And as Moses lifted up the bronze snake on a pole in the wilderness, so the Son of Man must be lifted up, so that everyone who believes in him will have eternal life. John 3:14-15

God is holy and must deal with our sin. But God is also merciful and offered His Son to pay for our iniquity. To receive it, we must turn from our sin, repent, and look to Christ to save us. This is the Gospel.

Yet, we refrain from looking to Jesus. History proves it. The last thing the Israelites wanted to do was to look at a brass snake on a pole. Seeing the serpent was a symbol of the curse God brought upon them because of their grumbling. Because of that, only some were willing to look at it – and live. The rest chose to nurse their grudge against God for whatever reason. Perhaps they felt His remedy was preposterous and, in so doing, they chose death over life.

We are asked to behold our Savior on a cross, to look upon the gruesome scene of a crucifixion. Couldn’t there be some other extension of mercy than to have to look to Jesus, beaten and bruised, suffering unspeakable horrors? Only some are willing to look – and live. Most choose to nurse their grudge against God for whatever reason. Perhaps they feel God’s remedy of His only Son is preposterous and, in so doing, choose death over life.

This is ultimately a love story. Bitten by sin, we are cursed and face a death sentence. There is only one remedy and we don’t get to decide how we’ll be saved. The One who does determine how is the Savior who took our curse upon Himself and died in our place. In our place, He was despised and rejected. Oh, but if we look to Him, repent, and cast ourselves upon His mercy, we live.

Jesus, the power of the Gospel washes over my soul today all over again. Amen

But if you don’t believe me when I tell you about earthly things, how can you possibly believe if I tell you about heavenly things? No one has ever gone to heaven and returned. But the Son of Man has come down from heaven.  John 3:12-13 NLT

Jesus’ words to Nicodemus were upsetting.  Not only did he not believe Jesus about tangible things, he rendered himself impotent to hear and understand things intangible, the matters of the kingdom.  What qualified Jesus to speak on the topic of heaven and kingdom matters?  He had come from there!

Consider Isaiah’s words.  Who is able to advise the Spirit of the LORD? Who knows enough to give him advice or teach him?  Isaiah 40:13   

While I would never think of suggesting to God that I should be His advisor, I insinuate that when I argue with Him; when I listen but then walk away and ignore what He said.  My unwillingness to act on the Truth communicates that I know better than He does.  

Jesus’ teachings are difficult and strike my carnal mind as preposterous.  Nicodemus must have felt like his head was spinning as Jesus spoke to him about spiritual births, wombs, and such.  If he came for a hearty spiritual debate, he didn’t get one.  Instead, he left with his heart burning. 

Convicted.  Loved.  Stunned.  Captivated.  Changed.  These are the outcomes of an encounter with Jesus.  And none of them are catalysts for rising up to become a pious advisor to the King of Kings and Lord of Lords. 

I know my place.  I am Your disciple, a spiritual child, a friend.  And, always Your student.  Amen

Jesus replied, “You are a respected Jewish teacher, and yet you don’t understand these things? I assure you, we tell you what we know and have seen, and yet you won’t believe our testimony.  John 3:10 NLT

Jesus tells Nicodemus, “We tell you what we know but you won’t believe our testimony.”  Who is the ‘we’ He refers to?  

John the Baptist.  The disciples.  Those who have already believed and have given their testimony.  Those who have been the recipients of miracles, through faith. These witnesses are powerful truth tellers, yet unbelief still exists in the heart of this renowned Jewish teacher.  

Because Nicodemus’ will is closed, faith can not take him any further into the kingdom.  Legalism and traditions hold most every Pharisee and Jewish leader captive.  They fear anything outside of their previous experience.  They cling to what they have always known. Meeting Jesus, the One they have been waiting for, should be enough to penetrate their unbelief.  But it isn’t.  Willful pride is a powerful thing.  

Jesus failed to do miracles in places where unbelief was rampant.  Faith was nearly impossible where the human will chose to disbelieve.  Jesus went elsewhere where the people were open to the Gospel, where the need was great enough to open them up to the presence of a Savior and Deliverer.

Can this kind of blindness exist today, even in God’s children?  Does it exist in me? Perhaps I’ve decided that God can only speak in a certain way, or heal in a certain way, or express Himself through the Spirit in a certain way.  Anything outside my comfort zone can seem heretical. Traditions can seem holy depending on our teachers.  To touch them, change them, or discard them is jarring to our identity and security.  Many traditions, even religious ones, are man-made.  They are not immutable. 

In my fifties, I began to examine my will, my biases, and open up to faith.  I’ve never been the same. 

Wake up Your church, Lord.  Show us what we are missing.  Amen

The wind blows wherever it wants. Just as you can hear the wind but can’t tell where it comes from or where it is going, so you can’t explain how people are born of the Spirit.  John 3:8  NLT

God breathes and His Spirit is released in the form of a wind.  Wherever it goes, the eternal touches temporal.  Adam came to life when God’s Spirit breathed life into him.

Job also knew the wind of the Spirit.  He said, “The Spirit of God has made me, and the breath of the Almighty gives me life.”  Job 33:4

Ezekiel saw the effects of the Spirit. “Come from the four winds, O breath, and breathe on these slain, that they may life.”  Ezekiel 37:9 In a vision, corpses came to life, stood on their feet, and became a great army.

The world at the end of the tribulation will see the effects of the wind when the two witnesses, the prophets Satan kills, come back to life with a breath.  “But after three and a half days a breath of life from God entered them, and they stood up on their feet, and great fear fell on those who saw them.”  Revelation 11:11

And, when the disciples were despondent after the crucifixion of Jesus, He appeared, told them to be at peace, and then breathed on them.  “Receive the Holy Spirit.”  John 20:21   They went from there to burn brightly till their deaths.
  
The wind of the Spirit continues to be a source of spiritual renewal.  Our spiritual fathers knew it as they made breathing prayer a way of life.  As they inhaled, they prayed ~ “O Lord Jesus,” and as they exhaled, “Have mercy on me.”  In difficult periods, I’ve made this breathing prayer a part of my life.

The Spirit of God, the breath of God, is within us.  He rises up to infuse us with eternal life, with calmness as well as resurrection power, and with spiritual understanding.  The outgrowth is a truth-thud, that moment when a spiritual mystery registers deeply within us and there is miraculous clarity.  

Breathe on me again, Holy Spirit.  Amen

Jesus replied, “I assure you, no one can enter the Kingdom of God without being born of water and the Spirit.  John 3:5 NLT

Jesus answered Nicodemus’ questions about being born again.  He said it happens through two things: Water ~ the Word of God, and the Spirit ~ the One who brings understanding to what’s been heard.  Preaching of the Word alone is not sufficient.  It must be accompanied by the breath of the Spirit who moves over a darkened mind. Regeneration is not produced by another’s eloquence, ability to debate, or even clever exposure to Scripture. God must breathe over spiritual blindness.

Think about your favorite scripture; the one you’ve cherished for years, the one you’ve typed out, highlighted, and dated in your Bible. Share that verse with someone whose heart has not yet been awakened to Jesus.  Don’t be surprised when they are unmoved.  That’s because the wind of the Holy Spirit hasn’t yet brought the same insight to them in a personal way.  

The Word and the Spirit have also been necessary agents of change in my sanctification. There were lies about God that held me hostage. I quoted Scripture against them, but I was still held captive. I memorized promises, repeated them faithfully, and wondered in secret why they were not changing me. My lack of victory embarrassed me.  I hid my weaknesses from others, wondering why scripture appeared to be ineffective.

I needed more than a verse retrieved from memory.  I needed truth to penetrate what repetition could not reach. The Holy Spirit needed to take the Word, breathe over me as I internalized it, and then press it into human flesh. My Father longs to give His child understanding accompanied by feelings.  

  Continue to blow over my barren landscape.  Write Your Word with indelible ink on the pillars of my foundation.  Amen

Jesus replied, “I tell you the truth, unless you are born again, you cannot see the Kingdom of God.” “What do you mean?” exclaimed Nicodemus. “How can an old man go back into his mother’s womb and be born again?” John 3:3-4 NLT

The new birth is no small thing. Scripture is startlingly honest about my condition before Christ. I belonged to another kingdom. Jesus used severe language for it: I was “of my father the devil.” I could behave well, appear moral, even do admirable things, but the deepest center of my life was self focused. The captivity was so ironclad that I could not even see the chains.

But oh, there was a day when God lit up my understanding. Christ rose before the eyes of my heart, unseen yet unmistakable, and I was born again. The old bloodline of rebellion no longer named me. I was adopted into the family of God, and His likeness began its slow engraving upon my soul. My new birth felt like gift because Jesus bore its violence. He entered death so I could awaken to resurrection life..

Yet the invisible kingdom keeps breaking through. A hardened heart softens. Provision arrives. A body is healed. A decades-long prayer suddenly flowers. Seasons turn with unbroken faithfulness, and creation quietly reminds us that resurrection is written into God’s eternal narrative.

I remember Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s poem about earth being “crammed with heaven.” Perhaps the problem is not that God is hidden, but that I am still learning how to see. The kingdom is always pressing against the veil, and everywhere I look, there are fingerprints.

Give my spirit eyes 20/20 vision. Amen

Nicodemus said, “We know that you are a teacher come from God.” John 3:2
Jesus said, “You are a teacher from Israel and yet you do not know these things.” John 3:10 [NLT]

It’s safe to generalize. “We all think you should do this or that.” Or, “We all believe this is a problem.” The person speaking feels it’s safer to do this than share his own opinion. To personalize is so much more vulnerable.

John tells the story of Nicodemus coming to Jesus at night. The ruler of the Jews begins with a generalization. “We know that you are a teacher…” He must be speaking on behalf of a group. Other teachers? Other Pharisees? Who is ‘we’? Jesus quickly moves the topic to metaphors without pinning Nicodemus down. Eventually however, the moment comes. Jesus has spoken of new birth, the wind of the Holy Spirit, the contrast between things of the flesh and things of the Spirit, and all the while Nicodemus has been under the spotlight gaze of the Savior.

“You are a teacher from Israel, Nicodemus, and yet you do not know these things.”

Nicodemus began with ‘we know’. Jesus exposes his spiritually bankrupt understanding by telling him that he ‘doesn’t know.’

When it comes to the kingdom of God, the things I believe I understand may be the things I have understood least. I’ve stopped asking questions, and in doing so, I’ve stopped listening. Heaven does not operate by the logic of earth. Biblical principles do not fit neatly inside my categories. His kingdom overturns instinct and reverses values. If I could sit with Nicodemus now, I imagine he might lean toward me with the humility of a man whose certainties were once dismantled by Jesus and say, “Christine, believe me. What you think you know, you probably don’t.” Wisdom begins again when I become teachable.

I am Your student who seeks understanding. I begin on my knees. Amen

There was a man named Nicodemus, a Jewish religious leader who was a Pharisee. After dark one evening, he came to speak with Jesus.  John 3:1-2 NLT

Nicodemus was a ruler of the Jews, a notable person, the equivalent of one of our supreme court justices. He came to speak with Jesus but here’s the thing. Jesus felt no pressure. He didn’t sit up straighter because of who it was that paid him a visit. He didn’t try to elevate His illustrations to impress. He went the other direction. He spoke of spiritually infantile things, the stuff of wombs and being born again.

It’s the middle of the night and while pondering all of this on my bed, a vision came to me. I was half-awake. I was in a gladiator arena. I was the lone believer in the center, about to become a meal for the lions who were being released at any moment. The roar of the crowd was out of my radar. It didn’t matter to me if there were ten people in the stands or several hundred thousand. My focus was the faith test in front of me and how I would face the large cats. They would see me as prey; I would see them as predators.

Then, the Spirit of God spoke to me. “In the kingdom, they will not consume you. They will dwell with you as companions for your enjoyment.” And so, I stood and awaited their arrival. They circled me and I began to turn and look at each of them. I marveled at their power, the beauty of their features, all given to them by Creator God. I asked if I could pet them. I approached the first, petted the top of his head, and scratched him behind his ears. His eyes closed and I began to hear him purr. I was in the kingdom and context had been transformed. I was not their meal; I was their friend. The audience were spectators of the power and glory of God.

God promises to tame the lions. We can exist in Babylon but not be consumed. The need to perform, to be accepted, to excel, to impress, to compete and win, will no longer be lions of prey. Nicodemus may grace our stage but so will the nameless widow who brought her mite to the temple. King Saul may summon us to calm oppressive spirits but so will the notorious demoniac who lives among the tombs. None of these, famous or infamous, will need a statesman. They will need a Savior and we will be the beggars who bring them to the One who saves.

Lord, I hear it again ~ your great commission. I will travel lighter, trading in my heavy robes for a simple tunic. I’m laying aside such weights and temptations. Amen

Jesus didn’t trust them, because he knew all about people. No one needed to tell him about human nature, for he knew what was in each person’s heart.  John 2:24-25

Jesus knows the human heart—how deeply it can love and how easily it can fail. He never asks me to stop needing people. He created me for relationship, for the giving and receiving of love. But He also knows that no human being can carry the full weight of my heart. What others cannot give, Christ does not leave empty. He has given me His Spirit to fill me and live through me.
Perhaps you know the ache of loving someone who does not yet love you well. You’ve been honest, shared your needs, and waited for them to come through. But loving you in the ways you need would require something costly of them like growth, courage, surrender to God, and perhaps they are unwilling or unable to go there. Disillusionment settles in when I see the distance between what I hoped someone would give and what they are actually capable of giving. In proportion to the need, the love they sometimes offer feels like crumbs.
  
This is fertile ground for the enemy. He points relentlessly to what is missing until deprivation fills my range of vision. But Scripture takes me somewhere deeper. Paul prays that I would be “rooted and grounded in love.” Roots live underground, drawing life from a source no one can even see. My ability to love should not rise and fall according to how well others love me. I am to sink itself into the inexhaustible love of God.

Then Christ will make his home in your hearts as you trust in him. Your roots will grow down into God’s love and keep you strong.  Ephesians 3:17

This is the freedom I want. Not to need people less, but to need them without making them my savior. Not to become invulnerable, but to remain tender without placing my heart entirely in another person’s hands. When I know I am already held, I can receive human love as gift rather than demand it as proof that I am safe.

Lord Jesus, root me so deeply in Your love that others’ limitations cannot convince me that I am unloved. Amen

But the Jewish leaders demanded, “What are you doing? If God gave you authority to do this, show us a miraculous sign to prove it.” “All right,” Jesus replied. “Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up.”  John 2:18-19

Jesus overturns the crooked commerce of the Temple, and chaos erupts around Him. Coins scatter. Tables fall. The innocent watch in alarm while the guilty feel their anger rising. The religious leaders confront Him. “What sign can you show us to prove your authority to do all this?”

The verb tense is in the present. “What  are  you doing?” Jesus answers from the future. “Destroy this temple and I will raise it up.” 
 
They demand an explanation for what they can see, but Jesus points to something they cannot yet understand. His authority will ultimately be revealed through His death and resurrection. They want proof now. Jesus gives them a promise instead.
  
I know this tension. Do you? I ask God questions from inside the moment I am living. What are You doing? Why are You allowing this? Where are You in it? Pain makes my present feel like the whole story has been written. Chaos looks like it has the last word when I cannot yet see redemption. But so much of faith is lived between what is and what God says will be.

God’s promises are written in future tense because much of His faithfulness can only be understood looking backward. Trusting God does not mean I stop asking why. It means my questions change posture. I can weep and still praise. I can ache without accusing. I can say, “I do not understand You,” while still believing that God is good.

Why Lord?” always has an answer. As a beloved child of God, my greatest hopes and dreams lie in future tenses

Teach me to live faithfully inside the unfinished sentence, trusting that what I cannot yet see is already held within Your resurrection purposes. Amen