The Third Day

“Jesus said to her, ‘I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die; and whoever lives by believing in me will never die. Do you believe this?’” John 11:25-26

The whole world thought he was dead.

Their hopes had been so high.  Living under an oppressive rule, he had emerged as a man who performed miracles among the least of them — the poor, the lame, the blind, the leper, the demon-possessed.  So many lives had changed beyond anything they could have imagined.  They were healed, brought back to life, rejoined to their families, all because of one man.

One man had noticed them when no one else had.  When the only other attention given to them was shame or pity, he had seen them.  He had looked into their eyes, into their very souls, and validated their existence.

He had done and said things no one ever had.  He worked on the Sabbath and made no apologies.  He overturned the tables and cleared the temple for making a mockery of it.  He stood in the faces of hypocritical religious leaders and called them blind guides and whitewashed tombs.  He fed thousands with a boy’s lunch.

They’d hoped to make him king.  He was on his way to greatness and they were on their way to freedom.  Just a week before they had celebrated him.

And now he was dead.

His disciples were in mourning.  He had said something to them about being raised on the third day, but who could know what he meant now.  The past three years were gone, and it all seemed a blur. Things seemed to be headed in such a hopeful direction.  Once they thought he’d be their leader and they’d serve alongside him.  He would redeem Israel.  He would be their savior.

Now he was a prophet at best.  Just a good man lying dead inside a tomb.  Where was God? Why did He let it happen? Jesus’ life and theirs had all taken a turn they never saw coming, and all their hopes and dreams were gone.

But things aren’t always as they seem.

Beyond their understanding, beyond their imagination, beyond their greatest hopes and dreams, Christ rose from the dead on the third day, just like He said He would.

Now, with the benefit of 2000 years and God’s Word, we know the end of the story. We know there was a purpose for His death.  We know He was indeed the Christ, the Messiah who was to come, and that He had to die and live again for the remission of the sins of mankind.  We know He stayed with them, teaching them for another forty days, and then He ascended into heaven to the right hand of the Father where He rules forever.

God’s ways were much higher than Jesus’ disciples ever could have imagined.  He didn’t come just to save Israel for this life, but all believers for eternity.  He didn’t come to be just king of a country, but King of our hearts.  We know He wasn’t only a prophet or a good man, He was, and is, God.

And in His resurrection, He showed His power over death.  He proved the words He’d spoken to them: “I am the way, the truth, and the life.”  John 14:6

Resurrection morning is all about life.  His life and ours. It’s about the Source of life coming down to redeem us and give us new life.  Not only did Christ rise, but in Him we rise.  When we believe in Him we’re forgiven of all our sins and His life courses through our veins.  We have the promise of our souls rising from the grave the moment our life here ends, and our bodies at the end of all things.

But we are not yet resurrected.  We are still bound to these bodies and we battle sin in ourselves and in the world every day. And there are times our lives can take a jolting turn. Like the disciples, we can have plans that God doesn’t have.  Life had been moving along so well and we had it all mapped out.  And then there was the loss of something — a child, a spouse, a parent, a career, a friendship, health.  Something changed and it wasn’t supposed to be that way.  Disillusion sets in.  All our hopes and dreams are gone.

And we can be like the disciples in those long hours after their friend’s lifeless body had been carried away for burial.  We wonder what happened.  We wonder where God is and how things could have turned out so differently than we thought they would. The hours tick by and we wonder if the third day will ever come.  We feel lost, confused and alone.

But things aren’t always as they seem.

In the dark hours of suffering and loss we can understand what the disciples didn’t: that our preconceived notions and personal hopes and dreams have to die if God’s are to live in and through us.  Just as God wanted to do so much more than the disciples could have imagined, He wants to do much more in our lives than we can ever dream.

We see the end of the story that the disciples had not yet seen. And God sees the end of our story.  He sees what He is making us to be.  He sees what’s on the other side of that hill in our journey.  He sees the joy on our faces as He raises us from the dead and we join Him in heaven.  He sees us living whole, glorified lives, our souls freed from every kind of pain to soar forever with Him in new life.

He is the Author of Life, and we can trust Him.

“Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day.”  2 Corinthians 4:16

Christ’s power over death is at work in us right now.  It may not look like it; it may not feel like it.  But the disciples would all tell us that looks and feelings can be deceiving.  We can have His joy now, knowing our third day will come soon.  And one day that joy will be complete, when the Maker of Life raises us with Him.  His resurrection gives us a taste of that new life now, and a glimpse of the glory to come.

In Him,

 

 

 

Belief is Worship

“See to it, brothers and sisters, that none of you has a sinful, unbelieving heart that turns away from the living God. But encourage one another daily, as long as it is called ‘Today,’ so that none of you may be hardened by sin’s deceitfulness. We have come to share in Christ, if indeed we hold our original conviction firmly to the very end. As has just been said:

‘Today, if you hear his voice,
do not harden your hearts
as you did in the rebellion.’

Who were they who heard and rebelled? Were they not all those Moses led out of Egypt? And with whom was he angry for forty years? Was it not with those who sinned, whose bodies perished in the wilderness? And to whom did God swear that they would never enter his rest if not to those who disobeyed? So we see that they were not able to enter, because of their unbelief.”  Hebrews 3:12-19

Don’t miss that this letter is written to brothers and sisters in the faith, yet the author warns them against unbelief.  How could they not believe once they’ve believed?

I believed in – put my faith in, trusted in – Christ as my Lord and Savior 24 years ago, yet in that 24 years the Lord has told me many things that have been hard to believe.  We believe unto salvation once, and afterward we make countless choices to believe (or not believe) truths unto maturity.

Unbelief is rebellion and fear.  Belief is worship.

Whatever you hear from your shepherd, whichever way He leads you, choose to believe and follow.  Continue to put your faith in Him, and He will lead you into a life of victory.

Grace and Peace,

Go with the Flow

We didn’t have much of a chance to talk when I was growing up, but later my dad and I would talk for hours.  We were both thinkers and we’d each spend way too much time in our heads trying to work out our problems.  We also both shared an inclination to write things down.  And when one called the other, all those thoughts that had been swirling around in our heads or maybe even made it onto paper, spilled out into our conversations.

We took turns, comparing notes, collaborating, solving the world’s problems since we couldn’t seem to solve our own.

I knew a little bit about the difficult life he’d had, and he knew a little bit more about mine.  Being my dad, I know he wanted to help me.  I don’t know much more of a helpless feeling than to be a parent who can only stand by and watch a child suffer.

He saw me flailing, struggling, and it was as if he were watching me from shore with no boat and no life raft of his own to share with me.

So he’d call out to me the best advice he could give: “Go with the flow.”

“Yeah, I know.”

But fighting came easier somehow.  It was instinctual.

They say if you’re caught in a riptide, swim with the current, parallel to the shoreline, until you’re safe.  But most people fight the current.  They use all their strength trying to swim back to shore in direct opposition to the powerful and relentless current, and many don’t make it.

Go with the flow.  Accept.  Yield.

Paul the apostle put it like this:

“Not that I speak from want, for I have learned to be content in whatever circumstances I am.  I know how to get along with humble means, and I also know how to live in prosperity; in any and every circumstance I have learned the secret of being filled and going hungry, both of having abundance and suffering need. I can do all things through Him who strengthens me.” Philippians 4:11-13 NAS

For God’s sons and daughters, He is that current in our lives.

He blows the winds of circumstances where He will, and to fight them is to fight Him, and no one wins fighting God.

But when we accept the circumstances of our lives as coming from the hand of a loving, all-powerful, all-present and all-knowing Father, we can, with Paul, learn the secret of contentedness, and trust Him to carry us to safety.

It seems to me at this moment a happy coincidence that my dad’s name was Paul, too.

Whether centuries ago or just a couple of decades, truth is truth, and somehow the Lord in His mercy, knowing full well that one day he’d give his heart to Christ, gave my dad what he needed to get through the storms of his life.

I didn’t get it so much when my dad was giving me his advice years ago.  I was younger then and still had the energy and stubbornness to fight.  But I’m getting it a little bit more these days.  God’s patience and many trials have worn me down.   And I’m glad. All that flailing was blocking the voice of God. Now I’m learning to be still and listen.

There are days I wish my dad had lived long enough to be able to read what the other Paul had to say about “going with the flow” in the light of Christ.  To have the chance to take that thought one step further and know that it’s more than just tolerating life’s trials.  That in Christ he could find strength and even joy in the middle of those circumstances, and even grow through them.

Most of the time, though, I rejoice that my dad was able to escape the suffering of this life and receive his reward just five days after he let Christ into his life.

If he were still here, he’d be 76 today and still trying to figure it all out, just like I am.  But he is home now, and he is ageless, living a life more contentedly than he ever imagined.

I wonder if the two Pauls have met yet.  I can just see them, sitting together, comparing notes, but this time without a care in the world.

Happy Birthday, Dad.

Love,

On Waiting

“Show me Your ways, O Lord; teach me Your paths. Lead me in Your truth, and teach me; for You are the God of my salvation; on You I wait all the day long.”  Psalm 25:4-5

I sat at the intersection waiting to turn right.  There was a boy standing on the corner next to me, violin case in hand.  We both stared at the same red light.  As the light was about to change, traffic had let up and ordinarily I would have jumped at the chance to take my turn. I saw the car behind me and knew the driver would be impatient.  But I waited the few seconds, knowing the boy would step into the intersection any minute. The light turned green and I waited for him to cross.

HONK!!  

I looked in my rear view mirror and saw that look sprawled across her face.  That angry, disgusted, I-have-somewhere-important-to-be look.

The light is green, why don’t you go?

My car and some trees kept her from seeing the boy.

I don’t know if she ever did see him and realize her impetuousness, or if her attitude had gotten her so twisted up and focused on herself that she missed him altogether.

I can be that way sometimes.

I can get that look.

Maybe not always on my face (although I’m sure that happens more than I’d want to admit), but it’s on my heart.  And God sees it.

When I’m waiting for the painful circumstances of my life to change, when I’m waiting for an answer to my prayer, when I’m waiting for someone else to MOVE!

I become impatient. Impetuous.  Rash.  I move when I shouldn’t.  And I make mistakes.

I forget that I’m waiting on God, the Author and Finisher of my faith.

All good authors take time to get the details just right.

And God is a good author.  The best, in fact.

So He waits for circumstances to line up the way they need to be.  He waits for my attitude to change.  He waits for other people around me.  He waits for the timing to be just right.

But I don’t always see what He sees.  Almost never, in fact.

Much of the time I’m so focused on myself and my immediate wants that I can miss the fact that God is doing a work, not just in my life, but in my heart, and even in the people around me, and that takes time.

So He waits for me to look up.

“To you I lift up my eyes, O you who are enthroned in the heavens! Behold, as the eyes of servants look to the hand of their master, as the eyes of a maidservant to the hand of her mistress, so our eyes look to the Lord our God, till he has mercy upon us.” Psalm 123:1-2

Our waiting is not without purpose.

We look to Him, waiting patiently, expectantly, on a loving God to use the circumstances of our lives to mold us into the image of His Son.

We watch Him as He reveals truths, teaches lessons, grows our faith.

We wait and let Him bring us to maturity.

Sometimes the waiting is short and sometimes it’s long.  Very long.  Sometimes the consequences are small, and sometimes they’re bigger than we ever imagined.

I remember another story about a woman in a car.  A woman who loved the Lord with all her heart.  A woman who became impatient.  She sat in traffic behind a row of cars, and she was in  a hurry.  The lane next to hers was a lot shorter, and she was tempted to take it.  She heard the still, small voice of the Holy Spirit telling her to wait.  But she was in such a hurry.  She ignored the small voice and listened to her own.  Quickly she changed lanes to get ahead, but what she didn’t see was a boy crossing the street.  Before she knew it she had hit him.  He died of his injuries.  As I watched her interview, she was overcome with grief.  The thing is, she hadn’t done anything that any of us wouldn’t do.

But God saw what she didn’t, and He lovingly, patiently, tried to warn her.

Just like He tries to warn us and teach us.  The question is: are we going to listen?  Are we going to be the sheep who walk off a cliff, or who hear His voice and follow Him?  (John 10:27)

We think we know what’s best, but we don’t. Only God sees the future.  And He has much to say to us, to show us, to teach us, if we will only look up and listen to His still, small voice.

Eyes on the Ball

“Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.” 2 Corinthians 4:16-18

“Keep your eyes on the ball!”
 

I don’t know how many times I heard those words lobbed to me as I stood at home plate, bat in my little hands, waiting for the pitcher to underhand the softball in my direction.

But I could never do it.  The ball became nothing but a blur as it spinned toward me, and then past me.  I simply could not get a fix on that little white ball.

Had I loved sports (instead of being forced to do my time by the Department of Education) I could have practiced and learned how to focus my eyes and maybe even make contact.

Learning to focus on anything, foregoing all the distractions, takes practice.

Even focusing on the Lord takes patience and lots and lots of practice. Without focus on Him, everything becomes a blur, and we forget our purpose–to glorify God in all we do.

But we first have to love Him, and in order to love Him, we have to know Him.

We have to forego other things in order to spend with Him, practicing His presence, hearing His voice.

But so much…life….can get in the way.

So much of our pains and sorrows and worries and temptations and earthly goals take us away from our time with the Lord.  Maybe we’ve been offended by God and we’ve allowed that to create distance.  Maybe it’s sin we’ve allowed to settle in our lives.  An unforgiveness.  A bitterness.  Maybe we’ve just let the little daily urgencies of life keep pushing out what’s most important.   

We can forget that those things that trouble us are not the problem, but only a temporary tool used in the hands of a loving and gracious God to bring us to full maturity.  We can forget that He is fully capable of handling them and that we don’t need to let them overcome us.  We can place them at Jesus’ feet and look into His eyes.

We can choose to take our eyes off those things…off the crowd, off the other team, off the world…and put them back on Jesus.  Back on the ball.  Only then will we find success—peace and joy and real love–in the kingdom of God.  Only then will we be able lay up real treasures in heaven where this life will be but a distant memory, and eternity will be more real than this life ever was, where our reward is waiting with Him.

I love how Francis Chan puts it in this short video:

Blessings and Peace,