of Israel, the army under Gideon's leadership, the army that will go up against the hordes of Midian, down to its bare bones. Not once do we read of Gideon objecting to the process --even when God settles for a measly three hundred (v. 7)! But it gets better. That night, God spoke to Gideon again. Arise, go down against the camp, for I have delivered it into your hand. But if you are afraid to go down, go down to the camp with Purah your servant, and you shall hear what they say; and afterward your hands shall be strengthened to go down against the camp (v. 9-11). Gideon takes God up on the offer. After all of the demonstrations, after this entire process of preparing Gideon and his men, Gideon chooses to peek behind the curtain; he chose the blessing that would strengthen him for the upcoming battle.

Have there been times I've doubted? Yes, without a doubt 😉. I've questioned. I've panicked. I've stared at the ceiling and rehashed conversations until the wee hours of the morning. But God has proven Himself again and again. It has been my self-sufficiency and mistrust that have let me down. It has been my pride that has distracted me from great faith. But God knows my heart. He chooses to love me and have compassion on me even when I have been far from Him, even when I have doubted His goodness. He has held out mercy to me. He has offered to me the blessing that would strengthen me for the battle ahead. And, be assured, the God who has promised to never leave or forsake His people will do the same for you. Choose the blessing. Take His offer.  

  

Midweek: Who Brings the Victory?

Now Naaman, commander of the army of the king of Syria, was a great and honorable man in the eyes of his master, because by him the Lord had given victory to Syria. He was also a mighty man of valor, but a leper.

~ 2 Kings 5:1

Naaman's master considered him a great and honorable man, why? Because by him the Lord had given Syria (Aram in other translations) victory over its enemies. Now, if we are at all familiar with the battles and the means by which God's people went to war recorded in the Old Testament, we read something like this and think of Naaman, bowing before God, asking Him or thanking Him for a great victory. Is that what this is saying?  

Maybe what's being said is that the king of Aram knew God and he gave thanks to God for the victory granted his nation through such a mighty and capable leader. But history does not bear that out. Judges 3:5-11 tells of the pagan neighbors of Israel and how God used these nations (eventually sending a deliverer) to trouble Israel and turn their hearts back to God; Aram-Naharayim (Mesopotamia in the NKJV) was such a neighbor. God's people were at war with the people of Aram for generations. With that information, not only does the possibility of Syria's king attributing victory to God diminish, so does the possibility of the commander of the king's armies attributing victory to the God of Israel. That leaves only one person, the writer of 2 Kings.

It's really interesting that, in the context of a heathen victory, of the triumph of Israel's enemy, this writer of Scripture recognizes that it is the Lord who gives and the Lord who takes away (Job 1:21). I don't always think that way. I see the wicked "wickeding", I see the blasphemers blaspheming, I see the moneygrubbers moneygrubbing. And I seethe with indignation or, if I take the time to see them through the eyes of God, I pray for and pity them. But I rarely stop to recognize that in their lives, at the very moment they have made a huge profit on the sale of their home or benefitted yet again from the system or taken that dream vacation --You know, the one that was my dream --or won a legal battle, that God is working. So, when I begin to recognize the sovereignty and movement of God in the lives of those who deny He even exists, I have to ask myself, Why not? 

In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus reasons that the rain falls on the just and the unjust. Rain that waters crops and quenches thirst; rain that saturates and brings mold to vulnerable little seedlings and ruins a double-header. Why not celebrate the goodness of God in the lives of all people? Why not give thanks that His kindness is meant to lead mankind to repentance? Why not use my frustration over their myopia and my grief over their reticence to thank God for His pursuit of them? to thank God He is still active in their lives, sparing them (particularly when they are my loved ones)? Why not use my human response to nudge me toward prayer for these individuals? My frustration should not cause me to give up hope or turn my back on interceding for them. My grief is not --Praise God! --a final grief. As long as I have breath in my lungs, I have opportunity to pray others, too, will recognize it is God who is sovereign over all things. That He has brought healing to buy them time, that He has brought prosperity that they might eat, that He has surrounded them with friends that they might know relationship, and that He has given them rest from their labors that they might, in those peaceful days of reflection, lift their eyes heavenward and know Who has brought the victory.      

Welcome! Please Come In

My mother was something of an omnivert; at least, that's what they're calling it these days. Mom would come to life when doting on the retired folks in her little snack shop each day. She would decorate --the shop and herself! --for every holiday or event. She loved having conversations with even the surliest of customers, teasing out of them a smile or a snort of concession. When it came to peers and social settings, however, she was a little less luminescent. She'd agree to show up to a party and cancel last minute. She was master of the Irish Goodbye (or French Exit, depending on your country of ancestry). She'd fidget in her seat during the functions she was forced to attend and vow, once she left, it was the last. Being something of an "omnivert" myself, I've come to realize this has less to do with energy or personality, and more to do with control or gaining the upper hand. If I feel comfortable with folks, I can hang all day; if I'm intimidated, uncertain, or feel unwanted, I want out of there as quickly as possible. Seriously, do you know anyone who isn't like that? Good relationships start with feeling wanted and safe.

In Genesis 7:1, ADONAI said to Noach, “Come into the ark, you and all your household; for I have seen that you alone in this generation are righteous before me. God told Noah to join Him where He was. Feeling wanted, safety, right? Mind you, this is the God who says to His people again and again, I will never leave you of forsake you. Meaning, where God was when He called Noah to Himself, is where He was going to stay. Does this mean God was holed up in a cabin awaiting the end of the deluge as Noah and his family did? No, God summoned Noah and his family to join Him in the ark; He Himself is the ark! That's what I call safety! After decades of gopher wood, pitch and, perhaps, a crazy amount of harassment from the neighbors, Noah moved into his new home and waited for rain --whatever that is. He had no clue how long they would be on board, where their journey would take them; but they had God. His plan was to spare them, to welcome them, to remain with them, to shelter them, and for His people to be in Him. That includes you and me! We do that through His Son, Jesus Christ who is God. He calls us into relationship, to follow where He leads and be where He is; and we are safe, at peace in His presence. Feeling wanted, safety.

1 Corinthians 1:30, 31 tell us, But of Him you are in Christ Jesus, who became for us wisdom from God—and righteousness and sanctification and redemption— that, as it is written, “He who glories, let him glory in the Lord.” Like Noah, we don't round up the animals, we don't plot the course, we don't even close the door. Christ beckons us to come and we --I pray --come to be in Him. So long as we remain in Him and He in us, we experience fullness of joy; we are able to do all He commands. 2 Corinthians 5:17 says, Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; old things have passed away; behold, all things have become new. We are made new and are no longer condemned to death. Romans 8:1 says, There is therefore now no condemnation to those who are in Christ Jesus, who do not walk according to the flesh, but according to the Spirit. We might even be willing to go where we won't necessarily have the upper hand. Because we are wanted by the God of the universe; because we are safe in the One True God who is sovereign over heaven and earth.

Uncomfortable, perhaps dangerous situations? We are in Christ! Sure, the skies may darken, the storms may come, the waves may roll us about, and we might have no idea where we will land, but we can remain in Him. For God to shelter, guard, and guide Noah and his family as their smelly, cacophonous zoo rocked and bumped over a water-covered world was HUGE!! Every one of us can be in Him as well. Our first step is to simply Come.

A Real Tragedy

It's been over a month, and I am still processing the tragic suicide of a Catholic priest from Nigeria. Apparently, he was in the states on a visa which in due time expired. Because the federal government has suspended the processing of immigration cases for Nigeria and some other countries, his diocese was left with little choice but to bring him home and reassign him. The atrocities being committed against Christians in Nigeria are unspeakable, leaving him to believe no good could come of his return to his homeland. He took his own life on July 2, 2026. My sympathy goes out to his family and all who knew him.

This is a tragedy on so many levels, and I'm certainly not looking to weigh in on the immigration issue or the Catholic church, but I would hope he had a strong network of people around him, interceding for him and supporting him in many ways. If that is not the case, I pray this is a lesson on how to better minister to our ministers. It's not optional. In Galatians 6:2, God through Paul commands us to bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ. The law of Christ! It is a requirement we support our brothers and sisters in Christ and, I'm going to add, particularly our ministers; those folks who are always teaching Sunday school, planning music, cleaning our churches, taking care of loose ends, praying for us, and pastoring. Those people who are always looking out for the welfare of others, who looks out for their welfare? Imagine serving as a hospital chaplain and parish priest while you yourself are far from home, missing loved ones, fearing for their safety, hearing reports of yet another village burned or friend abducted. How well do we bear the burdens of those who bear our burdens? 

As this man navigated the emotions and legal roadblocks, he prepared a statement which, according to MSN, was posted on his church's website:

Sincerely, it is not my wish to return home right now, but circumstances beyond my control have warranted that my time in the United States come to an end. My heart is broken, yet my joy remains.

He was fixed on encouraging others even in the midst of his trial. Though we may be broken and ignorant of that which lies ahead, the joy of the Lord is our strength (Nehemiah 8:10). Whatever transpired between his writing that statement and ending his own life, I am not to judge, but I do know his actions do not negate the truth of Scripture. The joy of the Lord is stronger than any version of despair, any kind of fear, and any sense of darkness that threatens to consume us. The joy of the Lord will never be crushed under the weight of grief or snuffed out by the presence of shadows. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil for Thou art with me (Psalm 23:4). Those are not just words with which we assure ourselves our loved one has passed through the veil of death and on to eternal life. Those are words for the comfort of the widow, the hope for the critically ill, and the strengthening of the minister ordained to return to a place where he faces, at best, an uncertain fate.

None of this should have happened. Not the vile, merciless slaughter occurring in Nigeria and other parts of the world. Not the suicide of a priest who lived to walk others through the darkness. Not the empty place that exists now at the bedside of the sick and dying or the tears that fall in memory of this beloved servant. Such is the fallen world in which we live. But as members of the body of Christ, we are not alone; His joy sustains us and directs us no matter how hopeless our circumstances may appear. This is a tragedy. Greater tragedy is to abandon hope in the changes we can make, the prayers we can pray, and the assurance we have in our Redeemer.