Devotional

The Prayer Series // Bloddy Friday

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The human condition stems from rebellion. In Eden, rebellion broke perfection and shattered the world. We inherited the rebellion. Humankind lives now as hardened rebels, crashing into one another on planet earth. The pieces from our collisions stab and hurt us.

As rebels our sentence is: guilty, death. We wince at this truth. Some speak of our condition as brokenness. Brokenness, however, stands as a result of rebellion. Yes you and I are broken, but we are sinners, rebels, first. We should take care not to remove culpability from sin, lest the point of salvation moves from being about Christ to being about our own desire for wholeness.

"Our motive for surrender should not be for any personal gain at all," writes Oswald Chambers. "We have become so self-centered that we go to God only for something from him, and not for God himself."

Salvation is not about us and not about our desire to be whole. It is about Christ, himself. "I am the Way!" says Jesus to Thomas.

That Way led an uprising in Jerusalem. Nationals desired a ruling messiah. But they received the Messiah—Immanuel. He walked among us and offered a way out of rebellion.

Perhaps the seeking person attending on Sunday desires another way. The brokenness and confusion and ultimate let down of a world gone to hell overwhelms their heart. What would they want—need to hear and see from us, the Family of God?

Imagine, Jesus taking the stage on Sunday, addressing us all—rebel-saints.

"You, my son, my daughter, you wandered in here confused. You're looking for something else, something other than what the world offers.

"But you can't get past the brokenness, the disappointment and the pain. I want to tell you something. I fed the 5,000 for you to show you how I alone can provide all your needs. I walked on water to show you what it takes to follow me—you must step out of your boat and walk in the way most unknown.

"I healed the blind so you could see me. I held off the stone-throwers so you could turn from the way of pain and follow me.

"This morning you look for a way. I am The Way. In this Way you'll find righteousness, 'a righteousness from God that comes through faith in Me to all who believe.' Believe in Me today. Do a one-eighty on the path you're on and yoke up with me—it's easy, the burden is light. It's light because I carry it for you."

We fall into wholeness on the other side of the cross, the empty tomb. We step into wholeness by way of belief and that step is the most dangerous. And it is also the most glorious.

"Genuine total surrender is a personal sovereign preference for Jesus Christ Himself," says Chambers.

Today, we remember Golgotha. The day Jesus became a whore, a murderer, a thief, a liar, a swindler, an adulterer and the Father turned from Him. Darkness covered the earth. The temple veil ripped. The dead woke and proclaimed Jesus as the Son of God.

On this day Jesus ended the rebellion and paved the way to glory through the crimson wood and dirt on the place of the skull. Salvation draws us to Him. It will draw the visitors on Sunday to him. It changed the world. For He Himself is salvation. He alone is the Way.

The Prayer Series // Our Shining North

I was tutored in Greek back in 2001. I walked into Dr. Randolph's humble home and sat down next to him at his computer. He set the font size at 300%. It was huge. His eyes were ailing, but his brain was sharp as a razor.

Before we began our session he said, "Tim, do you know why we study the Greek language?"

"No," I said.

"We study the Greek because we love the Word."

I didn't reply. I just listened.

"We study language because we love the Word of God," he repeated.

I nodded, giving him my ascent, and we began our session. We only met for a few sessions, and then I was off to the next thing. But when I nodded, I lied. I didn't love the Word of God, and I knew it. I knew it as soon as he made the statement. I wanted to know for knowing's sake. How embarrassing.

Dr. Randolph passed away years ago. So many people grieved his death. He lived his life in love with the Word of God. This no one would dispute. I knew him before our session. But having personal interaction with him made his passing so much harder; especially since I came to him for "learning" when he wanted to fuel my passion for the Word.

I will never forget his statement.

Say what you want about he History Channel's rendition of The Bible. I will tell you this. As I watched I choked back tears almost the whole time. My wife noticed. She asked, "Why are you crying?"

All I could think about were Dr. Randolph's words: "We study Greek because we love the Word of God. Do you love the Word of God, Tim?"

As I stared at the screen watching Abraham tie up Isaac, preparing to gut him for the sacrifice, my eyes filled up. And when my wife asked me why I was crying I could finally answer Dr. Randolph's question truthfully:

"Because, I love The Word," I said to her.She did not reply. We both kept watching.

John The Beloved wrote, "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God." When I replay Dr Randolph's question to me I hear this: "Tim, do you love the Christ, the Son of the living God?"

And then, I hear my response: "No, Dr. Randolph. I do not. I only want to know in order to fulfill my pride, to fulfill an obligation, to look smart around others."

Time has ticked on since then. And now I read the popular blogs and articles and commentary and cultural hoo-ha and I wonder who among us loves the Word.

Do you love the Word? Is it living and breathing in your brain right now? Or do you crack your Bible only to know or for selfish comfort? The Word, the logos, shines as our north star in this life. But it's difficult to follow something we don't love. Do you love the Word of God? Do you love, the Christ? 

May this be our daily prayer: I will meditate on your precepts and fix my eyes on your ways. I will delight in your statutes; I will not forget your word. (Psalm 119:15,16)

The Prayer Series // Strength Through Confession

​Brothers and sisters, what power does confession hold? It holds the power to bind us close to one another. It holds the power to renew our relationship with the Lord Jesus.

John the Beloved reminds us to confess our sins because the act of confession can refresh our fellowship with God and one another.

Too often we think confession entails unloading some big sin. But though confession might entail such an unloading, it actually begins simply. It begins with the awareness to see how we have caused a rift or mistreated or in some way wronged a brother or sister or the Lord.

Moses said, "When you become aware of your guilt in any of these ways, you must confess your sins." (Lev. 5:5)

Confession also includes a toppling of pride. Think about it. Why don't we confess to one another? Because our pride tells us we have nothing to confess, or that whatever we have to confess will be too embarrassing, or that we will lose control of a position of power. Pride lies and dupes us to live a lie. Such is not life, but a heavy existence of guilt.

"When I refused to confess my sin," wrote David, "my body wasted away and I groaned all day long. My strength evaporated like water in the summer heat." (Ps. 32:3,4)

The act of confession draws us toward one another. But we fail to take that first step toward fellowship. All it takes is seven words: I was wrong, will you forgive me. A confession!

Think about how sweet your friendships would be if confession and forgiveness were our common language. Imagine how our marriages might shine if confession and forgiveness replaced pride and selfishness.

James gives us this prayer: Lord Jesus, help me confess my sins to you and those whom I love. Strengthen me to pray for them so that we find healing.  (James 5:16)

The Prayer Series // Hear My Heart O Lord

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I know, Lord. I know. But I can't see that far. I know you hold it all, all of it. But I want to hold it before I believe it. Can I do that? Can I hold it first?

I know you're capable to supply the need. And, I don't mind asking. But my belief wavers. My mind cries out, and scrambles to the closest worldly anchor—well, for a time they feel like anchors, all those things I think I control. And when I consider this and that, I doubt, I doubt, I doubt—my direction, my calling. What if my faith veers me and I don't know it? What if my intentions, which I think true, are really clouded with pride?

Oh my God, why do I stumble over my own feet? Why do I foster a spirit of fear—the bedfellow of doubt? Where does fear fit in with my relationship with you?

Forgive my selfishness and worrying heart. Forgive my shortsightedness. Even though I stumble over my weak heart I cannot fall far from your mercy. Your graciousness picks me up and I, once again life.

Your words to Isaiah comfort me. Your arm is not too short to save. I create the barrier, I build the wall—me and my sin. I lose sight of Your vision for me, how you desire my triumph. I sit making mud pies when the vineyard sprawls just beyond the bend. Why can't I see?

But you opened my eyes, O Lord! I see the veil hiding me from you. Of course You hear me. Of course You possess the strength to save. Your beauty, to me, is your steadfastness. You can't disown yourself. Even when I stammer in my faithlessness You remain faithful.

And there you are, O Lord, my God, dressed in your armor: your breastplate of righteousness, helmet of salvation, garments of vengeance, your cloak of zeal. You come riding to me, to me! You come on the intensity of a flood that you cause with your breath!

You are my Warrior God. You shoot the shoots of deliverance with strands of love and kindness following behind. You stoop to feed! I eat and I am filled. You bends to help, even when I can't help but to wallow in my pride and doubt and muck.

"Make a promise to me now, reassure me somehow … I have a feeling in my soul and I pray that I'm not wrong, the life I have now it is only the beginning. Feels like I'm born again! Feels like I'm living!" (Lyric, Mac Powell)