Month: December 2015

Father, I have in Christ the hope of glory.  Hallelujah! 

When I was a boy, I always looked forward with great anticipation to Christmas.  I still do.  Maybe I am still a boy (my wife says it is so), but Christmas is such a special time. I was talking with a guy at work last week.  He and his wife are looking forward to a trip to Europe this summer, and we talked about their plans.  Because I rub elbows with so many in the university, I often encounter people looking forward to graduation or to the beginning of their master’s or Phd in the fall.  Looking to the future is part of life.  You and I do it quite a bit; we know what it is like.  Indeed, everyone does it at some point.  We look forward to family trips, new jobs, summer break, big games, getting off crutches, wedding days, due dates, birthdays, holidays, Friday night and much more.  We understand what it is like to look eagerly to the future.

For the people of God, this sort of experience is part of the fabric of life, for they live with an eager expectation of eternity.  They have an inheritance awaiting them in heaven, and they know it.  They have a future existence in which their pain will be gone forever and their joy will know no end, and they know it.  They have an everlasting life with God, a real future, and they know it.

The term the Bible uses to describe this expectation of the future is “hope.”  Christians live life on Earth with hope.  They suffer from disease, injury, rejection, and persecution, but they have hope.  They understand that while this Earth is temporary, their inheritance is not.  Jesus’ followers live for the hope of eternity.

Now Biblical hope is somewhat different from the popular meanings of hope.  Sometimes we say, “I hope it will rain tomorrow.”  What we mean is “I would like it to rain.”  This sense is not what Biblical hope is even though it does involve something we desire.  We also say, “She has lost all hope.”  By that we mean “she is in despair.”  Hope and despair are opposites.  This is getting closer, for Biblical hope certainly opposes despair, but even this is incomplete.

The hope we see in the Bible is not a wish but a confidence, and it does not just alleviate despair.  It produces joy.  Thus, when God’s people show hope in heaven, they are not just wanting it to be so.  They are living with full assurance that heaven is their home, and such assurance brings them great delight.  Like faith, hope entails a certainty of things not seen, and like joy, it brings great delight to the soul.  Hope is in the same family as faith and joy; all three share the same spiritual DNA, but the focus of hope is always the future.

Hope rests in God.  Followers of Jesus do not place their hope in the stock market, their bank accounts, their spouses, the hospital, or the next election.  All those things will eventually fail to fulfill our deepest desires, but God does not.

Hope changes everything because, like faith, it changes our perspective of Earth.  Diabetes looks different when we know it is temporary.  Being spurned for a promotion looks different when our hope is not in our job.  Even death looks different when we see it as the birth canal for glory.

Hope affects how we live in the world.  If it never does so, it is not hope.  The critique that Christians are so heavenly minded that they are of no earthly good is a misunderstanding of hope.  Our hope of glory makes us want to live in purity now.  Our knowledge that all tears will be wiped away makes us want to wipe away tears now.  Our certainty of life after death gives us a greater boldness in life now.  People who think on heaven do more good for God on Earth now than those who never think on heaven at all.  Imagine being in an army and knowing you were going to win the war.  It would change your morale now, and if you held such a hope properly, it would make you a bolder warrior now.  The world does not suffer from people who think too much on heaven.  It suffers from people who think too little on it.

When the hope of glory gets lost in the matrix of life, we lose one of the chief sources of richness in life.  Hope for eternity makes life now truly alive.  When our eye is focused merely on the daily shuffle of responsibilities, they lose their meaning.  The same is true when we are focused merely on the next ten years or fifty.  The hope of glory changes all that.  A follower of Jesus sees eternity and knows the final outcome of his or her life, and that confidence changes everything.  Now.

Father, praise you for the inner power of joy that flows in me through Christ and through Christ alone.

I proposed to Leanne at Christmas.  I was actually sick at the time and felt miserable, but when she said “yes,” my misery didn’t matter.  I rejoiced, and my mom threw a big dinner party to celebrate.  Later we had children.  Upon receiving news that we were pregnant with child #1 and then #2, and then #3, we called our friends and family because we couldn’t help it.  We were elated.  And nine months later, when Charissa, Matthew, and Rebekah were born, we did the same thing again.   Marriages and babies bring joy.  Graduations bring joy.  Promotions, awards, championships, scholarships, all these and more bring joy.

Joy is the most natural response to good news.  Consequently, the people of Jesus have great joy because in Jesus they have great news. Their sin is wiped away.  Death is destroyed.  They have a Father who greatly loves them and who will provide their every need.  They have a future and an inheritance that surpasses their wildest dreams.  They have a purpose in God.  They have peace.

All these benefits are ours in Christ, and, by themselves, they are reasons for great joy.  If people rejoice when they pay off their mortgage, how much more ought they rejoice when their deepest debt is gone, and they are completely free for eternity?  And still God’s people have an even bigger reason for joy than these blessings.  They have Jesus.  And because they have Jesus, they have His joy.  “These things I have spoken to you, that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be full,” he said (Jn 15:11).  Joy is a normal part of life with Jesus.  It is a mark of a follower of Christ.

C.S. Lewis was surprised by this aspect of Christianity. He wasn’t expecting such joy, but there it was.  Joni Eareckson Tada sings of God’s goodness from her wheelchair.  Corrie Ten Boom rejoices in the God whose love she saw in the deepest, darkest hole of a Nazi concentration camp.  Paul tells the Philippians to “rejoice in the Lord always,” and he does so while he is in chains in a prison cell.

You have see people who are outgoing and bubbly.  On the outside they seem joyful, but that is not necessarily the joy of Christ.  The joy of Christ transcends personality.

The joy of Christ is stronger than the sufferings of earth.  It’s like Leanne saying “yes” when I was sick.  Physically I was still sick.  Her acceptance of my proposal did not heal my flu.  I still had to suffer through it, but her answer gave me a different perspective on my sufferings.  The news was so great that my view of suffering changed.  The joy of Christ is this way.  The sufferings of earth are real.  God’s people still hurt and get sad.  They wrestle with anger, bitterness, pain and sorrow, some more than others, but deep down, underneath the rejection, the cancer, the injustice and betrayal — down in the foundation of the heart lies the joy of Christ.  It’s like an underground spring that is flowing, often unseen, waiting to bubble to the surface.  The joy of Christ is not naïve.  It is joy in the full face of the pain of earth.  It is not a simplistic “Just be happy” mindset.  It goes deeper than that.  It flows from Christ, and because it flows from Christ, it flows from the very rock on which we stand.  It sees the pain, but it also sees the glory that will dissolve all pain.

Some of God’s people see this joy more than others, but all of God’s people have access to it, even when they lose their job or their child.

Father, by Your great grace, grant me an all-consuming love for Christ, a love that transforms not just my feelings but my life. 

Everyone wants love, but few ever find it.  We talk about it.  We sing songs about it.  We write poetry about it.  We give seminars on it.  But much of what we call love is more like emotional candy. 

 Jesus speaks of love.  He says that love for God is the greatest commandment.  When He says this, He is not talking about the passions of a brief fling or the indulgence of earthly pleasure.  Indeed, the love Jesus talks about fulfills God’s commands.  To Jesus, love obeys God.  To Jesus, love lays down its life. To Jesus, love involves heart, soul, mind, and strength.  To Jesus, love is multifaceted and deep. 

If we love God, here is some of what it looks like. 

We are patient with God.  We are willing to wait for God to do His will in His time.  We do not demand that God give us today the job we want.  We do not expect God to explain all of our questions now.  We wait for God.  We wait for Him to provide, for Him to save a friend, for Him to explain why.  This is part of loving God.

We are kind to God.  We always talk about God being kind to us (and it is true), but are we kind to God?  Do we respect what He says in Scripture or do we change it?  Do we spend time loving our Master or do we have too many other things going on?  When we are kind, we do not badmouth God’s ways. We may not understand those ways.  We may see that God’s ways run counter to our culture, but we accept them anyway.  It is not kind to turn our backs on what God has said simply because our culture pressures us.  That would be unloving. 

We do not desire what God has.  For example, God has the right to run the world.  We do not.  Many people, however, desire to run their world and their family’s world too.  When we want to be in charge of our lives, we envy the position God has, and when we desire what God has, we are never satisfied.  When we love God, however, we are content not being God.  We are content simply because we are God’s children.  This flows from the love of God.

We do not boast or exalt ourselves before God.  We understand that He is God and we are not.  Love for God shows itself in humility before God.

We do not insist that God grant our desires or that God operate the way we would like Him to.  We understand that God is not our waiter catering to our every desire.  We exist for Him.  Indeed, when we love God, our desires change.  We want to see His desires manifest in our lives.  We want to see His kingdom spread across the earth.  We want to see His will carried out among us.  When we love God, our desires are transformed from a selfish focus on our own little world to an undying passion to see the glory of God on Earth. 

We rejoice in God’s truth.  His Scriptures are a fountain of joy.  We do not merely accept them.  We exult over them.  “The precepts of the Lord are right, rejoicing the heart.”  (Ps 19:8)  Conversely, this means that we do not rejoice in sin.  If we love God, we do not celebrate or our justify sin.  Instead we repent of it. The man who celebrates the money he gained by deception is not showing love for God.  The woman who justifies her lesbian relationship is not showing love for God, for love does not rejoice in wrongdoing.  Love for God is never divorced from Scripture, for God delights in the truth of Scripture.  And so should we. 

We bear hardship and endure all things for God.  Jesus said, “Blessed are you when people insult you and persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me.”  (Mt 5:11)  Those who reject God insult those who love God.  This was true in Jesus’ day, and it is still true today.  God’s people today face mockery, adverse public opinion, rejection from parents and friends, job discrimination, jail, beatings, even death.  They endure these things because of their love for God.  When a woman loves her husband, sometimes she must endure hardship because of him.  Mrs. Martin Luther King had to suffer along with Mr. Martin Luther King.  She shows her loyalty by enduring the suffering.  Love for God is no different.  We endure insults and sufferings because of our love.

We believe God even when we don’t fully understand.  Love breeds trust.  We trust God because we know His character.  We may not know whether our daughter will make it through surgery or whether we will ever marry, but we know God.  We believe He is good — even when our daughter dies in surgery.  In addition, we believe what God has said in Scripture.  It is really rather silly for me to say that I love my wife if I do not believe what she says. So it is when we love God.  We believe what Scripture says.  This is part of loving God.

We put our hope in God.  We know that in Christ we have a glorious future and that God is for us.  This means that we do not look to our 401k for our future security.  It means that our health does not determine our future.  It means that a Phd, a promotion, an award, or a lovely family is not where our hope lies.  If we love God, He is our hope and He is our future.

 Love for God lasts.  It is not fickle like the wind, always changing directions.  When we love God, we are committed to Him. But love for God is not a dry, stale obedience, a mere act of the will and nothing else.  Love for God rejoices and sings. Love for God has great affection for God, great passion for Him.  It is sweet and strong and rich.  It is not a nebulous, objectless feeling but is focused on the Beloved.  Love for God frees us.  It raises us up above ourselves and enables us to attempt great things that we would never think of doing on our own.  God’s people yearn for God.  They want to see Him, to be with Him, to talk to Him, to know Him. 

The feelings of love may fluctuate, just as they do in a marriage. But the commitment of love remains, just as it does in a good marriage.  And though feelings may come and go with the moment, over time they grow.

 Genuine love for God affects our hearts, thoughts, decisions, and lives.  It pulls us toward righteousness like a great magnet, and it flows through our souls like blood.  It comes from God, and it leads us higher and higher into the heights of God.  It rests in the heart.  Indeed, if it is not in the heart, it is not love. 

Lord, you test my heart by putting me under authority.  I wrestle with obedience.  But you are gracious.  Grant me a heart willing to yield to You above all and to those you have put over me.

Sometimes American movies can be predictable. A typical plotline goes something like this. A powerful authority perpetuates some injustice — let’s say racial discrimination. A common person gets caught up in the injustice and wants to change it. This person then stands proudly defiant against a corrupt system or a powerful leader, experiences many struggles, but in the end prevails. Events vindicate him.

These are America’s heroes, and these heroes say something about America. We like our heroes to rebel. Even when those in power are truly unjust and the hero is in the right, he often resists in the wrong way, for he often demonstrates a defiance that Lucifer himself would be proud of. The externals are gold. The attitude is poison. Many of our heroes do not know how to stand against authority because they do not know how to obey it. A rebel is the least qualified person to rebel.

Some things have a way of revealing the nature of a heart. Authority is one of those things. The universe is founded on authority, and all lesser authorities, like husbands, fathers, governments, elders, and employers, derive their authority from God. Consequently, our attitude toward authority reveals much about our attitude toward God.

David would not lift his hand against the king who wanted to kill him. Saul may have been a coward and a wicked man, but he was still “the Lord’s anointed.” David could have killed Saul in the cave. Instead, he cut off a corner of Saul’s garment, and that very act smote David’s conscience. His spirit was sensitive to authority. Ours is not. David would not criticize the leader who wanted to kill him. We criticize a leader who has a style different from our own. David feared God. We often do not.

This issue of authority and our response to it is enormous because the central conflict of the human race is this: who is in charge? You and I answer that question a thousand times a day. Our choices answer it. Our attitude towards the current government, our talk about a teacher or boss, our willingness or reluctance to listen to the Spirit of God, all these show daily who we really think is in charge. The human heart, at its core, wants to be in charge. It wants to be like the Most High. That is why the human heart, in its natural state, will not follow Christ.

The proper response to authority is obedience, respect, and submission. We cringe when we hear those words. The cringing itself communicates a bias and a heart attitude. Something inside us does not want to submit. What then will we do when we meet the One before whom the only proper response is to fall on our faces? Obedience, respect, and submission must be the default heart attitude toward authority. If we will not submit to our employer whom we can see, then we will not submit to God whom we cannot see. If we are quick to stretch local laws to suit ourselves, then we will be quick to stretch the Bible to suit ourselves. If we disrespect our president because we do not like his policies, we will be apt to disrespect God because we do not like His policies.

Scripture does talk about a time to disobey earthly authority (e.g. Acts 4:19-20), but such disobedience is the exception, not the norm.  Too often we make it the norm. 

In the army I worked under authority.  I was a company executive officer with a company commander over me, and a battalion commander over him, and a brigade commander over him, and a division commander over him, and so on.  Everyone is under authority.  If my division commander (a general) and my company commander (a captain) had told me to do opposite things, obviously I would need to obey my division commander, for he has a higher authority.  That situation would be rare.  The norm, however, is that my division commander would expect all the soldiers under him to obey their local chain of command.  It would be no contradiction for him to say to me, “Obey your captain.”  In fact, if I disobeyed my captain, I would be subject to military discipline, and the general would uphold it, for when I disobeyed my captain, I disobeyed the entire authority structure, of which the general is a part. 

Authority in the real world is like this.  God is like the commander in chief.  My government is a captain. A father at home is a colonel.  God wants me to obey and respect my captain and colonel because when I do, I am showing respect to authority, and He is the ultimate authority.  I may disobey my captain or colonel only in those rare circumstances when they tell me to do something that contradicts what a higher authority has declared.

This is why our response to authority is so important.  Authority represents God.  We yield as if yielding to God (Eph 5:22; 6:5). 

When you see genuine respect for authority, you are seeing a heart attitude that God delights in, but when you see people continually gripe about those over them, you are seeing an attitude that does not come from God.  Either way, you are glimpsing the heart.  

Father, I am weak and sinful apart from you.  I fall and fall again, and I don’t want that kind of life.  Grant my heart a right passion for you and grant me your view of my sin that I may repent when it is time to repent and pursue you in purity.

Sin has a revelatory power to it, for perhaps nothing shows the nature of our hearts more than our reaction to our own sin.  I have seen men have affairs against their wives and then defend their actions.  I have seen children lie to their parents and then boast about it to their friends.  In each case, the second sin reveals a heart much worse than the first; for the second sin shows that the cancer has taken over the heart.  The second sin shows the real person.

In Jesus’ parable, when the tax collector prayed, he beat his chest and pleaded for mercy.  God likes that kind of prayer.  But we are uncomfortable with it. We don’t want to get too carried away. 

Alan knocked on my apartment door.  He was a friend and we often would jog together, but this visit was a surprise.  We talked small talk in my living room before I asked, “So, what brings you here?” 

He indicated that he needed to talk to me about something and could we go somewhere.  We left my apartment and went walking down by the pool and found a picnic table where we sat down.  We were the only ones in the area.  I asked him again what was up.

With broken speech and great tears, he confessed that he had lost his virginity that week.

Kent attended a large church in San Antonio. He was married but was living with a girlfriend. A couple men and I went to talk to him about his situation, but he saw nothing wrong with his behavior. Eventually he left his wife.

Kent and Alan were different men. Their sins may have been similar, but their responses were not. One was broken-hearted. One was defiant. I reminded Alan of God’s rich forgiveness. I could do no such thing for Kent.

God isn’t looking for people who want to justify their sin.  When we have the heart of God, we are broken over our sin. 

King David committed adultery and then murder to cover up his adultery, yet he is called a man after God’s own heart.  It is not David’s sin that shows this heart.  It is his response to it.  He wept over it.  He knew he had sinned against God.  Many may sin as David sinned, but few ever repent as David repented.  

I met an old friend a few months ago.  We talked in a coffee shop.  It had been years since I had seen him, but I felt an immediate bond.  As we talked about our families and the things God had been doing with us since the old days, he told me about a parent who had deeply hurt him.  His parents had gotten divorced, and his dad had married another woman.  My friend said that he harbored anger and bitterness over his dad’s actions and that God had to show him his heart toward his dad and his dad’s new wife.  God called my friend to repent of his attitude and treatment of them.  He had to change, and he did. 

I could relate.  I once had to seek forgiveness from my own father for the way I had treated him.  Indeed, I have had to repent of attitudes toward bosses, behavior toward workmates, arguments with family members and more.  Repentance is central to following God.  All who belong to Jesus experience it.  Repentance is the proper heart response to sin.  It is humility applied to our own sin.  Because God is passionate about transforming His people, He insists on calling them to repentance.  If you have never had to repent, I wonder if you understand anything about God. 

God’s people properly lament their sin.  Our hearts hurt when we see the hurt we bring to others.  Our hearts hurt when we see the damage we have done to ourselves and to our relationship with God.  Our hearts want to change when we see what our hearts really are.  This is basic to Christianity.  Faith affects our heart relationship with sin. 

This world wants us to be comfortable in sin.  But the Holy Spirit brings conviction to the heart.  God’s people may wrestle with specific sins and fall many times, but we know that this fight is a battle we must wage, for we see the ugliness of our own sin and deeply yearn for the righteousness of God.  Repentance comes from a passion for righteousness.  When we are comfortable in our sin, we care little about righteousness.  God, however, is zealous for it.  And so are his people. 

Repentance, of course, is bigger than lamenting sin.  When Jesus tells people to repent, He is telling them to turn away from sin and to God.  Such a turning is more than merely feeling sorry.  We can sometimes feel sorry without ever changing.  Yet repentance that does not feel anything is not repentance.  Repentance must come from the heart.  God works from the inside out, and He wants us broken over our sin.  Such brokenness makes God glad, for then the potter can take the shards of our souls and recreate in us His image and make us His masterpiece. 

Lord, you see me as I truly am. Open the eyes of my heart and allow me to see myself as I truly am.

Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of God.” People who follow Jesus see from the heart their own spiritual poverty. The bulk of humanity, however, wants to hold onto a vestige of goodness within themselves. Others within the church sometimes pay lip service to their spiritual bankruptcy. They acknowledge it intellectually as a doctrine, but they do not see it from the heart.  Until this truth hits our heart, we do not have humility.

God reserves His blessings for the poor in spirit because they are the most honest people. The woman who recognizes that she has nothing to bring to God and who humbles herself before Him actually sees reality. She honestly believes what is true. God likes that.

“Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.” People who follow Jesus do not put themselves forward. One cannot follow Jesus and exalt self simultaneously. Of course, we struggle with this, but a heart touched by the Spirit of God knows enough of its own sin to not be pushy. It knows it is not worthy enough to demand its own way. It grows gentler.

The humble man “does not concern himself with great matters or things too wonderful” for him. Humility does not have to know everything. A humble man sees realistically the limits of his own knowledge and abilities. He does not demand that God explain why Mom suffered so much before she died. He does not require that God provide more evidence before he will believe. He does not have to know the answer to the dilemma between free will and predestination. He does not need to have the future mapped out. He does not have to know “why” before he obeys. He does not read the Bible in order to gather answers or understand subtleties. He reads the Bible in order to see God and to live a more holy life.

The humble man acknowledges that he will never understand many issues, and he is OK with that. Arrogance insists that God reveal things that people were never intended to fully know.  Arrogance  is never satisfied, never at peace.

A father said to his young daughter, “I don’t want you to play in Serena’s yard anymore.”

“Why?” she asked.

“I can’t tell you why,” the father said, for she could not understand even if she was told.

The daughter could demand that her father tell her before she obeyed.  Or she could trust him. Humility trusts even when it does not understand. The humble man submits to God. The one who is content not knowing everything, thus, understands more than the one who must know it all, for you will not learn of God until you trust Him.

The humble man is “like a weaned child with its mother.” He is able to still and quiet his soul. Humility is quiet and strong. It is strong because it honestly sees its own weakness. Humility brings great peace. It brings peace because it is open to God. Humility rejoices the heart. It does so because it takes the focus of the heart off of self, and self inhibits joy. Humble people are the freest, most secure, and happiest people on Earth. They do not pretend to be great, and so they can be themselves before God. And when you can be yourself before God, then you are free to love your neighbor.

Father, My own heart is too often distracted from You and wants to find its pleasure in Earth. 

Forgive me, as I know You do, and grant me a heart that will find its greatest satisfaction and joy in You alone. 

There was once a king who sent a message to his servants graciously inviting them to dine with him in his inner chamber.  Some servants thought, “I cannot go until I have finished this urgent matter of the king’s business,” for they feared to face their king with their work undone.  Others said, “Surely the king would never send such an invitation as this,” and they stayed away, thinking themselves clever to have avoided a big joke.  Others, in the midst of life, simply forgot.  Still others came with selfish motives, wishing to gain a special favor for themselves.  But a few servants said to themselves, “I will go and get to love my master. God calls us to be those few servants.

    God means us to enjoy Him.  Somewhere in our culture, this fact got lost.  We enjoy our food and our entertainment, our friends and our family, but we do not enjoy God.  We have it backwards. 

“Delight yourself in the Lord,” the Scripture says.  “Love the Lord your God,” it commands.  “Rejoice in the Lord, always.”  Some Christians want to follow God without ever enjoying Him.  They miss the point.  God doesn’t want our work.  He wants us.  Jesus wants us as a groom desires his bride.  And we are to desire Him with that same passion.   

It is true that we are to serve Christ as a bride serves her husband, but the bride who best serves her husband is the one who most loves and enjoys him. 

It is true that we are to obey Christ as a soldier obeys his commander, but the soldier who best obeys is the one who most loves. 

It is true that we are to work for a kingdom, but the one who works with the most passion is the one who has the greatest passion for the king.

True religion does involve following and obeying Jesus, but first it involves adoring and enjoying Him. 

Some within Christian churches want the work without the worship.  Not only is their work of little effect, but their lives are empty.  Work never fulfills.  Even Christian work never fulfills.  Only God satisfies. 

Some people have heard that God satisfies, but they have not experienced it.  It is like the difference between hearing the Hallelujah Chorus performed live or hearing someone talk about it.  God wants us to enjoy Him live and not just hear about it.  Many people in many churches have heard glorious truths about God without ever experiencing God Himself. They can quote chapter and verse about holiness, but they have never personally seen the beauty of it.  They can tell you all about the Cross without ever taking up their own.  They can pretend to be satisfied because they have heard about such a thing.  They can muster up pleasant feelings because they have heard some truth about God, but they do not enjoy Him.  They are like people who see and read about an actor and fall in love with him without ever meeting him.  They love their poster on the wall, but they know nothing about the real thing. 

God calls us to Himself.  David writes, “Know that the Lord has set apart the godly for himself.” (Ps 4:3)    And when we know God, we can say with David, “You have filled my heart with greater joy than when their grain and new wine abound.” (Ps 4:7)

In my own life, the biggest obstacle to enjoying God seems to be enjoying Earth.  I find that my own self gets in the way.  I would rather listen to music or watch a football game or see a movie than enjoy God.  Of course, all of those activities can be legitimate in and of themselves.  Certainly I can enjoy God and do those things.  It’s not that they are bad.  It’s that they get in the way. 

I live in an entertainment culture.  I find that my culture appeals to my flesh and calls me away, but that God appeals to my spirit and likewise calls me away.  I find that enjoying God takes time and requires me to intentionally say “no” to things that are otherwise legitimate.  God is jealous of my time.  He doesn’t want the TV or a book to replace Him in my schedule.  He doesn’t want me to be so busy at work that I have no time for Him.  He calls me to Him and says, “Enjoy me.” If I want to spend my time enjoying Earth, He’ll let me, but I’ve made a bad trade.  Sometimes legitimate things turn into idols.  Sometimes they are hindrances, but I am to “set aside every hindrance … and run the race.” 

I find that when I make God the priority, I actually enjoy work or wholesome entertainment much more.  The enjoyment of God enhances the enjoyment of Earth.  But the pursuit of Earth robs me from enjoying God, which in turn robs me from enjoying Earth.  It’s strange.  When I pursue God, I gain Earth as well.  When I pursue Earth, I lose it.

No one will enjoy God who will not spend time with Him.  We live in the era of the quick everything.  Quick information, quick banking, quick travel, and, yes, quick devotions.  We snatch our few minutes reading the Bible and perhaps shooting up a prayer and then get on with the business of the day. This practice is not conducive to enjoying anything.  When we enjoy, we want to linger.  God wants us to bathe ourselves in His presence and not just wash our hands at His sink.

It’s not that our devotion is measured in minutes.  We can spend three hours a day reading the Bible and still have a dry, cold heart.  It’s that our devotion reflects our priorities.  “Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”  If we enjoy God, if we treasure him, we want to be with Him.  But often we treasure other things instead.  We allow Earth to call us away.  We listen to the Siren’s song of work and pleasure and never quite disentangle ourselves from it. It destroys us, not with its evil, but with its beauty, and we spend our days on a desert island instead of by the fires of home.  We have no time for God.  Consequently, we do not enjoy Him as He would like. 

The head and the heart had a conversation.

“I am more important than you,” boasted the head to the heart.  “I can discern truth without your help, but you can’t feel anything without the information I provide.”

“Oh really?” asked the heart.  “Tell me, what do you know about loving Madeleine?”

The head thought about it a minute, then replied.  “I know it’s morally correct.”

“I see,” said the heart.  “And tell me, what do you know about pain?”

“I know it’s quite inconvenient.”

“I see,” said the heart.  “And tell me, what do you know of fear, arrogance, lust or greed that you did not learn from me?”

The head was silent, so the heart continued.  “And tell me, what do you know of joy, courage, or contentment that I have not helped you see?” 

Again the head was silent.

“You boast against me,” said the heart.  “But where do you think your boasting came from?”

Jesus calls us to follow Him, but no one will ever follow Him in merely an intellectual way.  We are, after all, human beings.  If we want to understand the Christian faith, we must begin with the issue of our own hearts.  Jesus calls us to humility, repentance, and faith, and those issues are precisely heart issues.  No one understands them without first having a certain kind of heart.  This may seem overly simple, but it touches us where it hurts most.  It gets at our dreams and our sorrows, our pleasures and our pains, our freedom and our bondage.  The heart touches us where we live in a way the head cannot. 

Our hearts determine how we look at the world, at ourselves, and at God.  Two women ask the same question:  “Why did my baby die?”  Both are in pain, both may be angry, neither understands, but behind the same question lie two different attitudes.  One asks with humility; the other to attack.  One openly and honestly expresses her grief and anger to God.  The other bitterly accuses.  The difference between the two women has nothing to do with the content of their question and everything to do with the state of their hearts. 

Our hearts determine who we really are.  “As a man thinks in his heart, so is he,” the proverb says.  “The fool says in his heart, ‘There is no god.’”  Whatever we believe about God, we believe because our hearts have helped us believe it.  We have become largely what our hearts have allowed us to become.   

The heart is the soil in which the words of God must grow.  Hard soil or shallow soil will not let the words grow.  The shallow “Christianity” we see so abundant around us is a result of shallow hearts.  Many people in the average church content themselves with outward things.  They come on Sunday, maybe they read the Bible and give some money, but God wants more than that.  Too often we are outwardly busy but inwardly bankrupt.  We give God rituals but will not yield our hearts.  Spiritually speaking, we are like a hamster on the wheel, running, running, running, but never going anywhere.  For in the spiritual realm, we never get anywhere with God until we give Him the heart.

As Christians, we are to look beyond the camera. We understand that the kingdom of God does not come through Congress. As Christians, we know that our real help lies outside the political arena. Armies move, but God protects or destroys.

The people of this world cannot see God, so they will not look to Him. Our temptation is to look where everyone else is looking, like the woman who looks into the sky just because everyone else is looking into the sky.
But God calls us to be different. He says that He, and not Congress, is our help; that He, and not the stock market, is our help; that He, and not the medical system, is our help. Until we see the power of God behind everything, we will constantly be looking to the wrong sources for our deliverance and joy.