The Gracious Wounds of God

“Sometimes the most gracious, merciful thing God could ever do is wound you. To wound you, (and in that wound bind you to Himself) is far more gracious than to bless you with everything you want and have you not know Him” (Matt Chandler).

I found out recently that my pastor who is battling cancer is in stage 4. I also learned that a surgery last month to remove the cancer was unsuccessful. At that point, a lot of people would either give into fear or throw in the proverbial towel altogether. But not my pastor.

He has maintained an incredible and submissive attitude throughout the entire ordeal. I’m not saying he never is afraid or gives into moments of doubt, but he is trusting God, no matter what the outcome. He reminded us that the way to fight spiritual battles is through praise.

It’s easy for me to lose perspective sometimes when I’m in a struggle and forget that others are dealing with way worse than I am. The secret is not comparison with others or dwelling solely on the problem but keeping our eyes on God. As I’ve heard it recently, the antidote to anxiety is the adoration of God.

My pastor referenced a passage where King Jeoshaphat is facing a combined army that is invading Israel and the odds are not good. Instead of panicking, he turns to God in prayer. The last line of his prayer is one of my favorite verses in the Bible: “We do not know what to do, but our eyes are on you.”

Sometimes, God has to wound us to get us to look up. Sometimes, He allows trials and suffering to get our attention. Sometimes, we face hardships and trials to purify our faith and get us to turn our eyes on Jesus. I’d rather be wounded and find the comfort of closeness with God than get everything I’ve ever wanted and not know God. That would be tragic.

Lord, get our attention. Help us see that there’s nothing else that we could ever desire that is better than You. You are the only one able to hold us together when we feel like we’re falling apart. You’re the only one who can heal our woundedness and brokenness. We don’t know what to do so much of the time, so we once again turn our eyes on You, the author and finisher of our faith. Amen.

Resurrecting Hope

“Easter was when Hope in person surprised the whole world by coming forward from the future into the present” (N. T. Wright, Surprised by Hope).

That was the topic of today’s sermon at The Church at Avenue South– that after being crucified and buried, Jesus actually and physically rose from the grave.

The Apostle Paul says that if Jesus didn’t rise from the grave, then our faith is useless and futile and we are all still dead in our sins.

If there is no resurrection, then Jesus’ death was meaningless and He wasn’t who He claimed to be, but just another in a long line of those so-called “Messiahs” whose words were forgotten and whose followers immediately abandoned them after death to look for the newest “Messiah.”

But Jesus stepped out of the tomb on Easter Sunday morning, forever proving that He is the ultimate God-Man, Savior of the world, the true Messiah.

Our hope is in more than a great teacher who gave us some great ideals to live by before he died. It’s in more than Jesus being “resurrected” by keeping His memory alive in the hearts of His disciples.

Our hope is in the Jesus who made the ultimate sacrifice on our behalf and died on the cross, then bodily rose from the grave and appeared to the apostles as well as over 500 other witnesses.

Because Jesus lives, our hope is alive. Because He lives, we live and can face any tomorrow that comes. Because He lives, we know that there is nothing that comes up against us– illness, death, or the grave– that can separate us from the love He has for us.

“We could cope—the world could cope—with a Jesus who ultimately remains a wonderful idea inside his disciples’ minds and hearts. The world cannot cope with a Jesus who comes out of the tomb, who inaugurates God’s new creation right in the middle of the old one” (N. T. Wright, Surprised by Hope).

 

I’m Sick

It’s official. I have a fever and I feel bad. I’m sick.

As much as I like to think that I am brave and stoic in the face of illness, I’m not. Actually, I’m a bit of an overdramatic martyr, truth be told. In my own passive aggressive way, I want everyone around me to be aware of the agony I’m in so they can feel appropriately sorry for me and buy me nice things and do nice things for me.

I regaled more than one person with the thrilling tale of how I drove from work with the A/C off and the vent on because of the chills. It was brutal. I didn’t even sweat one drop the whole way, even though I normally would have been perspiring like the pig that’s about to be bacon.

I made sure that people saw how I was shaking and shivering under all that nasty air conditioning when I was clearly not well. Anyone should have been able to tell that just by looking at my poor miserable face.

Yet here I am, sick. Honestly, I’ve felt much crummier and if this is the worst experience I go through, I’m doing alright.

I know several who are worse off than I. I have a friend who has been to doctor after doctor trying to diagnose and lingering illness that causes her to be extremely fatigued and with a weak immune system to fight off infection. I know several who are fighting courageous battles with cancer, including one who recently lost his battle.

Viewed the right way, illness can be an opportunity rather than solely a burden. You can always serve those who are worse off than you (and if you can’t physically serve, you can send encouraging notes or texts letting them know you are thinking and praying for them. Encouraging words tend to have the same effect on those who write them as with those who receive them.

You can use illness as a means to stand in solidarity with those around the world who suffer daily from hunger, malnourishment, disease, and abuse. You can use your aches and pains as a reminder to pray to the Healing God for those everywhere who live daily with chronic pain and diseases.

This just in. I’m not at death’s door just yet. I’ll probably be right as rain in a day or two with hardly a memory of all my dire suffering.

 

Why I Love the Psalms

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Here’s my update on my Bible reading. I’m up to Psalm 127, which is probably ahead of the pace I need to get through the Bible in a year, but I’m okay with that.

I’m reminded of why I love the Psalms so much. Yes, there’s a lot of “praise the Lord” and “hallelujah” verses, but there’s also plenty of “Where are you, God” verses. There are stories of both victory and defeat, joy and sorrow, health and illness, strength and weaknesses. In other words, it runs the gamut of human experience.

I love the honesty. I used to feel like David, or whoever else happened to write the particular Psalm I was reading, was boasting about how perfect and obedient he was. Now I think I see it as a man who feels like he’s giving everything he’s got to do the right thing.

I see that life is hard, bad things happen, and sometimes the bad guys get the upperhand. Still, the last word is always how the loyal, steadfast love and faithful God (or the Eternal One, as my translation puts it) never ceases.

That’s a good reminder for anyone going through struggles and pain and loss. God’s faithfulness never runs out. His love never lets up. It always finds us and brings us back to His heart and one day will lead us home.

To paraphrase an old saying, victory is never final and failure is never fatal. It is trust in the strong arms of God that wins out in the end.

Getting Sick is Really Sick, Ya Know?

I had round 2 with sickness last night.

I spend much quality time near the porcelain throne, paying homage. It felt like I threw up everything I’d eaten since 2007. It was not a fun experience.

I still don’t know what caused it– whether it was food poisoning or a stomach bug– but I do know this: I’m happy to be on the other side of it, blogging from an upright position and not in a fetal position at the foot of the toilet.

I’ve had worse pain before in my life, but last night I felt like December 21 had come early and the Mayans were on target. I wanted my sickness to end. I would have given just about anything for my stomach to settle down.

Don’t worry. I’m not contagious.

I’m extra-thankful for good health tonight. It sometimes takes a little pain and illness to make you appreciate the good days. It takes a little rain to make you appreciate the days of sunshine.

C.S. Lewis once said that pain is God’s megaphone to rouse a deaf world. He whispers to us through our pleasures, but shouts in our pain. Otherwise, we’d get so caught up in the gifts and forget the Giver. OK, at least I would.

Here’s hoping to a good night’s sleep for me. Here’s hoping for an attitude of gratitude and thankfulness for all the small blessings we normally take for granted.

As my friend says all the time, “Life is good, God is great.”