The Living Dead

For to set the mind on the flesh is death, but to set the mind on the Spirit is life and peace.  Romans 8:6

To set my mind on the flesh is to be habitually consumed with things that offend God.  How can I focus all my attention, as a consistent way of life, on the very things enemies of God think about?  Doesn’t that make me God’s enemy?  I believe Paul is saying yes. ‘She who is self-indulgent is dead even while she lives.’  I Timothy 5:6  She is the living dead. A life set on the flesh is a life moving toward death. The body breathes, but the soul is estranged.

The unbeliever lives for himself.  He is consumed with getting his needs met on his own terms.  He has no thought of God except for the occasional ache in his soul that something is wrong.

The believer has been born again into a completely new reality.  God has become his father.  What once felt natural now feels foreign. What once charmed now disappoints. The mind and heart have been turned in a new direction. There is a new hunger, a new grief over sin, a new peace in knowing that all is finally well between his soul and God. He is not perfect, but he is no longer at home in sin.

If I wound my earthly father, I do not stop thinking about him. If the relationship matters, the rupture matters. In the same way, a true child of God cannot live grieving the heart of the Father without feeling the tear of it somewhere deep inside. He may wander. He may dull himself for a season. But if the Spirit lives in him, he will not be able to sin with settled peace. Something in him will ache for home.

Do not let me grow comfortable in anything that grieves Your heart. Amen

It’s Simpler Than I Think

For those who live according to the flesh set their minds on the things of the flesh, but those who live according to the Spirit set their minds on the things of the Spirit.  Romans 8:5

Many believe that there are three categories of people; unbelievers, backslidden believers, and committed followers of Christ. But if we build our theology around the idea of a church full of carnal Christians, we may be dulling the edge of Jesus’ own words. We may all be surprised one day to see to whom Jesus says, “Depart from me.  I never knew you.”  Perhaps we are either ardent followers of Jesus (and have our minds set on the things of the Spirit) or we are hostile to Christ (and have our minds set on the things of the flesh.)  In a few more verses, Paul will soon say it plainly: the mind set on the flesh is hostile to God. Hostility is not a small condition. It is not immaturity. It is enmity.

To take this further, if I sin today, am I still God’s child?  I have already sinned even though it’s now early morning.  The question I must ask myself is this, “Where was my mind set?  Did I sin with no regard whatsoever to the heart of God?  Did I sin without a conscience?  Will a line of sins follow today for which I will feel no tinge of remorse?”  The issue is not sinless perfection, but spiritual direction.

Let’s address the elephant in the room. What about those we love who once seemed alive to God and now appear distant and estranged. We once saw vibrant faith in them. We once heard their prayers and saw signs of Jesus-hunger. Now their lives seem turned in a godless direction. What are we to conclude?

We must be careful. Only God knows whether conviction still visits them in the night, whether their heart is still, in some measure, grieved by its distance from Him. The sheep may wander, but they still know the Shepherd’s voice. And those who are His cannot go on forever content in a foreign land.

Jesus, don’t let me settle for an appearance of faith. Keep my heart tender in conscience. I want to be wholly given over to Your Spirit. Amen

An End To Striving

For God has done what the law, weakened by the flesh, could not do.  By sending His own Son in the likeness for sinful flesh and for sin, He condemned sin in the flesh in order that the righteous requirement of the law might be fulfilled in us, who walk not according to the flesh but according to the Spirit.  Romans 8:3-4

I grew up in a home with many unspoken expectations. The rules were rarely announced. You learned them by sensing tension, reading disapproval, and noticing what caused a parent’s stern look. My sister and I were expected to behave like little adults.

No running in the house. 

No loud voices. 

No leaving water spots on shower walls. 

Minimal water usage when you wash dishes. 

No asking to use the restroom while visiting someone.

That kind of upbringing leaves its mark. I desire for things to be ordered and calm. Some of that no doubt made its way into my parenting. Grace has softened me over the years, and grandchildren have given me a second go-around.

What I’ve come to understand is this ~ God did not reveal the Law to torment. Nor to be cruel. It was to be clear. I am not righteous and can not achieve it, no matter how hard I try. The Law was an act of mercy. It led me to the end of myself. It showed me that striving is useless. I needed a Savior.

Striving is no longer a way of life. Grace is not a theory; it is the atmosphere of abundant life. I no longer live under the old ache of failure. And that is the deepest mercy of all. In Christ, the ache of never measuring up is history. I no longer stand before God as a woman who disappoints, but as one who is beloved.

Oh, Jesus, because of You, I no longer have to bear the heaviness of inadequacy. Thank you. Amen.

Listening To Inner Regrets

For the law of the Spirit of life has set you free in Christ Jesus from the law of sin and death.  Romans 8:2

Why do we speak to ourselves this way? If our self-talk became audible, it would shock the people around us. They would hear us call ourselves idiots, hopeless losers, liars, thieves, immoral men and women, disappointments to those who love us, people with no real future. They would hear us say our sins are beyond forgiveness. This kind of inward speech is a slow death to joy. It keeps our faces turned downward. We cannot lift our heads enough to look up.

This self-hatred did not begin with us. Satan accused us first before our Father in heaven. But Jesus silenced him, declaring that we are forgiven and made righteous in Him. Failing there, the accuser came to us with the same charges, and too often we did not answer him with the same truth. His labels clung to us, and our joy drained away.

But there is a cure for regret. There is a cure for crippling guilt. There is a cure for self-loathing. It is this: my sins no longer belong to me. They were laid on Jesus two thousand years ago. Is He bowed down under their weight today? Heaven forbid. He bore them fully, paid for them dearly, and declared the work finished. He is in heaven now, not crushed, but reigning—and rejoicing that I am free. Why, then, should I live bowed down as though the cross accomplished nothing? The heaviness is real, but its authority is a lie.

For every one today who suffers for nothing, remind them through Your Spirit that we are forgiven. We are free. We are loved. And we are dressed in Your perfection. Amen

Romans 8:1 – For Further Reflection

Romans 8:1 is not a narrow doorway into freedom; it is an open gateway. “There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” But, we don’t walk into freedom as easily as we quote the verse. We carry old accusations and well-worn habits of self-sentencing.

Romans 8, as a chapter, is so incredibly rich that I want to linger on each verse for several days.  If you missed the last two devotionals on condemnation, you can find them here. 

Now on day three, these questions are meant to help us linger here a day long—not merely to admire the doctrine of no condemnation, but to ask whether it has truly reached the hidden places of our soul where accusation still speaks.  Good questions that make us dig deep end up changing us.  Know that I am reflecting on these along with you today.

Reflective Study Questions

  1. In your lived experience, what is the practical difference between conviction and condemnation? Where have you seen the enemy counterfeit one with the other?
  2. Where are you still relating to God as though your standing before Him fluctuates with your recent performance?
  3. In what ways have you unconsciously built a spirituality that still includes self-punishment?
  4. Where do you most often “send yourself back to death row” after Christ has already opened the cell?
  5. Which is harder for you to believe at the deepest level: that Christ has fully canceled your guilt, or that He still delights in you after your failure?

Questions for Deeper Formation

  1. What accusation against you has lasted so long that it now sounds like your own inner voice?
  2. What part of your story still feels “less redeemable” than the rest, and what does that reveal about your actual theology of grace?
  3. Where are you asking Christ to forgive you again for what He has already fully justified?

Questions for Leaders and Shepherds

  1. How can you tell when the women you lead are living under conviction that leads to repentance, versus condemnation that leads to hiding?
  2. In your ministry language, do you make it easier or harder for wounded women to believe that grace is stronger than their failure?
  3. Where might your own unresolved shame be shaping the tone of your counsel, teaching, or expectations of others?

When I Fear I’m Still Condemned

There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. Romans 8:1

If I’m no longer condemned, then why do I sometimes feel like I am? Because Satan entices, then he prosecutes. He reports my sin to the Father and demands that the sentence of the Law be carried out against me. Oh, how he dreams of justice without mercy!

But when he arrives in heaven to accuse me, He meets Jesus, clothed in righteousness, standing in the presence of His Father. “Therefore, since we have a great high priest who has ascended into heaven, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold firmly to the faith we profess.” Hebrews 4:14

And my Savior is ready with my defense. He does not deny that I have sinned. He answers with something greater. He lifts His wounded hands and says, “She’s forgiven. She’s justified. She is Mine.”  This is the moment when the accuser loses his footing.

Satan is a sore loser. Having lost his legal case in heaven against me, he’ll then come to me directly to voice the same accusations.  If I forget my defense and my Defender, I am vulnerable to condemnation. Satan is cunning. He knows how to mimic the voice of my conscience. But the blood has spoken, once and for all, at the cross.  So what is my strategy when the accuser comes?  I do not answer Satan with my feelings, because my feelings fail me. I answer him with this ~  I have been bought, cleansed, pardoned, and declared righteous before God.  Condemnation is relegated to my history.

No More Self-Condemnation

There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.  Romans 8:1

An old German commentator, Spener, once said that if the Bible were a ring and Romans its precious stone, then chapter 8 would be “the sparkling point of the jewel.” I believe it. It is the gospel gathered into one blazing chapter.

At times I’ve watched documentaries about prison life. Even from a distance, you can feel the weight of it as the bars close—the loss of freedom, the constant danger, the awful realization that your life is no longer your own. But the most unforgettable scenes are the pardons. The gates open. A prisoner steps out stunned, hardly able to believe it. Then comes the embrace, the tears, the disbelief that a life once thought lost has been given back.

That is the atmosphere of Romans 8. Except, I was the condemned one. I sat on death row with my guilt piled high and no argument strong enough to save me. Then the door opened. And not because I had found a defense, but because Someone else stepped forward and paid my ransom. Not a stranger. Not a neutral party. But the very One I had resisted, ignored, and sinned against. Jesus became my Savior.

That is the scandal of grace. There came a day when I understood that because of Jesus, I no longer had to live as though I were still in prison. I could entrust myself to His mercy. I could walk out of the cell and into the wide country of His love. And with time I would see that His work did more than cancel my sentence. It broke the power of my bondage. My worst sins do not get the final word over me. My failures do not have the authority to drag me back behind bars. And even when I grieve Him, I cannot be sent back to death row. The sentence was carried out ~ in Christ.

Lord Jesus, keep the sound of those prison doors opening fresh in my soul. Do not let me grow casual with mercy or forget the darkness from which You brought me. Teach me to walk in the clean air of grace, to lift my face like one set free, and to live each day astonished that the arms waiting outside the gate were Yours. Amen.

Careful Before Making a Promise

I will keep your statutes; do not utterly forsake me!  Psalm 119:8

Have you ever given a ‘yes’ to something while knowing, even as the words left your mouth, that you were stepping in over your head?

That is how this verse feels to me. David makes a bold promise: “I will keep Your statutes.” I can almost hear him take in his breath before he says it. It is the language of love, but also the language of holy inadequacy. Who can truly keep God’s statutes? Who is sufficient for this tall order? And yet David loves Him enough to offer his obedience, even knowing how fragile the human heart can be. So almost in the same breath, he adds, “Do not utterly forsake me.” He knows his need. He knows that sincere intention is not the same as sustaining power. Without the nearness of God, he will not stand.

And isn’t that the posture of every true child of God?

Everything God asks of us drives us beyond ourselves. His ways are too high for the natural mind. His commandments are not sized to human strength. His callings are God-sized. Even the greatest commandment, ‘to love the Lord with all our heart, soul, and mind’, reveals how unable we are apart from grace. We mean it when we say we love Him, and yet our loves are so easily seduced. The glitter of Babylon still catches our eye. Lesser things still charm us. Our first Love is betrayed in a hundred subtle ways.

So this verse becomes not only David’s confession, but mine. I come again today and say, with as much sincerity as I can gather, I will keep Your statutes, Lord. But I do not say it with self-confidence. I say it with dependence. Stay close to me. Hold me up. Teach me. Correct me. Strengthen what is weak in me. Because if You leave me to myself, I will wander.

Today is a new day, and once again, I will take a deep breath. I will walk in Your ways, but only because Your Holy Spirit will walk with me. Do not leave me in my frailty. Keep me near enough to obey.  Amen

Don’t Discount The Weakling!

Time is too short for me to tell about Gideon, Barak, Samson, Jephthah,  David, Samuel, and the prophets, who by faith conquered kingdoms, administered justice, obtained promises, shut the mouths of lions, quenched the raging of fire, escaped the edge of the sword, gained strength after being weak, became mighty in battle, and put foreign armies to flight.  Hebrews 11:32-3

It’s easy to assess a weak person as forever weak. They are often pigeonholed from their youth. When considering whom to choose for a position where strength is critical, the weak are usually not considered.   I must remember that the weak are made strong by God.  The degree of their weakness is immaterial.  If they trust God, rise up to obey His mandate, then watch out!

The children of Israel were always outnumbered and yet, with God, their weaknesses were paired with God’s unparalleled strength. Gideon defeated the Midianites with fragile pitchers, pieces of earthen pottery.  Samson slayed 1,000 Philistines with the jawbone of a donkey.  Historically, ill equipped saints were given beyond the natural to enable them to overcome incredible odds in the supernatural. Think of the widow and her son who were on the edge of starvation.  They had a handful of flour and a little oil left to make their last meal. God’s hand touched their meager amount of supplies and there what was little became plentiful.

God’s tactical strategies do not include the assessment of a person’s strengths.  He takes a person who loves Him, trusts Him, and though he may be weak and without resources, God completes what is lacking to make them a supernatural kingdom force.

What battle are you fighting today?  I’m in one myself. The advantage, in the natural realm, is not mine.  I can see that.  It may not be yours either.  Put the equation on paper and a disastrous outcome is sure.  If you live with someone who prizes intellect, a scientific mind who thrives on logic and solid evidence, predictions of gloom will fill your home.  Faith must be fought for.  And fight, we must.  The battle can be against the arguments of faithless children of God. This should not be but it is.

God is for you.  Not against you.  Stand up and expect a miracle.  Put it all on the line.  Offer Him what you have even if it’s far from enough.  I love J.D. Greer’s quote.  Our strength is more of a liability than an asset.  When God wants to use us, He often begins by weakening us.

The most important thing I have in my hands is helpless dependence on You.  Amen

Trusted With The Message

For our exhortation does not come from error or impurity or by way of deceit.  I Thess. 2:3

THE MESSAGE says it well.  “God tested us thoroughly to make sure we were qualified to be trusted with this Message. Be assured that when we speak to you, we’re not after crowd approval—only God’s approval. Since we’ve been put through that battery of tests, you’re guaranteed that both we and the Message are free of error, mixed motives, or hidden agendas.”

It takes a while for ‘self’ to be conquered.  When I was young, God’s will was cobwebbed with what I wanted for myself.  I pursued my dreams with a vengeance, believing that God was behind them, but eventually I began to hit one brick wall after another.  I worked double-time to demolish the mountain of bricks.  God’s will was in there somewhere, but I couldn’t separate the difference between His plan and mine. I grew depressed and became disillusioned with God; eventually, disliking my ministry.  Post-traumatic stress visited me before nearly every event.

Crashing and burning was the best thing that could have happened to me in the 90’s.  I finally died to self, and then an amazing thing happened.  I was surrounded by deafening silence.  In the stillness, I heard God’s voice.  With frenetic activity halted and my own inner voice silenced, I was able to understand how I had been driven by mixed motives and hidden agendas.  It took three years.

Because of God’s mercy, I was raised up out of the same ashes that God had burned in the fires of testing.  He was a recycling expert, using my foolishness and sin to invent something new.  God crafted a new language on my tongue; a message birthed out of the healing of my deepest shame.

People could tell and began to relax under its influence; their spirits bearing witness with God’s Spirit that what they were hearing was void of pretense.  The spiritually intuitive hearers always know.

Lord, this ministry is continually birthed in our relationship with each other.  I get it!  Amen