When you need more energy…
Yesterday afternoon I was so exhausted, but instead of taking a nap, I found myself cleaning up chicken poop. I was reminded of this…
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It all began with that ridiculous poop post.
I can’t pass a piece of trash on the sidewalk without remembering this:
A man was walking along the sidewalk just as a flashy sports car was pulling up at a traffic light. The man in the car finished his soda and tossed the empty can out the window into the ditch. The man walking, a Christian, continued across the street and thought to himself, “What kind of jerk throws his pop can out of the window? That’s what sin does!” Immediately he sensed God’s voiced prodding heart: “Sin throws out the pop can, but grace stoops down and picks it up.”
God had brought this story along my path when I’d refused to pick up the poop. Someone else’s dog poop, mind you. But God bent me low with those words, Grace Picks Up The Poop, and He taught me to stoop down more often than before.
But, really? Do I have to always be the ridiculous person picking up trash?
This time, the lesson was different. I was out for a run. My legs burned, every step was a chore, but I’d finally reached the long downhill leg down Main Street. Yes! Finally! I cruised down the hill running fast and, if I can be so honest, had just passed two other runners and was feeling pretty good about myself.
Then I caught sight of it–the crumpled Dorito bag.
I ignored it. I’m running! It’s not like I have a bag to put the trash in. I kept running.
The conscience nagged. I kept fighting, farther and farther down the hill I went. This is ridiculous. It’s a little Dorito bag. I am not stopping, losing all momentum, and running back UP the hill to get the stupid bag. Besides, those people I passed will think I’m crazy. Isn’t it someone ELSE’s turn to pick up some trash, for crying out loud? I kept running, justifying. But God, I need to save my energy. I’m so tired and if I turn around and run all the way back up that hill to pick up the trash, I’ll be so tired.
But as I kept running, I felt more tired than ever and it struck me:
When I disobey I’m drained. When I run away, I’m running away … from Him. His love. His power.
HIS energy.
Our lives are made up of a million little choices. We’re always walking–or running–to or away from God. The most trivial–trash–turned my heart around.
I stopped.
And as I turned around, eyes spotting the tiny Dorito bag up the hill, I began to run and to my surprise you know what I found?
A burst of energy.
My legs felt lighter, my heart felt freer, I sprinted up that hill with the wind (Spirit?) at my back, ignored the funny looks and bent down low…
crumpling the piece of trash–and pride–in my hand.
It feels so good to obey.
And as I ran back down that hill, the buzz of holy energy lifted my feet, my heart, my spirit.
See, energy doesn’t come from conserving it…
from holding back…
from putting your needs first.
Energy comes from obeying.
Why? Because it’s not that we need MORE energy …
It’s that we need HIS energy.
His energy is the supernatural strength and power that is for us today, that we can only tap into through one simple secret:
Obedience.
In the small stuff. The ordinary things. The mundane moments.
Only the Holy Spirit can speak the specifics to you today. But know this:
Obedience unleashes His energy in us, the energy we so desperately need today.
“…I toil, struggling with all His energy that He powerfully works within me.” Colossians 1:29
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{This tired mama needed this reminder yesterday! Praying His powerful energy for you as we begin our week. Thanks for reading.}
As you lead your chicks through danger today…
We were sitting outside Starbucks when we saw them–right there in the busy parking lot of a shopping center: A mama duck and her 12 teeny ducklings. Oh! So precious. I crept near to take a picture so I could show my daughter, who adores any baby fowl.
I sat back down, but a moment later that feathered mama had me on my feet again.
She proceeded to begin crossing the highway. This is an extremely busy intersection with SIX lanes of traffic, mind you. But boldly she stepped down off the sidewalk into the first lane, her brood of unquestioning babes trailing along behind her. Oh no! I almost couldn’t watch. They were so incredibly tiny and helpless, their little downy heads (no helmets!) and soft cheep cheep chirping (no voices!). And somehow the fact that they don’t have arms seemed to make them all the more vulnerable (as if, at 4-inches tall, they could hold up an arm and effectively stop traffic).
But there they went, without voices or arms (or helmets!) and weighing a few ounces at most, they bravely followed that mama onto the asphalt, 1-ton trucks barreling by, oblivious drivers speeding through yellow lights, everyone in a hurry.
But this mama duck wasn’t in a hurry. She was the picture of confidence as she navigated around one stopped car (that had, thankfully, seen them coming) and paused, perhaps to consider her route. The little chicks paused, huddled in close to mama, waiting patiently for her next move.
Across she went.
Just when I thought I couldn’t stand it anymore, and was about to do the crazy-lady thing and go run out onto the highway and try to stop traffic, a man mercifully stopped his car to block several lanes, clicked his flashers, hopped out, and began flagging down cars to clear the way.
A crowd had gathered by now, watching this fearless mama lead her chicks safely home.
See, on the other side of that dangerous intersection, down the grassy knoll, is the river. The beautiful, serene, glorious river. Where ducks belong. I don’t know exactly how she ended up in the parking lot, but I do know that she knew where she had to go and was brave enough to take her littles there.
And she made it. I’m not even an animal-lover, but I have to admit a little water in my eyes as I finally saw the whole family safely on the other side.
Probably because I recognize that journey. I’m on it. You probably are too.
This world is nuts. Absolutely nuts. Between pesticides, pedophiles, and ISIS we have enough to make us stark raving mad with fear.
This world is not our home.
There is a home, and we lead our children through many dangers, toils, and snares, to follow Christ through this life, without fear, and trust Him to lead us safely home. We train them to follow us, we teach them to be brave, we warn them of the dangers but we still must go on. And the man Jesus Christ gives His life to stand in traffic, protect us from evil, and lead us safely through to the other side.
Let’s not fear. Let’s be brave mamas (and dadas and grandparents!) and lead our littles through the danger with faith.
A glorious home awaits us on the other side.
Happy Friday! Have a blessed weekend, and thanks for reading.}
Why authority isn’t bossy and faith isn’t proud…
“Who am I to ask God for such a thing?”
We sat here at the counter in my kitchen, her contemplating cancer as she sipped coffee, waiting for the test results to come back.
I could understand her sentiments, who of us hasn’t thought this at one time or another? Who am I? Why on earth should we dare to make such bold requests?
And so we don’t. We embrace “humility” and slump our shoulders a little more, making our best mopey face and offering up a limp “whatever You will” prayer.
Let me just say this: I’m sure glad my kids don’t act like that.
But I get why we do. We’ve seen entitlement running rampant in our day, and we certainly don’t want to take that approach. Or perhaps we’ve even seen those who (loudly) tout that we must walk in AUTHORITY! We hear them shouting about naming and claiming, we hear them yelling at sickness or commanding God to do things and we wonder if authority really has to be that bossy.
I don’t think authority is very bossy at all.
The last few months I’ve been chewing on this: authority, humility, and faith.
Jesus clearly gives authority to His disciples to heal the sick, raise the dead, cleanse lepers, cast out demons (Matt. 10:6). If we have been given authority over these things, we do need to walk in this authority.
But how? By being bossy? Entitled? I believe we receive it by faith. The authority isn’t ours, it’s Christ’s. We’re just running errands for Jesus. The only real way to access that authority is to walk in humility, and that humility is the root of real faith.
Let me illustrate: In Matthew 8, the Centurion comes to Jesus to seek healing for his servant. Up to this point, Jesus has only healed directly, by laying hands on someone, or speaking directly to them. But the Centurion’s faith is crazy-faith, he says that Jesus doesn’t even have to come to his house, He can just say the word and he knows that his servant will be healed.
He believes Jesus for an unprecedented miracle.
His faith is so crazy He believes for something He’s never seen, something He’s never even heard of, something that’s never been done.
Wowzers! That’s faith. The Luke 7 version of the story tells us Jesus marveled at this man’s faith. Even Jesus was amazed! And notice what’s at the root of this crazy faith? Humility.
“Lord, I am not worthy to have you come under my roof, but only say the word and my servant will be healed.” (Matt. 8:8)
His faith grew in proportion with His humility. The smaller his ego the greater his faith.
This man goes on to say he understands authority–he has people under him and he too is a man under authority. In other words, “I get authority. I get what it’s like to be under authority and I get what it’s like to have authority. But more than that I get that YOU ARE the authority, and you can just say the word and my servant will be healed.”
This guy gets it: Authority, humility, and faith.
The Canaanite woman demonstrates the same thing in Matthew 15. When Jesus rebuffs her to test her faith, it’s her humility that gives great faith and access into the authority of Jesus. She’s willing to call herself a dog, and recognizes that her bold request is but a “crumb” in comparison to the riches at the right hand of God in Jesus Christ. Her daughter is instantly healed and Jesus marvels again,
“Oh woman, great is your faith!”
Oh how I long to hear Jesus say that to me!
Are we really afraid of offending Jesus with our too-big requests?
Do we really think our prayers are too big?
I’d venture to say, more often than not: They are too small. Jesus NEVER responds to someone, “Whoa! That’s a big request. Can you tone it down a little?” Of course he kindly rebuffs James and John when they want to sit at his right hand and left, but not because their request was too big, but because it was amiss. It was pride-based and rooted in self.
There is always the danger of asking amiss, but never a danger of asking too much.
And so we must continually come back to the Word of God to see His clearly-revealed will, to line our requests up with His, as best as we know how.
So, over coffee, in my kitchen, we did just that. Like little children, we bowed and asked our Father to just “say the word” and declare a completely clean bill of health.
And He did.
Hallelujah.
{I pray you have fresh faith to ask… Thanks for reading.}
ISIS, healing, and what Jesus promises us
This just in: More martyrs. More headlines and tweets on ISIS.
Christian, this world is not your friend. Yes? My world is so removed from this world. I was probably cleaning up chicken poop while these faithful brothers were being killed for their faith. I search the Scriptures some more, asking God to help me reconcile these startlingly dissimilar pictures in my mind. A friend just relayed the story of a miraculous healing of a man in Africa, who had been lame. Now he walks. This man fully believed in Jesus Christ, the healer, and was completely healed.
And then these men are murdered for believing in this same Jesus Christ.
Life for one and death for the others? Why? It seems like it doesn’t make any sense.
But actually it does. The exact same sorts of stories are situated right next to each other in the gospels as well.
Reading the news recently has been startlingly similar to reading my Bible.
Matthew 14 is the prime example of this odd juxtaposition. In this one short chapter, we see Jesus’ dear friend and family member, John the Baptist, beheaded for his faith. Why didn’t Jesus come save the day? In fact, we know that John was imprisoned all the way back in Matthew 4:12. That’s TEN chapters where Jesus could have intervened and saved him from execution.
But He didn’t. Why?
Because Jesus was saving people. Through His preaching, through His proving (miraculous signs & wonders) and through this persecution He was displaying the Kingdom of God.
In the very same chapter, in the same breath as John’s martyrdom, we see Jesus miraculously feeding 5,000 people, see Him walking on water and empowering Peter to walk on water, see Him healing ALL who were sick. Even those who just touched his garment were all healed.
While they were being healed, John was being killed. Why?
We have been traveling this road together the past few months, seeking to better understand “suffering” from a biblical perspective. We tend to lump it all together as one, but Scripture actually makes some clear distinctions, and I think these are critical if we are to understand (at least a bit better) why we see Jesus allowing healing and killing in the same chapter.
Throughout the gospels we see this same progression:
PREACH & PROVE (signs) —-> PERSECUTION
See, you’d think that if you were healing people and casting out demons and preaching the way to eternal life, everyone would be happy. Not so. The preaching and the proving always led to persecution. Why?
SATAN!
Satan, people! Our enemy! Remember him? We forget that the whole world is under the sway of the evil one. We forget that this world is not our home. We forget the the world hates us, does not know us, is not our friend. Those who follow Jesus will rejoice at His miraculous power, but when the Word of God and the power of God are clearly displayed, the enemy is furious.
I believe that God is reviving His people to believe Him at His Word once again. I believe He is opening our eyes to His full power and salvation, His promises and glorious riches in Christ, and when we begin walking in the power of God and truly believing Him, do you know what will happen?
Persecution. And while Jesus has promised to be our Healer, Deliverer, Savior–Jesus doesn’t promise to save us from persecution.
In fact, He promises not to.
Jesus promises persecution. He promises He will heal us (including our bodies!) and deliver us, He will deliver us safely into the kingdom of heaven, but He also promises that it is through much suffering and persecution that we will enter that kingdom.
While we are all outraged by seeing ISIS kill Christians, I am more outraged by seeing CANCER kill Christians. Both are horrific, but I see one clearly promised in Scripture and the other clearly conquered in Scripture.
I might have lost a lot of you just now. Please, I plead with you to hear my heart: I’m not saying we cannot glorify God in death by cancer. I believe many faithful men and women have done just that. Persecution specifically displays the POWER of God in our lives. When those martyrs were singing God’s praises at the top of their lungs, just before being beheaded, they got the world’s attention.
I also want to clarify: This doesn’t mean we don’t pray against persecution. When Peter was imprisoned we see the church faithfully praying for him to be released. And he was. Miraculously. But in the same chapter James was martyred. And history tells us that Peter was eventually martyred as well.
I plead with you, followers of Jesus Christ, to go back to the Word of God and see clearly what Jesus did and taught. What did He promise? How have we strayed? Where have we listened more to popular opinion than the actual words of our Lord?
His salvation is more wonderful than we could ever imagine. And the reward for those blessed martyrs is more unimaginably glorious than we could ever fathom.
I have a feeling those dear Ethiopian brothers have no regrets right now. And we will honor them someday, in heaven, for their faithfulness to the name of Jesus.
Let’s honor them now by returning to Christ ourselves, and committing afresh to follow Him through the pages of Scripture and into our daily lives. Open up the gospels and meet this Jesus all over again. We will never regret calling Him our king.
{Thank you for reading.}