Follow Me

“When Jesus Christ says ‘Follow Me,’ He never says to where; the consequences must be left entirely to Him. We come in with our ‘buts,’ and ‘supposings,’ and ‘what will happen if I do?’ (cf. Luke 9:5762). We have nothing to do with what will happen if we obey; we have to abandon to God’s call in unconditional surrender and smilingly wash our hands of the consequences” –Oswald Chambers, Not Knowing Whither).

That’s just it. I want guarantees that if I follow, I’ll get the desires of my own heart. It’s true that God did promise that, but maybe not in the way that I’ve always believed or wanted it to be. I think that as I follow in obedience, God changes my wanter (to borrow a phrase from my pastor). In other words, the desires of my heart as a mature believer probably aren’t the same as they were when I first said Yes to Jesus way back when.

I don’t get to set the terms. I don’t get to tell Jesus what the conditions will be before I follow. The famous verse from Paul says that I am not my own. I have been bought with a price. And who am I to haggle percentages and conditions when Jesus paid for me with His very blood on that cross. As in He paid all of His blood, not most or some, but all.

I’m not leaving it completely to blind chance. I know in whom I have believed. I trust the One I have committed to follow. I know His plans are for good and not harm, for prospering and not for evil. I know that I can read a whole history of saints who have surrendered to Christ and not one has ever been worse for it. Not one.

It all goes back to my own stubbornness and pride to think that I know better than God how my life should go. In fact, I’d go so far as to call it arrogance to think that if God doesn’t give me what I want when I want it, He must not know what He’s doing. I’ve learned enough to know that He gives me what I would have asked for had I known what He knows.

And that’s enough for me.

Sneaking Up

As usual, Labor Day weekend snuck up on me. I never remember that it’s an actual holiday until the Friday before. The same goes for Memorial Day. Not in anyway to diminish either of these holidays, but I can be a little thick sometimes.

I am thankful for Labor Day (or should it really be called Labor-Free Day?) and for the extra day off. Even if it’s 145 degrees outside in the shade. And no, I’m not counting down the days until fall starts (15).

Today, the sermon at church was on Luke 10:1-2 where Jesus says that the fields are ready for harvest but the laborers are few. According to multiple studies, 20% of church people do 80% of the work. Most people are content to occupy a space on the pew or the chair and spectate rather than participate.

But God created all of us with unique gifts and passions that bless those within and without the walls of a church gathering. Plus, there’s joy in finding your place of serving and ministry in God’s kingdom. Not all of us are called to preach from a pulpit or lead worship, but we can all worship in our own way, no matter how small it seems to us or to others.

I love my church. I love that I get to sleep in tomorrow, even though it’s a Monday. I love that every day God wakes me up is a gift and I find that I take it for granted less and less as I get older. Too many people I know who are my age or younger have passed away for me ever to think that I’m guaranteed 80 years in this world.

So happy Labor Day! May you enjoy a restful day — and if you’re one of those who don’t get a day off, may you find joy in your labors, knowing that you’re not really working for a human boss or a human organization ultimately, but for God and God alone.

Taking it Back to 1850

I ran across another hymn that I wish we could bring back. I’m a fan of modern worship, but sometimes I think we miss out by eliminating the old hymns completely. This is one that could possibly use a newer arrangement but the words are still powerful:

“Abide with me: fast falls the eventide;
the darkness deepens; Lord, with me abide.
When other helpers fail and comforts flee,
Help of the helpless, O abide with me.

Swift to its close ebbs out life’s little day;
earth’s joys grow dim, its glories pass away.
Change and decay in all around I see.
O thou who changest not, abide with me.

I need thy presence every passing hour.
What but thy grace can foil the tempter’s power?
Who like thyself my guide and strength can be?
Through cloud and sunshine, O abide with me.

I fear no foe with thee at hand to bless,
ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness.
Where is death’s sting? Where, grave, thy victory?
I triumph still, if thou abide with me.

Hold thou thy cross before my closing eyes.
Shine through the gloom and point me to the skies.
Heaven’s morning breaks and earth’s vain shadows flee;
in life, in death, O Lord, abide with me” 1 Abide with me: fast falls the eventide;
the darkness deepens; Lord, with me abide.
When other helpers fail and comforts flee,
Help of the helpless, O abide with me.

2 Swift to its close ebbs out life’s little day;
earth’s joys grow dim, its glories pass away.
Change and decay in all around I see.
O thou who changest not, abide with me.

3 I need thy presence every passing hour.
What but thy grace can foil the tempter’s power?
Who like thyself my guide and strength can be?
Through cloud and sunshine, O abide with me.

4 I fear no foe with thee at hand to bless,
ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness.
Where is death’s sting? Where, grave, thy victory?
I triumph still, if thou abide with me.

5 Hold thou thy cross before my closing eyes.
Shine through the gloom and point me to the skies.
Heaven’s morning breaks and earth’s vain shadows flee;
in life, in death, O Lord, abide with me” (Henry Francis Lyte).

A Different Mindset

“The prayer of a Christian brother who was in prison for years in Romania during the difficult years of the cold war. He prayed:

‘Lord, I look forward to the great day I see you and your family in heaven. I look forward to seeing the great evangelists standing before you. I look forward to the day I see all the missionaries coming home rejoicing with their sheaves. I look forward to hearing all the great singers of the world praising you. I look forward to seeing the great preachers of the ages standing before you.

“But Lord, I have one special request. When that day comes, allow me to be there in the clothing of a prisoner. I want to praise you throughout eternity in my prisoner’s clothes to always remind me that I was a prisoner for you.'”

Sometimes, it feels like the faith of persecuted people is different than our comfortable brand of Christianity. We tend to deconstruct or quit when our lives get difficult, but these people endured prison and sometimes even death and would not waver. They were committed to the cause, no matter what.

I don’t want to paint with too broad a brush, but I think our comfort may be our biggest culprit. We’ve associated our faith too long with material prosperity and favor. We’ve forgotten what Jesus meant when He said that following Him meant taking up your cross daily.

The people in Jesus’ day knew exactly what that meant. Taking up your cross meant that you were heading toward your death. Crosses weren’t gold-plated symbols of fashion. They were instruments of torture. Jesus was essentially saying what Dietrich Bonhoeffer would later say, “When Christ calls a man [or woman], He bids him [or her] come and die.”

I don’t want to be morbid. I don’t want to come across as looking forward to pain and suffering. I know Jesus said that in this life, we all will have tribulation and trials and trouble. But the good news is that He has overcome, and to the ones who endure, He will grant a crown of victory.

Lord, help us to be followers who will seek obedience over convenience and faithfulness over comfort. Help us to live out your words and be ready to take up our own crosses and follow You, no matter what the cost. Because You died for us, we will live for You. Amen.

Missing Kairos

Sometimes, I’ll drop by Brentwood Baptist Church on a Tuesday. I’ll slip into Hudson Hall and look around for a moment or two. Usually, the lights are out, so I’ll turn on my phone’s flashlight and wave it back and forth in front of me. Typically, there will be chairs set up similar to when Kairos was still a thing.

I miss Kairos. For those who weren’t a part of the magic, Kairos was a young(ish) adult event that happened every Tuesday from 2004 to 2024. Since then, it has transitioned into something called Rally, which is more of a college ministry centered around small groups and monthly gatherings.

I’m thankful for Rally, but I do miss Kairos. I realize that as Ecclesiastes says, there is a season for everything. Perhaps, Kairos had a season and now it’s over. Maybe it served its purpose for what God intended to do through that particular ministry. I know it was very influential in my own life, as well as the lives of many, many others.

I was blessed to be a part of it for over 18 years, most of which I served as a greeter and prayer counselor. I saw some very talented people come and go through the years. We had some incredible speakers, singers, musicians, and tech people. We had people who were gifted in areas of hospitality and serving. But most of all, God showed up.

Was it a perfect ministry? No. Did we get a few things wrong over the years? Probably. But we tried to be obedient to the calling God has placed on us for such a time as this. The years to come will tell how successful we were. But then again, God never called us to be successful but simply faithful and obedient.

I may be the only one who’ll say this, but I miss Kairos. But there’s not a day that goes by where I’m not thankful that God allowed me to be a small part of it for all those years. I’m blessed.

A Good Reminder

If you need a little encouragement, just go to Romans 8, particularly verses 31-39. They’re some of my favorite promises from God in all the Bible. Nothing can or ever will separate me from the love of God in Christ. Nothing can remove me from being His child or from being eternally saved and eternally secure.

The worst that the world can do to me is to hasten my homeward trip to heaven. They can’t destroy me. They can’t defeat me because my God is undefeated and undefeatable (which probably isn’t a word but should be in my opinion).

Let these words soak into your very marrow and read them over and over again to yourself. Say them out loud if that helps. Remember that God’s love is forever for those who are in Christ Jesus:

“So, what do you think? With God on our side like this, how can we lose? If God didn’t hesitate to put everything on the line for us, embracing our condition and exposing himself to the worst by sending his own Son, is there anything else he wouldn’t gladly and freely do for us? And who would dare tangle with God by messing with one of God’s chosen? Who would dare even to point a finger? The One who died for us—who was raised to life for us!—is in the presence of God at this very moment sticking up for us. Do you think anyone is going to be able to drive a wedge between us and Christ’s love for us? There is no way! Not trouble, not hard times, not hatred, not hunger, not homelessness, not bullying threats, not backstabbing, not even the worst sins listed in Scripture:

They kill us in cold blood because they hate you.

We’re sitting ducks; they pick us off one by one.

None of this fazes us because Jesus loves us. I’m absolutely convinced that nothing—nothing living or dead, angelic or demonic, today or tomorrow, high or low, thinkable or unthinkable—absolutely nothing can get between us and God’s love because of the way that Jesus our Master has embraced us” (Romans 8:31-39).

Not My Will

“And shall I pray Thee change Thy will, my Father,
Until it be according unto mine?
But, no, Lord, no, that never shall be, rather
I pray Thee blend my human will with Thine.

I pray Thee hush the hurrying, eager longing,
I pray Thee soothe the pangs of keen desire—
See in my quiet places, wishes thronging—
Forbid them, Lord, purge, though it be with fire” (Amy Carmichael).

I’m revisiting Shadow of the Almighty, the story of Jim Elliot. This time it’s the audiobook read by Elisabeth. My first impression is that sometimes I think Christianity in the early part of the 20th century seems quite a bit different than today’s version of it. For one thing, people talked a whole lot more about taking up crosses and laying doen lives for the sake of the gospel.

I wonder if all the prosperity and freedom of our present culture hasn’t made for a soft Church. You can go back and read that the Church grew the most when it was persecuted the most. A famous early Christian leader said that the blood of the martyrs watered the seed of the Church, and that’s why it grew the way it did.

But also, there’s something to be said for surrender. It’s one thing to pray “Thy will be done” glibly as part of the Lord’s prayer and not really mean it or think through what you’re praying. But as Elisabeth Elliot famously said, when you pray God’s will be done, you’re also praying that your own will be undone if necessary.

If you want to go beyond comfortable cultural Christianity, you’d do well to read the biographies of the faithful of old, especially missionaries like Jim Elliot, Amy Carmichael, Hudson Taylor, and Darlene Deibler Rose. They did more than talk of sacrifice. They did it. They gave up everything that was comfortable and familiar and took the gospel into places it had not been before.

The scary part of praying God’s will is that you don’t know where God will lead you, but the best part is that God will go with you, whether it’s to the other end of the world or across the street. It’s the prayer that never ever fails.

Singing in Every Season

“I will sing for joy in God, explode in praise from deep in my soul! He dressed me up in a suit of salvation, he outfitted me in a robe of righteousness, As a bridegroom who puts on a tuxedo and a bride a jeweled tiara. For as the earth bursts with spring wildflowers, and as a garden cascades with blossoms, so the Master, God, brings righteousness into full bloom and puts praise on display before the nations” (Isaiah 61:10-11, The Message).

If you stop and think about it, you have way more reasons to sing from a heart of gratitude than to complain. Just like it takes more muscles to frown than to smile, it takes more effort to see the glass as half empty. Especially when you’re God’s child.

If you’ve truly been born again, how can you not help from singing? How can you not help but be thankful? How can you not see that the blessings far outweigh the bad, more so when you consider the future that awaits every saint.

Besides, there are so many commands and admonitions to sing and to praise all through out the Bible. Note that it does not say that you have to have an operatic voice to sing praises. You don’t even have to be able to carry a tune in a bucket. The Bible says to make a joyful noise, even if you sound like an orchestra of scorched cats and dogs.

Even if singing is absolutely not your thing, you can still express thanksgiving and gratitude toward God in any number of ways. I do think it helps to express your thanks out loud in some way, even if it’s only you in the room. But whatever you do, make sure you err on the side of joy rather than gloom.

We Need to be Needy

“The disciples are needy in every way. They are simply ‘poor’ (Luke 6:20). They have no security, no property to call their own, no piece of earth they could call their home, no earthly community to which they might fully belong. But they also have neither spiritual power of their own, nor experience or knowledge they can refer to and which could comfort them. For his sake they have lost all that. When they followed him, they lost themselves and everything else which could have made them rich. Now they are so poor, so inexperienced, so foolish that they cannot hope for anything except him who called them” (Dietrich Bonhoeffer).

We need to be needy. I think American Christianity has made it to where the idea of a life of faith is one where you gradually become more and more self-sufficient, where God is great in theory but you get to where you can handle just about anything on your own.

Then I look at those ragtag disciples of Jesus. I remember how the religious leaders who tried to shut them up recognized two things right away about these men: 1) they were unlearned and ignorant about a lot of things, probably uncouth and uncivilized, and 2) they had been with Jesus.

That was what being a disciple meant back then. Your whole life revolved around your rabbi. You ate when he ate, slept when he slept, moved when he moved. You learned to quote the rabbi in all matters of conversation. You eventually got to where you spoke and acted just like your rabbi.

We’ve made discipleship into head knowledge where having a head full of Bible facts means that you’re mature. But then why are so many older believers still acting like spiritual infants and still ignorant when it comes to what they believe and how to live it out? Why do so many Christians not look very much like their Christ?

The key is obedience. We don’t need new information as much as we need to live what we’ve already learned and obey what we already know. We need to get back to being children when it comes to faith (as opposed to being childish) and be willing to look foolish and needy in the sight of others so they can see how much we rely on Jesus for everything.

Lord, help us to be wise and childlike, willing to appear ignorant in the eyes of the world but identified as those who have been around Jesus a whole lot. Amen.

Getting Hold of God

“Whenever the insistence is on the point that God answers prayer, we are off the track. The meaning of prayer is that we get hold of God, not of the answer” (Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest).

If I’m not careful, prayer can become like my childhood letterd to Santa. Those typically started off with me stating how I’d been good all year and thus was worthy of all the loot I had coming to me. The specifics of those letters escapes me, but I’m sure that I was like every other kid back in the day who mailed actual letters in envelopes to an address somewhere at the North Pole.

We do the same with God. It’s like, “God, thanks for being God. Here’s what I want from You” and then the list of wants and needs begins. Sometimes, we even have a list of people we’re praying for (which is by no means a bad thing to do).

But prayer isn’t as much getting things from God as it is getting to know God. The more you know God, the more your wants and needs change. By the end, I suspect we’re praying God’s prayers back to Him. That means we’re asking God for what God wants for us and in us. We want the same things He does.

In the mean time, it is perfectly acceptable to come to God in prayer without asking for anything but simply to adore Him and thank Him for who He is. I think the less we’re concerned about getting answers, the more we’ll see God at work because our focus won’t be so narrowly limited to His hand.

The good news is that even if you feel you’ve been doing it all wrong in prayer and treating Him as Cosmic Santa, you can always start over in a sense. You can spend at least part of your prayer time in adoration and thanksgiving before processing to petitions. You can look for opportunities throughout the day to thank God for what He’s doing, even if you can’t always see what that is.

Again, the point as always is to pray. The best way to get better at praying isn’t listening to more sermons or reading more books about prayer but praying — and being around people who pray often and pray well. That has helped me a lot. I still think reading books of prayers is good, like the Book of Common Prayer or The Valley of Vision. But mostly just pray.