The Creatures Of The Night

You will not fear the terror of night, nor the arrow that flies by day, nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness, nor the plague that destroys at midday. Psalm 91:6-7

In the original Hebrew, these verses speak of dangers both seen and unseen. Centuries before Jesus, Jewish translators rendering this Psalm into Greek used language that also reflected an awareness of demonic evil. The spiritual world was very real to them.

There is much to learn about the demonic, how darkness gains influence, why it seems more pronounced in some places than others, and how believers are to stand against it. But none of us needs to live afraid of dark spirits. If we understand the authority of Christ, we know that though darkness is real, it is not sovereign.

Having traveled extensively, I’ve stayed in all kinds of places, and every place has a history. Some have felt peaceful the moment I entered. Others have felt oppressive. Wherever terrible things have happened, there is a spiritual residue associated with what took place there.

Think of a hotel room and the hundreds, perhaps thousands, of people who have stayed there. There’s no way to know everything that has transpired within those walls. So one of the first things I do after unlocking the door is pray. I speak Scripture, acknowledge the lordship of Jesus Christ, and ask Him to fill the room with His presence. I have spent enough fitful nights feeling inexplicably agitated to know that it’s imperative to pray rather than dismiss the uneasiness.

It is instinctive to fear enemies we cannot see, but God sees every one of them. He is a good Father who does not leave His children defenseless. In Christ, He’s given us every weapon to prevail. False bravado is out of places. So is a fascination with spiritual darkness. Satan is actually delighted with either. My confidence is not in how forcefully I pray but in the authority of the One whose name I carry.

The powers of darkness are not impressed by me. But they know Jesus.

Hidden in You, I am feared by Your enemies.  Thank you.  Amen

The Hidden Blessing Of Cramped Quarters

But when Isaac’s servants dug in the valley and found there a well of spring water, the herdsmen of Gerar quarreled with Isaac’s herdsmen, saying, “The water is ours.” Then they dug another well, and they quarreled over that also, so he called its name Sitnah. And he moved from there and dug another well, and they did not quarrel over it. So he called its name Rehoboth, saying, “For now the Lord has made room for us, and we shall be fruitful in the land.”  Genesis 26:19-22

If following Christ were easy, more believers might choose it. His markers are not always obvious. Sometimes guidance comes through peace and open doors. Other times, it comes through resistance, conflict, and the growing realization that I can no longer flourish where I am.

I wonder how discouraged Isaac became as he searched for a place to settle. Everywhere he tried to put down roots, something resisted him. Because water was essential for survival, Isaac re-dug the wells Abraham had once dug, the very wells the Philistines had deliberately filled with dirt. I can imagine his relief when water bubbled up again. But then the arguments began. Local herdsmen claimed the water as theirs. Only at the third well was there finally room enough to breathe. Isaac named it Rehoboth, saying, “Now the Lord has made room for us.” God did not guide Isaac only through blessing. He also guided him through constriction.

I have known seasons of this. There have been stopping points I tried desperately to make work because I believed God had led me there. When they became painful, I assumed I had misunderstood Him. I accused God of leading me somewhere only to make me unhappy. I second-guessed every step that had brought me there.

God can use cramped quarters to make staying more uncomfortable than leaving. He can use conflict to expose what I would otherwise tolerate indefinitely. Even the selfishness of other people can become part of His providence, not because He approves of their behavior, but because He is able to use what they do without scrambling to reorder His purposes for me.

Discomfort alone is not permission to leave. God sometimes asks me to remain and grow roots in hard soil. But there are other times when the walls keep narrowing, the conflict will not resolve, and something deep within me knows the grace for staying has lifted.

Thank you for propelling me out of my cocoon to travel on to ‘Rohobeth’. Amen

Satan Uses God’s Word Against Me

Hold not your peace, oh God of my praise. Psalms 109:1

Has the Word of God ever tormented you? Conviction is one thing; torment is altogether different. God is not a tormentor, and yet, when it’s the Word of God that appears to eat at my soul, it can do tricks on my spiritual view of God.

This is where I need to remember how cunning Satan is. Paul warned, “I am afraid that as the serpent deceived Eve by his cunning, your thoughts will be led astray from a sincere and pure devotion to Christ.” 2 Cor 11:3 That verse provides a litmus test. The Word, when interpreted by the Spirit, draws me toward Jesus. Even when it exposes something painful, I find myself still wanting to come closer. Conviction may make me weep, but it does not make Christ frightening.

Satan works differently. He quoted Scripture to Jesus in the wilderness. He can take something true, detach it from God’s character, connect it to an old wound, and make the resulting conclusion feel almost holy. The deception is powerful because pieces of it are true.

How do I recognize the difference? I watch what it does to my relationship with Christ. If I begin backing away, becoming shy with Him, doubting His affection, or feeling that I should hide until I improve, something is wrong. The Holy Spirit exposes sin in order to restore intimacy. The accuser exposes weakness in order to destroy it.

For years, Satan trapped me by joining two biblical truths together. 1.) God loves me just as I am. And, 2.) God’s will is for me is to become more like Jesus. Both are gloriously true. But the lie slipped quietly between them: How can God really love me as I am now if He intends to spend my entire life changing me?

That distortion poisoned intimacy. I concluded that God must love some future, improved version of me more than He loved the woman standing before Him now. I could trust His affection only on days when I felt Christlike. Do you see the trap? Sanctification is not a long project to make me finally lovable. Sanctification is what His love begins to do in someone He already loves. That changes everything. I’m wary of a truth that has been severed from grace, twisted by shame, or interpreted through an old wound.

When Scripture seems to make Jesus less beautiful, or less approachable, I go hunting for the lie hidden beside the truth.

Lord, expose every place where Your Word has been twisted into something You never meant it to say. Amen.

Recipients of Special Graces

He will bless those who fear the Lord, both the small and the great.  Psalm 115:13

Our world prizes the strong, the noble, the talented. But our God is different. He dispenses special graces to those who are bruised and ready to break. He infuses spiritual energy into those whose light is faint and the fear of being extinguished overtakes them. He does not fear that they will be lost because He never takes His eyes off of them. He sees that hope has become, for them, a distant memory. He knows that it takes time for His Word to become an anchor for their souls.

If that is you, God has not forgotten you. He has always been a defender of the weak; a refuge for the needy, a protector of the frail. The greater your need, the greater will be your deliverance and the greater will be the glory of the Father.

There is something unique to each of us which could potentially threaten our strength. God watches it all. He views the events, externally, from every possible angle. He views how we’re coping, internally, and can predict how we’ll process what’s going to happen. He knows what conclusions we’ll make, the judgements we’ll render about ourselves, what we’ll come to believe about other people, and most importantly, what we’ll conclude about Him. Some of all of the above will be accurate but much will not. Sorrow skews our vision and exacerbates frailty.

God knows each small pathway, every detour, that has taken us down. His arrival to save is never late. He strengthens with a word, a song, a picture, a dream, a memory, a confirmation; such simple things which have great power to resurrect what appears to have died. Only He can customize a language of encouragement made for our ears. Whatever He communicates, even if just a single word, is a life preserver which pulls us into the land of the living.

My encouragement for today is a review of the many times I knew I’d break in two, but I didn’t, and it’s only because of what You did for my heart. Thank you. Amen

Abba’s Place

Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine. Isaiah 43:1

There’s nothing worse than being parented by someone who is not good and who, ultimately, has it in for me. Every decision made on my behalf carries questionable motives. But there’s nothing better than belonging to Abba. He sincerely loves me. Every decision He makes concerning me flows from that love. With Him, I can finally breathe, no longer wondering whether He will change His mind about me. There was no honeymoon stage. It started well, and it will end well.

Some children live every day in fear as fickle parents demand performance for the privilege of belonging. Others exist in marriages where an unstable spouse turns love off and on like a faucet. You never know which version of that person you will encounter in the morning. Belonging to someone in either of these settings can feel like a prison sentence.

Oh, but daughter of God, you never need fear belonging to Abba. He loved you before you ever loved Him. You were precious to Him when your heart was still turned away. He gave His Son to make your adoption possible. His love is not sustained by your performance, so your failure cannot dismantle it. Once He sets His covenant love upon His child, He does not become fickle.

Finally, you and I have a place to belong that is wonderful. No matter how out of step we are with our world, we know where home is. No matter how poorly we fit within our earthly families, there is a family in which our belonging is settled. No matter what powerful person rejects us here, there is another kingdom more real and more permanent than this one. God calls us by name and says, “You are Mine.” He is a jealous God, and His jealousy can be trusted because it is holy. He guards what He loves.

The spiritual orphan lives as though everything depends upon being chosen again today. Each day is “good” or “bad” according to who loves her and who does not. She wanders from person to person looking for somewhere to belong. She peers through the windows of seemingly happy homes and wonders what it would feel like to live inside one.

Ah, but she already has a home in God. Nothing can shake loose the terms of her adoption or undo her spiritual birthright. Heaven’s legal papers were permanently signed in red.

At my new birth, Jesus took my hand and drew me out of exile. His voice pierced something ancient in my soul, and He brought me home to His Abba Father. The effect was thunder. The call was a whisper.

I am Yours and You are mine!  I will forever speak of the wonder of belonging to You. Amen

Messages From The Cloud

“Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us.” Hebrews 12:1

Before you read the Scripture, I suspect you saw the title and thought of computers, data, and storing digital information in “the cloud.” But another kind of cloud rises out of Hebrews 11—a cloud of witnesses. Who makes up this company? Abel, Enoch, Noah, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Joseph, Sarah, Rahab, Gideon, Barak, Samson, Jephthah, David, Samuel, and the prophets. What a gathering it would be if we could bring them together, in the flesh, and sit among them for an evening. How long would it take to ask everything on our minds, hear the parts of their stories Scripture leaves untold, and receive the wisdom they paid dearly to learn?

We can imagine their voices, can’t we? One of the themes in Michael Card’s writing is “reading the Bible with your imagination.” He encourages us to enter the stories, to wonder what these people feared, what moved them to obey, what they learned through failure, and what they discovered about God. As I revisit Hebrews 11 and the stories behind those names, I can almost hear some of their counsel.

Abel ~ “Build your own history with God. Faith cannot be inherited secondhand.”

Enoch ~ “When the culture around you grows darker, intimacy with God can still become the defining reality of your life.”

Noah ~ “Do not mistake God’s silence for His absence. Keep building what He told you to build.”

Abraham ~ “When obedience takes you to Moriah, trust the character of God when you cannot understand the command.”

Sarah ~ “Your unbelief does not have to be the final chapter. God can still bring promise out of the place where you once laughed.”

Jochebed ~ “There are moments when love must release what it cannot protect and trust God with what floats beyond its reach.”

Six voices from a multitude. Their circumstances differ, but their testimony converges. None of them followed God without fear, cost, waiting, or even momentary confusion. Yet each discovered that faithfulness on earth becomes a witness for generations not yet born.

Perhaps this is why their stories draw me in today. When my own faith becomes thin, I borrow courage from theirs. Their obedience tells me what is possible when ordinary people stake everything on the character of God.

And I have barely begun to mine their lives for gold.

Lord, give me courage to tell my own stories truthfully—the fear as well as the faith, the failures as well as the victories. What You teach me in secret may someday become strength for someone running behind me. Amen.

Slaying One Giant At a Time

“The Lord is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in him, and he helps me.”  Psalm 28:7-8

Let’s talk about this big thing that overwhelms you; that thing you bring before God nearly every hour of the day. I know you wish it weren’t there, that He would reach out with one sweeping motion and remove it. You are frustrated that He does not, especially when all power is His. David reminds us that God is our strength and shield, our trustworthy helper. Yet there are seasons when His help does not look like help at all.

God told His people as they traveled toward Canaan, “Little by little I will drive them out before you, until you have increased enough to take possession of the land.” His purpose is not merely to remove what threatens you, but to enlarge you until you can inhabit what He is giving you. Slaying one giant at a time builds into your life what will be essential for the future. Never underestimate what is gained while walking with God through progress that comes in inches instead of miles.

God is not stingy, nor is His power limited. Sometimes it is His love that restrains His hand from rescuing you too quickly. Immediate deliverance might remove the problem while leaving you unchanged. He is after more than relief. He is forming strength, wisdom, endurance, and a deeper knowledge of Himself.

I rest in Your faithfulness and my invisible growth. Amen

Who Gets The Prize?

On the last day of the festival, the great day, while Jesus was standing there, he cried out, “Let anyone who is thirsty come to me, and let the one who believes in me drink.”  John 7:37-38

Part of the ceremony for the Feast of Tabernacles was for the Jews to bring water from the Pool of Siloam and pour it into a silver basin at the altar. On the last day of the festival, Jesus watched His people participate in a ceremony rich with spiritual meaning, yet many remained unchanged within. They had handled the water and were still thirsty. In this setting, He said “Let anyone who is thirsty come to Me and drink.”

It is possible to engage zealously in religious exercise and never experience the Living Water, to leave as empty as when I came. If I come merely to observe, perform, or fulfill a religious habit, I can remain untouched while standing very near holy things. Perhaps one of the greatest dangers of religion is that I can become fluent in the language of thirst while forgetting what it feels like to actually be thirsty.

Jesus reveals the secret to life-change: spiritual thirst. But this usually offends the religious. Someone with little church history comes desperate for Jesus and experiences Him with a level of intimacy that lifelong churchgoers may never know. That’s because it has nothing to do with pedigree and everything to do with thirst.

The depth of my experience with Jesus is profoundly affected by how conscious I am of my need for Him. Need is not a liability in the kingdom of God. It is the doorway.

The self-impressed live differently. They may know Scripture, understand doctrine, and take pride in their spiritual heritage while remaining strangely untouched by the God they claim to know. Familiarity with the scriptures become dangerous when it convinces me that proximity and knowledge is intimacy. I must come empty-handed.

And this is the scandal of grace: poor, thirsty sinners walk away with the treasure ~ who is Jesus.

I am a barren land without your visitation.  Amen

Bargaining With God

Consider how I love your precepts!  Give me life according to your steadfast love.  Psalm 119:159

The psalmist sounds pretty frail. Nine times in Psalm 119 he asks God to give him life. We cannot know exactly what that meant every time he requested it. He may have feared for his physical safety, but he also sounds deeply afflicted, worn down, perhaps running on empty. He wants God to breathe life into him again.

What touches me is the way he asks. “Consider how I love Your precepts.” Not, Look how perfectly I have kept them.

Many of God’s children are taught a quieter version of a bargain: if I do this, God will do that. Obedience becomes a way of controlling the outcomes. If I pray, serve, give, and live faithfully, surely God will keep catastrophe outside the borders of my life.

Then the diagnosis comes. The marriage breaks. Someone I love suffers. And beneath my grief rises an accusation: I did all these things for You. How could You let this happen? It is the theology of the older brother: I have served You all these years. You owe me something.

But covenant love is not a transaction. God loves His children and answers them with wisdom larger than the moment they are living. I can ask boldly for intervention without believing I have earned the answer I want.

I see the tension of this mystery most clearly in Jesus. The Father repeatedly preserved Him because His hour had not yet come. Then Gethsemane arrived, and the cup was not removed. The Father’s love had not changed. It’s just that the larger redemptive purpose had come into view.

Somewhere in this is the kind of trust I want. Not confidence that God will arrange my circumstances according to my obedience, but confidence that His steadfast love will hold me through whatever He permits.

Today one believer will be released from prison while another remains behind bars. One person will rise unexpectedly from a sickbed while another faithful Christian enters hospice. God has not loved one and abandoned the other.

My life is part of a story whose meaning I cannot always see from inside the chapter.

When I cannot understand Your ways, I fall back on what cannot change, Your steadfast love. Amen.

When I Don’t Realize I’m Vulnerable

Do not let Judah become guilty; may they not go to Gilgal or go up to Beth-aven.  Hosea 4:15

During Hosea’s lifetime, God’s people were divided into two nations.  Israel was to the north and Judah to the south.  Israel had strayed farther from God’s ways than Judah.  In this verse, God gives a cautionary word to Judah so that the purity of her faith will not continue to deteriorate.  His encouragement was this ~ Do not go to Gilgal or Beth-aven.  These cities, both in Israel, were the centers of idol worship.  If a citizen of Judah traveled there, most likely he would be drawn to partake in idolatrous activities.  What I stand near long enough, I may begin to normalize.

That warning reaches farther than ancient geography. Whenever God is doing a new work in me, I should expect it to be vulnerable at first. New obedience is tender. New convictions are not yet muscle memory. A freshly healed place can be injured again. I may deny all of this but, in reality, I am standing much closer to Gilgal than I realize.

Sometimes Gilgal is a person. Perhaps God is teaching me to stop living for approval, yet I continue spending hours with someone whose affection rises and falls according to my compliance. A single conversation can send me back into striving.

Sometimes Gilgal is an atmosphere. If God is freeing me from comparison, I may need distance from places where everyone’s worth is measured by worldly values. I may call it harmless exposure while envy quietly begins rebuilding an altar.

Sometimes Gilgal is an old role. God may be teaching me to speak honestly, but around certain people I instantly become the peacemaker, the rescuer, the invisible one, or the person who absorbs everyone else’s emotions. I leave exhausted and wonder why. My body may have returned to an old survival pattern before my mind even recognized it.

Avoidance is not always fear. Sometimes it is stewardship.I do not prove spiritual maturity by seeing how close I can stand to what once harmed me. Maturity may mean recognizing that grace has given me something precious enough to guard.

There is a always a Gilgal beckoning me.  Help me love what You are forming in me enough to stop walking toward Gilgal. Amen