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The Time to Pray is Before the Shooting Starts

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I’ve noticed a disturbing trend among Christians. We are not a praying people.

Oh, we love the idea of prayer. We love sharing memes about it and ranting on social media about prayer in schools. We love organizing prayer vigils after some awful tragedy has struck. We follow the same predictable patterns of making prayer low priority until we have absolutely no other recourse but to turn to the God of the Universe.

As His children, we must start examining what it is that keeps us from prayer. Is it that we really don’t believe that God is in control? Or do we just not care what He does until He does something that negatively affects us? Do we really think that the best time to pray is after the mass shooting?

At most prayer meetings, only a fraction of the church takes time to attend. It isn’t a time issue. Parents and grandparents alike can make it to every little league game, anytime, anywhere, with three or four kids in tow. In most cases it isn’t a matter of limited mobility or poor health. The majority of us are perfectly able to meet together to pray. We just don’t want to.

Imagine how our communities and churches and schools might change if we approached the throne of God with an expectation that He will hear our prayers. With an excitement about what He will do with the pleas of His people.  Consider how things might be different if we had eyes to see how He uses our prayers to accomplish His will, if we had the faith to believe that prayer really matters.

Imagine if we weren’t afraid to humble ourselves before our God, before our family and friends and fellow believers, if we marked prayer meetings on our calendars in ink, making it clear to our children that we make prayer with fellow believers a priority in our homes. Instead, most of us hear the words “prayer meeting” and tune out. Not for us. Not important. Not worth our time.

We spend so much time worrying about the world our kids and grandkids are growing up in, so many hours scheming and planning ways to shelter them, and so little time talking to the One who can actually change things. If you want to know the truth, it isn’t the youth of today or the evil governments or the wicked schemes of man that make me fear for the future. It’s the empty prayer meetings.

“The Cinderella of the Church today is the prayer meeting. This handmaid of the Lord is unloved and unwooed because she is not dripping with pearls of intellectualism, nor glamorous with the silks of philosophy, neither is she enchanting with the tiara of psychology. She wears the homespuns of sincerity and humility and so is not afraid to kneel.” – Leonard Ravenhill

I Deserve This: One of My Heart’s Favorite Lies

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The world has watched it over and over again. US Women’s Soccer Co-Captain Megan Rapinoe stands with one leg propped on a railing, balancing the World Cup trophy on her bent knee. She holds a bottle of champagne and thrusts her chin in the air, loudly declaring behind pink sunglasses: “I deserve this.” When her teammate asks Megan what she deserves, the answer is simple: “Everything.”

Glamour claims that this moment is a “mood.” Others have called it an inspiration and a battle cry for women everywhere. I suppose for once in my life I would have to agree with Glamour. I do see Megan’s declaration as a mood. It’s a mood that I recognize because I have so often lived in it–that space inside my own mind and heart where I tell myself that I deserve more. I deserve better. I am owed. I am underappreciated.

This snippet of video has caused all kinds of controversy online. Despite the claims that this is a bright moment for women, many recognize the problem with a team co-captain hoarding glory after a victory. As human beings, we like to see the moments when a sports hero gives all the credit to her teammates. We love watching a star quarterback insist that his team made it all possible. When someone is greedy for glory, even a very talented someone, it makes it difficult for us to admire them. There is something inside of human beings that recognizes that humility is a superior quality.

The reason behind this, of course, is a spiritual one. When we see humility in someone, we are recognizing, even if we don’t realize it, a Christlikeness. We are seeing the image of God reflected clearly in another, and it is beautiful. Even those who have never heard the name of Jesus are innately drawn to a humble hero, as literature through the ages clearly illustrates. Everyone loves an unassuming champion, and we generally despise a gloating victor.

Even though the Glamour editors will tell you that anyone who isn’t keen on Megan Rapinoe’s swagger is anti-woman, the truth is that most people can’t help being repulsed by such overt self-promotion and boasting coming from any man, woman, or child. This feeling, like all desires for nobler and higher ways, is one way the breath of God imbibes us all–when our created hearts see reflections of our Creator in others, and we are drawn to the qualities of Christ. Even the godless can’t resist the urge to cheer on the humble winner and scorn the proud bragger.

For those of us who are in Christ, let Megan’s “I deserve this” moment be a cautionary tale. As much as we are drawn to humility in others, we are prone to prideful self-promotion ourselves. We can be disgusted by another’s pride while overlooking our own, and we so quickly forget that every single good gift comes from the Lord. We love taking credit. We love being singled out for praise and glory. Pretending that we see something in Megan Rapinoe that we don’t daily battle within ourselves is as false as false can be. In reality we are all glory hogs, and we all need a Savior. He bore the awful weight of what we truly deserve, and when our lying hearts start to tell us all of the things we are owed, let us remember the cross. Jesus received a punishment He didn’t deserve to bring us a mercy we could never earn. We deserve nothing. He gives us everything.

You won’t read that in Glamour magazine. You won’t see it in any viral videos. It is more than a “mood” or a moment. It is Life. I’m grateful that God gives us what we don’t deserve to rescue us from what we do.

The Lord is Building This House

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Today a friend of ours was on my mind. I don’t always do a good job of praying for those who come to my mind, even though I know I should. But, today I prayed for him. I know that he is facing a tough time at work, and I know he has a challenging job where people (even his friends) are sometimes unhappy with the decisions he has to make. I sent him a text, just a quick word of support to let him know that Chad and I appreciate and pray for him. I suppose I was expecting that he needed the encouragement.

What I didn’t expect is that I would be encouraged, too. Our friend replied right away, telling me that he had gotten up early to walk through the neighborhood before work, and that he had prayed for us as he walked past our house. And, just like that, in two text messages, the Lord let both our friend’s family and mine know that He is moving. That He is empowering and encouraging our church through our prayers for one another.  He showed us that He is working here, through friendship and accountability, through an obligation to each other as brothers and sisters in Christ.

I believe that this is some of the most beautiful work of the church. It’s the little ways that we gird each other up that make all the difference as we walk this narrow path together. When we pray for each other, when we take just a few seconds to reach out, even if we are just saying, “Hey, I see what you’re doing, and I appreciate it,” we are building a stronger body, one that is a true family, a team, and a source of endless encouragement.

I wonder how often God has brought someone to my mind, only to watch me push the thought away because I was too distracted by my phone or a child or my own problems?  The Bible tells us to encourage each other and build each other up, but I fear that we get so wrapped up in ourselves that we sometimes miss opportunities to do so. I know that I do.

Today I’m thankful for the reminder. As churches, we should pray for each other and when we do, we should let each other know. I can’t think of a better way to remind each other that God is at work in our hearts, in our minds, in our relationships. I’m grateful for the encouragement sent my way today by a friend who humbled himself before the Lord on my account. This is one way God builds a church that thrives.

Why We Go to Church on Vacation

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Today I found myself sitting down to make a list of all of the things that I’ll need to pack for our family of five for our upcoming vacation. We try to escape for a few days every summer, a chance for my pastor husband to get away, at least physically, from the demands of being everyone’s go-to guy when things get tough. I don’t think that it’s really possible for either of us to leave our dear church behind in our heads or hearts (nor do we want to), but it’s so nice and necessary to spend some time focusing on our little family having fun together.

Some years our vacation plans cause us to miss a Sunday at our church, and on those years we all get excited about choosing a church to visit while we’re away. Now, you may wonder why in the world a pastor’s family would look forward to going to church on vacation. Isn’t going to any church sort of like going to work? And the simple answer to that question is no. Church is not work. It’s our family, our support system, our place of worship, and our lifeline to the truth of God’s word. The church is not just a place we go–it’s who we are.

I remember when Chad and I were newlyweds. The first Sunday of our new life together rolled around, and he cheerfully hopped out of bed and informed me that we were going to church. I had a more lenient view of church attendance–I thought that it was no big deal to skip a Sunday here and there, especially in your first week of marriage. But, Chad set a precedent that morning that we have stuck to through the past twenty years. There is really and truly no place we would rather be than in God’s house on Sunday mornings, partly because God has used that faithfulness in worship to bless us in so many ways through the years that I couldn’t even begin to write them all down.

There are a few other reasons that we wouldn’t dare miss the opportunity to worship with our fellow believers on a vacation Sunday.

1. It’s encouraging.

It’s an encouragement to visit churches in other parts of the country while we travel. It gives us an opportunity to witness what God is doing in other places, and it reminds us that He is working in so many ways that we don’t see. Walking into a building and knowing that we have a deep connection with a bunch of strangers just because we all love the Lord is really uplifting and reminds us of the sweet fellowship of Heaven.

2. It sends a message to our children.

Something seems very wrong about being blessed beyond belief by a fun vacation and then flouting a chance to worship the One who provided it. When we make church attendance a priority all the time (even on vacation), we show our kids that worship is not all about a place or certain friends or familiarity, but it is about Jesus. It helps us to focus and to remind our kids that this is a way of life, not just a ritual or routine. Even when it might not be familiar or completely convenient, we are still going to find a church and honor our Savior on Sundays.

3. It’s fun.

We have a great time entering a church as guests and experiencing the way that another church does things. It sparks lively conversations afterward about what they are doing and how they’re doing it. Often it inspires us to come back home to our own church and institute some great idea that we got from a church on vacation. It’s fascinating to see how other awesome churches operate, and we always enjoy trying something different that’s out of our normal routine.

4. Where else would we be?

For our kids, it’s a no-brainer. If it’s Sunday, we’re at church, even when we’re away from home. They would be shocked and dismayed if a Sunday came and went and we spent it sleeping in or even lying on the beach, not because they are trying to be rule-following do-gooders, but because they have learned to love worship, and their very best memories of life have happened right inside church buildings. They have discovered, like we have, that inside the church we find hope, truth, and love. So, where else would we be on a Sunday?

God provides so many sweet opportunities to worship during our short time on earth, and His people have been such a source of joy and friendship and encouragement through the years. I’m grateful for that late May day back in 1999 when my brand new husband declared that on Sundays, we worship. It has made all the difference. When we vacation, we don’t want to take a break from being who we are. We’re grateful to be God’s children, and we enjoy being with our brothers and sisters worshiping Him, no matter where we may roam. I thank God for the privilege. May we never take it for granted.

When Others Fall

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Too often as Christians we have a tendency to feel a strange sense of pride when we hear that a fellow Christian has fallen into sin. We share prayer requests for Christians who are caught up in disobedience, and we shake our heads with concern, inwardly judging that we are doing better than that fallen one, that we may not be perfect, but at least we aren’t where he is. We grow pride-puffed with even the slightest indication that we are more righteous than another. But, there could be no feeling in the world more in tune with the devil himself than pride, especially in the face of another’s sin problem.

Instead of feeling proud of ourselves when we hear about a sin issue in another, we should be filled with fear and conviction, knowing that in our next breath it could just as easily be us. Our immediate reaction should be humility and trembling, remembering that we, too, are vulnerable to any manner of temptation. In fact, the second we decide we have become elevated beyond any sin, we have invited pride into our hearts, making our own goodness an idol to be toppled.

Sin should always a be a source of grief, whether we are observing it in ourselves or in someone else. Pride has no place here. We are but sinners saved by the grace of a holy, majestic God, and when we begin to feel proud of ourselves, when we begin to take credit and pat ourselves on the back, looking down on those sinners who aren’t as far along on the path to perfection as we are, we had better brace ourselves for a fall of epic proportions. Realistically, when we allow pride to grow in our hearts, when we ooze outwardly with compassion for a sinner but smile inwardly with self-regard, we have already fallen into a pit of sin.

We must resist the urge to compare our best moments to someone else’s worst. As Christians we have only one touchstone: Jesus Christ. When we keep Him in steady view, we are much less likely to be wooed by our own good deeds, and we are much more likely to have genuine compassion for our fellow sinners.

A Picture of Joy (and Anguish)

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People often don’t believe me when I say that I was in labor for 30 hours with my first child. But, I was there. I fully experienced every single one of the 1,800 or so minutes that finally, finally led up to the birth of our long-awaited precious daughter. I had never birthed a child before, and my first experience looked nothing like the movies. There was no dash to the hospital, no series of comical, zany roadblocks causing us to barely make it there in time. For me, it was a drudgery of many long, fearful hours and one night that I thought would never end, wondering what was normal, what was reasonable, and why my body wouldn’t just do what it was supposed to do.

Nurses called the doctor on call. He wasn’t inclined to come in. He wasn’t inclined to see me induced. He wasn’t inclined to allow me an epidural. He didn’t seem inclined to help me much at all, and I felt alone. Exhausted. I was in pain and I was anxious and I didn’t know what to do or what to expect, because this birth story was turning out nothing like the books said it would.

The sun must have just begun to peek over the west Texas horizon when our baby was finally born. It was just after 6am. I had spent part of New Year’s Eve and all of New Year’s Day laboring to bring this child into our world. It was now the second morning of a new year, and the first moment that I laid eyes on our sweet Adelade.

The Bible talks about childbirth a lot. Various prophecies describe childbirth as anguish, severe mental or physical suffering. I wouldn’t be able to use that word to describe my next two births. They were quick, easy, and my mind was more at ease. But, the hours I spent laboring to safely deliver Adelade into this world were anguished. Mental and physical suffering played major roles in my New Year’s Day back in 2005, and right at about three o’clock in the morning on January 2nd, I wondered how I would ever be able to talk myself into birthing another child when this ordeal was over.

But then she was born, and in a half second, all of the fear and misery and loneliness disappeared. My face, twisted with pain and hard work, suddenly spread into a wide smile as I looked with utter relief into the face of my child. I knew in that moment that I would do it all again, sign me up for another thirty hours, just for one opportunity to gaze at this mysterious little human being.

Jesus talks about this very moment in a mother’s life. Jesus, the maker and ruler of everything, our empathetic God (Hebrews 4:15), sits with His disciples as His own anguish is already beginning, far beyond what we can imagine. And He tells His closest friends that they, too, will experience pain and anguish, but like a mother who sees her child’s face for the first time, they will smile again. Their sorrow will be replaced by instant joy. (John 16:21)

Jesus, as He enters into His darkest hours, as He considers what His loved ones will endure, is thinking about a woman like me. He is thinking about women who, from the beginning of time, have identified with Christ through our anguish, laboring to bring forth a life that He created. He knows that His disciples will soon begin to identify with Him, too, and He brings a picture to their minds. A picture of a woman, groaning and grimacing and writhing and coming as near to death as she probably ever has, only to suddenly be met with the blessing of a lifetime. And this is the image that He plants in this moment, right into the minds and hearts of those He loves, those who will be met in a matter of hours with their worst nightmare. I wonder if any of them looked there again, to that portrait that Jesus had painted: a woman, exhausted, bleeding, trembling with sheer fatigue, her face now plastered with a huge grin as the sweat and tears mingle together on her pink cheeks. She beholds her child. And her anguish dissipates in an instant.

Joy comes in the morning. In my case, six in the morning.

And when Jesus appeared again, did His disciples finally understand what He meant when He sketched a tired mother in their minds? Complete joy filled their hearts, and all the anguish of the previous days was wiped away. Their Savior really is who He said He is. And what else really matters?

Later, when each of His disciples faced new troubles, new anguish, persecution, torture, desertion, or death, I wonder if they remembered these words of Christ. I wonder if they looked with fresh spiritual eyes at every woman holding a new baby, reminded once again that in the end, no matter what befalls us in this uncertain life, there is always a certain hope for the end of all anguish. A new morning is ever on the horizon of the Christian life, a new day where all sorrows are erased forever. When we see that day and the things of earth grow dim, I wonder if we will be surprised by how easy it turns out to be to exchange the anguish for pure joy.

[Mortals] say of some temporal suffering, “No future bliss can make up for it,” not knowing Heaven, once attained, will work backwards and turn even that agony into a glory.
-C.S. Lewis

God’s Glory May Be in the Scars

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She’s a petite woman with a penchant for wearing sparkles. Chad and I first met her out in East Texas when she would arrive with gusto at different community events, her husband and daughter smiling behind her while she invariably grinned in her honest way and “told a funny.” They’re a singing trio, all extremely talented, but she is the talker of the family, and she weaves stories about God’s goodness throughout their concerts. I was reminded of this when she and her family stood before our little church on Sunday. It’s been years since we laid eyes on the three of them, but they drove out west and delivered the same heartfelt singing and story-telling that I remembered from days past.

Something was different, though. This little sparkly, joyful woman has been struggling through an autoimmune disorder, and when she walked into our church on Sunday, she did so with apologies. Her always-smiling face bears the marks of the disease that she has been battling. She placed her hands gingerly on her pink cheeks, wanting in some way to hide the signs of illness that she felt had to be explained. She was self-conscious and embarrassed by her appearance. Yet, she smiled as usual. And she thanked God. And she got up on a platform in front of hundreds of people and worshiped Him.

I sat on the front row and felt blessed to be a witness to this moment. I have no doubt that she would have been perfectly content to hide in her room while this disease alters her face. She could have easily justified her choice to stop singing, to stop traveling, to stop having this experience of explaining over and over again to a brand new group of people why her face is so changed. Yet, here she was, glorifying God all the more as she stood to honor Him even now and especially now, singing and speaking of His goodness and His faithfulness and of her desire to bring Him glory. In essence she reminded us that it’s not about her face. It’s about Jesus.

I felt sharp pangs of conviction there at the foot of the platform. I had beautiful skin as a teenager, but for unknown reasons when I turned twenty my skin turned on me. I have struggled with acne for all of my adult life and my face bears the scars. At times I become virtually obsessed with my imperfect skin, wishing for something better and different, wondering how I could hide it, bury it, disguise it. Many a day I have wished that I could stay in my house, stay home from church, stay away from my friends and family, sit at home and wallow in misery over the face that I don’t have. Chances are we all have some insecurity that could easily hold us back from doing the work God has for us. We all could find reasons to stay at home and wallow in our obsessions over things that aren’t that important.

On Sunday I sat on the front row, my teen-aged daughter at my elbow. I wondered if she and I would take this moment to heart, if we would remember how one little East Texas woman stood before us with her pink, swollen cheeks, with her insecurities displayed for everyone to freely observe. I wondered if we would remember the lesson that the Holy Spirit gently taught that day, that God’s glory is sometimes more clearly displayed when we are at our most vulnerable. That our struggles and our sufferings are never wasted in the hands of a good God. That even when healing hasn’t arrived, when things are just as bad today as they were yesterday, He can still receive glory and honor through His children.

Chances are that my daughter will remember this lesson more clearly if she sees it in me. So, I’m thankful for the picture that is burned in my mind, a sequin-clad singer with a face that told a tale of God’s glory. May I remember it forever.

Distrust of the World Should be a Mark of Christianity

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Oh, Momo. I’ve grown weary of the outrage and the panic and the shock over this overblown and not all that impactful scary monster of the internet. If you are shocked by the notion of Momo, then there is a whole wide world of truly terrifying things on the internet that are going to send you into a tizzy. To be honest, some largely folklore-ish chicken lady with bugged out eyes is the least of our internet worries.

Parents, even Christian parents, are far too trusting of what the world produces. If it has the label “for kids” on it, parents put it in their child’s hands without a hint of worry. American Christians are practically experts at burying their heads in the sand, choosing to allow their children to consume things that are vaguely bothersome, but if it’s made for kids, then how bad can it really be? Parents make decisions without stopping to consider who is producing the content that their children are being exposed to. They choose not to dwell on the fact that a biblical worldview is repugnant to most who create programming and gaming for children, and they blindly trust that what some vague strangers have cooked up for their children is wholesome, edifying, and maybe more truthfully, distracting and entertaining.

Meanwhile, their children spend hours on some days letting the world pour knowledge and understanding and paradigms of thinking into their hearts and minds. Christian parents, just feet away in some cases, are completely oblivious to the fact that what their children are learning has nothing to do with godliness, goodness, or even logical constructs of human interaction.

As Christians we should have at least enough wisdom to understand that we cannot trust this world. The Bible clearly teaches us that we are not home–we are aliens in a world that seeks to destroy us (Hebrews 13:14, 1 Peter 5:8-9). Jesus said: “If the world hates you, keep in mind that it hated me first. If you belonged to the world, it would love you as its own. As it is, you do not belong to the world, but I have chosen you out of the world. That is why the world hates you” (John 15:18-19). 

If we believe the Bible then we must let it inform the way we think and act. Too often we buy into the idea that people are basically good and trustworthy, even though scripture repeatedly tells us otherwise. If we believe what Jesus taught then we have to take a few steps back and view parenthood through the lens He created for us: this world is bad. Really bad. And the last precious little things we should trust it with are our children.

I don’t say these things to cause us to lose hope as we raise children in these times. God knew exactly which times we would be called to raise children in. He has placed us here for a purpose and will give us His power through the Holy Spirit to make decisions that reflect our worldview. No, I am not trying to discourage parents. I write these things because I tire of Christians being so shocked by how wicked this world is. I get frustrated by the fact that parents won’t listen and learn and know what is out there and what the facts are. I grow weary of Christian parents not having a biblical worldview, not being committed to a way of living that is different from the world, and it is somewhat deflating when I see Christian parents go into a full-blown panic over something like Momo when what is really damaging the hearts and minds of our kids is much more common and insidious. The very devices you are handing them, Moms and Dads, are teaching them a whole set of values. Do you know what those values are? Do you know what this world wants to teach your kids? Do you know how hard some are working to turn the hearts of your children away from God and away from you? Because it is happening, whether you want to admit it or not.

It is so easy to point to some ridiculousness like Momo and call it evil. It takes much more diligence, much more seeking the Lord, much more study and prayer and awareness and determination to realize all of the more innocent-looking ways that the world is setting up camp in your living room through your kids’ devices. What IS your worldview? And how are you teaching it to your children? All of the Momo panic has highlighted at least one thing: this world is bad. But then, Jesus already told us that.

These are strange times for raising children. We can’t do it without Bibles in our hands and God’s word in our hearts.  We need knowledge of the Truth before we can combat the lies. And we need a deep down, urgent sense of how little trust that this world deserves, especially when it comes to our children. And in all of this, still, we can parent with optimism: Jesus is our hope and our children’s salvation. “I have told you these things so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world” (John 16:33).

Why I See Bright Hope in Our Children’s Generation

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This weekend I spoke at a retreat for preteen girls. We didn’t talk about modesty or boys or makeup tips. We didn’t discuss friendship or time management. Instead we spent the day dwelling on the absolute, perfect truth of God’s word. We talked about the Bible as the authority for all of life and Jesus as the answer to our very real and very present sin problem.

In the afternoon I had a meeting with mothers, and we sat together and faced the realities of this world that we are trying to raise disciples in. My fourteen year old Adelade sat on the front row and listened to us discuss everything from pornography to YouTube to sex education, and as our time came to an end, she quietly asked if she could say something. Then, in her level-headed, calm way, she encouraged the mothers to talk with their children early and often about sexuality, since so many of her own eighth grade classmates are struggling to understand where on the growing spectrum of sexuality that they fall.

When I was a preteen, a girls’ retreat would be focused on more superficial things. We would hear that we are doing great and that God finds us beautiful and that if we want friends we have to be friends. We would have been told that Christian girls don’t wear skirts that are too short and we may have even had a makeup demonstration. Nothing is wrong with these things, but those things aren’t what we really needed to hear.

We were living in a culture that didn’t often demand more from our churches.

But, our kids are growing up in a completely different world. It isn’t going to be enough to urge them to change their behavior. It isn’t going to be enough to tell them Bible stories as morality lessons or to equip them with self-help advice. The culture of their youth is awakening churches to rediscover the true gospel, to re-establish in the hearts of the people the reality that God’s word is the ultimate authority in our lives, to show us just how far we are from a holy God, to wave His standards of holiness like a banner, to throw His grace and mercy to a dying world like the life-and-soul-preservers that they are. For our children, repentance will be the theme of their growing up, perseverance in the face of a culture gone cold to the ways of God. They will have to grow a true, faith-fueled, God-honoring relationship with the Lord to survive the world in which they will come of age. No half-baked religious play time will be enough to sustain these boys and girls. They will have to rise as men and women of great faith, of total conviction, of solid doctrine, of sound theology. They will have to know and love God’s word, and they will have to know and love God.

Otherwise, in this age of anything goes but Jesus, they will crumble and fall away from the superficial religion that we tried to bubble wrap them in. Our kids don’t need to be hidden away. They don’t need for us to pretend the biggest issue they’re going to face is whether girls should call boys. Not in a world where preteens are sending naked pictures to each other. They need to be armed with the truth, both the truth of what the culture surrounding them really is and the truth of what the Bible really is.

I see this happening more and more. I see a generation that is being taught a biblical worldview, that is learning like no other American generation has had to before what kind of faith that it takes to stand up to lies, distortions, persecution, and hatred. It see it in my own daughter–she needs more to cling to than cliches and Christian tshirts. She needs a true, solid, unshakable faith that informs her every thought as she analyzes the world around her. She needs a worldview that is rooted in scripture. She needs the eyes and mind of Christ. No nominal faith will be enough for her–not in this world that wants to devour her heart and soul.

I believe we will soon see a generation that may be fewer in number but more firm in faith than any we have seen for a long time. These kids are growing up with extreme pressure from outside forces, a pressure that I believe will press them even more firmly into the shape of Jesus Christ as we guide them according to the very words of God. I have a bright hope for the kind of bold, God-fearing disciples we will see rise from the ashes of their generation. May God bless them as they glorify His name, blinding lights in an otherwise dark and depressing world. I believe He will do it.

We’ll Give Up Everything But Our Entitlement

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I spend a lot of time thinking about the future of Christianity. I think about the coming days of the country that I live in, and I wonder what we will be called to suffer through as our culture turns more and more anti-Christian and anti-Bible. I often pray that my family and I will have the faith to trust God through whatever may come. I tend to dwell on the big, hypothetical scenarios, wondering how I would react in different frightening or threatening situations: would my belief in Christ hold up to the worst possible things that could happen?

It’s easy to focus on a world of hypotheticals. To think of grand gestures of faith that would please the Lord. To consider how I might glorify Him if I were called to suffer in various (unlikely) circumstances.

What’s more difficult is looking at my present situation. How does my faith hold up here, with very little (if any) suffering, with a packed schedule and lots of responsibilities but a mostly extremely pleasant, if tiring, life? It amazes me how quickly I begin to feel put-upon. How often I will grumble and complain about my responsibilities at church or the small inconveniences of dealing with other human beings. It shocks me how regularly I feel like I deserve something more or better: a paycheck, a pat on the back, a compliment, more enthusiasm from others for what I am doing.

If I want to get brutally honest about my heart, it is entitled to its very core. My heart wants recognition, special treatment, a pedestal to perch on. As much as I hate to admit it, I can imagine all day long what my faith could hold up to in some far-fetched scenario that I dream up, but in my day-to-day, I can’t even give up my own desire for more comfort, more free time, more recognition, more glory. The sad truth is that I live such a privileged life that I don’t even handle slight discomfort or slight stress well. And if you really want to get down to it, you probably have some of the same heart issues.

We are so sure we would give up everything for Christ, even our very lives if we were called to, but we can’t even let go of our feeling that we deserve good things that we aren’t getting. Yes, we feel we deserve more, even in middle our pleasant, happy, comfortable, blessed lives.

No wonder David’s prayer rings true when we read it: “Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me.” (Ps. 51:10) It speaks to us because we know that we all have lying hearts that tell us we deserve more and better. Hearts that feed our pride and lead us to feel mistreated, misunderstood, and more holy than we actually are.

We would give up anything, we say. Anything at all to prove our love for Christ. Yet, we cling to our sense of entitlement and we let it steal our joy in serving the Lord.

True faith that bears fruit isn’t really found in the hypotheticals. It’s discovered here, now, in the daily act of dying to ourselves and to our sense of all the things we’re entitled to receive. Taking up a cross is no way to achieve success as the world defines it. It is no way to get honor and recognition and pats on the back. But it is the way to know Christ more. It is the way to identify with our Savior.

This is what a faith that has real effect looks like: it is humble and lowly and recognizes the need to be continually rescued from a desire for things that we don’t deserve. Our hearts are deceitfully wicked. Even we can’t understand them. But, God can. And He knows just how to tame them. Show us the way, Lord.

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