The Sin We Don't Speak Of

We all have that sin. The one we thought was long conquered, long forgotten, and long paid for by Christ's precious blood. Then one day it emerges, reminding us that we are not yet perfected, and riddling us with guilt. It's the sin we don't speak of. It's the sin that we are certain would cause friends to shun us, strangers to mock us, and God to turn his back on us. Everyone's is different, but the effects on us are the same. And when it rears its ugly head we are undone.

I don't know what your forgotten, unspeakable sin is. But I know mine. I know that even after years of victory it can come back without any warning, reminding me that I am still in need of a great Savior. It's good for me, really. This sin, in all its heinousness, is a reminder to my ever prideful heart that the respectable sins I live with are just as ugly as the one that I don't utter out loud. Everyone needs to be knocked down a few rungs on the ladder of our own perceived righteousness. I am no different.

In the moments of despair over the reappearance of this sin, I have been comforted by the fact that it has been paid for by Christ's atoning work at the cross. There is no more condemnation for me because Christ took all of it for me (Rom. 8:1). But practically speaking, I've learned that I need the same guttural response to my every day sins as I have to the one I hate the most. I should weep tears of brokenness with every act of rebellion against my God, and yet, I don't. I've created a hierarchy of sinfulness, stacking some at the very top of the "do not do this again" list.

In God's eyes, sin is sin. No amount of human ordering changes that for him. We have all sinned and fallen short of the glory of God (Rom. 3:23). This sin is the great equalizer before him. There are no sins that are beyond his reach for cleansing and there are no sins that make us any better or worse in his eyes. Without Christ, the verdict is the same--guilty.

Oh, but the story doesn't end there. With Christ the verdict is the same--righteous. My sin (respectable and otherwise) says that there is no hope for me, and that is true. But in Christ I have a righteousness that is not my own (Phil. 3:9). I can stand free from condemnation over all of my sins, even the one that I feel is too unworthy to bring to the throne of grace.

If that is where you are today, dear sister, know that I am with you. Actually, we are all in this together. Look to Christ and trust in his perfect work on your behalf. Repent, yes. But then cling to the One who paid for all our sins--even the ones we can't speak of.

Salvation Comes Through Jesus, Not Courtney

The other night as my head hit the pillow I felt weighed down by a lingering cloud of guilt. I couldn't shake the sense that I was doing something terribly wrong, or at least not doing enough. Either by commission or omission, I was failing. But what I couldn't understand was why I felt this way on that particular evening. There were no catastrophic accidents with the twins that day. No one had a meltdown that was out of the ordinary. I hadn't lost my temper with Daniel, the boys, or anyone else who got in my way that day. By the outward looks of things I had no real reason to feel like I was missing the mark.

While it didn't look like I had a reason to repent over my actions, I did. Here is what I mean. For starters, I have noticed in the past week that I have allowed myself to grow lazy in training the boys. Instead of stopping whatever I am doing at the moment to help them in their burst of emotional outrage or fight over a stolen toy, I often stick to quick fixes without really understanding what is going on or showing them a better way. When I recounted the events of the day that particular night I was struck by my own selfish actions towards my boys. I didn't deal with them because it wasn't convenient for me. I didn't lovingly break up the fighting because I didn't want to be bothered. Immediately I was reminded of all of the biblical warnings for failing to discipline and train our children and I confessed to my husband that I was certain I had failed them for life (I'm a little dramatic at times).

But there is something less obvious that needed my swift repentance. It's the thing that I have noticed most in my own heart as I've learned this whole parenting thing.

I can't save my children and I need to stop acting like I can.

My children will be who they will be in spite of me. While I would like to think that if I just did all the right things for the necessary period of time, my kids will come out praising Jesus, but the unfortunate fact is they won't. They might, but it's not a guarantee. The promises of God are not a magic potion.

Of course, for the many biblical truths about God's sovereignty over salvation there are countless ones that talk about our need to be faithful with what he has given us. I will give an account for how I raise these boys. I have a responsibility to teach them and train them in God's ways. God's sovereignty is intertwined with my responsibility. But that doesn't mean I can save them. It doesn't mean that my every sin towards them will lead them on a swift path to destruction. It doesn't mean that my catechizing of them will lead them to repentance and faith. I obey and God gives the results.

This is incredibly freeing for an often sinful momma. But it's freeing for everyone, really. Maybe the unsaved person in your life is your brother or sister, mother or father, husband or wife, co-worker, friend, or neighbor. The truth remains. There is no other name under heaven by which men can be saved (Acts 4:12). And that name isn't Courtney (or your name). It's Jesus Christ.

We will not always present the message of Jesus' life, death, and resurrection perfectly. In fact, we often won't even come close. At times, our lives will betray the very Jesus we love. We will miss the mark with those we care about. We will sin against them. We will serve them in our own interests, not their own. But Jesus is the one who saves. The same blood that covers us can cover our loved ones, too.

There is freedom in that, my friends. When we are overwhelmed by how much we sin against our kids, our spouses, our friends, and church members we are given an opportunity to show them that Jesus saves us, too. We repent before God and them, seek forgiveness, and trust in his grace to make us more like him. Our kids will see that testimony of the power of Jesus just as evidently, if not more so, than if we had always done everything well.

I'm so thankful that Jesus saves. It gives me hope, not just for me, but for my kids, family, and friends, too. He makes dead hearts beat again. He opens blind eyes. And he alone can save even the vilest sinner.

Our Speech Held Back

I've talked about why I need this exercise in thinking through how I speak. I've also talked about who we are addressing when we use our words for good or for evil. But I've also been convicted lately about the need to restrain my speech. I'm a talker. I like to use my words. When I'm happy, that's a good thing. When I'm angry, not so much. In the heat of an argument or when my feelings are hurt, words fly like fiery daggers. I even would go so far as to say that I feel as if it's my duty to throw words in a moment of rage. If I don't, who will? If I'm offended, who will speak in my defense? If my feelings were hurt or I was wronged in some way, how will that person (namely, my husband) ever know how badly he needs to change if I don't say something right then? So I load the ammunition of words into my mouth and fire away.

My sense of justice is my guide.

But I think scripture provides another, more helpful, way.

Whoever covers an offense seeks love, but he who repeats a matter separates close friends (Proverbs 17:9).

Now, I am not talking about offenses that are physically harmful, recurring, or out of the ordinary. I'm talking about the day to day offenses that arise because we are sinners trying to live together in a fallen world. The mundane offenses that threaten to undo us. Your husband forgot something important (like planning a date), again. Your wife neglected you after a busy day at work, again. Your roommate went behind your back, again. Your friend talked only about herself, while failing to ask how your difficult situation was going again. All of these offenses are hurtful, sinful, and can damage a relationship. Which is what the writer of Proverbs is getting at.

Suppose your spouse or friend confesses this sin to you. They understand what they did was wrong, yet you still feel the sting of rejection and hurt. What do you do? Do you make them pay with your words? It's an easy out for me. I understand the temptation. But the writer of Proverbs gives us a better way. He tells us that repeating the sin will be the death of the relationship. And who hasn't seen that happen, right? But covering the offense is actually the loving thing to do.

So how do you "cover an offense"? Does simply saying "I forgive you" make it go away? Anyone who has ever tried reconciling knows that doesn't always cut it. Throughout scripture we are given a picture of God covering the offenses of his people. And we feel the tension of the Old Testament when God covered the offenses of the Israelites, yet they continued to go back to their sin. There needed to be a better, more complete covering, to deal with the magnitude of sin. When we are sinned against we feel it, too. I imagine that is why we feel the need to use our own words to wound. In our hurt we want the sinner to pay for what they have done to us, and in our pride we think our words will suffice.

But like the Israelites before us, there is nothing in us that will ever truly cover the offenses done against us and within us. This is why Christ had to come. Unlike the Israelites, we do have a way forward in covering the offenses of others. We live on the other side of the cross. As Paul tells us in Romans 3:25, Christ was our propitiation (our covering) for the sins we have committed (and will commit). It is only through his blood that we can truly be cleansed from our unrighteousness and covered with his righteousness.

So what does the propitiation of Christ have to do with our speech?

Everything.

We can cover the offenses done against us because of the cross. The cross assures us that the sin done against us was paid for by Christ, if the offender is a believer. And if not, the cross assures us that one day Christ will come back and judge that sin on the last day. The bases regarding all sin committed against us are covered. There is nothing left for us to add to it.

This should free us in our conversations with others. When we are hurt, we can forgive because of Christ's blood and coming judgment. When we are offended, we can cover the offense because Christ has either paid for that offense or will judge it one day.

Jesus' blood is powerful enough to cleanse even the greatest offense we endure. He frees us to love, not hate when we are sinned against. He frees us to restrain our words in times of emotional crisis, and use our words for good, not evil. His blood shed for us is the means by which our speech is held back, even when our hearts tell us that our only defense is the dagger of our words. We can choose another way.

Hannah's Loss

Whenever I hear someone talk about Hannah from 1 Samuel it is usually because of her great trust in the midst of her barrenness. She is the test case for infertility, really. Barren in a culture that gave women their worth by the fruit of their womb. Reviled by the second wife who bore her husband the multitude of children she so desperately wanted, yet couldn't have. Misunderstood by those around her who observed her grief over her emptiness. Yet, she trusted God in the midst of it all. And God heard her prayer of desperation.

But there is something about Hannah that I often overlook. As I was listening to this sermon the other day I was struck by something in this biblical story.

Hannah lost the son she begged for.

In the wake of her great joy over her precious son, she walked in obedience to a vow she made to God and gave her son back to the One who gave her the gift of life in the first place (1 Samuel 1:11, 22, 28). The pastor I was listening to said that it would be expected for Hannah to respond to such a loss with unimaginable grief. This was pre-Skype, pre-texting, pre-modern mail system. Saying goodbye to her son, Samuel, meant saying goodbye forever. When she left him with Eli she left with him every dream of seeing him grow into a man. Every dream of seeing him learn how to write his name, read a book, or do anything that a normal little boy does. Except for the times when they went up to offer yearly sacrifices, when she left him with Eli that was it. As she promised in that tear filled moment before his conception, she gave her son back to God.

But what does Hannah do? She worships God (1 Samuel 2:1-11). She doesn't shake her fist at him in anger. She doesn't go back on her word. She worships the One who gives all good things to his children. She praises him for his character, his goodness, and his faithfulness to his people. She just kissed her little boy goodbye, left him forever, and all she can do is look to God and praise his name.

What Hannah recognized was that her son was really not hers to claim. He was a gift. God gave him to her and he had the right to take him back. She understood that the focal point of all of her barrenness, all of her pain, and all of her joy in the birth of her son was God. It was not about her getting everything she wished for. It was about God being magnified in her life and in the life of her boy.

And oh, how he was magnified. It was through this longed for boy that God would bring his people back to himself and prepare them for a king. It was through his leadership that the line of David, the line of our Christ, would be established. Hannah's loss was not for naught. It was for us. It was for our joy. It was for our salvation.

Rarely do we see the final outcome of our losses. We don't often get to see the ultimate point of them all, but it doesn't mean it is not there. Hannah never got to see the Christ who was promised. She probably never saw the king who would carry the lineage of our perfect King Jesus. But she trusted the promise nonetheless. She knew her story wasn't the final word. Neither is ours. How do we know this? Because of the loss of another--our precious Christ. It is his loss that assures us that our losses mean something much deeper than the agony we feel in the moment. It is his loss that promises that one day all things will be made right by his once and for all defeat of all things evil. Hannah hoped in the God who would get this done in his time. And so should we. Hannah was able to look in the face of her precious boy as she walked away from him for the last time and know that God would win in the end and her loss was not in vain. The same is true for us, friends. The same is true for us.

You Mean, I'm a Sinner?!?!

I don't know anyone who enjoys being confronted in their sin. I know I don't. Sometimes the confrontation comes from a trusted friend, sometimes a sermon, or sometimes it comes from God's word. Depending on how it is delivered to us, our reaction to it varies.

I have often read the stories of the prophets and Israel through a judgmental eye. I think to myself, how can they repeatedly stiffen their neck against God and his word? In my stinging judgment, I think that if I were in their shoes surely I would repent. How could you not when promised condemnation is right around the corner? It's so easy to just repent and trust God!

Or not.

My reaction to confrontation is no different sometimes. I am confronted with my sin and I plug my ears or turn my nose up at the burning conviction that comes from a trusted friend or God's word. It's not fun being called out, but it's necessary. It's a warning shot to our souls.

That's the beauty of God's word. On the pages of holy scripture we find our souls laid bare. Scripture gets us in ways we don't even realize. When we read God's word we are not an external spectator who knows a better way now, as if we don't still struggle with the very same sins. Ecclesiastes says there is nothing new under the sun, and that is no more clearer than it is in God's word. There are no new sins, just sins repackaged for a particular culture, person, and context. This gives us hope. While we see ourselves in all our ugliness diagnosed rightly in God's word, we also find the solution. The same solution that was given to the rebellious Israelites is true for us.

Turn to God in repentance and find hope.

The hope for me when I'm confronted with my sin is that God has made a way. The judgment is not the final story. Christ is. So when I'm discouraged by the accurate diagnosis of the depths of my sin, I can also be confronted with the amazing reality that Christ has paid it all.

The bible is both the diagnosis of our problem and the perfect solution. Christ is all we need.

So, yes, I am a great sinner--the bible tells me so. But I also have a great savior.

Freedom, Such a Helpful Word

Our church is doing a women's bible study on Galatians. So far, we are two weeks in and every week I have been so helped in my daily desire to know more of Christ. Last week we looked at Galatians 1:10-24 and how Paul was living to please God rather than man. As long as I have been a Christian, fear of man has been a struggle for me. And I don't think I am alone. With each season of my life I find new areas where it is a daily battle to live for God rather than my peers. When I was single, I wanted to look like I was perfectly content in my singleness so those around me would praise me for my trust in God. When I first got married, I wanted to be the next Martha Stewart, always poised and ready to bake, clean, and craft at the drop of a hat. When I was pregnant, I wanted to be the glowing, happy pregnant woman who handles pregnancy and labor like a champ. And now that I am a mom of two busy 7 month olds, I want people to look at my skills and praise me for my ability to handle the daily grind of motherhood.

Let's snap back to reality. I often didn't model contentment in my single days. I struggled to maintain a clean and organized home in my early days of wedded bliss (among other things). My pregnancy was hardly a breeze. And about motherhood? Well, let's just say God is in the business of humbling people.

In the midst of my endless quest to look like I have it all together, I often forget that it's not about what others think of me anyway. Paul reminds us in Galatians 1:10 that as blood-bought followers of Christ, we no longer live for the approval of men. Rather, we are servants of Christ. And everyone knows that no one can serve two masters, at least not for long (Matt. 6:24).

As I worked on my bible study lesson last week the word that kept ringing through my mind was "freedom." Of course we know that Christ has set us free from the most important chain that binds us, our sin. But he also has freed us from having to live for other people's praise (or even their criticism). When my mood lives and dies by the approval or disapproval of those around me I am essentially saying that they are more important than God. But even more important, and freeing, is the reality that there is nothing anyone can say about us that will make us anymore sinful in God's eyes, because he sees it all--even things nobody else sees. On the flip side of that, there is nothing we can do that will make us any more righteous in God's eyes either, because Christ righteousness is all we need.

And while I am so far from having this truth down in my heart, I am thankful for the reminder from Galatians that it is for freedom that Christ has set us free (Gal. 5:1). We no longer need to live under the bondage of our own quest for self-glorification, because we have been given something far better--the Glorious One.

Faithfulness and Legalism

People often use Galatians in the fight against legalism, and rightfully so. In the letter, Paul is combating legalism in the lives of the Galatian Christians. Many of them are abandoning the true gospel of Jesus Christ for Judaism. They would rather work to earn their salvation than trust in the grace of Christ’s atoning work. But these days it seems the legalism label gets slapped on anything that smells of telling someone else what God requires of them. As one who tends towards legalism, I understand the dangers of believing your good works can save you. I know what it’s like to prefer a list over faith in the work of Another. I know what it’s like to turn down my nose at someone who does things differently than me, or worse does things that I have deemed unacceptable in God’s eyes (but really isn’t as bad as I think). And to turn the finger even more towards me, I know what it’s like to swell with sinful pride over my own perceived good Christian behavior, if that’s even possible.

But what concerns me about the quickness to call many things legalism is that I think it’s missing a larger point, and one that Paul makes repeatedly in Galatians. Legalism is the belief that your good works save you. Legalism is the belief that obedience to the law, whether it’s God’s law or another law, is what secures your salvation. The Jewish people believed their faith rested on this obedience. They were wrong all along.

Paul is not writing to the Galatians encouraging them to abandon obedience to God or even good works. In fact, he spends a good part of Galatians 5 talking about obedience. He even goes so far as to distinguish between walking by the Spirit and walking by the flesh. In Paul’s (and God’s) eyes those are two very different things. Galatians 5:16-24 says:

 

“But I say, walk by the Spirit, and you will not gratify the desires of the flesh. For the desires of the flesh are against the Spirit, and the desires of the Spirit are against the flesh, for these are opposed to each other, to keep you from doing the things you want to do. But if you are led by the Spirit, you are not under the law. Now the works of the flesh are evident: sexual immorality, impurity, sensuality, idolatry, sorcery, enmity, strife, jealousy, fits of anger, rivalries, dissensions, divisions, envy, drunkenness, orgies, and things like these. I warn you, as I warned you before, that those who do such things will not inherit the kingdom of God. But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such things there is no law. And those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires.”

Essentially Paul is saying that if we are saved by Christ, and indwelt by the Holy Spirit, there will be a distinctiveness to our life—i.e. good works. This doesn’t mean those works save us, make us better than others, or even give us grounds for boasting. Rather those good works prove that we were even saved to begin with. Those who “inherit the kingdom of God” are those who are redeemed by Christ. Our obedience is not our ticket to heaven bought by us. It’s our proof of purchase, and Christ is the one who purchased us.

 

My concern with the quickness to define any call to obedience or faithfulness as legalism is that it misses the reason for which we were called—to give God glory. God gets all the glory when we walk humbly with him. Our meager lives of faithfulness tell a wonderful story of what God has done in our lives through Christ. When we diminish faithfulness to the Savior we diminish that testimony.

Paul knew better than anybody what it was like to be tempted to boast in his own righteousness. He was a former Jewish leader who rarely did anything wrong in the world’s eyes. But instead of telling Christians to let grace be grace, namely abandon the law, he tells them to do something even greater. He tells them to walk by the Spirit. He tells them to put on love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. These things defy the law because they are impossible to do on our own, which is why he tells us again in Galatians 6:9 to “not grow weary in doing good.” Christians are called to good works. Christians should expect faithfulness of one another. Christians should want to live according to the fruit of the Spirit. But Christians also know that apart from Christ all our faithfulness is in vain.

 

Legalism is a serious sin with serious consequences. But so is lack of faithfulness. Both acts lead to disastrous conclusions. As Christians, we should fight them both with the very weapons Paul uses, namely the Holy Spirit. It is only through his abundant work that we will be able to stand against legalism and licentiousness in our own hearts.

Help! I Need Somebody

I really don't like asking for help. Maybe it's the oldest child in me (i.e. pride and self-sufficiency). Or maybe I just feel bad inconveniencing people (again, pride). But I really don't like having to ask for help, especially on a regular basis. And lately, it seems like that is all I am doing.

Nothing says helpless like the third trimester of a twin pregnancy. Most days I need help putting on my shoes. I can't get all of the household tasks done. After I cook dinner I'm just too tired to do the dishes. It takes me days to put away the laundry. I need help getting out of the recliner, and sometimes off the couch. When my husband travels I can't stay alone anymore because there are too many variables that could go wrong. And the list could go on. I am a woman in need of a lot of help. Add to this mix the fact that the last few years have been fairly needy for me (surgery, infertility, miscarriage, moving), and I feel like God is doing a number on my prideful self-sufficiency.

Asking for help does something to you. It is a declaration of dependency. When I ask for help I am essentially saying "I cannot do this on my own. I need the aid of another." Asking for help is an acknowledgment that I do not have it all together, and who really likes to do that?

But as I've reflected on my helplessness these last few months I've been reminded that any self-sufficiency on my part is only an illusion. Even in my healthiest days, my ability to move with relative ease and take care of my daily tasks with speed were still not of my own making. James reminds us that there is nothing we have that we did not receive. Left to ourselves we are a helpless people, in pregnancy and in non-pregnancy. Our inability to complete everything we want to do on a given day, even in the best of circumstances, reminds us of our finiteness--and God's infiniteness. Only God gets his to-do list done. Only God is self-sufficient. We are not.

And this understanding of our helplessness translates into our need for a Savior. We bring nothing to the table when it comes to God accepting us. In fact, we can't even save ourselves. The more we see our own helplessness as human beings, the more we will see our desperate need for the salvation that only Christ can bring. My weak attempts to put my shoes on in the morning are simply a reminder that this weakness pales in comparison to the deep weakness in my own soul (i.e. sin). Sin is my greatest problem. And sin is what keeps me from seeing the Savior. Every other little weakness I face on a daily basis reminds me that God is God and I am not. I bring nothing to the table except filthy rags. He provides every grace and garment needed to cover my sinful pride and weakness.

So the next time I'm struggling to put shoes on my swollen feet, or when I feel like a beached whale trying to get off the couch, I will remember that these momentary weaknesses are reminders of my smallness. Only God is self-sufficient. Only God gets everything done every day. Only God is capable of never asking for help. And when I ask for help, no matter how hard it is, I am acknowledging once again that he is God and I am not.

You Are Not Forgotten This Christmas (A Repost)

I wrote this post last Christmas, but I think it's relevant for this one as well. It's easy to get so caught up in the hustle and bustle of Christmas and miss the fact that many people feel very alone and forgotten during the Christmas season. If that is you this Christmas, I pray that this post is an encouragement to you.

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For many people the Christmas season is a joyous time filled with family gatherings, way too much (good) food, and an abundance of gifts. But for some, it’s far from the most wonderful time of the year. Christmas is only a reminder of what is missing, or broken, or not right. Christmas only highlights the fact that they feel completely forgotten by God.

It’s easy to make that leap if you are walking through a difficult season of your life. The external circumstances are grim and there seems to be no relief at the end of the dark tunnel you are staring down. If this is your life this Christmas season, you have far more in common with the biblical characters surrounding the Christmas story than you might think. The people who make up the birth account of our Christ are a very unlikely cast of characters. They are an old couple who are burdened with childlessness, a poor teenage virgin with a husband from an obscure town, and the Savior himself—born in a manger, not a much deserved royal palace. Christ’s descent to earth was (and still is) a loud call to all of us that we have not been forgotten.

Zechariah and Elizabeth
Consider this unlikely couple. Every external observation implies that they are long forgotten by God. Luke tells us that while they have asked God for a child for many years, they have now reached old age with no child to call their own. In this culture barrenness meant certain reproach for Elizabeth. She would be viewed by her community as defective and unable to do the very thing she was created to do—bring life into the world. When the women around her experienced pregnancy after pregnancy, Elizabeth was an outsider looking into a world she couldn’t know. Zechariah surely faced tremendous pressure also as he cared for his wife, grieved his own loss of having no heir, and fulfilled his God-given duties as priest. While many would give into the temptation to sin by taking the matter into their own hands, or turning from the God who made them, we are given a small glimpse into Zechariah and Elizabeth’s response to their lifelong infertility. They were righteous. They entrusted themselves to a faithful God, believing in his promises to them, and trusting that he would work good in their lives. They hoped in him alone and believed that he was not finished with them yet.

And he wasn’t.

We know from the rest of the story that God answers their prayer for a child, and not just any child, but the child who would be the promised forerunner to the Messiah. This old couple who waited years for God to answer their longing for a child, now have one who plays a pivotal role in the greatest story of history—the story of Jesus.

Mary and Joseph
By the time the angel appeared to Mary, and ultimately Joseph, the people of Israel had experienced over 400 years of silence from God. Many Jewish people died having never witnessed any revelation, prophetic voice, or tangible act from God. And that took its toll on God’s people. Many Israelites turned away, determining that God’s promises could not really be true. Mary and Joseph, who Luke tells us are righteous people, represent the faithful few. They are the ones who held on to the Old Testament promises even when it seemed like God would never act. It was through this seemingly insignificant girl that the Savior would come into the world. In a cave filled with animals, in a small town far away from home, she would give birth to the Messiah with her loyal husband by her side. No one would have expected it from them.

And that is how God works. He takes the forgotten, the outcast, the insignificant and shows them his kindness and greatness by glorifying himself through them, sometimes in some of the most surprising ways.

Christ the Savior
But no one shows that we are not forgotten more than the Savior himself. Isaiah 53 says:

“He was despised and rejected by men;
a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief;
and as one from whom men hide their faces
he was despised, and we esteemed him not.
Surely he has borne our griefs
and carried our sorrows;
yet we esteemed him stricken,
smitten by God, and afflicted.
But he was wounded for our transgressions;
he was crushed for our iniquities;
upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace,
and with his stripes we are healed.”

He was momentarily forgotten, afflicted, and separated from God the Father so you would never have to be. That holy night in Bethlehem was moving towards this very reality. Christmas is the precursor to Easter. The incarnation proves that God keeps his promises, and the atonement on the cross seals that promise for good, making us God’s own children. It proves that you are not forgotten because God can never forget his own.

The wonder of Christmas is that we weren’t forgotten. And he showed up in the lives of people who the world viewed as forgotten and of little worth. God became man to rescue us from our sin and bring us into fellowship with himself. He made himself nothing, identifying with lowly and despised people to show that no one is forgotten regardless of their circumstances. You are not forgotten this Christmas, or anytime of the year. The manger where this little baby lay all those years ago is proof of that

The Cross Leads Us to Worship

I've been slowly reading through The Gospel Primer the last few weeks. The first part of my pregnancy was so rough that I often struggled to read anything. But lately I have been able to pick it up again. I have heard nothing but good things about this book, so when Daniel bought it a few months ago I couldn't wait to read it. I'm not quite finished with it yet, but here are a couple of quotes that really ministered to me when I read them:

"The deeper I go into the gospel, the more I comprehend and confess aloud the depth of my sinfulness. A gruesome death like the one that Christ endured for me would only be required for one who is exceedingly sinful and unable to appease a holy God. Consequently, whenever I consider the necessity and manner of His death, along with the love and selflessness behind it, I am laid bare and utterly exposed for the sinner I am. Such an awareness of my sinfulness does not drag me down, but actually serves to lift me up by magnifying my appreciation of God's forgiving grace in my life" (33).

"The Cross also exposes me before the eyes of people, informing them of the depth of my depravity. If I wanted others to think highly of me, I would conceal the fact that a shameful slaughter of the perfect Son of God was required that I might be saved...Thankfully, the more exposed I see that I am by the Cross, the more I find myself opening up to others about ongoing issues of sin in my life. (Why would anyone be shocked to hear of my struggles with past and present sin when the Cross already told them I am a desperately sinful person" (34).

What Jesus accomplished for us on the Cross frees us to be honest about who we are as sinful human beings. But in turn it enables us to worship him abundantly because of that amazing work done on our behalf. This is good news!

Interview with Nancy Guthrie

I have admired Nancy Guthrie and her writing for a while now, so I was honored to be able to interview her for The Gospel Coalition. The topic was her most recent book, the next installment of her bible study series called Seeing Jesus in the Old Testament. I have had the privilege of reading all of these studies and The Lamb of God: Seeing Jesus in Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy did not disappoint. When our church is able to have a women's bible study, I really hope we can use these studies. They are excellent. They are rich with biblical truth, engaging, and open up a less often studied part of the Bible by women. Here is a taste of the interview, but you will really want to go and read the whole thing.

How can we, this side of the Cross, benefit from studying the Pentateuch---and Exodus through Deuteronomy in particular?

This story of salvation is really our story. Israel's emergence from slavery shows us how God brings us out of our slavery to sin. We are saved only as we come under the covering of the blood of the lamb. Only as we "stand still and see the salvation of the Lord" do we pass from death to life. Our story is one of being guided and provided for as we walk through the wilderness called life in this world.

Only when we grasp how the various sacrifices dealt with sin can we grasp the full forgiveness provided to us in the once-for-all sacrifice of Christ. And only when we see how the purity laws allowed for what was unclean to be made clean and what was clean to be made holy can we grasp that we who are unclean can be made clean through the sacrifice of Christ, and that we who are clean can even made holy so that we might enter into the very presence of God.

Read the rest here.

There is a Better Sacrifice

Like many in our country I have been amazed by the stories of the men who gave their lives to protect the women in theater nine nearly two weeks ago. It has caused many to stop and reflect on the nature of manhood and the inherent desire in men to protect women in a moment of crisis. And many would say that is a good thing. We are thankful for the heroes, the protectors, and the men who gave the greatest sacrifice in the face of tremendous danger.

But in a lot of ways these stories fascinate us because we all feel the weight of what it means to sacrifice your life. We have grown up hearing stories of war heroes, ordinary men, and family members who considered the needs of others before themselves. And as much as our praise of such men is rooted in the God given understanding that men are supposed to protect, there is also a God given recognition that we all need a sacrifice in our place, even if that knowledge is masked by pride and sin. In the terrifying moments of danger threatening to overtake us, none of us would tell a would-be hero, “I would rather not have the sacrifice, thank you. I will take my chances.” Yet we do it all of the time when a far greater danger crouches at our door seeking to devour us. Our need for a sacrifice to absorb the violence of our sin is far greater than what any ordinary human being can ensure. They can only buy us a few more years, and after that comes judgment. But Christ has taken it all upon himself, and promises that no amount of earthly torment can take away the protection and provision that his substitutionary death accomplishes.

We are drawn to the stories of sacrifice and heroism because we all want to believe that this world is not as bad as it seems, and that there is hope in the midst of chaos. We all want to believe that when terror strikes we will have a sacrifice ready to take our place. And there is. His name is Jesus. He is the perfect protector, provider, and healer when everything else around us threatens to undo us. While we can praise these men who gave their lives for their family and friends, we must not let our praise stop there. There is a better sacrifice for us. It is a sacrifice that abolishes death and destruction. These men bravely gave their lives, but it cost them something that cannot be reversed apart from the sacrifice of another.

James Taranto of the Wall Street Journal tweeted earlier last week, somewhat insensitively, that he hoped these women were worthy of the sacrifice. He went on to explain that he meant that these women had been given a gift in the sacrifice, namely the gift of life. It is now their responsibility to use that gift well, essentially proving their worthiness of the sacrifice.

But if sacrifice is defined in terms of the worthiness of the recipient, then it is not really sacrifice at all, is it? What motivated these men to cover these women we will never fully know. But for many of us, we know what would motivate us. Love. Even if they had been fighting with their girlfriends’ right up to the start of the movie, these men probably would have still given their lives. Yet we want to know the details. We want to know the backstory to the relationship. We want to know that she was worth his life being taken from him. Why? Because like our gravitation towards sacrificial imagery, we like to know that the one receiving the sacrifice is worth it in the end. If one of these women had been cheating on her boyfriend, or ready to break-up with him, we would not appreciate the sacrifice as much. If she squanders her life over the next twenty years, we think he will have died in vain.

And a lot of times this is why it is so hard for us to accept the sacrifice of Christ. When Jesus died for sinners, like you and me, it had nothing to do with our worthiness as a recipient of his death. Yet, he did it anyway. He took every ounce of our sin on himself and covers us with his righteousness instead, protecting us from the horrific wrath to come, and there is nothing we did to deserve it. In fact, everything we have ever done proves we don’t deserve a lick of it.

The discussion surrounding these Aurora three and the women they saved is going to be around for a while, and it should. Over time stories may emerge about these men that portray them as less than ideal sacrifices. But it shouldn’t startle us. A mere earthly sacrifice by a boyfriend or husband, while noble and good,  is not enough to remove the stain of sin. We need a greater sacrifice. The Old Testament saints knew this well when they continually had to return to the altar to make atonement for their sins. The blood of bulls and goats can no more take away sin than the blood of an imperfect man. We all need Jesus as our sacrifice.

So let us have the discussion about the great sacrifices made in Aurora. But let us not end there. As Christians, it should cause us to remember the even greater sacrifice that enables us to lay our lives down not only for our friends, but our enemies as well. It should compel us to tell those around us that the reason we are drawn to heroic tales is because we have a void in our souls telling us that we need to be rescued as well. And it should give us greater hope that no matter the sacrifice we make on this earth, we have been rescued from the greatest enemy of all—our sin. There is a day coming when this will all be over and we will be with our rescuer forever.

Thoughts on the Parade of Nations

Like I said on Friday, I really like the Olympics. While I know there are mixed opinions about the opening ceremonies, it is honestly one of my favorite parts of the games. Yes, it drags on a bit. Yes, it can be difficult to interpret at times. But there is something about the parade of nations that gets me every time. I will most likely never visit the majority of the countries who are represented at the Olympics, but for just a brief moment I get to learn a little about them. And I love that. I love seeing the faces of the people from obscure or underrepresented countries. They are so proud. They are so excited. They appreciate the moment in ways we Americans will probably never realize.

Friday's opening ceremonies made me want to study my map more. It made me want to learn about each country beyond mere sporting events and Olympic grandeur. As I watched each country march into Olympic stadium, I marveled at the God who is so creative to fashion such a beautiful diversity of people all made in his image. He could have made us all look exactly the same. But he didn't. Instead he created races, body types, physical distinctions, and so much more in such a way that he gets greater glory because of it. I'm glad everyone doesn't look like me. It makes me stop and praise our great God in even greater measure because of these beautiful distinctions.

But there is something even more profound that stayed with me from the opening ceremonies. One day every nation will bow not to their country's flag, but to King Jesus. Right now, every country represented wants nothing more than to make their country proud. As they marched into Olympic stadium they were defined by their nationality. Every country represented at the games will proudly display their flag for the duration of the games. While the games do unify the world like no other event, they also separate us in a sense. We are all rooting for our own country over these next seventeen days.

But one day the only thing that will define us is our relation to this coming King. Even affiliation with the greatest country on earth will fade away in light of the amazing glory of Jesus Christ. Jesus is making for himself a people, a new nation, who will worship him forever. As much as we are proud of our country of origin, as Christians, our calling to Christ is much greater.

While every one will bow to the King one day, some will bow by compulsion not worship. The parade of nations is a sobering reminder that many do not yet know this King. It is a reminder that the nations need to hear of this Jesus. And it is a reminder that all pomp, glory, and esteem will one day fade away in the unrelenting splendor of our coming King.

“Great and amazing are your deeds,
O Lord God the Almighty!
Just and true are your ways,
O King of the nations!
Who will not fear, O Lord,
and glorify your name?
For you alone are holy.
All nations will come
and worship you,
for your righteous acts have been revealed.”

- Revelation 15:3-4

No Condemnation

If you are anything like me, you regularly (sometimes daily) come back to the truth of Romans 8:1, which says “there is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” And if you have ever taken a bible interpretation class or listened to your pastor explain the context of a specific passage you know that whenever we see a “therefore” we must always ask what it is there for. Clever, I know. But it’s catchy and helpful isn’t it? So what is this “therefore” talking about in Romans 8:1?

It’s talking about Romans 7. We all know Romans 7, right? It is the passage where Paul recounts the tension of the new man versus the old man. Sin still plagues him. He knows what he should do and yet he still does the opposite. Romans 7 is a reminder to us that sin is a vicious, life-sucking enemy that doesn’t know when to let go.

Who can relate to the tension and struggle of Romans 7? Let me be the first to raise my hand to say “I can.” How many times have I lashed out at my husband in anger, cussed at a driver who got in my way or cut me off (bad, I know), gossiped about a person I didn’t like, or harbored bitterness in my heart against someone who has wronged me? Deep down in my heart I know these are sinful responses. But sometimes I do them anyway. The good I want to do I don’t do, and the bad just keeps hanging on. Romans 7 is filled with tension and struggle with sin and then Paul delivers the hammer of gospel hope for all believers—if you are in Christ those sins do not condemn you.

And that is why Romans 8:1 is so refreshing and encouraging. Yes, I sin. Yes, I still have lingering issues that don’t seem to go away. Yes, I hurt people with my tongue and my actions. But because of the atoning work of Jesus Christ on my behalf those sins do not secure my fate in hell. Instead, I am resting on the fate of another—Jesus Christ.

Romans 7 left to itself can be a startling reality. Enter Romans 8 and we have the hope that Jesus paid it all for us. You might feel overwhelmed by your sin and the battle in your soul today, but you can bank on this truth—Christ has won that battle for and you are not condemned. You may feel convicted and remorseful, and rightfully so. But you are not condemned. Preach this amazing truth to yourself when you feel the water of condemnation rising up around your weary head.

“There is therefore no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.”

He is the Complete and Final Sacrifice for Sin

"Here is the true, the final, and the all-sufficient sacrifice for sin. Jesus not only endures God's just wrath on the cross, but he exhausts and satisfies it, draining it down to the bitter dregs, so that there is none left. In satisfying God's wrath, Jesus also shows us that here at last is the true king and judge who conquers the enemy of his people--not flesh and blood, but sin and death--and delivers us from the power of both...

Christian, your sins have been paid for, your substitute was sufficient, and you have been brought to God. Christ is done with your sin--and so are you. The trials of this life are small in comparison to the future Christ has secured for you. So do not grow fond of this world's love, and do not faint under this world's scorn. Christ died for sin, for sinners, for God, so that you may live for God and with God, now and forevermore."

-Michael Lawrence, It Is Well: Expositions on Substitutionary Atonement

Infertility Does Not Define You

One of the constant struggles in my journey of infertility is to not believe the lie that I am defined by my infertility. Many times it feels like if you were to look up the word infertile in the dictionary my picture would be there staring back at you. Of course, it is easy to feel this way. Regardless of the medical condition causing the problem, the diagnosis from the doctor is that for the time being I am infertile. Infertility is keeping me from getting pregnant. Treatments, medicine, tests, and the like occupy my thoughts. I talk about it with my friends and family. I’m on a first name basis with my doctor. When it takes up so much of your time and money it only takes a few short steps to get to the point where you think it makes you who you are.  

Maybe you are like me. Maybe you are dealing with infertility and find yourself defined by what ails you. Maybe you look in the mirror and only see a woman with a faulty womb or hormonal imbalance rather than a daughter of King Jesus. I know I have.

After Mother’s Day it’s especially easy to dwell on these feelings. Amid the plethora of “happy mother’s day” niceties a couple of days ago you want to scream “It’s not a happy day and I’m not a mother!” Or maybe you are dealing with the aftermath of feeling like you stuck out like a sore thumb, surrounded by the happy moms and babies while your arms were noticeably empty.

I suppose the struggle with finding our identity in our circumstances is not unique to the infertile woman. The man who faces another week of chemotherapy surely wrestles with feeling like his cancer defines him. The unemployed college graduate with mounting college debt must fight the temptation to believe that a job will provide the identity she needs to make it in the world. But there is something about infertility that hits at the core of who you are as a woman. God created women to bear and nurture life. Prior to a diagnosis of infertility, many infertile women never imagined they would be facing this suffering. They thought motherhood would come naturally and easily. Bringing life into the world is a unique and glorious task given only to women. And when you can’t even do that, it jars you. But does it define you?

The reality is that as believers we can rest in the fact that our identity is not in our sufferings, disappointments, or losses. After our miscarriage I had to fight to believe that people didn’t see a big “M” on my chest whenever I walked into a room. We don’t bear the scarlet letter of our sufferings. While they do mark us and shape us, they do not have the final word in our life. We bear the name of Christ, who bore the most horrid scarlet letter for us so we could now be identified with him. This means that no matter what suffering we face, even as personal and deep as infertility is, our identity is not wrapped up in the trial. Because we are identified with Christ, one day we will no longer bear the scars of our suffering. What glorious news this is! Consider the words of Paul to the Philippians:

“But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ. Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him (Phil. 3:7-9a).

This verse has been on my mind ever since Sunday. Paul is saying that any good thing and any gain he could have had before he counts as trash compared to knowing Christ and being found in him. Paul’s, and our, identity is wrapped up in knowing Christ and being known by Christ. Can I say this with Paul, that every gain I could have had, even the amazing gain of having a child of my own, is loss compared to knowing Christ? Sometimes I’m there. Other times I struggle to believe it. But I must remember that the lack of a child does not define me. Christ defines me. How could Paul face suffering in such great magnitude and yet still be joyful in the Lord? How could Paul endure hardship and alienation from people he loved and not turn his back on God? At times he must have felt like the only thing that defined his life was humiliation, pain, and trials, yet he remained steadfast until the end. Why? Because knowing Christ and being identified with him far outweighed every loss he experienced.

The family of God is made up of scarred, broken, suffering people. We have lost treasured possessions and loved ones, faced dashed dreams and expectations, weathered disappointment and sorrow. But all of these realities will not have the final say in our life. Because of Christ, every earthly gain we could have received is nothing compared to what we will get one day when we see Christ face to face. We are merely pilgrims on this earth, waiting for our final home in heaven. What we face on this earth does not define us because this is not all we have to look forward to. Yes, it pains us to walk through suffering. Yes, we weep and cry out to God for mercy and relief. Yes, we grieve and mourn over loss. But one day the God who started the good work in us, and secured our identity in Christ, will bring it all to completion. And it will have all been worth it.

It is tempting to look at my suffering and believe that it makes me who I am. It is tempting to believe that I can never be anything more than a childless woman. It is tempting to believe that my infertility makes me less of a woman and of lesser value in God’s economy. And Satan wants nothing more than for me (and you) to believe those lies. Christ secured our identity before we were even formed in our mother’s womb and long before we even knew we would be infertile. He bought us with his precious blood and paid for our sin so we could be brought into his family and given a home. This is our hope when we feel the ugly lies creeping in that tell us we are not worth anything because of our faulty bodies. We have value and identity not because of our own intrinsic worth, but because of the worth of Christ. And that is what defines us. Remember this truth, dear sister, when you see another negative pregnancy test or bleak diagnosis. You are a child of God. And God gives you your identity.

Reading on the Cross: What's Up Next

I've heard it said that we should never stray far from the cross of Jesus Christ. It's a common misconception that as believers we somehow move on from the message of the cross and on to more practical, weighty matters. This could not be more untrue! We need daily doses of the gospel. We need regular reminders of what the cross accomplished for us. And we need a clear view of the wonderful place called Calvary, where our Savior bore our sins and died the death that we deserve.

That is why I am really excited to start reading It Is Well: Expositions on Substitutionary Atonement by Mark Dever and Michael Lawrence. My dear friend, Laura, just finished reading it and said it was so helpful and encouraging to her soul. One of the things that has helped me most through our trial these past couple of years is being regularly reminded of God's love for me shown most evidently at the cross. When I feel tempted to doubt God's care or involvement in my life, a healthy dose of the truths of the gospel always helps me greatly. And when I am struggling the most with despair and hopelessness I often find that listening to a sermon, reading a Christ-centered book, or listening to a rich hymn stirs my heart to remember that God is for me. It is at the cross that I see this most clearly.

So I suppose this is a book preview, rather than a book review (though that will come once I finish the book!). If you are in need a fresh reminder of the beauty and wonder of the atonement, I invite you to read along!

Hope for Homosexuals

A few years ago a girl I knew remarked that she felt strange visiting her particular hairdresser because she was a lesbian. Knowing that this woman was attracted to women, not men, made her uncomfortable, and eventually she moved on to someone else. She meant no ill-will towards the hairstylist. She was a solid believer, valued God's word, and prayed fervently for lost people to come to Christ. But when it came to the homosexual hair stylist something just didn't sit right with her. I think her response is quite common for many of us within the conservative Christian community. While we all agree that God doesn't hate homosexuals, when it comes down to actually ministering to them we simply don't know what to do. Our response to those in the gay community tends to be similar to our reponse to the person in the throes of grief--in fear we either don't say anything or say way too much of the wrong thing. We don't intentionally treat homosexual people with contempt, but our fear of the unknown tends to overtake our desire to do good by them. I know I have seen it in my own life way too often.

I had the opportunity this week to listen to the panel discussion from T4G on gay marriage. It was basically a question and answer session with Mark Dever asking questions and Dr. Mohler answering. And true to his form Dr. Mohler was extremely helpful in addressing the reality of homosexuality in our churches and communities, while also providing a course of action for the church.

One of the things Mohler said that really stayed with me is that all of us, post-puberty, are broken in our sexual orientation. We live in a post-Genesis 3 world, and as a result we have all sinned sexually in some way. Our sin just manifests itself in different ways, from the guy who is enslaved to pornography to the girl who likes other girls. Sexual sin is sexual sin, and sin is the great equalizer. We are all equally fallen, but by God's abundant grace we all have a way of escape from the sin that entangles us. Homosexuality is not the worst sin a human being can commit. Rejection of God is (Mark 4:22-30). While Romans 1 reminds us of the heinousness of homosexuality, it also tells us that wrath, envy, slander, gossip, disobedience, impurity, and the like all fall under the condemnation of God. Every one of those sins is stemming from a heart that does not believe that God is good and worthy of our worship. We want to worship the creation, rather than the Creator. That idolatry manifests itself differently in our varying personalities and sin tendencies.

The problem with our arguments against homosexuality is that so often they are framed in the context of human behavior rather than concern for the souls of lost people. We think the behavior is gross and so we treat it as such. But what we have to remember is that the people we speak of are image bearers just like us. They are living, breathing human beings who are enslaved to sin and the worship of the god of this age. In Romans 1 the issue is that we worship the creation, rather than the Creator. This leads to a whole host of sins that condemn us. Yes, homosexual behavior needs to change. But so does slander, gossip, murder, jealousy, and even heterosexual immorality. It is all stemming from worshipping something other than God.

Our response to homosexuality must move away from the ideological and political, and move more towards dealing with the hearts of people. Within all of us is a God-shaped void that in our sinful state we will fill with everything but God, because left to ourselves we hate him. What people need is a bigger view of God and of his great love for us in sending us Jesus, who can take away any sin we struggle with--including homosexuality.

Jesus went to the sexually sinful, broken, despised, and rejected of his day, not because he wanted to endorse their behavior but because he wanted to show them that they were worshipping the wrong thing. But the point is that he went to them, regardless of how gross and strange his culture thought they were. And as Christians we have an answer to the guy or girl struggling with same-sex attraction, his name is Jesus. By God's grace, we must be a place where no person struggles in their sin alone, but finds an answer for their sinfulness and hope for change no matter what sin they struggle with.

For a more thorough assessment of this and for some practical instruction on how the church can help homosexuals, you can listen to Dr. Mohler's interview here.

God's Plan for Us

“For I know the plans I have for you, declares the LORD, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.” –Jeremiah 29:11

If you could make money off of a Bible verse this would be the one. It graces graduation cards, posters, and plaques that fill our churches and homes. It’s a happy verse. It makes us think nice things about God. And let’s be honest, it just makes us feel all warm and fuzzy inside. When someone is having a bad day, we quote Jeremiah 29:11 to them. When our friend starts a new business, we tell him about Jeremiah 29:11 and that God is going to prosper his work. When our friends are moving to a new, but uncertain area, Jeremiah 29:11 tells us that God has good plans for them and will give them what they ask for.

But is that the best, or most accurate, interpretation of the text? Is Jeremiah 29:11 the lucky charm for getting all your prayers answered and for living a life of prosperity? Many of us would say we don’t believe God works that way. But when it comes down to it we often act like he does with the way we apply his word to people.

Let’s look at the context of Jeremiah 29:11. This verse comes in the midst of great difficulty. Jeremiah is speaking to the exiles, Israelite people forced to live in another land because of their own rejection of God. They have faced hardship, despair, and sorrow, and Jeremiah is giving them hope that this is not the end of their story. This verse, and the entire chapter really, is God’s declaration of his absolute sovereignty over his people and the outcome of their life. It is his promise that even when they reject him and disobey him, he is the one who will bring them back and restore them (Jer. 29:10). And what is the point of it all? Notice what verse 12 says:

“Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will hear you.”

God’s work in bringing them out of exile and giving them a future hope is that they would call upon him and treasure him above all else. God drove them into exile to discipline them, and he will bring them back to glorify his name. Every move he makes has a divine purpose in the life of his child.

Jeremiah 29:11 is not a trite, catchy verse to be used as a “name it and claim it” promise of God. When we use it this way we run the risk of leading people into discouraging, and often extremely damaging, understandings of God and his purposes for us.

For example, what about the godly, Christian mother whose child is born blind and deaf? Was this part of God’s plan of prosperity that her child would never hear her voice or see her face? Or the husband whose wife dies slowly of cancer? Can he trust that God is still working to give him a “future and a hope” when the love of his life is now gone and all his dreams of a bright future went with her to the grave?

When we use verses like Jeremiah 29:11 outside of their proper context we miss the point of the text and how it works within the entire Bible. In reality, Jeremiah 29:11 has a lot to say to this weary mother and grieving husband. The future and the hope that Jeremiah is talking about is one that is established by God. We who know the end of the story know that while the prosperity, welfare, ease, and comfort might not grace us here in this life, the new covenant promises of Jeremiah are true for us. We are his people. He is our God.

As believers who know the end, we know what this “hope” is all about. And we know how it must come to us. Romans 5 tells us that steadfast hope in God is born out of suffering. It is when we are stripped bare that we are able to be built back up and molded into the image of our Christ (Rom. 5:1-5).

Jeremiah was not telling the Israelites (or us) that God’s plan for us is always good cheer, happy days, and prosperity. Just look around at the Christians you know. Is that what it looks like? But he was telling us that the God who made us, bought us, and sanctifies us will give us the future glory that we all long for. One day we will see what it all means, and more importantly, we will see him.

While it’s easy to use Jeremiah 29:11 as the catch all verse for those in limbo or embarking on a new adventure, check yourself before you put it in that greeting card next time. We never want to give someone the false hope that their life this side of heaven will be everything they want it to be. It might be. But it most likely won’t. What people need is a clear view of what Scripture is teaching about our lives on this earth and what we exist for. And even more than that, they need a big view of God. Jeremiah got that. Let us be careful that we don’t miss his meaning when we decorate our homes with sweet, promising Bible verses. Yes, God is giving us a future and a hope. Yes, he is giving us good welfare and abundant goodness. But we won’t get it all until that final, promised day. When his glory is fully revealed to us and he wipes every tear from our eyes. That is prosperity beyond anything this mere earth could ever provide for us. That is what Jeremiah is hoping for. I am too.

Ask Probing Questions

After yesterday's post, I thought it might be helpful to provide some practical questions to assess your heart for bitterness. They are hard ones, at least for me. I don't always like to ask them of myself, but they almost always produce fruit and conviction, which is necessary for change. Here they are:

If the person you are offended by, struggling with, or angry towards received a good thing (whatever it might be), would you be happy for them or mad that it happened to them?

Better yet, if they did not receive a good thing, or something unfortunate happened to them, would you be happy that it happened or would you feel compassion towards them?

Ouch. As hard as it might be to ask yourself those questions, they reveal things don't they? If they don't right now, you probably can remember moments you have felt this way, right?

Thankfully, like we talked about yesterday, our basis for fighting bitterness is the same hope that ensures our bitter thoughts no longer condemn us. Confess your sin of bitterness to the Lord, and he will forgive you. Praise God for forgiveness!