I Wish You Knew

One of my favorite artists, Keith Green, has a song entitled “Song to My Parent (I Only Want to See You There),” and I think that expresses my sentiments over so many people I know. If there’s anything I’ve learned from 53 years of being alive and over 45 of those as a child of God, is that having Jesus is so much better than not having Him. My worst days with Jesus are better than my best days without Him.

It’s not about avoiding going to hell, although hell is real. After all, God won’t force anyone to be with Him and He will respect the choices that we have made, even if we choose to be separated from Him. The best part isn’t not being in hell but looking forward to an eternity in heaven with the abundance of joy in this life as well.

There are so many stories and testimonies of people who were hopelessly lost and hopelessly addicted, but Jesus found them and now they are brand new creations. They aren’t improved versions of their old selves. They are something completely new that only God could have dreamed of and made into reality.

It’s amazing when God opens your eyes and you really see everything for the first time. Everything makes more sense. Sure, suffering and pain still exist, but now they have meaning. We still lose people we love, but now we grieve as those who have hope. I’m finally starting to get what the Apostle Paul meant when he said, “Whether quickly or not, I pray to God that both you and everyone here in this audience might become the same as I am, except for these chains” (Acts 26:29, NLT).

I’m closing with the song Keith Green wrote for his parents with the hopes of seeing them in heaven one day. He may be gone, but his legacy of music and testimony lives on:

“I need to say these things ’cause I love you so
And I’m sorry you get angry when I say that you just don’t know
That there’s a heaven waiting for you and me
I know it seems every time we talk
I’m only trying to just make you see

But it’s only that I care
I really only want just to see you there

Please try and overlook my, my human side
I know I’m such a bad example, and you know I’m so full of pride
But Jesus isn’t like that, no, He’s perfect all the way
I guess that’s why we need Him
‘Cause by ourselves, there’s just no way

And it’s only that I care
I really, really only just want to see you there
To see you there

Close the doors
They’re just not coming
We sent the invitations out a long, long, long, long time ago
We’re still gonna have a wedding feast
Big enough to beat them all
The greatest people in the world just wouldn’t come
So now we’ll just have to invite the small

And it’s only that I care
I really, really only want just to see you there

Isn’t that Jesus?
Isn’t it Joseph and Mary’s Son?
Well, didn’t He grow up right here?
He played with our children
What? He must be kidding
Thinks He’s a prophet
Well, prophets don’t grow up from little boys
Do they?
From little boys
Do they?”

Unfinished People

“Unfinished people are dangerous.

Moses wasn’t Moses overnight.

He saw an Egyptian beating a Hebrew. Rage took over.
Looked left. Looked right. No witnesses.

So he killed him.
Buried the body in the sand.

Forty years later he’s still running when the bush burns. Still seeing blood on his hands.

“Who am I?” he asks.

God sends him anyway.

Not from murderer to hero.
From murderer to man still being worked on.

Paul didn’t become Paul overnight either.

Stephen preached. Rocks flew. Skulls cracked.
Coats piled at Saul’s feet while he approved.

Years later, after writing half your New Testament, he’s still begging God about a thorn.

God doesn’t say, “You’re finished.”

He says, “My grace is sufficient.”

Your Bible reeks of in-progress redemption.

Exodus doesn’t hide the murder.
Acts doesn’t hide the coats.

KJV. No polish. No PR team.

God will still be working.

You’re not disqualified.
You’re under construction.

Same clay. Same Potter. Same wheel.

Build anyway. Fall anyway. Get up anyway” (The Biblical Man/4 AM on X).

I love that. I don’t think he’s saying that there shouldn’t be consequences to our actions, especially if we break the law and harm others. But nothing we do disqualifies us from God’s grace. Ask Moses. Ask Paul. Ask the thief on the cross. Nothing.

Who you’ve been and who you are don’t necessarily automatically definie who you’ll be. Only God can do that. And God can use the murder and the sin and all the wrong you’ve done and turn it into something positive. He can take what the enemy meant for evil and turn it for good.

That’s the gospel. Still.

Gatekeepers or Grace Givers

I think if we’re not careful, we can become gatekeepers of the grace of God. I read recently we judge ourselves by our intentions but others by their actions. In other words, we’re more lenient with ourselves than with others. I see a lot of professing believers posting about how they hope the other person gets karma (which almost always seems to be for somebody other than me).

It’s especially evident when it comes to people we don’t like or with people who think and vote differently than I. It’s almost as if God’s grace exists with exceptions for Donald Trump (or his supporters) and Kamala Harris (and her supporters). We make grace something you have to earn instead of a free gift.

But the truth is that no one is worthy of God’s grace and mercy, but everyone is welcome to it. I’ll say it again because someone out there (maybe me) needs to hear it again: no one is worthy of God’s grace and mercy but everyone is welcome to it.

That means that anyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved. With no exceptions. Anyone who acknowledges their sin and accepts Jesus as Lord and Savior, believes in Him by repenting of their sins and turning to His free gift of salvation, and confesses Him before others will be saved.

I think I get judgmental when I forget how it took the same amount of Jesus’ blood to save me as it took to save anyone else in history. It took all of it. I was (and still am) as much in need of the grace of God to save me and sustain me as anyone else who has ever lived.

The gospel means that no one is too lost to be found, too messed up to find grace, or too far gone to be saved. That’s the hope for the world and the message that every believer has to share with anyone who has ears to hear.

Act Yourself Into a New Way of Feeling

“Feelings are great liars. If Christians worshipped only when they felt like it, there would be precious little worship. We think that if we don’t feel something there can be no authenticity in doing it. But the wisdom of God says something different: that we can act ourselves into a new way of feeling much quicker than we can feel ourselves into a new way of acting. Worship is an act that develops feelings for God, not a feeling for God that is expressed in an act of worship” (Eugene H. Peterson).

To act when you don’t feel it isn’t authentic. Often, it’s obedience. I do what’s right because I know it’s right and not because I feel it’s right. If I waited every time until I felt like worshipping or reading my Bible or tithing, I would do all those things a lot less.

Feelings are fickle. So often they are unreliable guides to base decisions and actions upon. I may not feel like it because I’m tired or hungry or not feeling well. Sometimes, feelings are based off of false or incomplete information. When I find out a key missing ingredient, my feelings change.

Faith is not a feeling. Love is not a feeling. Both are acts of the will. You are stating that I believe in something enough to put my full weight into it whether I feel like it or not. I love by acting in such a way that seeks the betterment of the other whether I feel it or not. Often when I commit to faith, the feeling follows. When I act in loving ways, then I feel loving.

Above all, worship is an act. It’s a declaration that God is worthy. Even when I don’t feel it, He’s still worthy. Even when I feel He’s absent or silent, He’s still worthy because my feelings may trick me or lie to me but God never will.

Happy Birth-Month to Me!

I figured when you get to a certain age, you need to celebrate being alive. Somehow, I don’t think that one day is enough to appreciate the miracle of life, so I decided to take the whole month of February. I know, it’s a short month, even on leap years. But life is hard enough without allowing yourself some room for frivolity and fun.

My actual birthday is on February 28, as I was ever so close to being a leap year baby. If I’d been born only 11 hours later, I’d be celebrating on February 29 and only be 1/4 of my current age. I wish.

But age is nothing to be ashamed of, especially when you know far too many people who didn’t get to grow old. I see my life more and more as a gift, even when I’m starting to get those senior discounts without having to show any actual ID. That hurts a bit, I confess.

But God has been good to me for 53 years. I have way more blessings than I can count (and way more than I deserve if I’m being honest). I know that I’m a sinner saved by grace, and everything else that I get from God is the proverbial icing on the cake.

By the way, I wear size 8 1/2 Lucchese boots and I like my cabins size medium. JK. I figured out a long time ago that people matter more than stuff and memories last way longer than any possessions. Besides, I won’t be taking any of my stuff with me when I shuffle off this mortal coil. I mean have you ever seen a hearse pulling a U-Haul? Think about it.

Anyway, I’d like to make it to 100, but I’m thankful for whatever I get. If Jesus comes back before then, I’m definitely not going to complain. That will be the best day ever.

Comfortable Chairs or Carrying Crosses

“What if we take away the cool music and the cushioned chairs? What if the screens are gone and the stage is no longer decorated? What if the air conditioning is off and the comforts are removed? Would His Word still be enough for his people to come together?” (David Platt)

“Heresy of method may be as deadly as heresy of message” (A.W. Tozer).

I’m a fan of comfortable chairs. I’m all for having working A/C in the summer and heating in the winter. But sometimes, I forget that people around the world are worshipping their Creator in caves or out in the open field. Some are in hiding because it’s illegal to be a believer where they live.

Maybe one day in America, churches won’t have the comforts and conveniences we’ve all grown used to and take for granted. Perhaps even down the road the churches could lose their tax exempt status. What then?

Will the Word of God be enough? When there’s no electricity to power the pyrotechnics and professional sound and production, will it be enough to praise God with our voices? Will people still show up if it’s someone in front of them reading God’s Word without flashy graphics or screens?

None of these things are wrong or bad in and of themselves, but I think we err when we make them the end rather than the means to proclaiming the gospel and leading the lost to find salvation in Jesus alone. Too many people to to churches to be entertain and fed rather than to worship and to serve. It’s more of a “what can I get out of it” mentality rather than one of “how can I serve the people inside and outside of these walls.”

I truly hope that we become a people of worship, but that doesn’t start when we walk through the sanctuary doors at 9 am or a 10:30 am on a Sunday. It starts when we pick up our Bibles on a Monday. When we share the gospel with a friend on Tuesday. When we work hard and don’t bend the rules on a Wednesday. The amount of worship we experience on Sunday stems from how well we worship throughout the week.

May God bless your churches and services tomorrow. I’m praying that God moves in each and every place. I’m also hoping that we don’t have to lose our comfortable buildings to find out what true worship looks like. God, please revive Your people so that we can be about Your business more than our comfort. Amen.

More Amy Carmichael Wisdom

“Let us end on a very simple note: Let us listen to simple words; our Lord speak simply: ‘Trust Me, My child,’ He says. ‘Trust Me with a humbler heart and a fuller abandon to My will than ever thou didst before. Trust Me to pour My love through thee, as minute succeeds minute. And if thou shouldst be conscious of anything hindering that flow, do not hurt My love by going away from Me in discouragement, for nothing can hurt so much as that. Draw all the closer to Me; come, flee unto Me to hide thee, even from thyself. Tell Me about the trouble. Trust Me to turn My hand upon thee and thoroughly to remove the boulder that has choked they river-bed, and take away all the sand that has silted up the channel. I will not leave thee until I have done that which I have spoken to thee of. I will perfect that which concerneth thee. Fear thou not, O child of My love; fear not.’

And now…to gather all in one page:

Beloved, let us love.

Lord, what is love?

‘Love is that which inspired My life, and led Me to My Cross, and held Me on My Cross. Love is that which will make it thy joy to lay down thy life for thy brethren.’

Lord, evermore give me this love.

Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after love, for they shall be filled” (Amy Carmichael).

All I can say after that is that you need to go right away and find as many Amy Carmichael books as you can, as well as any biographies (especially the one by Elisabeth Elliot). Or better yet, read good books by missionaries who have invested lifetimes in the field for the Lord. Those are just about always worth it.

Forgiving

“How can we forgive those who do not want to be forgiven? Our deepest desire is that the forgiveness we offer will be received. This mutuality between giving and receiving is what creates peace and harmony. But if our condition for giving forgiveness is that it will be received, we seldom will forgive! Forgiving the other is first and foremost an inner movement. It is an act that removes anger, bitterness, and the desire for revenge from our hearts and helps us to reclaim our human dignity. We cannot force those we want to forgive into accepting our forgiveness. They might not be able or willing do so. They may not even know or feel that they have wounded us.

The only people we can really change are ourselves. Forgiving others is first and foremost healing our own hearts” (Henri Nouwen).

A theology built on the idea that everything is their fault is not good theology. It seems a lot of rhetoric these days stems from the idea that the blame should go to whoever is on the other side of the political aisle from me. Apparently, I never have to look in the mirror and assess whether anything I’ve ever done could have contributed to the mess we’re in.

But Jesus said if you don’t forgive, you won’t be forgiven. He didn’t say if you have trouble forgiving, you won’t be forgiven. Many are suffering greatly as a result of trauma and abuse, and forgiveness seems impossible. Others feel that forgiving means letting the other person continue to inflict pain and suffering.

Remember, Jesus forgave those who were in the very act of murdering Him. It wasn’t easy, but Jesus made it possible. It isn’t easy, but the Spirit of Jesus inside of you makes it possible. If you long for the ability to forgive and earnestly seek God’s power to do it, I think God honors that request. I also think forgiving doesn’t mean automatically restoring trust and letting the other person or persons back into your life.

But most of all, we forgive because we have been forgiven much. If we really understood how much God in Christ has forgiven us, we’d be less inclined to choose bitterness and unforgiveness. We’re the ones who owed the astronomical sum we could never hope to repay in a thousand lifetimes, but God forgave our debt completely. To choose not to forgive a fellow human being is to hold him or her hostage over a paltry sum compared to the millions and billions we owed.

Again, it’s not easy, but through Christ it is possible. I’m praying that those of you who aren’t able to find the strength to forgive might in the mighty name of Jesus and through the cleansing blood of Jesus be able finally to forgive and find freedom. May you finally open the prison door to freedom. When you do, you will find it is yourself that walks free.

Go to the Last Place

“I sought him, but I did not find him” (Song of Solomon 3:1. NKJV).

It always annoyed me whenever I would lose something and couldn’t find it. Even more annoying was when one or both of my parents would inevitably tell me to go to the last place I had it before I lost it. I’d be all like, “Well duh. If I knew the last place I had it, I wouldn’t be looking for it, now would I?”

That also seems to be the case in our spiritual lives as well. I think Mr. Spurgeon hits the proverbial nail on the head with this one. Often, when we lose sight of Christ, it’s because we have left Him behind in our pursuit of achieving God’s will in our lives by our own effort or in an attempt to “help” Him out:

“Tell me where you lost the company of Christ, and I will tell you the most likely place to find Him. Have you lost Christ in the closet by restraining prayer? Then it is there you must seek and find Him. Did you lose Christ by sin? You will find Christ in no other way but by the giving up of the sin, and seeking by the Holy Spirit to mortify the member in which the lust dwells. Did you lose Christ by neglecting the Scriptures? You must find Christ in the Scriptures. It is a true proverb, ‘Look for a thing where you dropped it—it is there.’ So look for Christ where you lost Him, for He has not gone away.

But it is hard work to go back for Christ. Bunyan tells us that the pilgrim found the piece of the road back to the Arbor of Ease, where he lost his roll, the hardest he had ever traveled. Twenty miles onward is easier than to go one mile back for the lost evidence. Take care, then, when you find your Master, to cling close to Him.

But how is it you have lost Him? One would have thought you would never have parted with such a precious friend, whose presence is so sweet, whose words are so comforting, and whose company is so dear to you! How is it that you did not watch Him every moment for fear of losing sight of Him? Yet, since you have let Him go, what a mercy that you are seeking Him, even though you mournfully groan, ‘O that I knew where I might find Him!’

Go on seeking, for it is dangerous to be without your Lord. Without Christ you are like a sheep without its shepherd, like a tree without water at its roots, like a withered leaf in the storm—not bound to the tree of life. With your whole heart seek Him, and He will be found by you. Only give yourself thoroughly up to the search, and truly you shall yet discover Him to your joy and gladness” (Charles Spurgeon, Morning and Evening).

A Narnian Excerpt

Because I’m sleepy and my brain is banana pudding, here’s an excerpt from one of my favorite books out of one of my favorite series. The book is The Horse and His Boy, and the series is The Chronicles of Narnia. Both are by C. S. Lewis, and I recommend both, whether you’ve never read them before or have read them each 100 times:

“Bree turned round at last, his face mournful as only a horse’s can be. ‘I shall go back to Calormen,’ he said.

‘What?’ said Aravis. ‘Back to slavery!’

‘Yes,’ said Bree. ‘Slavery is all I’m fit for. How can I ever show my face among the free Horses of Narnia?—I who left a mare and a girl and a boy to be eaten by lions while I galloped all I could to save my own wretched skin!’

“We all ran as hard as we could,” said Hwin.

‘Shasta didn’t!’ snorted Bree. ‘At least he ran in the right direction: ran back. And that is what shames me most of all. I, who called myself a war horse and boasted of a hundred fights, to be beaten by a little human boy—a child, a mere foal, who had never held a sword nor had any good nurture or example in his life!’

‘I know,’ said Aravis. ‘I felt just the same. Shasta was marvelous. I’m just as bad as you, Bree. I’ve been snubbing him and looking down on him ever since you met us and now he turns out to be the best of us all. . . .’

‘It’s all very well for you,’ said Bree. ‘You haven’t disgraced yourself. But I’ve lost everything.’

‘My good Horse,’ said the Hermit, who had approached them unnoticed because his bare feet made so little noise on that sweet, dewy grass. ‘My good Horse, you’ve lost nothing but your self-conceit. No, no, cousin. Don’t put back your ears and shake your mane at me. If you are really so humbled as you sounded a minute ago, you must learn to listen to sense. You’re not quite the great Horse you had come to think, from living among poor dumb horses. Of course you were braver and cleverer than them. You could hardly help being that. It doesn’t follow that you’ll be anyone very special in Narnia. But as long as you know you’re nobody very special, you’ll be a very decent sort of Horse, on the whole'” (C. S. Lewis, The Horse and His Boy).