Promises for those who've blown it

Isaiah 40 is so familiar to many Christians because of how often its many wonderful promises are quoted. Remember this one?... "They who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint" (Isaiah 40:31). Or how about... "He will tend His flock like a shepherd; He will gather the lambs in His arms; he will carry them in His bosom, and gently lead those that are with young" (Isaiah 40:11)? And then there's... "The grass withers, the flower fades, but the word of our God will stand forever" (Isaiah 40:8).

But how well do I remember that this chapter was written to a people who were living in exile as punishment for their idolatry? These verses weren't written for the faithful but for the chastised. They weren't intended for those who had been working hard for the Lord but for those who had been disciplined hard for their sins. Do I realize that the wonderful promises of Isaiah 40 were meant for the miserable rather than the mature?

That's why it begins with "Comfort, comfort my people, says your God. Speak tenderly to Jerusalem, and cry to her that her warfare is ended, that her iniquity is pardoned" (Isaiah 40:1-2). No Christian who has been in God's dealings due to their sins should feel unworthy of the promises of this passage. It was written specifically for such people! Isaiah 40 was written to help repentant sinners to see that there is hope.

So as God has seen fit to address a persistent sin in my life this past week, and as that has left me discouraged and tempted to feel like a failure, it's really worth remembering that those who "mount up with wings like eagles," and those whom God helps to "run and not be weary," are the very same people God came to comfort after they needed some serious discipline for their sins! For He may bring us low, but only so that He can lift us up!

© 2010 by Ken Peters

An awesome combination!

Power and grace. What an amazingly awesome combination when an infinite amount of each of them are mixed together as God's gift to us! God truly wows me when I read about "the immeasurable greatness of his power" in Ephesians 1:19 and about "the immeasurable riches of his grace" a few verses later in Ephesians 2:7. Immeasurable! Both are totally evident in what Jesus did for us on the cross (amazing grace) and in how God raised him from the dead and seated him on heaven's throne (awesome power).

But as I pause and consider the incredible scale of God's grace and power, I wonder how evident it is in the routines of my everyday life that I've been on the receiving end of such glorious gifts. Does my life appear as though it's been touched by "the surpassing greatness" of God's power and "the surpassing riches" of God's grace (as the NASB describes them)? Surpassing what? Surpassing our weaknesses. Surpassing our understanding. Surpassing our expectations. Surpassing our mistakes. Surpassing our abilities. Surpassing our insecurities. Mixed together, God's grace -- meaning his unmerited favour -- and God's power -- meaning his unlimited strength -- ought to radically change our lives, utterly altering our perspectives on what we see in this world and what we see in the mirror! They ought to fill us with complete confidence in the One who is "far above all rule and authority" (Eph. 1:21) and with genuine joy at having been shown his kindness (Eph. 2:7).

Though I can't possibly comprehend the sheer scale of these divine attributes, I have tasted enough of each to be made a new creation and a minister of the good news of Jesus (Eph. 3:7). And the key to living in the good of them -- when challengers rise up amidst the troubles of this world -- is to continually remind myself that the God whom I've invited to live within me and lead me everyday is the same God who is immeasurably powerful, gracious and kind!

© 2010 by Ken Peters

A little food humour after a night out...

I took Fiona out for dinner last night. It's not something we do that often and we really enjoyed ourselves. Time to talk and laugh, and of course there's all that gazing into each other's eyes. Yes, we're in love. Then as the waiter brought us our complimentary bread, Fiona and I both remembered some lines that we'd heard from a funny-man named Jim Gaffigan to do with restaurants and food. Here are a couple samples from him...

"I enjoy bread, but when I go out to dinner, suddenly I crave bread. 'Bread! They got bread here? We should have bread at home. We've gotta get the recipe for bread.' You ever go to a restaurant and eat the whole basket of bread? And you still want more? It's kind of awkward asking the waiter for seconds on bread. 'Yeah, can we have some more of that free bread? And you can cancel my entree; I'm just gonna load up on the bread.'"

"I'm moving a little slow tonight. I had a Hot Pocket for dinner. I buy those things, but I've never eaten a Hot Pocket and been like, 'I'm glad I ate that.' I'm always like, 'I'm gonna die! I paid for that? Did I eat it or rub it on my face? My back hurts!' I was looking at a box of Hot Pockets; they have a warning printed on the side. It's like, 'Warning: You just bought Hot Pockets! Hope you're drunk or heading home to a trailer, you hillbilly. Enjoy the next NASCAR event.' You never really see them on the menu when you go out to dinner, you know. 'Um yeah, I'll have the Caesar salad and a Hot Pocket.' There's also the vegetarian Hot Pocket for those who don't want to eat meat but still want diarrhea."

© 2010 by Ken Peters

Removing a stone in my soul

Someone who writes as much about "perseverance and trust" as I do (see index in right column), must have a problem with it, right? Yep. You betcha. And those of you who read my previous post know that God recently exposed some other issues in my life that took me by surprise. Well, due to how troubling the combination of all that felt, I decided to take a personal prayer retreat at a monastery for a few days. I needed to get to the bottom of what God was trying to say to me. I spent considerable time in silence and in solitude, reading and praying.

And I heard God. In fact, as I was reading something in one particular book (if you'll permit another stone metaphor), I heard the familiar clang of a spade that's been aggressively thrust into the earth and has hit a significant stone. I was reading the chapter on Psalm 130 in Eugene Peterson's book, A Long Obedience in the Same Direction. Peterson says that "the two great realities of Psalm 130 [are that] suffering is real [and] God is real." And the psalmist speaks of suffering in the context of a prayer to a God who is clearly understood "as a personal and concerned being."

"Eight times the name of God is used in the psalm [in eight verses]. We find, as we observe how God is addressed, that he is understood as one who forgives sin, who comes to those who wait and hope for him, who is characterized by steadfast love and plenteous redemption, and who will redeem Israel. God makes a difference. God acts positively toward his people. God is not indifferent. He is not rejecting. He is not ambivilant or dilatory. He does not..." -- CLANG! Here was the word at which my shovel hit the stone in me. I had been underlining that paragraph with my pen and suddenly stopped underlining. I paused. I stared at the word. I stared at Psalm 130. No, I thought, I don't see that idea in this psalm. I moved on.

The next day, as I read from a second book and sat reflecting on what I'd just read, it felt as though the Lord reminded me of that stone in my soul that I'd hit with my shovel the day before. It felt like God was asking me, "Why did you stop underlining when you hit that word?" I said I didn't think Psalm 130 supported the use of that word. "Yeah right. Look again." I looked again. The psalm definitely supported the use of the word I was stuck on. "Okay, so why did you stop underlining at that point?" I admitted that it was because I didn't believe it. Ah hah! That was the issue, right there. Unbelief. And what was the word? This is the phrase at which I stopped underlining: "He does not act arbitrarily in fits and starts." CLANG! I found myself struggling to believe that God's love wasn't arbitrary.

By arbitrary, I was thinking random, unplanned or even careless. And I began to realize that in light of my past experiences -- both distant past and recent -- I've come to see God's love as arbitrary. Most recently, I've thought of God's lack of action on my wife's behalf as so unexplainable that it felt arbitrary and uncaring. And because God's answers to my prayers didn't seem consistent with what I saw Him doing in the Bible, I felt that God's answers seemed arbitrary rather than according to any divine plan. And of course, that simply means I was thinking that God is not good. And of course, that means I was in a spiritual danger zone as I recalled the warnings of verses like Hebrews 3:12... "Take care brothers, lest there be in any of you an evil, unbelieving heart, leading you to fall away from the living God."

The second book I'd been reading was Suffering and the Sovereignty of God by John Piper, and in that book, Piper emphasizes that one of Satan's primary strategies is to convince us, amidst the suffering in this world, that God is not good. It seemed as though I'd stepped into that very trap, and the pain and anxiety it was causing me was resulting in an anger and cynicism and negativity that was coming out in various areas of my life.

But Piper's point in that book is to emphasize something far more helpful. And what Piper wrote now leaves me far less inclined to interpret God's responses to my prayers for my wife as arbitrary. After reading his book, I was ready to repent of the lie I've believed about His love and to embrace the God who has shown His love quite convincingly in the suffering He endured for us.

He writes: "When Joseph tried to do his very best, it went wrong. But God was never against him. Never. As a Christian you're interpreting your situation wrongly if you think that. If you cast yourself on the Lord, if you trust him, if you love him, he's going to work everything together for your good, if it takes thirteen years or twenty-seven years... You can always look at Jesus hanging on the cross and ask, is that infinite worth not sufficient to cover my sin? Is it not sufficient to cover my problem? Is it not sufficient to give evidence that he will help me? Just fall there... The bottom-line answer is: Look to Christ. Look to Christ. Look to Christ. Only in looking to Christ and the cross does Romans 8:16 powerfully happen. 'The Spirit bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God.'" And God's love for His children is certainly not arbitrary. It is always, and ever will be, extravagant!

© 2010 by Ken Peters

Avoiding offense with Jesus

This past week, a close friend of mine turned over a stone in my life to see what was under it, and it wasn't pretty. I'm still trying to sort out what we found under there. Despite all the recent things I'd written in this blog, I was shocked at the struggles that were obviously still going on in my heart. And though this post isn't about all that appeared to be under that stone, there is something that the Lord has recently shown me in His Word that I think is related to it all.

When John the Baptist's disciples came to ask Jesus, on behalf of John, if Jesus was the Messiah they'd been waiting for, Jesus gave a strange answer. He listed the many wonderful and miraculous deeds He'd been doing -- healing the sick, raising the dead and preaching good news to the poor -- and then Jesus said, "And blessed is the one who is not offended by Me" (Luke 7:23).

To the modern reader, it can seem strange that Jesus would be concerned with issuing a warning about offense in the context of such wonderfully amazing good deeds. Surely Jesus was listing all these good deeds to make it clear to John that only someone sent by God could accomplish them. So why the concern regarding potential offense? I've only know one way to answer that question. If John had the typical Jewish idea of what the Messiah was expected to come and do -- deliver Israel from Roman oppression -- he would have been vulnerable to being disappointed by Jesus's lack of action in this regard. And if Jesus had actually dared to tell John about His plan to be killed by the Romans, such a thought would have surely been offensive to John.

And though I've long understood this story in that way, and have often read it with an air of familiarity, contentedly smug in my superior perspective to John's ancient views, I'm vaguely aware of my own vulnerability to offense with Jesus regarding similar issues. It's 2010 now, and Jesus still hasn't delivered my wife of kidney disease. Sure I can see Him doing loads of good things in this world -- but like John, I'm capable of minimizing all of that in light of what I don't see Him doing. I'm capable of being offended because Jesus hasn't done what I thought He ought to have done by now! I'm capable of being distracted by unmet expectations.

But it's not Jesus' job to meet my expectations -- not in this or any area of my life -- and I'll be blessed if I don't take offense with Him over that. It's good to have expectations, but it's also good to hold them with open hands and with an open mind. God does things in His way, in His timing, according to His plan. That was true in John the Baptist's day, and it's true today. And the sooner I embrace that amidst all the hopes that I have, the more blessed I will be as God gradually reveals His plans to me.

© 2010 by Ken Peters

Believe!

The last installment of a brief series of personal reflections on how I feel God has been posturing me for this new decade. Nothing profound. Just an honest and vulnerable look at where I'm at and who God is revealing Himself to be to me.

My wife Fiona has been looking for a specific kind of wall hanging for our front landing. She wants to hang the word Believe on the wall we see as we come and go through our front door (...and of course, she has a very specific style in mind that's made finding the right word Believe a bit of a challenge!).

The word believe can at times seem either ridiculous or inspiring, or both, depending on your circumstances. And from a Biblical perspective, it doesn't appear that God always wants to direct our lives in such a way that it's easy to believe. A good example of this is the very first place we see the word believe in the Bible. It says of Abraham in Genesis 15:6, "And he believed the Lord..." That phrase in that context flies in the face of all reason, of all biological realities, and of simple common sense. Picture it: Abraham and Sarah were very old and had no children, and God visits Abraham to tell him that his offspring will be as numerous as the stars! Abraham's response is what makes him the father of our faith: he believed God.

I don't know about you, but I don't find believing God in the face of extreme odds -- in the face of stiff opposition -- in the face of uncontrollable uncertainties -- in the face of great hindrances -- in the face of impossibilities easy. In fact, I often end up in unbelief when facing such circumstances. But not Abraham. He believed God when promised something that looked impossible. And even in the midst of his struggles to trust God, as details in the next couple chapters reveal (Genesis16:3-4 and 17:18), Abraham still chose to believe what God had promised him.

Believe. I want to get that through my head and into my heart. I'm a so-called "believer" on account of my belief in Jesus Christ as my Saviour, so can I be a believer in God's goodness and love as I walk with Jesus through hard times? Believe. That's what I want to do. "And I believed the Lord..." I want that to be said of me when people look at my life. By God's grace, I want to believe God's Word, God's love, God's promises, and God's prophetic words. I want to believe despite odds, despite obstacles, despite opposition, despite circumstances, despite delays, despite doctor's reports, despite popular opinion and despite myself.

May God help me to believe Him to be who He is and to do what only He can do. May God help me to believe Him for more than what my flesh would be quite ready to settle for. Because the God I know is truly worthy of such confidence.

© 2010 by Ken Peters

To be owned or on my own: Postures for a new decade (part 3)

A brief series of personal reflections on how I feel God has been posturing me for this new decade. Nothing profound. Just an honest and vulnerable look at where I'm at and who God is revealing Himself to be to me.

I recently noticed that a friend of mine describes his religious views on Facebook in a unique way: "Jesus owns me." Wow. I've never really thought of summing up my religious views like that. But having seen it now, I'm stirred by that three-word description. And I think it touches something in my soul that I want it to touch. Because as this new year begins, I too want to be that sold out to Jesus.

Ownership has its implications. If I own something, then I have the final say regarding what that something is to be used for. With ownership comes authority. And 1 Corinthians 6:19-20 says that God owns me. This is a little more extreme than simply being a soldier under orders (as in 2 Timothy 2:3-4). This is the idea of being a slave. It says in 1 Corinthians 6:20 that I was "bought with a price." I've heard that phrase used in reference to a person who is on the slave blocks being redeemed by someone else who has paid a price for that person to be freed. But that's not what that phrase is about in this passage, because it immediately follows another phrase -- "You are not your own." It seems to me that this passage is more about the ownership of a slave rather than the redemption of a slave. And with ownership of that slave comes authority over that slave.

This all sounds so familiar. Is this any different than simply calling Jesus my Lord? No, it's the same. But what makes it stand out in my mind is that I feel more accustomed to calling Jesus my Lord than calling myself Jesus' slave. That's because I'm much more familiar with thinking of myself as Jesus' friend or as God's son, which are also true of who I am. But if I'm a Christian, then it's worth remembering that God actually owns me. And if He owns me, then He has the final say over what I do with my life and my day, and I'm not meant to argue. I'm His. I'm not my own.

That's totally applicable to what I do in response to His Word, to daily decisions I face, and to what I do with my future. A slave must die to his or her own preferences or plans. As a slave, my future is no longer mine. Today is no longer mine. And if I don't like that, the only alternative is to be on that slave block, unredeemed and on my own, destined to be owned by my sins until I die in them (Romans 6:16). I don't want that, and it's knowing that the One who bought me is also the One who adopts me (Romans 8:15) that makes me eager to be owned by such a wonderful God!

The Apostle Paul sometimes introduced himself as a slave of Christ at the beginning of his New Testament letters. And I know that he understood the implications of ownership. And if I'm to be as eager to embrace God's will for my life as Paul was, I too need to understand that there's more joy to be found as God's slave than in trying to find satisfaction in the freedom of pursuing my own preferences.

© 2010 by Ken Peters

The Gifts or the Giver: Postures for a new decade (part 2)

A brief series of personal reflections on how I feel God has been posturing me for this new decade. Nothing profound. Just an honest and vulnerable look at where I'm at and who God is revealing Himself to be to me.

God is using a story I recently read in Luke, chapter 5 to help me to evaluate my priorities. In fact, the conclusion of this story never ceases to startle me. The end of the story seems more amazing to me than the great catch of fish that happens in the middle. It all begins with Jesus telling Peter to put out into deep water to let down his nets for a catch. Peter protests but complies. The nets then fill with fish to the point of breaking, and Peter calls for help to haul in the fish. Peter then falls down in awe before Jesus. Then Jesus says that from now on Peter will be catching men. Then it says Peter, James and John brought their boats in to land -- and here's the part that startles me -- "they left everything and followed him" (Luke 5:11). All those fish! They just walked away from a bonanza that they'd probably always dreamed of. All they'd ever known was catching fish, and they knew what a net full of fish would fetch in the market. And they'd finally hit the jackpot! But they just walked away from the whole catch. They wanted to be with Jesus far more than they wanted the great gift He had just given them.

Now I'm afraid that the reason I find that conclusion so startling is because it doesn't jive with my natural sensibilities. I think, why would they do that? At least sell the fish first! And I'm sure that that means there must be things in this world that I'd rather not walk away from if Jesus asked me to. I have to ask myself, would I do the same thing? What if I applied this to something important to me? What have I spent years seeking after, and what have I put a great deal of value in when I've found it? If Jesus gave me a sudden and bountiful supply of that something, but then asked me to turn my back on it in order to follow Him, would I do so without hesitation? I believe I'd only be able to if I were as awestruck with Jesus as the first disciples were.

But I need to make this more personal in order to properly evaluate my heart. What if Jesus led me to a garage-full of old 1st-edition, mint condition, used books that was being sold by its owner, $1 for the entire lot of them?! Then what if -- as Jesus began walking away -- He said that from now on I'd be collecting souls instead of books? Would I want to follow Him? Would I leave behind that garage full of books to follow Him? I believe I would. But I wonder if I'd be looking over my shoulder at the great goldmine I was leaving behind more than looking forward in awe at the One I'd chosen to follow.

I'm conscious of many material things in this world competing for my affections. Has that left me too often focused on some great catch of a legitimate earthly pursuit that's captured my passions? As I get excited from time to time, what does it look like I value most to the casual observer? Is my focus on the things I'd love for God to suddenly drop into my hands, or on the only One who is truly capable of satisfying my soul?

As I begin this new decade, I desperately need to see that all those fish, and all those books, and any other pursuit of this world that can get me excited are of absolutely no significance compared to knowing the One who is clearly capable of filling my life with many good things -- but who would rather fill me with Himself. In 2010, I want to see Jesus in a way that makes any other pursuit seem pale. And as I seek Him, may He fill me with such awe, that I'd give up anything to live for Him.

© 2010 by Ken Peters

Unbelief or Continual Hope: Postures for a new decade (part 1)

A brief series of personal reflections on how I feel God has been posturing me for this new decade. Nothing profound. Just an honest and vulnerable look at where I'm at and who God is revealing Himself to be to me.

I didn't want to begin this new year at a faith-deficit. But despite my best intentions, after watching my wife's troubled health go on for another year, I have to admit that I've found it difficult lately to continue believing for a miracle. Should I just let it go and simply learn to accept her illness as an unalterable reality? Or does God want me to still seek Him for the miraculous, trusting Him in how and when He answers?

And as I've considered all this, I began the year reading the Gospel of Luke. I was immediately faced with the familiar story of Zechariah and Elizabeth (a story I've referred to before in this blog). Though we're told "they were both righteous before God" (Luke 1:6), Zechariah sounds like he too had grown unexpectant of an answer to a long-sought-for prayer for his wife's barrenness to be healed. So much so, that he responded rather poorly when an angel actually showed up to tell him that his prayers were to be answered. Zechariah's response: "How shall I know this? For I am an old man, and my wife is advanced in years" (Luke 1:18). There was enough unbelief in his words -- and perhaps even his tone -- that the angel Gabriel struck him mute until the angel's words came to pass.

Imagine having so much skepticism or doubt that one would have the cheek to address an angel that way! Yet I can't help but wonder how much that sounds like me in how -- after all the years of disappointing test results -- I struggle with doubts as I read what the Bible says about healing. I feel like a "Yeah, right" has grown in my soul to do with Fiona's healing. And there's no way I want to go through 2010 with such unbelieving thoughts bouncing around in my head. God's plan may be to heal Fiona tomorrow. Is my response going to be, "How shall I know this? Prove it!"? No! Rather, I want God to help me to enter 2010 as expectant as I ever have been, eager for a miracle and trusting God in whatever He chooses to do! Just as C.S. Lewis says of Aslan, with God's timetable, all times are soon. And by God's grace, I will continue to hope and pray for a miracle for my beautiful wife and for anyone else I meet in need of a miracle!

© 2010 by Ken Peters

Summing up

Looking back on the past year and looking forward to the year ahead, I wonder how to express what I've learned or want to remember, and how I'd sum up such things in preparation for the coming year.

I wondered that as I read Psalm 117 near the end of 2009. Psalm 117 is the shortest psalm in the Bible. It's two verses. Seventeen words in Hebrew. Some psalmist long ago must have figured that those few words summed things up quite tidily. And I can't help but think that the few thoughts of this psalm are a helpful way for me to keep things in perspective too. After all, when a divinely-inspired psalmist only uses 17 words to express what God has put on his heart, you'd expect him to choose his themes carefully.

As I reflect on the year we've just been through and the year to come, I'm not sure how I'd be able to limit myself to 17 words if I were writing a psalm about it all. I expect I'd want to get into a little contrasting of my situations or struggles with how God fits into it all. Like, "Though I..., God is..." That's because I can sometimes think about myself a great deal more than about God.

But there's no room for that in Psalm 117. When the psalmist boils things down to 17 Hebrew words, his focus is on God. And most of what he says in reference to us as people is in the imperative: commands to praise God. He commands everyone -- "all nations" and "all peoples" -- to praise God. In fact, that was so important that he even felt the need to repeat it three times amidst his 17 words! That's telling if I'm trying to see what's important by what this economizing psalmist chose to focus on in this tiny psalm.

The rest of the psalm explains why God is worthy of praise: "For great is his steadfast love toward us, and the faithfulness of the Lord endures forever." It's encouraging to note that this is the only other way in which the few words of this psalm refer to us as people -- as the recipients of a faithful God's steadfast love. Encouraging yes, but that doesn't mean we're the focus of this psalm. We're simply the admirers and the worshipers of a wonderful God who has chosen to focus on us!

If that's what I choose to pin to my wall or stick on my fridge in 2010, I'll be doing well. Amidst health issues and work challenges, and amidst my own personal failings, Psalm 117 provides me with a needed reminder: Focus on God. He is worthy of praise -- His love for us is great and He is always faithful! That's an appropriate way to remember 2009, and a worthy focus for 2010. I want it to sum up how I choose to think and live as we embark upon this brand new year.

© 2010 by Ken Peters