Redemptive Ramblings

Seeing the faithfulness of God even in the hard things of life.

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  • God is Great. God is Good?

    If I’m honest, I have a bit of a love/hate relationship with southern Africa. I love it immensely, but when I am there, I feel a nostalgic sadness that I hate. For the past 10 years, I’ve chalked it up to a type of homesickness called hiraeth. It’s a Welsh word that translates in English to a longing for a home that no longer exists. But last month, sitting at the edge of the Indian Ocean, watching the waves crash on the rocks, I looked a little further into it. 

    I love my life. I love my husband, my job, my grandchildren. I had none of these things in southern Africa, and if I’d stayed there, I would still have none of them. I don’t actually prefer my life in Cape Town to my life here. (Except the weather. It’s 98F with 95% humidity outside right now in North Carolina! I do prefer the weather in Cape Town. But I think that’s just common sense.) So why do I feel so sad that I no longer have a life I don’t want back?

    The beautiful thing about honest seeking is that when we truly seek an answer to life’s tough questions, He always gives us one. (Matt. 7:7) So as I sat on the rocks honestly asking that question, Jesus answered me. 

    “You don’t miss southern Africa. You don’t even miss your life here. You miss the you that you were before everything happened.” (In case you’re reading this and don’t know me, “everything” can be summarized as the unexpected disintegration of my first marriage and its consequences in the hearts of my children and me.) 

    Oof. I like to feel like I’ve grown so much since then and healed completely. But it’s a lie. I have grown in so many ways. But healed completely? Nah. 

    The thing is, I used to believe God is good. I’m not sure I have really believed that for the past ten years. Not in the deepest part of my heart. I believe wholeheartedly in His power, His strength, His love, and His redemption. But goodness? Sure, long-term goodness. We will be forever with Him in heaven, and hard things on Earth won’t matter anymore. I can get behind that idea. But good to me here, now? Well… I guess it depends on how you define good.

    David talked about how many difficulties he was facing in Psalm 27. Scholars are divided as to whether it was written while he was running from Saul’s murderous rage or Absalom’s insolent rebellion. Either way, David described enemies surrounding him, lying about him, making war against him. He even said he was forsaken by his father and mother. 

    Nowhere in the Psalm does David record God making his life easier. He doesn’t say that God showed up and wiped his enemies off the face of the earth, or even that He defeated them. No, instead, David talks about God hiding him, shielding him, and taking him in. But most of the Psalm isn’t about what God does in the fight. Most of it is about David’s fervent desire to be in God’s presence and see His face. Near the end, he makes a telling statement: “I would have despaired had I not believed that I would see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.” (v.13)

    Despair can be consuming, or it can be quiet. Consuming despair is loud and overwhelming. It drives us to self-medicate with drugs or alcohol; it pushes us to the extreme. But quiet despair is sneaky. We go about our lives in our normal way, and it whispers softly in our ears that God is not for us, is not trustworthy, has abandoned us. 

    I have lived a decade with a quiet despair that has whispered that God doesn’t care about my happiness, only my holiness. That He is working for my eternal good while ignoring my earthly good. That He will use me up and empty the strength from me, asking me to pour out what I don’t have and reminding me that His strength is sufficient. And that in the end, I will see His face, and it will all be worth it.

    The lies are so subtle. Because every one is almost true. And I fell for them. For years. Maybe you have too. So here are a few truths to counteract the lies that despair may be whispering in your ears.

    God cares more about my holiness than my happiness. He never wants me to be happy at the expense of being holy. He’s prioritizing my eternal good over my earthly good, but He wants good things for me on earth too. He will use me to pour out things I never knew were in me until I needed to pour them out. His strength is sufficient for me, and His power is made perfect in my weakness. And when I see His face, every hard thing is worth it.

    Do you see how subtle the changes are? But what a difference those little changes make! 

    Psalm 27 speaks to the difference in verse 8: “When You said, ‘Seek My face,’ My heart said to You, ‘Your face, Lord, I will seek.’” If I don’t seek God’s face, I won’t see His face, and I’ll struggle to believe that God is good. Seeing God shuts the door on despair. It quiets the lies that lead to fear. 

    And so, last month, as I sat on the rocks at Vic Bay, God said, “Seek my face.” I have lived a decade seeking God’s provision, His will, His purpose, His direction. But I’ve been distracted by those things from seeking His face. Gazing on His beauty, enjoying His presence. And as I seek His face, I find myself refreshed and reminded: Yes, God is good.

  • Out of the Shadows

    Fear… it has gripped my heart at times, making me feel helpless and hopeless. I remember the day that my husband of 21 years told me he was leaving me. I remember the knot in my stomach, the shallow breathing that was all I could do, as though my lungs had collapsed under the weight of his decision. The horror I felt as I left the table at the restaurant and hid, ashamed to be seen having my very first panic attack. 

    I had a list of things I was scared of: how this would affect our children, not having enough money, being alone and lonely, and what people would think and say. Overarching all of it was the idea that this was the end of God’s call on my life. I would be a divorced single mom–not ministry material anymore. And what would I do? I loved ministry and had never wanted to do anything else. 

    This was one of the major fear moments of my life, but it’s far from being the only one. Many times, I have faced fear. And that’s common. Over 60% of Americans admit to having at least one unreasonable fear, and every person has felt fear in their lives. God’s Word, however, stands ready to challenge our quick descent into the shadows of fear.

    For you did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry, “Abba! Father!” Romans 8:15 (ESV)

    But what if we choose faith instead of fear? What if we keep believing in who God is and who He calls us to be? What happens when we step out of the shadows of fear into the light of God’s Word?

    Because the truth is, there will always be obstacles to the promised plan that God has for you. Giving up and giving in to fear will never get you to the result that God wants for you. Let’s think back to the spies in Numbers 12–their fear led them to reject the plan of God, to reject the land that He had first promised them and then brought them to! 

    Forty years later, when the next generation got back to the Promised Land, Joshua didn’t send spies. He didn’t even give them the chance to discourage themselves with fear like they had the first time. After the death of Moses, his friend and mentor, God appeared to Joshua, commanding him to finish the work Moses had begun. 

    Be strong and courageous, for you are the one who will lead these people to possess all the land I swore to their ancestors I would give them. Be strong and very courageous. Be careful to obey all the instructions Moses gave you. Do not deviate from them, turning either to the right or to the left. Then you will be successful in everything you do. Study this Book of Instruction continually. Meditate on it day and night so you will be sure to obey everything written in it. Only then will you prosper and succeed in all you do. This is my command, be strong and courageous! Do not be afraid or discouraged. For the LORD your God is with you wherever you go. Joshua 1:6-9 (NLT)

    The greatest nemesis of your destiny is your fear. Fear will whisper to your heart that it would be better to quit trying now. It will say that if God wanted you to do it, it wouldn’t be so hard. It will disguise itself as insecurity, concern, worry, comparison,  self-doubt, and more. Its list of aliases is long, but they all say the same thing: it’s foolish to trust and prudent to quit trying to do what God has called you to. 

    The LORD is my light and my salvation, so why should I be afraid? The LORD is my fortress, protecting me from danger, so why should I tremble? Psalm 27:1(NLT)

    Here’s the thing: trusting God unlocks the courage we need to persist in following Him in the face of whatever obstacles come our way. Too often, we feel as though stepping out courageously requires that we trust ourselves. But a God-given courage comes from a deep confidence in who God is, not who I am! 
    Courage allows us to step out boldly, like Noah building an ark on dry land. It also allows us to get up and keep walking when we fall or make a mistake, which we inevitably will. Because we know it was never really about our ability or goodness in the first place. It was always about Him. 

    Don’t be afraid, for I am with you. Don’t be discouraged, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you. I will hold you up with my victorious right hand. Isaiah 41:10 (NLT)

    In 2 Kings 6, the nation of Israel was at war with the Arameans. God kept tipping the Israelites off through Elisha as to where the Aramean army was, which was not received well by the king of Aram. He sent troops to arrest Elisha. 

    When the servant of the man of God rose early in the morning and went out, behold, an army with horses and chariots was all around the city. And the servant said, “Alas, my master! What shall we do?” He said, “Do not be afraid, for those who are with us are more than those who are with them.” Then Elisha prayed and said, “O LORD, please open his eyes that he may see.” So the LORD opened the eyes of the young man, and he saw, and behold, the mountain was full of horses and chariots of fire all around Elisha. 2 Kings 6:15-17 (NIV)

    This passage illustrates how differently we see situations when we look through the eyes of courageous faith rather than through the lens of our natural fear. Elisha looked to God for deliverance, not his own strength, wisdom, or goodness. 

    Maybe there’s a situation in your life where fear is the natural response. A financial difficulty, divorce, or diagnosis that has your heart beating double time as your eyes scan the what-ifs. But what if you choose faith over fear? Because when you look to God, you’ll find He’s been looking out for you all along.

    Photo by Daniel Sarmiento on Pexels.com

  • The Fight for One Human Soul

    I spent most of this month in southern Africa, one of my favorite places in the world. We spent time in Zambia and South Africa, but I really want to focus on the first week of our trip, the part in rural Zambia. One thing that is hard to wrap your head around until you go is how very hard it is to get there, how long it takes, and how determined you must be to reach your destination. 

    We left on Sunday and travelled every day to reach our destination on Thursday. First, large planes carried us across the Atlantic and the Equator, down the full length of the African continent. We landed in Johannesburg, South Africa, on Monday evening. Tuesday morning, we boarded a smaller plane for Livingstone, Zambia. There, we picked up 4-wheel drive trucks with rooftop tents for the next stage of the journey, an 8-hour drive to the town of Mongu in the Western Province. On Wednesday, we left at dawn on the roughest road I’ve ever seen, dodging oxcarts, pedestrians, bicycles laden with people and produce, and potholes that could swallow the entire truck. On Shesheke Road, there are no lanes, and often the best path is the one in the dirt beside the road. By late afternoon, covered in dust and bruised from the bumping, we arrived at the Zambia project base and met the local team that would be going out to the bush with us in the morning. We refueled the trucks, although it took four tries to find a fuel pump that wasn’t out of diesel. Thursday morning, we headed back out, turning off the road after about an hour to drive the tracks in the deep sand for several hours before reaching the village of Mundimunene, where our campsite had been prepared. 

    Why do I tell you all this? Because these people had never heard the Gospel. As hard as it is to believe in our world of instant connectivity and information at our fingertips, this was a truly unreached village. It was hard to get to. It was remote. We slept in tents, cooked on fires, and pooped in a long drop while we were there. And there was something about it that felt holy. The struggle of being there brought home the weight of the eternity of each soul we would interact with. 

    The people of Mundimunene were beautiful. They dug toilets for us. They cleared trees. They welcomed us, strangers from far away, to their village. Beautiful souls. And oppressed. Oppressed by witchcraft and demonic activity. By physical pain with a spiritual root. By the prince of this world. 

    While we were there, we didn’t just speak. We listened. Listened as they told their stories. The school shut down when the teachers fled from the demonic activity. The headaches that the witch doctor’s charms couldn’t take away. Stories of people who needed to hear the Good News.

    And in that place, I saw a whole different set of weapons that Satan employs. We are so used to seeing him sneak his way in. On our screens, disguised as entertainment. In our political discourse, distracting from things that really matter. But not overtly. He never calls his own name out in our culture. He uses soft words, seeking to appear as an angel of light (2 Cor. 11:14). But there in Mundimunene and the surrounding areas, he shouts. He has no problem with being seen. And in both places, the result is the same: brokenness and bondage. 

    You see, in the fight for the human soul, Satan uses many tactics. He charms and threatens, distracts and assaults, sneaks and swaggers. And God’s response to every tactic is the same.

    Incarnation.

    Jesus didn’t send someone else. He came for us. And now He comes through us. The Body of Christ incarnates the presence of Jesus everywhere that we go. And for the past 2,000 years, incarnation has been God’s weapon in the fight for each soul. He goes through us to our world. To the homeless, the orphan, the addict, the hopeless. He goes through us to a village that takes 5 days to get to so that He can contend with Satan for each soul. 

    And there is nothing in our lives that matters more. Being a part of the fight for one soul is the most important thing we will ever do. Today I challenge you: you may not be in a remote village, but you are surrounded by people who need incarnation. Be Jesus to your family, your coworkers, the cashier at the store, and the waitress at the restaurant. Be Jesus to a foster child, a neighbor, a family in need. The fight for one human soul, the incarnation of Christ through us to those around us, is the most valuable way to spend your life.

  • The God Who Sees Me

    Why do you complain, Jacob?

        Why do you say, Israel,

    “My way is hidden from the Lord;

        my cause is disregarded by my God”?

    Do you not know?

        Have you not heard?

    The Lord is the everlasting God,

        the Creator of the ends of the earth.

    He will not grow tired or weary,

        and his understanding no one can fathom.

    Isaiah 40:27-28

    I think we all have times when we feel like God is not watching, or like our cause has been overlooked by him. This is especially true in the middle of the hardest days. There are times when we look and think that surely, if God were good, if He were trustworthy, He would not overlook this need I have. He would move on my behalf in this situation; he would… whatever that is for you. In the moment, our needs can seem incredibly urgent. But in these verses we find reassurance that God is not tired, he’s not taking a break, he’s not ignoring our needs or our causes. The Lord is everlasting, meaning he has no end and no beginning. That is hugely different from anything I have experienced as a human; my finite little brain isn’t even sure how to process that. But one thing I know is that if I can’t understand the concept that God exists in, I surely can’t understand his action or inaction well enough to judge it.

    Surely Hagar felt abandoned by God when she was forced to flee from Sarah. As a slave, Hagar had no rights, and she was first forced by Sarah to sleep with Abraham in the hope of producing a son for him, then mistreated by Sarah because she got pregnant, even though it was Sarah’s plan. Hagar fled into the wilderness, and as she rested, the Lord spoke to her. Genesis 16 tells us that she called the place Be’er Lahai Roi, the “Well of the God Who Sees Me.” God didn’t change her situation. In fact, He sent her back to Sarah with the instruction to submit to her. But Hagar knew she was seen, and knowing that made a difference to her.

    Maybe we don’t understand why God doesn’t change our circumstances right now, but if we remember that He sees us, we can find peace in the knowledge that He knows what He’s doing. Finding peace in God during hard times isn’t something that happens naturally. It’s a choice we make when we remember that He is so much bigger and more active in our lives than we usually give Him credit for. Today, make a decision to purposefully rest in knowing that God is at work in your life right now, even if you can’t see it.

  • Ordinary Lives, Extraordinary Purpose: Joseph

    A true unsung hero of the Biblical narrative is Joseph of Nazareth. As Jesus’ adoptive father, think about the effect this man had on the salvation story! Yet he is often, in our nativity scenes, indistinguishable from the shepherds.

    Having raised three children who aren’t biologically mine, I understand the depth of love and care he must have had for Jesus as He grew up. But I wonder if he always felt a little bit outside of the miracle, just a little less important to the awe-inspiring beauty of the incarnation story.

    Yet nothing could be further from the truth. Studies repeatedly show that boys thrive with a strong father figure and struggle without one. Fully boy, just as He was later fully man, surely Jesus needed that fatherly love, strength, and guidance. Also, children’s first glimpse of the fatherhood of God is provided by that role model. So the father role, filled by Joseph, was the young Jesus’ earliest introduction to the character of His Heavenly Father. Joseph was given a matchless responsibility; think about God, giving the responsibility of raising His own Son to a mere man!

    Yet outside of the story of Jesus’ birth, Joseph is barely mentioned. He features only in one other Biblical story: when Jesus was twelve and was lost at the Temple in Jerusalem for three days during Passover. It seems significant to me that, as a twelve-year-old, Jesus was secure enough in his earthly father’s affection for Him that He could look His parents in the face and remind them that God was also His Father. And the Bible describes their response as confusion, not offense. After this, He went home and continued obeying and honoring both of them.

    Joseph plays a side-character role in the Biblical narrative of Jesus’ childhood, which centers primarily on Mary and Jesus, but the impact of his quiet, faithful, God-honoring life cannot be overstated.

  • Ordinary Lives, Extraordinary Purpose: Boaz

    I am a self-proclaimed adventurer. As an Enneagram 7, I thrive on novelty and experiences. Boredom is actually frightening and a little painful. Unsurprisingly, then, I love stories of people who live extraordinary lives for God: Esther, who became queen; Sampson, who saved Israel; David, the shepherd king; and Paul, spending his life fighting opposition to spread the Gospel throughout the world. These stories match my concept of what it looks like to live a meaningful life. I love the idea of seeing and knowing the difference my life makes, being all in for Jesus in a way that is passionate and obvious. 

    But the truth about a life like that is I don’t just want it for Jesus. I also want it for myself. I love the idea of a visibly meaningful life, of a globetrotting, adventurous Jesus journey. But what if that’s not the story God writes for me? Can I sit in the mundane when the story He writes is a quiet one, where the main character truly is Jesus instead of me? This is when 1 Corinthians 1:27-29 hits close to home: “Isn’t it obvious that God deliberately chose men and women that the culture overlooks and exploits and abuses, chose these ‘nobodies’ to expose the hollow pretensions of the ‘somebodies’? That makes it quite clear that none of you can get by with blowing your own horn before God.” (MSG)

    That’s the inspiration behind this series. It’s a series about those whose lives looked quiet and maybe even small, but mattered eternally in a way they never anticipated. It’s a series of lives that aren’t full of adventure, but they followed God and made an immense impact. 

    The first life I want to explore is Boaz. We don’t get a lot of details on his early life, or really even on his later life. He is a side character in the Book of Ruth, yet he is presented as foreshadowing Christ as the kinsman-redeemer. When Boaz shows up at the beginning of chapter 2, all we know about him is that he’s a wealthy relative of Ruth’s late father-in-law, Elimelech. We can only guess how he made it through the drought and ensuing famine, but it appears that he stuck it out in Bethlehem. Elimelech had taken his family away to Moab, where the drought was not as severe. Scholars have long interpreted Elimelech’s choice as a lack of faith in God and His promised provision for Israel. It’s a safe bet, then, to interpret Boaz’s decision to stay as faith in contrast with Elimelech’s doubt. 

    This was all happening during the time of the Judges, likely when Eli was the high priest and judge of Israel at Shiloh. The time of the judges was a dark time for Israel, and faithfulness to God was the exception, rather than the norm. Judges 17:6 and 21:25 both have this to say: “Everyone did what was right in his own eyes.” A sad indictment of a people who were meant to belong to the Lord! It’s also a familiar idea for anyone in Western Culture right now, when ideas like “you do you” and “whatever makes you happy” have seeped even into church culture, a modern variant of the idea of everyone doing right in their own eyes.

    Into this mess steps Boaz. His first stated words are a greeting in the name of the Lord (Ruth 2:4). He shows his faithfulness to God throughout the story. Allowing gleaners in his field was following Mosaic law, and a practice that we can assume not all landowners kept in a time when everyone was doing whatever felt right to them. Stories even exist of landowners who sent their own slaves as “gleaners” in their fields. That way, they were fulfilling the legal requirement to allow gleaning while still keeping all the grain for their household. Boaz, however, continued to allow gleaners in his fields and to treat them generously. He showed generosity to Ruth long before he had any thought of marrying her. 

    As a God-honoring landowner, Boaz’s life would have been punctuated by regular trips to the tabernacle for sacrifices, and it would have followed the recurrent nature of the agricultural calendar. Neither of these rhythms is exciting or adventurous. We know he wasn’t a young man because he commends Ruth for her family loyalty when she asks him to be her kinsman-redeemer (Ruth 3:10). He has just lived his life in a steady, faithful fashion.

    Boaz was calm, steady, predictable, and unexciting. He was, in fact, everything I’ve never wanted to be. But in fulfilling the role of kinsman redeemer for Ruth and Naomi, he becomes an important figure in the Biblical narrative. Not only is he one of the clearest Old Testament pictures of Christ, but he also became one of Jesus’ biological ancestors. After Boaz and Ruth married, they had Obed. Obed was the father of King David, from whose line came Jesus. 

    God gives monumental significance to a life that looks like nothing special from the outside. Romans says it like this: “So here’s what I want you to do, God helping you: Take your everyday, ordinary life—your sleeping, eating, going-to-work, and walking-around life—and place it before God as an offering” (12:1 MSG). It doesn’t have to look like we are doing big things for God to be doing big things in and through us! 

    This is a phenomenal reminder for me, and I hope it resonates for you as well. Our daily life, the everyday things, rhythms that grow repetitive to the point of feeling redundant, these are things God uses for His glory, too. Let’s face the mundane with a sense of awe that even in those moments, God is at work doing something bigger than we can see or imagine.

  • Free to Be Family

    Family is a strong emotional word. That’s true whether the emotions you experience when you hear it are positive or negative. That’s because we all spent our formative years in one, and either it was great or it was bad. Shakespeare’s line, “He is not worthy of the honeycomb who shuns the hive because the bees have stings,” could surely apply to living in family. Sometimes the sweetness outnumbers the stings, and sometimes…well, let’s just say stings can be plentiful in family life.

    Either way, family was God’s idea, not only in our physical households but also in the house of God. God repeatedly uses family imagery to describe our relationship not only with Him, but also with each other.

    Consequently, you are no longer foreigners and strangers, but fellow citizens with God’s people and also members of his household. Ephesians 2:19 NIV

    Stings can be plentiful in church life, too. And if we aren’t careful, we can shun the sweetness of the body of Christ and fall into the prison of isolation because we’ve experienced too many stings from our spiritual family. But God designed us to live in the freedom of community with Him and each other.

    The Spirit you received does not make you slaves, so that you live in fear again; rather, the Spirit you received brought about your adoption to sonship. Romans 8:14 NIV

    If we are going to live in community in the family of God, we need a sense of calling. We’re called to build His kingdom, do His will, fulfill the great commission. And we’re called to do it together.

    I therefore, a prisoner for the Lord, urge you to walk in a manner worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, eager to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace. Ephesians 4:1-3 ESV

    We are called to walk together, to bear with each other, and to maintain unity. To accomplish this, we not only need to remember we’re called to it, but we also need to be ready to be patient. This is true in our physical families and in the family of Christ. 

    And we urge you, brothers and sisters, warn those who are idle and disruptive, encourage the disheartened, help the weak, be patient with everyone. 1 Thessalonians 5:14 NIV

    Everywhere we try to live in community with others, whether it’s in our homes or our churches, we will find people who need our patience. The truth is that we will often need theirs too. Family thrives when those in the community are patient. Patience, according to Ephesians 4, comes with humility. Proud people can rarely have patience with others, but humble people are able to find a space in their hearts for patience, no matter what the other person needs from them. 

    Above all, keep loving one another earnestly, since love covers a multitude of sins. 1 Peter 4:8 ESV

    Loving each other will enable us to find grace and compassion for each other. Determinedly putting ourselves first will wreck the family that God puts us into. How many times have you heard of a family split apart by the selfishness of someone in it? In whatever way that selfishness manifests, it destroys the love members have for each other. 

    The first known church split in history, the Great Schism, occurred in 1054. A few of the hotly disputed topics that brought about this break in the family of Christ were whether or not unleavened bread should be used in communion, unmarried clergy, and the wording of the Nicene Creed. Cerulius, leader of the church of Constantinople, wrote the Pope a strongly worded letter. Pope Leo sent back a letter saying that any churches that didn’t listen to him were “synagogues of Satan.” It escalated from there, with excommunications on both sides and the formation of Eastern Orthodox and Catholic as the two distinct churches, with each believing the other to be heretics. 

    Each of these church leaders, and likely many of those surrounding them, was stuck in pride and selfishness. The love they should have had for each other as brothers in Christ was replaced by a desire to be vindicated, to be right, to be important. It sounds silly, but it happens on a smaller scale in every church that splits, in every couple that divorces, in every family that feuds over a loved one’s grave. 

    Each of those occurrences has this in common: people end up in a prison of resentment and isolation. God’s call to humility, patience, and love frees us from this quagmire. 

    Put on then, as God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, compassionate hearts, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience, bearing with one another and, if one has a complaint against another, forgiving each other; as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive. And above all these put on love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony. Colossians 3:12-14 ESV

    Being a part of the family of Christ asks of us that we put away our petty perspectives and positions, that we choose not to be offended, that we look out for the good of others instead of our own. 

    A beautiful story that illustrates this is the story of the 2000 Olympics trials for Taekwondo. Kay Poe was ranked first in the world and was widely expected not just to make the team, but also to win the gold in Sydney. She dislocated her knee, one fight before the final one that would secure her spot on the team. Her final trials match was supposed to be against her lifelong friend, Ester Kim. Friends since elementary school, they had come up through the ranks of their sport together, but Kay was undeniably the better athlete. When the matchup was announced, Ester had no hesitation. She forfeited the match, although she would have easily won against her injured friend. She would have secured her spot on the Olympic team. But for her, it was an easy decision. Kay was more likely to come home with the gold. Kay was the right person for the team. Not only that, Kay was her best friend. Her loyalty, both to her friend and the Olympic team, was more important to her than securing her own place.

    Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others. Philippians 2:4 ESV

    How would the church look different if we each used this verse as our reference? Would it look more like a family? If each of us committed to living this way, the sweetness of the family of Christ would surely outweigh the stings! 

    Ask God today for direction on how you can walk in love, humility, compassion, and gentleness in your community. And if you’ve walked away from community into a place of isolation as a result of past hurts, commit to forgiveness today. Find the family God has for you and watch how He moves.

  • Part 2: The Stone Rolled and Death Disempowered

    If you’ve read part 1 of this series, you know that earthquakes aren’t commonly mentioned in the Bible. If you haven’t, I’ll put the link to that here. We are looking at a weekend bookended by earthquakes, the weekend that Christ was crucified. The first was when He conquered Sin, and the Earth shook at the death of the Son of God and the rewriting of the covenant of relationship between God and humanity. 

    But to defeat sin, the enemy that has conquered every other human since the Garden of Eden, He had to submit Himself to the other enemy, Death. Death is perhaps the only foe humans acknowledge as ubiquitous. From the Grim Reaper of the Middle Ages to the more modern adage, “Only two things are sure in life: death and taxes,” people have spoken freely of Death as coming for all of us. 

    Without Christ, all humans live in an uncomfortable dichotomy brought on by the fall in the Garden: we long for the eternal while seeing death as our final destination. The Psalms are full of a longing for God to extend the psalmist’s life based on his inability to praise God after death (Psalm 6:5, 88:10-12, 115:17). Add to this Solomon’s declaration that God has put eternity into the hearts of man (Ecclesiastes 3:11), and you have a recipe for Death as the enemy that cuts us off from the thing we all deeply believe we were made for: eternity. 

    Jesus could conquer Death by living forever, but only by dying could He conquer Sin. So in a strategic masterstroke, He allowed himself to be captured by Death. He knew He would not stay dead, and He explicitly said this to His disciples (Matthew 16:21, 17:22-23, 20:18-19). When we get to Matthew 28, He makes good on His promise. “There was a violent earthquake, for an angel of the Lord came down from heaven and, going to the tomb, rolled back the stone and sat on it” (v. 2). The Greek wording of this verse implies a far greater earthquake than the crucifixion earthquake. While the crucifixion earthquake is described as the ground shaking and rocks breaking, Sunday’s earthquake is declared to be “megas seismos,” a great shaking. 

    This second, greater earthquake denotes that this second defeat is more meaningful even than the first. According to 1 Corinthians 15:26, “the last enemy to be destroyed is death.” This statement is both looking back at Christ’s death and resurrection and an eschatological prophecy looking forward to Christ’s final victory at Armageddon. First, Christ defeated death at His own grave, then He ultimately defeats death for all of us at the end of time. 

    1 Corinthians 15 is a dissertation on Christ’s resurrection and what it means for all believers. Death, Paul explains, is not final for any believer (v. 12-14). The proof of this is Christ’s resurrection, and His resurrection is only the beginning (v. 20). Jesus broke death’s finality by raising Himself from the dead, and “in Christ all will be made alive” (v. 22). Not only that, we are promised that we will have bodies when we are raised; we won’t be formless or ethereal ghosts (v. 35-44). So while our physical bodies still die, we will receive new, uncorruptible bodies at the resurrection (v. 53). Then Paul quotes two Old Testament prophets in unparalleled triumph: “When the perishable has been clothed with the imperishable, and the mortal with immortality, then the saying that is written will come true: ‘Death has been swallowed up in victory.’ [Isaiah 25:8] ‘Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?’ [Hosea 13:14]” (v. 54-55). He ties it all together when he answers his own question. “The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God! He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.” (v. 56-57)

    Death only had power over humanity because of our sin, and when Jesus conquered sin, He broke the power of Death as well. The disempowerment of death is not yet complete. We still experience it here and now, but we can rest in the assurance that death is no longer final for any believer in Christ. Those who have died in Christ have, Paul says, merely fallen asleep until the end of time, when they will be resurrected together with those who are alive. This, according to Paul, should inform how we grieve the deaths of those we love. “Brothers and sisters, we do not want you to be uninformed about those who sleep in death, so that you do not grieve like the rest of mankind, who have no hope.” (1 Thessalonians 4:13) 

    Death, which once was final and resulted in separation from God, has been defeated. It’s now a victorious transition into God’s presence, waiting for the fullness of time, when all who believe will be together again, and death will be destroyed once and for all. Revelations 20:14 says that Death itself will be thrown into the lake of fire. This final defeat of Death sets the stage for a victorious revelation of the new Heaven and Earth in Revelation 21:

    Then I saw “a new heaven and a new earth,” for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and there was no longer any sea. I saw the Holy City, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride beautifully dressed for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Look! God’s dwelling place is now among the people, and he will dwell with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. ‘He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.” He who was seated on the throne said, “I am making everything new!” (Revelation 21:1-5)

    In those words lies our hope as believers in Jesus’ victory over our two greatest enemies, sin and death. He has risen, and He is making everything new!

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  • Two Earthquakes 

    Part 1 – Torn Curtains and Sin’s Defeat

    Vintage lace curtains with floral embroidery and a large central tear

    Before that moment, there were sacrifices and separation; after that moment, there was atonement and communion. No wonder the Earth shook! 

    Angela Lewis

    Of the over 600 stories in the Bible, no more than a dozen earthquakes are recorded. Actually, there are more predictions and prophecies of end-times earthquakes than there are stories of them happening in real time. Since we know from the archaeological record that there were more earthquakes than those recorded in the Bible, it makes sense that each recorded tremor was significant in some way.  

    However, there is a weekend in the Gospels bookended by two earthquakes. Maybe you’ve guessed it: the weekend Christ was crucified. Two earthquakes, two seismic shifts in the earth itself, two of man’s greatest foes defeated, all in a short, three-day span. Let’s look at the Biblical record to see the earth-shaking significance of God’s plan to redeem humanity.

    The first of these two earthquakes came around 3 pm on Friday. Matthew 27:50-51 says this: “Then Jesus cried out with a loud voice again and died. Suddenly, the curtain in the sanctuary was torn in two from top to bottom, the earth shook, rocks were split open.” Sedimentary records from the Dead Sea record an earthquake of about 6.0 magnitude in Jerusalem in 33 A.D., and archaeologists have uncovered damaged pivots from the Temple doors corresponding to that date.

    The significance of the damage to the Temple at the crucifixion can’t be overstated. When Jesus died, He conquered sin (Romans 6:10, John 1:29, 1 Corinthians 15:55-57) for us. The separation from God that began in the Garden of Eden ended. Romans 3 makes it clear that Jesus defeated one of Satan’s best weapons that day. “For there is no distinction: for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and are justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus, whom God put forward as a propitiation by his blood, to be received by faith” (v. 22-25). In Genesis 3, we see sin enter the world for the first time, and we see the separation that’s put in place between God and humans. After they sinned, Adam and Eve were no longer welcome to walk in the garden with God. Instead, they were doomed to live outside of God’s company in the wilderness, sacrificing animals’ blood for atonement of their sins (Genesis 3:21, 4:4). 

    This separation from God, where God speaking to people is the exception rather than the rule, tracks all the way through Genesis, from the flood and the tower of Babel to the story of Abraham being called out from the city of Ur. Eventually, we see God call an entire people, Abraham’s descendants, out of Egypt and set up a system for them to live in proximity to him. They were still not in communion, but closer than people had been to God since the Garden of Eden. This system was the daily sacrifices in the tabernacle (later replaced by the Temple), which housed the Ark of the Covenant, a visual representation of the presence of God. The Bible says God lived there. His manifest presence stayed in the Holy of Holies, where the mercy seat in the middle of the Ark served as His throne. And the Israelites were allowed close to the presence of God there; God was separated only by a heavy curtain from the Holy Place where the priests sacrificed for the sins of the people. Mankind, once banished from God’s presence, was now only an embroidered piece of linen away from the presence of God.

    Throughout the Old Testament, the people of God were allowed proximity to God when they came with sacrifices, sacrifices whose blood provided atonement for the people‘s sin problem. All the way back in Genesis 3, the separation between God and humanity was born out of sin. The curtain that hung between God and his people was for their protection, because sin can’t enter the presence of a holy God without consequence (Romans 6:23). Jesus came and took our sins into his body (1 Peter 2:24), and with our sins in Him, he died. He canceled all sin in that way and became the last sacrifice necessary. 

    The entire system of God’s relation to mankind was remade in that moment. Before that moment, there were sacrifices and separation; after that moment, there was atonement and communion. No wonder the Earth shook! 

    What a powerful moment in human history, the moment that we became able to walk into God’s presence once more. Matthew tells us that when the Earth shook, the curtain in the temple, the one that separated the presence of God from the people, was ripped in half from top to bottom. The first earthquake marks Jesus overcoming the first of our sworn enemies: sin. The sin that had kept humans enslaved and separated from God for millennia was crushed that day by our Savior’s sacrifice.

    Matthew tells us that when the Roman soldiers saw that an earthquake coincided with His death, they were frightened. “When the centurion and those guarding Jesus with him saw the earthquake and the other things that were taking place, they were terrified and said, ‘This man certainly was the Son of God!’” (Matthew 27:54). They were afraid of the judgment of God for crucifying His Son, but this earthquake wasn’t about judgment. This was Jesus defeating the sins of all humanity with one blow. One of Satan’s favorite weapons was disarmed that day, and the earthquake served as notice to hell’s minions and to all humanity that sin could no longer keep God’s people separated from Him. He used the earthquake to tear the curtain that symbolized our separation, just as He was indeed setting us free to come boldly before Him.

    But hell still had a weapon. It was the one deployed against Jesus, actually. Death remained undefeated that Friday. But don’t worry, that is what part two is for…

  • A Bad Good Friday?

    Twenty-six years ago, I had a very bad Good Friday. I was 16 weeks pregnant and so excited to be a mom. On that Friday morning in 2000, I woke up and realized I had started bleeding. After a call to the doctor, I headed out for the Emergency Room. On the drive there, I couldn’t do anything but pray.

    But when I got there, they confirmed my worst fear. There was no heartbeat, and my hormone levels were dropping, confirming that my body was, in fact, miscarrying my baby. To say we were devastated would be an understatement. 

    On the way home from the hospital, I only remember saying one thing: “Jesus had a really bad Good Friday once, too.” And while the sorrow and pain I felt over the loss of my child can’t really be compared to the pain and grief of Christ on the cross, it was such an encouragement to me to remember that Jesus was “a man of sorrows, acquainted with grief.” (Isaiah 53:3) 

    Every year on Good Friday, as I reflect on Christ on the cross, I am amazed. Hebrews 12:2 says this, “looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God.” (ESV) He looked past the immediate suffering, shame, and grief of the cross. And on the other side, He saw joy.

    What joy did He see? He saw us! He saw each of us, adopted into His family through His own sacrifice. (Romans 8:15) Jesus didn’t just see the immediate suffering of the cross; He saw into the future, where each of us can accept His sacrifice and become part of His family. 

    I couldn’t see into the future that day, twenty-six years ago. I couldn’t see the children I would go on to adopt or the joy they would bring to my heart and life. But if I had been able to see the joy ahead of me, I wouldn’t have learned to trust God more fully, as I certainly did during that season.

    You may be facing horrible circumstances this Easter season. You may be having a very bad Good Friday today. If so, I challenge you to look to Jesus, our example of endurance. And be encouraged–as Jesus knew, and as I have learned, there is still joy ahead!

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