God is the great healer. Rejoice.
Suffering gives way in prayer and hope is born. And hope does not disappoint us. Why? Go back to Romans 5:5 and pick up the rest of the verse.
“And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured His love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom He has given us.”
The editor told me my writing was “almost there.” God tells us He’s “already here.” He’s poured out his love and hope, and He won’t disappoint us.
Life gives us no easy answers. No simple plans. We have disappointments to face and trials to overcome. We will suffer—Jesus told us we would. We will go without and lose people we care about and things we enjoyed. We will be told “No!” And, we will get our feelings hurt. But don’t let disappointment have the final word. Don’t let suffering rob you of what is rightfully yours.
Perseverance—character—hope.
“And hope does not disappoint us.”
23
Our Duty
Once upon a time, there was a man who sat in prison awaiting his execution. Every day he hoped and prayed he’d be pardoned—reprieved. The day of his execution neared, and still there was no sign of the governor’s releasing him.
Miles away in the state capitol, the governor looked at the request for pardon. He took pity on the man and issued forgiveness. The man was to be spared the death sentence and instead would serve out his days in prison. The governor handed over his decision to a clerk and asked that the man deliver the good news.
The clerk, however, wasn’t all that concerned with what he had to convey. On his way to the prison, he dropped off his dry cleaning, made a stop at the bank, argued with a gas station attendant who informed him that there were no longer any full-service pumps, and finally stopped to get himself something from the local burger joint.
He showed up at the prison to deliver the letter at the same hour the man was to be executed. He went to see the warden, but didn’t identify himself or his business. As he sat waiting to see the warden, he sucked down the last of his soda from the fast-food restaurant and mentally planned his evening. When the warden finally showed up and asked the man his business, the man handed over the governor’s letter and proceeded to walk away.
“Wait!” the warden cried, “I have just put this man to death. What am I supposed to do with this news?”
The man turned and shrugged. “That’s not my problem. I brought the news. What you do with it is up to you.”
Then there is the story of the surgeon who stood over his patient. The sick man writhed in pain and pleaded for the doctor’s help. “You’ll only get out of this what you choose to,” the surgeon told him.
The man, quite stunned, questioned the doctor. “What do you mean? I’m in pain and I need help. I can hardly fix myself. You are the one with the knowledge to save my life, but you’re telling me that I’ll only get out of it what I choose to get out of it? What is that supposed to mean?”
The surgeon shook his head. “It means exactly that. It’s true, I’ve come to this room with the knowledge needed to ease your pain, but it’s up to you to receive it in a proper manner.”
The doctor’s answer completely baffled the man and did nothing to ease his misery.
Often we deal with situations and people who are on the brink of death, particularly spiritual death, or writhing in pain from their own sins or the suffering inflicted upon them through the sins of others. We deliver the Word of God, giving wonderful platitudes of faith. We preach from pulpits, dictate the law from the front of a classroom, and then walk away from the situation feeling that we’ve done our duty. We delivered the news. We brought the knowledge needed. Our part of the task is finished. It’s up to those hurting, dying people to be benefited by our mission.
This is a falsehood that has done more to cripple than any other I know. We somehow get in our heads that our responsibility—our duty—is a very limited one. We hear sermons on how we sow the seeds but may never reap the harvest. And while that’s true, it doesn’t mean it’s set in stone—that this is how it will be every time. We may well sow seeds and harvest those fields. We may deliver the Good News and find ourselves needing to go beyond platitudes and sermons to something practical. We may be asked to give something more, and find that in doing so, we will also need to continue to give . . . and to give . . . and to give.
In Matthew 5:41 Jesus says, “If someone forces you to go one mile, go with him two miles.” Jesus also said that we have to deny self and take up our cross daily and follow Him. Sometimes going the extra mile with someone requires that we deny self. And sometimes that’s not exactly what we want to do.
When my husband was in college, he had a professor who openly confessed pride in his fail rate. He told his class that he had the highest failing rate in the entire college. He took this as a badge of honor. He thought it meant that his subject was so difficult, the knowledge so lofty and unattainable, that unless the student really applied himself, really sunk his teeth into the meat of the topic and gave it his all, he would fail the course.
It apparently never occurred to the professor that the problem might be that his teaching techniques were less than effective or that his style was antiquated and that he had no heart for his students.
As brothers and sisters in the Lord, we are called upon to nurture and encourage one another. It is our duty to bear one another’s burdens. To feed the sheep. I once heard from the pulpit that it wasn’t the pastor’s job to feed the congregation; his job was to preach to the unsaved so that they might accept salvation. It was the responsibility of those already saved to find food for themselves. I have a problem with this. Not that I don’t believe we have certain responsibilities to continue our growth in Jesus Christ. After all, that’s what this book is all about.
What I have a problem with is that sometimes people—good people, honest people, saved people, are struggling in the daily grind just to draw their next breath. And if breathing is a task, then how can we in leadership roles expect them to feed themselves?
What about those in need of critical care—those too wounded and sick to get off their sick beds and walk to the cupboard? What about those whose sickness affects their minds, and they don’t know how to care for themselves anymore? What about those who are too exhausted to move? They’d honestly like to dig into a platter of spiritual meat, but they haven’t got the energy to figure out where they can find such a meal.
Jesus told Peter on three different occasions in the twenty-first chapter of John to feed His lambs, take care of His sheep, and to feed His sheep. He gave Peter a duty—the same duty He gives us.
Sheep rely on the shepherd to take them to pasture. They need his guidance and direction. They can’t very well walk to the fridge for a snack, nor can a lamb prepare its own bottle of milk. They need help to find food. They need to be led in order to be fed.
Christians of all spiritual ages and walks need to be fed as well. Jesus wasn’t talking about the beasts in the field when he instructed Peter. He was talking about the sheep in his spiritual flock. He wanted Peter to provide spiritual food to feed the lambs and sheep of Jesus’ kingdom. Jesus calls us to feed one another as well. To offer nourishment in times of hunger. To keep the hungry from starving to death.
When the people flocked to Jesus with their hearts sincerely seeking, Jesus shared living water and the bread of life. He didn’t ask them first to prove they were worthy. He didn’t tell them that they should go out there and find their own food. He didn’t tell them they’d only get out of it what they chose to, and He didn’t throw the Good News at them, leaving them confused and uncertain, and then tell them what they did with it was up to them.
The Canaanite woman pleaded with Jesus, “Lord, Son of David, have mercy on me!” Her daughter was demon possessed, and she wanted Jesus to help. The account in Matthew 15 says that Jesus didn’t answer her, so His disciples came to Him and urged Him to send her away. She was a nuisance; she was disturbing their pe
ace with her neediness. Ever see that in the church today?
Jesus tells them, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of Israel.” The woman in turn begs Him for help again. Jesus then replies, “It is not right to take the children’s bread and toss it to their dogs.”
“Yes, Lord,” she said, “but even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table” (vv. 22–27).
Jesus praised her for her faith and healed her daughter. Jesus saw her hunger—her need. He sees our hunger and need as well. He hears our heart’s questions even when the world, including the church, chooses to ignore them. He didn’t require anything more of her than the fact that she had come in faith—in her neediness. He didn’t reject her because she needed more of Him than He was ready to give. After all, He tells her that He’s come for the lost sheep of Israel, and she doesn’t fit the bill. But even though this woman had a need that was outside the realm of everyone’s expectation and plan, Jesus blessed her and healed her daughter.
Can we as ambassadors of Christ do any less? Will we stand by the side of the road and smile at the passing hungry masses? Will we tell them to find their own food, to feed themselves? Will we stand in our loftiness with knowledge and understanding and refuse to share what we have? Will we deny our duty?
Jesus says, “Come, you who are blessed by my Father, take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat” (Matthew 25:34–35).
There are hungry sheep to be fed.
There are starving baby lambs that need a bottle of milk.
You may be the only one who has the opportunity to feed them. Don’t send them away hungry. Don’t leave them to their own care.
Listen to the Master—He’s calling to you now.
“Feed my sheep. Feed my lambs. Feed my people.”
24
Causes and the Cross
In this day and age, we are absolutely inundated with causes of every kind. There are causes to help those who are sick, causes to help animals, causes to help workers, and causes to help causes. My children actually came out of grade school knowing more about causes than about the things I considered necessary to their education.
We love our causes. Causes give us purpose and direction. We find something we truly believe in and go after it with great gumption. Maybe it’s as simple as becoming a worker in an organization we believe in. Maybe it’s more involved and takes us on multiple journeys around the world. You can take up political causes, religious causes, and educational causes. People give hours and hours of time to one cause or another. They work at raising money, raising awareness, and raising indignation.
There’s no end of causes in the United States. Even a diet or exercise plan can become a cause, taking our focus and time in a regular routine of events.
Religious organizations are probably some of the biggest cause-focused groups. We find ourselves participating in the choir, the women’s ministry, the community food shelf, and children’s church. We busy ourselves in the service of God, but sometimes lose sight of God himself.
Now, don’t get me wrong. I believe in service and causes. Christian radio has been one of my favorites. I met a really neat friend through Christian radio—a man with a real heart for God. His participation and love of the ministry of Christian radio opened my eyes to a whole new mission field. Christian publishing is another cause that I’m obviously behind and supportive of. Crisis pregnancy centers, supporting pro-life, have rated high in my book, as have causes dealing with helping the illiterate, veterans, the homeless, and just about anything to do with children.
But first and foremost, all causes aside, I believe in the cross of Jesus Christ. Jesus didn’t espouse causes. He espoused obedience to the Father. And in that obedience, He met the needs of His people. He didn’t act out of pride or forced allegiance. He didn’t come forward because it was expected of Him. He didn’t step out because the synagogue would look down upon Him if He didn’t. He came in obedience, and He went to the cross in obedience.
Oswald Chambers, one of my very favorite writers, says this in his classic devotional My Utmost for His Highest:
Today we have substituted credal beliefs for personal belief, and that is why so many are devoted to causes and so few devoted to Jesus Christ. People do not want to be devoted to Jesus, but only to the cause He started. Jesus Christ is a source of deep offense to the educated mind of today that does not want Him in any other way than as a Comrade.[2]
Or as we like to call it in our house, “the fluffy bunny Jesus” syndrome.
The cause Jesus started is frightening to us, and so thinking of Jesus as a soft-hearted, fluffy God—the kind of buddy or pal who would overlook the wrong we do with a smile and say, “Oh well, I still love you, ya big lug,” is much easier to contend with.
Jesus came out of obedience, and obedience terrifies us. Obedience was hard for us as children. I remember one of our daughters getting caught red-handed in something she knew better than to be doing. Her response was something like “I really wanted to mind you.” The spirit was willing, but the flesh was weak.
It really gets no easier as adults. We want to obey the speed limit, but we’re going to be late to work unless we push past that limit. Then we’re angry and frustrated when we catch sight of the flashing red lights in the rearview mirror. And we blame the cop for our indiscretion.
Causes are easy, but obedience is hard. Unless we yield first to Jesus. Even then, as human beings we are going to struggle with our choices. Causes almost seem simple compared to obedience. We bury ourselves in the pretense of obedience by giving of our time and efforts in order to avoid the real issue: a prideful, unbroken spirit, a willful heart that demands control or glory or self-gratification. Sometimes the real cause we seek to serve is self.
Several years ago I heard a man say that he highly regarded and supported the cause of Mother Teresa, that dear little dynamo of missions, who worked with the lowest of the lowly in India. I thought to myself at the time that had Mother Teresa heard his statement, it would have grieved her to the core of her heart. She wasn’t into her own cause. It wasn’t Mother Teresa’s cause at all, but rather the cause of obedience to God. God had called her to work for Him. God gave her a mission field with many unique problems and needs. God even brought her into a work that needed champions to help support and fund it, creating it into a type of cause. But it was God’s cause—it was a cause of love and obedience. I’m fully convinced that if Mother Teresa could have gone about the earth working for God in complete secret, she would have done exactly that. She wasn’t working for fame or fortune. She was showing her love for God in the one way she knew best. Obedience.
On the flip side of that coin was Princess Diana. Here too was a woman who was called to various missions. She had cause after cause that made the front page of every paper in the world. She worked with AIDS patients. She worked to eliminate land mines. She worked to support so many charities that she needed several secretaries just to keep everything straight. Her very public status made her the perfect focal figure for these organizations. Those in charge knew that wherever she went, the press and people would follow, and this, they hoped, would result in additional funding, charitable contributions, and maybe even volunteers for their organizations.
Diana’s heart may well have been in the right place. She may very well have loved and adored helping the sick and injured. I cannot say that she didn’t have a heart of love and compassion. But because of who she was to the people around her, the focus was always Diana. She may not have wanted it that way, but by the very nature of the situation, that’s the way it was.
Two very different women. A multitude of various causes. But one did her deeds out of obedience to the Lord. She wanted no glory for herself. She only wanted to be God’s ambassador of love to a dying and hopeless world.
These two women died within a week of each other. I might not have even known about Mother Teres
a’s death except for hearing about it at church. Because of the volatile and unexpected nature of Princess Diana’s death in a car accident, and because of who she was and what she represented to the world—beauty, youth, popularity, money, power—she was all we heard about on the news for weeks.
Mother Teresa slipped quietly into the arms of Jesus, no doubt hearing, “Well done, my good and faithful servant.” I know Mother Teresa would probably have had it no other way. She wouldn’t have wanted the world’s glory heaped upon her deeds. She wouldn’t want them espousing the “cause of Mother Teresa,” because that would take the focus away from the God she so dearly loved and served.
The focus of our attention must never be the cause. Because no matter what cause you choose or how noble the issue, the cause of Jesus must overshadow it or it’s nothing more than clanging cymbals. The cause of Jesus was obedience to the Father. The result of that cause was an outpouring of love so wondrous and rich that it led Jesus to the cross of Calvary. And the love that poured down from the cross is the same love that leads us home.
Are you weary of the causes in your life? Did you seek to fulfill yourself in deeds and showy routines, only to find there was nothing there to satisfy the longing of your heart? Are you in the business of busyness, yet have an empty place in your heart that refuses to be filled?
I know who can fill that emptiness.
Mother Teresa knew who could fill it as well.
Only Jesus satisfies. Jesus is the only cause you need. In loving and obeying Him, you’ll find the direction He would have you go. You’ll find those purposes and deeds that need to be performed. But better yet, you’ll find Him in a most intimate and personal way—a way that will lead you home.
25
As a Little Child
At my son’s first Christmas, we gifted him with a stuffed animal that he was to later dub “Kitty.” The only “problem,” and it never really was that much of a problem, was that this was a stuffed bear and not a cat.
Eyes of the Heart, The: Seeing God's Hand in the Everyday Moments of Life Page 10