I have memories of my father when I was sick and weak as a child. In one memory he is coming into my room in the middle of the night. I had been feverish and prone to hallucinating. My parents had come to check on me. My temperature is 106 degrees. My mom is running cold bathwater. My dad is picking me up and carrying me to the tub. I am not happy. I have been nice and warm in a warm bed and I know what is coming. I’ve been through it before. They are going to plunge me into that cold tub in the middle of the night.
In the next memory I am at a big medical center. I am draped over my father’s shoulder, because I am too ill to walk. My father is carrying me into the elevator. Then we are going down a hall to the doctor’s office where I will most surely get a dreaded shot. “Are you there Dana?” my dad says as he walks. “Yes,” I answer. It feels like nothing for my father to take me in his arms and carry me. For as bad as I feel, that part feels… good.
When I was sick in the night, my father was willing to do what would upset and discomfort me in order to help me and bring that fever down. He knew I was in trouble. And deep inside I knew, my father was doing something… good. He was helping.
I am thinking now about our Heavenly Father and of how he keeps watch over our souls. In love God will break in at midnight, take our temperature, and act. He will discomfort us. Plunge us awake. This is part of his faithful hand. A hand we sometimes whine against, for we are prone to be ill and live for our own comfort, even if it kills us. Sometimes we misread our Heavenly Father’s love and that loving plunge into the cold, eye-opening tub.
As I look back I am so grateful for my father’s love and attention. I’m thankful for his faithful engagement in my life always, but especially when I was weak and helpless and in trouble.
One of my favorite scriptures when I am feeling up against it is “See, how like a father, I have carried you all this way?” (Deut. 1:31) God said this to his people when they were facing an arduous journey and enemies. The people felt weak and frightened. They had looked at the path ahead, had taken stock of themselves, and knew that they did not personally have what it would take to handle things. So God reminds them of how they had made it thus far. Maybe they thought they had been walking on their own two feet, but God, like a father, had carried them all the way. And so God reminds me today, that he has carried me, and that he will carry me still. Into the elevator. Down the hall. Forward. “Are you there Dana?” “Yes, Lord.”
Recently I was asked if I would lead a discussion session at our church’s ladies event. I was given the material beforehand and was preparing by answering the questions in it for myself. I was really enjoying the process. Until I came to a question about expectation. When I was asked what I expected God to do in the future, and to thank him in advance for what he would do, I froze. I felt like I was taking a test I had not studied for. Then before I knew it, thoughts that must have been deep in my heart, tumbled out, rapid fire, “I don’t know what God will do in the future. He does what he wants. I don’t know what he will do.” I just couldn’t put that down. I knew it was a bad answer.
I tried to think of what would be good to write and jotted down some things I hoped would happen, things I had prayed for. As I wrote them I felt little conviction and no wonderful sense of expectation. Then I sat there thinking, about my unwritten answer. It bothered me. A chink in my trust had been exposed.
It was very clear to me that God has been there for me in my past. And I was convinced God was in the present helping me moment by moment. But when I looked ahead, down the road, I was… nervous. I began to argue with myself. You expect things from your husband. You know he will show up for dinner, you expect it. You believe him when he says he will help. What about God? You are in a relationship with Him. There are things you should expect him to do… Next I felt like God had joined the argument. He was speaking to my heart, There are things you should expect me to do. Things I have told you in my word, promises I have made. You need to expect things from me. I knew that was true.
I had been living without any sense of holy expectation. And in that moment I felt the Lord granting me a little gift. The gift of expecting him to be there, in the future, to help with whatever I needed, to fulfill promises he has made.
“Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here; he has risen! Remember how he told you, while he was still with you in Galilee: ‘The Son of Man must be delivered over to the hand of sinners, be crucified and on the third day be raised again.” Luke 24: 5-7 NIV
When Mary went into the garden on resurrection morning, she was crying, carrying burial spices, and planning to attend to a dead body. She was not expecting Jesus to be alive. Until Jesus personal conversation with her she could not see or understand what was true, that Jesus had risen just as he said. She thought Jesus was dead, his body perhaps stolen. Jesus was alive. He had robbed death. Mary was viewing things under an old paradigm, or mindset. Have you ever done that?
I have. What is an old paradigm of mine, a fruitless way of seeing things that needs to go? Here is one. Expecting too much from myself and other people, and expecting nothing from God. Here is another, believing that it’s better and safer not to expect– believing that somehow not expecting saves me from disappointment and prepares me to better handle things. Wouldn’t it be better to believe and expect that Jesus will do what he says and that he will show up for us, on any day, for our good, no matter what? The cross proved that Jesus is faithful to show up on the hardest of days, to bear every hard thing on our behalf.
Mary Magdalene went to the disciples with the news: “I have seen the Lord.” John 20:18 NIV
Last week family came for a visit. They told me they were coming and when they would arrive. I believed them. I expected them. Then I acted on that expectation. I cleaned. I made beds. And as I did, I thought of Jesus words, “I go to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will return and take you to be with me”(John 14:2-3). I’ve read those words many times and heard them many times. And I have loved them. This time however, those words took on new meaning. Why? Because I believed them.
Oh Lord, Forgive me. I grow tired and weary and wonder if I will make it. You do not. I wonder if I will have what it takes to do your will, to be faithful whatever comes. But you, you cannot be unfaithful. You cannot be un-strong, you cannot be fickle or ungracious. You cannot fail to show up. You cannot fail to live up to your vows and promises. You will not cease to guide and provide. I know so little of your matchless character, because I have often projected onto you my own ways. Open my eyes to see your glory. Help me to see who you really are as declared in your Word. Lord, help me to trust in you with all my heart and to lean not on my own understanding (Prov. 3:5). From this day forward may I no longer wonder what will happen, but instead expect you to do what you say. Fill me with holy expectation so that I may reflect your true character to the world. Amen
While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no guest room available for them. Luke 2:6-7 NIV
God’s son is coming to earth and it would appear that God has not reserved him a room. No beautifully decorated nursery. No mention of a doctor or midwife. Why do Mary and Joseph seem to be scrambling to make do, pounding on doors? Why after years of prophecy and promises would God, who can arrange anything, have Jesus arrive so plainly, with most everyone sound asleep, and in their better beds?
I have been in the habit of thinking that things that “appear perfectly arranged” and “decorated” are a mark of God’s sovereignty, a sure set up for something special to happen, a sign God is present and working, or will show up. If I have small provisions, arrive in a plain space, find closed doors or am feeling left out or squeezed out, my first reaction is to think “God can’t possibly be in this.”
But the Christmas story would prove me wrong. Jesus coming, unnoticed by most, to a city of closed doors, that was sovereignty. No reserved room, no decorations, no warm welcome… these faith stretching circumstances were part of God’s sovereign plan. And how encouraging. Because that is life much of the time, filled with situations that don’t measure up in my mind.
Later, we see God’s wisdom peeking through. Later, we understand how this strange “back door” entrance was purposeful (lowly shepherds could approach) and protective (King Herod would kill any threat to his rule).
God knows exactly what he is doing.
If we can believe that God will show up in a manger, we will believe that he can show up in our meager hearts and at our humble gatherings.
Where are you feeling shut out? What appears to not be turning out? How might God be divinely positioning, and protecting, you? Will you trust his Sovereign plan?
“And so with barely a ripple of notice, God stepped into the warm lake of humanity, Without protocol and without pretension. Where you would have expected angels, there were only flies. Where you would have expected heads of state there were only donkeys, a few haltered cows, a nervous ball of sheep, a tethered camel, and a furtive scurry of curious barn mice.” -Ken Gire, Moments With the Savior
“Do not despise these small beginnings…” Zechariah 4:10 NLT
“Do not be afraid Zechariah, your prayer has been heard. Your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you are to call him John. He will be a joy and delight to you… he will go on before the Lord in the spirit and power of Elijah, to turn the hearts of the parents to their children and the disobedient to the wisdom of the righteous- to make ready a people prepared for the Lord.”
Zechariah asked the angel, “How can I be sure of this? I am an old man and my wife is well along in years.”
The angel said to him, “I am Gabriel. I stand in the presence of God, and have been sent to speak to you and tell you this good news. And now you will be silent and not able to speak until the day this happens, because you did not believe my words, which will come true at their appointed time.”
Luke: 1:13-14, 17-20 NIV
Before Jesus came, God sent a forerunner, John the Baptist. His parents were Zechariah and Elizabeth. Zechariah was serving in the temple when the angel Gabriel came with an amazing promise from God. He and Elizabeth would finally have a son. When Zechariah heard the angel’s promise, he spoke disbelieving and doubt-filled words. Because of that, he would be unable to speak again until the promise was fulfilled, and the baby born. God is so gracious. He does not take back the promise because of the doubting servant. I wonder what Zechariah learned during the time he could not speak? Would he speak differently when he was able to speak again?
He did. When John the Baptist was born, Zechariah’s lips were loosed, and we see a change. That stretch of silence was valuable. Zechariah knows his own words were not needed to carry God’s plan through. Now prophecies and praises pour from his mouth. All who hear him are blessed and in awe of the Lord.
This story convicts me. I, like Zechariah, have spoken faithless words. Rude and pinched words, human views, my personal judgments instead of God’s grace, my puny opinion instead of God’s great truth, words of doubt, complaint, fretting, aimless words and arrogant words, all have gushed from my lips. I have said things that dishonor the promises of God to me, and to others. And today I need to quiet my lips, focus on what God has promised, and believe. Worship God with my silence. And learn, like Zechariah, how to better speak. Oh Lord, what words of yours is it time that I accept and believe?
Father, Forgive me for the doubt-filled words I have said. I have quenched the very Holy Spirit I have asked to move. Today I give you silent lips. Your words are better than mine, so wonderful and true. They bring life and hope to all who hear them. Today I will be in awe of what you have said and of how every promise from your lips will come true. Help me Lord, to be quiet and believe. Prepare me to better speak. Amen
Immediately his [Zechariah’s] mouth was opened and his tongue set free, and he began to speak, praising God. Luke 1:64 NIV
Recently something surprised me and upset me to tears. It was a small thing, but still “I don’t like surprises,” I told my husband. “Well, I don’t like bad surprises,” I clarified as he was helping me pray about it. I haven’t had many bad surprises in my life, but I go to pieces when I feel ambushed. I sit down and wilt. The Lord began to guide my startled heart and steady me with truth.
Later that day I felt a worthy whisper to my soul, “What about all the good surprises?” I stopped what I was doing and took in the question? I liked it. God was leading me to recollect and recount His goodness.
That evening my husband was giving a live devotional teaching and I sat behind the camera listening. Near the end of his talk he mentioned his mother who recently died and about how God had given him a comforting picture of her. It’s a real picture of her actually. We found it two months ago when we were going through albums. She was younger, looking up and away, her eyes wide, bright and happy. I’ve wondered what caused her such delight in that photo because what she is looking at is out of our view. My husband says this is the picture that God has impressed on his mind. He sees it as his mother’s glad surprise when she arrives in heaven. When my husband uses the word surprise I’m arrested. As he continues to share with his followers, God is speaking to me. “Heaven will be the best good surprise. It will be astonishingly good.”
As I lay in bed that night I have time to recount God’s good surprises. My list begins when I am a young girl with my dad leaving new shoes by my bed during the night, shoes my mom asked him to pick up during his late shift at work. I remember winning a poster contest. I recall a hum drum evening turning on a happy dime with the announcement that we were going to the Dairy Queen. There were many surprising blankets of snow. I remember the day my dad accompanied us ice skating and we arrived home after dark to a cozy supper laid out by mom, a scene etched in my mind. And then, there’s the surprise of Christmas presents. So much kindness wrapped up under our tree… I’ve spent many nights now recounting God’s goodnesses and I’ve yet to make it out of my childhood memories before I fall asleep. I should work the list backwards next time.
As a church we are reading the Bible through. Recently we encountered one of my favorite stories. It’s about David when he was ambushed. David had been through a lot, running for his life from King Saul, living hand to mouth, camping out in enemy territory, trying not to make any mistakes in his conduct. He and his fighting men arrive back at their camp in Ziklag to find it destroyed by fire, their wives and children carried off by the Amalekites. It was awful. The Bible says that “David and his men wept aloud until they had no more strength left to weep.” (1 Sam. 30:4) And that “David was greatly distressed because the men were talking of stoning him.” They were so bitter in spirit over their loss.
At this juncture David did two important things. First, the Bible says he “found strength in the Lord his God.” This is a habit that David had cultivated. Second, David did not accuse the Lord, but “inquired” of Him. “Shall I pursue this raiding party? Will I overtake them?” he asked. (1 Sam. 30:8)
“Pursue them,” the Lord answered. “You will certainly overtake them and succeed in the rescue.”
It was an arduous battle but God led David and his men. They fought for and retrieved everyone and everything. Nothing was missing. Plus, there was plunder. So much plunder that David sent some as gifts to those in all the places he and his men had roamed. It’s interesting to note that David did not think, “Surely after all I have been through I deserve this wealth. I will keep it for myself.”
In this story we learn how to handle an ambush, a bad surprise, heartache, despair, betrayal, terrible news, whatever… Here David shows us how true royalty behaves, for we are God’s royal sons and daughters. And with God’s promises and His counsel there is always a way forward when we feel devastated. Strengthening ourselves in God during any trouble, and inquiring of him, these are good things to learn and be practicing.
I think this attack at Ziklag was probably David’s toughest moment on the way to what God had anointed him for and promised him, the kingship. Scripture proves that there is often a great and difficult battle before a breakthrough and a shift in the kingdom.
After this struggle to retrieve their families, King Saul who has hunted David for years dies. And things begin to shift. We see this at the cross of Christ as well. That was a very dark day, a day of betrayal, desertion, abuse, loneliness, suffering… Jesus inquired of the Father and pressed through in obedience, paying for our sins. He rescued us from our enemy. He brought us back home to God. A kingdom shifted. A great and glorious surprise for all mankind.
What has the enemy run off with that belonged to you? Do things appear lost or over? Maybe they’re not. Strengthen yourself in the Lord. Inquire of him. Is he telling you to go after something?
He did me.
Be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power. Put on the full armor of God, so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes. For our struggle is not against flesh and blood… Take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God. And pray….Ephesians 6: 10-11, 16-18 NIV
We are in the midst of a pandemic, the global outbreak of a deadly virus, and all but essential businesses have been shut down. Just like that, in a matter of weeks, no concerts, no sporting events, no March madness, no school or college campus classes, no church gatherings. Even the Olympics have been cancelled. Everyone is ordered to stay at home.
What is God up to I wonder? What is he doing? And what does he desire to do in me? Do I need to repent? Let me do it. Do I need to change my ways? Let me do it. Have I taken up an idol and allowed my heart to be divided? Let me cast it down now for Jesus alone. God alone. These are thoughts that run through my mind.
This past week I was FaceTiming my mom and she reminded me of a song called “The King is Coming.” As a young girl I remember hearing Doug Oldham sing it. It’s a very visual song and the scenes always played out in my mind when I heard it. In the middle of our conversation my mom began reciting the words. The old scenes came back as I listened…
The marketplace is empty No more traffic in the streets All the builders’ tools are silent No more time to harvest wheat Busy housewives cease their labors In the courtroom no debate Work on earth is all suspended As the King comes thro’ the gate. O the King is coming The King is coming…
I’ve been thinking about that song all week. Never in my lifetime did I expect to see such a dramatic suspension of the world’s activities. I’m still in shock. And awe. It makes me wonder, is it time for this prophecy to be fulfilled? Is the King, Jesus, coming? Who could clear a room quicker than God? And why would he? Why the suspension of activity? Is it a holy hush? Is God clearing the way for a greater entrance into my heart or his great entrance into the world? I feel him directing my soul toward higher realities. I see how I’ve been consumed with “my little kingdom” things.
One night on my couch, I’m listening to the song again. It’s over and I’m thinking. Truths are rushing in. Today I pen them…
There is a greater courtroom to consider A higher judge A grander debate A better business to be done A more worthy race to run There is a greater glory One more worthy Of our cheers than men A higher arena A greater drama There is a grander stage Truer songs Words more worthy of our breath Higher bread Truer gold A greater exchange to invest in The gold of salvation The ransom of men For our King comes soon Through the gate There’s no time to sleep my soul Be shaken now awake
“…we wait for the blessed hope, that is the glorious appearance of our great God and Savior, Jesus Christ.” Titus 2:13 EHV
Last night I watched the news and began to worry. What if supplies run out and we have to spend 2 weeks on lock down for this Corona virus. Do we have all we need?
This morning I showed up at Kroger before the doors opened. I did not grab a cart but went straight for the toilet paper. When I had 2 packages I went back for a cart and began my hunt for two weeks’ worth of groceries, dried beans, yogurt… I was trying to remind myself to be kind and gracious which is a stretch for me when I’m worried and wanting. If I could just get my stuff for two weeks I would be unworried and comfortable, then I could be kind and gracious.
In the checkout line the lady behind me looked at my supplies and said, “Oh, they had Clorox spray? I didn’t know they had Clorox spray?” “Would you like one?” I asked. “I picked up two and don’t really need both.” She thanked me and took the one I handed her.
As I headed for the exit I thought maybe I should just see if they still had another Clorox spray. I could replace the one I had given away. A little voice in my heart said “don’t… just trust.” I didn’t heed it. Instead I asked the gentleman at the self-checkout if I could leave my cart sit for a moment and went straight to aisle 19. I picked up and paid for another Clorox spray (that kills 99.9 percent of bacteria and viruses) and pushed my cart out the door. I had gone four feet when something fell from my very full cart and hit the ground. It was the Clorox spray. The lid was now cracked and the liquid was pouring out on to the road. As I picked up the ruined bottle what came to mind was moldy manna…
When God supplied his people with manna in the wilderness he had one rule (Exodus 16). Take only what you need for the day. He was trying to teach them to trust him a day at a time. Those who gathered to hoard found the manna molded if they kept it overnight. I felt convicted. I knew God brought this story to my mind as a caution to my heart. He wants me to trust him deeply. And this virus outbreak is a perfect opportunity for me to practice the trust I want to have.
Will I walk by faith through this? Will I allow my cart to be less full in order to leave room for trusting? Will I train myself in this smaller crisis how to act in a bigger crisis? Will I become the person I want to be when things get really hard and truly frightening? Here is my opportunity to act on what I say I believe, that “God will supply all my needs according to his riches in glory” and that His mercies are indeed “new every morning.”
Later that day I pulled out a devotional book I had not looked at in a long time. When I turned to the bookmarked page here is what I read:
The Cure for Care
… Casting all your anxiety on Him, because He cares for you.” 1 Peter 5:7 NASB
We imagine that a little anxiety and worry are indications of how wise we are. We think we seethe dangers of life clearly. In reality, however, our fears are only an indication of how wicked we really are.
As Charles G. Trumbull says,
“Worry is a sin; a black, murderous, God-defying, Christ-rejecting sin; worry about anything, at any time whatever. We will never know victory over worry and anxiety until we begin to treat it as sin. For such it is. It is a deep-seated distrust of the Father, who assures us again and again that even the falling sparrow is in His tender care.”
The only way blunders and destruction can occur in our lives is when we forget to trust God. When we take things into our own unskilled hands…
(Clippings from My Notebook– by Corrie Ten Boom)
Forgive me for trying to take comfort in a stock pile (toilet paper, paper towels, water bottles…) I want to walk by faith and not by sight. I want to heed your still small voice. Teach me how to live with open hands and loose ends. Help me to be generous like you. Give me the grace I need to take faith steps each day. Thank you for your Word. It is a faithful corrector, a trainer and a guide, the truth. Thank you for blessing me with a huge stock pile “in the heavenly realms” and “with every spiritual blessing in Christ!” (Ephesians 1:3)
In Jesus name,
Finally, brothers and sisters, “Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right,whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable… think about such things.
We drove home from Jake’s moms one morning and stopped at McDonalds for a cup of coffee to share. As we pulled away from the drive thru I was happy. It was one of those moments when your heart is full and you feel thankful for the simple opportunity in front of you, a beautiful peace-filled drive with your husband.
I removed the lid from the large coffee we were to share and poured a creamer in. Jake had an empty Styrofoam cup in the car and as I got ready to pour half of our coffee into his cup I glanced over at him. He was frowning. He didn’t say anything but in an instant I realized what I had done. He didn’t want creamer in his coffee. I knew this. I’d made this mistake before. Why didn’t I remember? My heart sank and my happy moment vanished in an instant. I started to cry, and not just a little. I bawled. What on earth was wrong with me? I have heard of crying over spilt milk, but coffee with misplaced creamer?
I had two thoughts as I began to cry. One, I ruined it. I ruined a beautiful moment. And two, why couldn’t he just drink the coffee. Soon I realized what was really going on. I collected myself and turned to my husband who was feeling terrible. In a nutshell I bumbled through an explanation like this, “I’m sorry. I’m just crying because this is my issue, my big issue. I’m scared I’ll ruin something. I’m scared I’ll ruin something really big. Like my chance to get into heaven.” I know it sounds crazy but I had a history with this topic. My husband knew about it. We had talked about it before. He nodded in understanding.
I faced the open road and wondered why I was so afraid of messing up. I looked at the coffee. I wanted to get rid of it. I wanted to pitch it out the window…
Then it was the most amazing thing. All I can say is that grace poured into the moment. And a wonderful truth came to my heart. I turned back to my husband. “I’ve got it,” I said. “I’ve got the truth. Jesus will drink the coffee.”
On the hinge of that truth things swung in a different direction. I began thinking about the cup of sin and suffering that Jesus said he would drink when he went to the cross. He was speaking figuratively of course but that cup he would drink held all my sins and mistakes. Because I haven’t just ruined a cup of coffee. That’s the least of it. I’ve ruined opportunities and relationships, with things I’ve said or done, or haven’t said, or done. And Jesus, my Lord, is the only person I know who will take the cup of my mistakes, past present and future, and drink it.
What a gift. Who of us wouldn’t wish for that? And want that. Want that hero to come into our lives and swallow all that stuff so we can be free. And forgiven. So we can smile again. Hope again. And try again. Makes me want to shout Halleluiah!
I thought about this truth and felt a deep happiness. I looked at the cup of coffee I had wanted to pitch out the window and I wanted to drink it. Because now it was a communion cup, a celebration of Jesus sacrifice for me. I sipped that coffee and I drank deeply of the love of God.
My husband smiled at me. “I want some of that coffee,” he said. So I poured some into his cup. He took a sip then lifted his cup up in my direction. “Cheers. To Jesus,” I said as I touched my cup to his.
Then he took a cup, and when he had given thanks, he gave it to them saying, “Drink from it, all of you. This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins.”
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. His appearance was like lightning, and his clothes were white as snow. The guards were so afraid of him that they shook and became like dead men…
some of the guards went into the city and reported to the chief priests everything that had happened. When the chief priests had met with the elders and devised a plan, they gave the soldiers a large sum of money, telling them, “You are to say ‘His disciples came during the night and stole him away while we were asleep’ …so the soldiers took the money and did as they were instructed.” Matt. 28: 2-4, 11-13, 15 NIV
The chief priests were determined to believe what they wanted to believe and to keep everything the way it was. This isn’t the first time they hear a report about something amazing that Jesus did and remain completely unmoved by it. They don’t even blink. They don’t absorb the wonder. People had been healed in front of them, and they disregarded it- no joy, no compassion for the one healed, no amazement at God or Jesus. Now an angel has rolled a gravestone away. Jesus crucified, is risen from the dead. The power of sin is broken.
And their faces are stony, their hearts hardened by their own agendas. Then, they get out bribe money to keep their own plans and positions intact. And the guards, after witnessing a miracle, are willing to become liars to keep their jobs. They take the money and leave true riches on the table.
Examine my heart. Where do I ignore the wonder of you in
order to protect my plan, and my way? Let me be in awe of your resurrection. And of you. Let me stop and acknowledge the wonderful and
surprising things you do. Even if it
slows me down. And costs me. Let me live to perpetuate the wonder of
Sometimes it’s tempting to just be an armchair Christian, a Christian commentator, or a spectator, because when you’re “in the game” you’re going to have moments where you goof up, and it never feels good. I was doing something a little out of my comfort zone, trying to do the right thing for the Lord, but I messed it up. My heart felt right, it’s just that things didn’t go right. I was deflated. Why do I always blow it? I thought. Chalk another one up to my awkwardness. “A” for idea. “F” for execution.
As I stood in the worship service that Sunday morning I was tempted to make everything about me- my failure, my wishing I could be better at stuff- which is not at all what worship is about. Worship isn’t about looking at me. It’s about seeing God and all that he is in spite of me- my sins and mistakes. It’s about noticing his perfection. And celebrating the fact that when we blow it, he’s still there, and picking up the pieces.
I had made a hustling mistake, that’s all. It happens. I just needed to do what good athletes do, and that is, let it go. Get up, dust myself off, remain focused, and move forward.
As I emotionally “dusted myself off,” I remembered how I used to be a referee instead of a player. How I sat back, watched what others did on the field, judged them, and called infractions. I was good at that. But, it wasn’t my job. And one day the Lord let me know that I was to stop judging what everyone else was doing and get in the game. Because my team needed me to be a player.
And so I’m learning that when you’re in the game, as much as you want to, you just won’t play perfectly. Baseball players strike out. Football players fumble. Basketball players miss the net. And so do Christians. We will foul someone, we will sin, and we will make hustling mistakes, but we have to get over it. And we do that through the cross, which is the key to being a good player and staying in the game. We will never outgrow our need for it. When we drop the ball, we have to turn to the cross and apply Jesus grace to the situation.
As I processed these things, my gaze shifted from my imperfect self to my perfect Heavenly Father. I imagined him looking down at me and smiling. Smiling because I was trying to do what pleased him, and had a heart to play. I wasn’t looking at my failure anymore or thinking about what others might think. I was looking at God, my Coach. I felt he had called me aside to say, “Thanks for stepping up and giving it a go. Now let it go. Trust me. Enjoy me. Know that I take delight in watching you play. Don’t give up. Keep doing your best. Thanks for being on my team. And remember, whatever happens, we do win this thing.”
Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus. Philippians 3:13-14 NIV