Walk in His Providence : How God Opens Doors for You

Article by Scott Hubbard

When the master in Jesus’s parable gave talents to his servants and went away, two got busy multiplying their master’s money, and one hid his talent in the dirt. Something similar can happen when people like us hear about the providence of God.

On the one hand, few doctrines have inflamed more holy ambition in the hearts of God’s people. When some hear that God rules over galaxies and governments, over winds and waves, and over every detail in our little lives (Ephesians 1:11), they get busy doing good. Christians gripped by providence have built hospitals, ended slave trades, founded orphanages, launched reformations, and pierced the darkness of unreached peoples.

On the other hand, few doctrines have been used more often to excuse passivity, sloth, and the sovereignty of the status quo. When some hear that God reigns over all, they reach for the remote, kick up their feet, take sin a little less seriously, bury their talents six feet under. They may do good when the opportunity arises, when the schedule allows, but they will rarely search for good to do.

How could the all-pervasive providence of God energize some and paralyze others? How could it cause some to blaze boldly into the unknown, and others to putter on the same tired paths, rarely dreaming, never risking?

Waiting for an Open Door

When William Carey, the pioneering missionary to India, first proposed the idea of sending Christians to unreached places, an older pastor reportedly protested, “Sit down, young man, sit down and be still. When God wants to convert the heathen, he will do it without consulting either you or me.”

Such an application of God’s providence is simplistic, unbiblical, irresponsible — and yet also understandable. Though many of us would never make such a statement, we have our own ways of allowing providence to lull us into passivity. Consider the common language of waiting or praying for “an open door.”

The phrase “open door” comes from the apostle Paul (Colossians 4:3–4), yet many of us use the phrase in ways the apostle didn’t. Paul prayed for open doors, yes, but then he vigorously turned handles (compare 1 Corinthians 16:8–9 with Acts 19:1–10). Many of us, on the other hand, sit in the hallway of life, waiting until a divine hand should swing a door open and push us through it.

Too often, by saying, “There was no open door,” we mean that there was no obvious, divine orchestration of events that made our path unmistakable. “I didn’t share the gospel because no one seemed interested.” “I didn’t have that hard conversation because we just never ran into each other.” “I didn’t confess that sin because there didn’t seem to be a good time.” Providence, if distorted, can excuse us from all manner of uncomfortable duties.

When William Carey gazed toward India, he did not see what we might call an open door: fifty million Muslims and Hindus living half a world and two oceans away. Hence the pastor’s response. Yet Carey went anyway, believing that God, in his providence, could make a way where there seemed to be no way. And India is still bearing fruit from his faith.

For Such a Time as This

Carey found his inspiration, of course, from dozens of men and women in Scripture who ventured forth into discomfort and danger by the power of God’s providence.

Where did Jonathan find the courage to attack an army with only his armor-bearer at his side? Providence: “Come, . . . it may be that the Lord will work for us, for nothing can hinder the Lord from saving by many or by few” (1 Samuel 14:6). How did Esther muster the courage to risk the king’s fury? Providence: “Who knows whether you have not come to the kingdom for such a time as this?” (Esther 4:14). Why did David step toward Goliath with only a sling and five stones? Providence: “The Lord who delivered me from the paw of the lion and from the paw of the bear will deliver me from the hand of this Philistine” (1 Samuel 17:37).

“God has planned for some doors to open only as we push them.”

Some hear, “God reigns over all,” and think, “Then what difference could my effort make?” Others, like Jonathan, Esther, and David, heard, “God reigns over all,” and thought, “Then God can use even my effort, small though it is.” And so, after thinking, weighing, and praying, they went forth — not always sure that God would prosper their plans, but deeply confident that, if he wanted to, no force in heaven or on earth could stop him.

In other words, they knew their God ruled in heaven. They saw a need on the earth. And with “Your kingdom come” burning through the chambers of their hearts (Matthew 6:10), they dreamed up something new for the sake of his name.

Act the Providence of God

Perhaps, for some of us, the difficulty lies here: we expect to react to the providence of God, but not to act the providence of God.

Some of us live as though providence were something only to react to. We wait for a clear, providential open door, and then we react to that providence by walking through the doorway. But as we’ve seen, God has planned for some doors to open only as we push them. He has planned for us to act his providence.

Paul gives us the clearest biblical expression of this dynamic in Philippians 2:12–13: “Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure.” Notice: Our work does not follow God’s work. Rather, our work is the simultaneous effect of God’s work. Or as John Piper writes, “What Paul makes plain here is how fully our own effort is called into action. We do not wait for the miracle; we act the miracle” (Providence, 652).

Sometimes, to be sure, God is pleased to place some good work right in our lap. Perhaps someone really does ask about the hope that is in us, or the hard conversation we need to have opens easily and naturally. In moments like these, we do indeed react to God’s providence. But God can be just as active in us when our effort is fully involved: when we invite a neighbor over to study the Bible together, or when we arrange a time and place for the difficult talk.

We need not wait for something unmistakably divine, something unquestionably providential, before we work out our salvation in all kinds of obedience. Instead, we need only see some good work to do, entrust ourselves to God through earnest prayer, work hard in conscious dependence on him, and then, once finished, turn around and say with Paul, “It was not I, but the grace of God that is with me” (1 Corinthians 15:10). And thus we act the providence of God.

Imagine Good

In his providence, God has prepared good works for us to walk in (Ephesians 2:10). But many of them will not come as we passively drift beneath God’s providence. They will come to us, instead, as we strain our renewed minds, bend our born-again imaginations, and fashion possibilities in the factory of our new hearts — knowing that every good resolve is a spark of his providence.

“You are who you are, what you are, where you are, because of the all-pervasive providence of God.”

So look around you. Nothing about your life is an accident. You are who you are, what you are, where you are, because of the all-pervasive providence of God. He has given you whatever talents you have, in his wisdom, for such a time as this — so that you would add a stroke to the canvas in front of you, chisel away at the statue you see, speak and act in the drama you’re in, so that this world looks a little more like the work of art God is redeeming it to be.

There are neighbors to befriend, children to disciple, churches to plant, crisis-pregnancy centers to serve, and a thousand tasks at our jobs to do with excellence and love. And how will we know if God, in his providence, has opened a door for any of these opportunities? We will pray and turn the handle.

Posted at: https://www.desiringgod.org/articles/walk-in-his-providence?utm_source=facebook&utm_medium=3a7962eb-db61-4abd-9583-1fab135f4087&utm_content=article&utm_campaign=new%20teaching&fbclid=IwAR1rAyID2zKu6RoRrwExZG7qDZLi8m3JyFWII1PrpBL1-ZMwXw4drmyM4wk

Remembering God’s Faithfulness in the Face of a Detour

by Dave Harvey

Traffic stood still. That’s never a good thing when you’re traversing the Pennsylvania Turnpike. After thirty minutes without moving, curiosity began to take over. Drivers turned off their ignitions and shed their seat belts in search of fresh air and accident information. The guy behind me walked forward and a conversation ensued. Over the next three hours, he poured out his story of pain, loss, and disappointment. I shared how Christ answers the deepest longings of the heart. I hope he heard me. Four hours later, traffic began to inch forward. I shifted into drive, marveling at how God fills unexpected detours with kingdom purpose. 

In 2 Samuel 6, we meet David as the prophet Samuel anoints him king. Samuel had asked Jesse, David’s father, to gather his sons. There were eight boys altogether but only seven were invited to the anointing party. David was left out in the fields because Jesse assumed that God would never choose a ruddy shepherd boy. But the truth is that God loves to take the least likely—the least likely people and the least likely moments—and use them to magnify his strength.  

After he was anointed, David was phenomenal. He slew Goliath and dominated in battle. After David’s victories, a new song hit the top of the charts in Israel, “Saul has struck down his thousands and David his ten thousands” (1 Sam. 18:7). When King Saul heard the crowds singing for young David, he was enraged with jealousy. He attacked David and sent him fleeing for his life. The future king and great warrior became a fugitive. He was constantly on the run and ended up living in a cave. David had been a rising star, but he became a fleeing felon with hit squads trying to track him down. 

It was a major detour; more significant by far than being stuck in traffic on the Turnpike. David was lonely, despairing, afflicted, and in need of deliverance. But from that place of desolation, he prayed Psalm 57: 

I cry out to God Most High, to God who fulfills his purpose for me. He will send from heaven and save me; he will put to shame him who tramples on me. Selah. God will send out his steadfast love and faithfulness (Ps. 57:2–3). 

In that moment of desolation, David looked to the past and said, “God, you’ve been faithful before, and you’ll be faithful again.” Later the apostle Paul would echo the same sentiment. In the midst of his own tragic detour he wrote, “He delivered us from such a deadly peril, and he will deliver us. On him we have set our hope that he will deliver us again” (2 Cor. 1:10).

How about you? Do you trust God’s faithfulness to deliver again in the midst of your daily detours? Perhaps you feel it now each time you leave your home: the great unknown awaits out in public. Masked faces populate public places, reminding us that we’re not in Kansas anymore. Restrictions are being lifted, but the coronavirus remains present. There are risks that are punctuated each time the press reports a small outbreak. Where do you look in the midst of this unexpected reality? What shall we say to these things? 

Follow David and Paul’s example of faith. Look to the ways God has delivered in the past: “If God is for us who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things?” (Rom 8:31–32) What father wouldn’t run to his kids in their moment of weakness? Whatever detours you’re facing—tribulation or distress, pandemic or persecution, you can have confidence that your God is present with you. He has delivered at the cross, and he will be faithful to deliver again. You may even find that he’s given you a gospel opportunity in the midst of a detour. 

Editor’s Note: This originally published at RevDaveHarvey.com

Dave Harvey

Dave Harvey (D. Min – Westminster Theological Seminary) is the president of Great Commission Collective, Dave pastored for 33 years and founded AmICalled.com. Dave travels widely across networks and denominations as a popular conference speaker. He is the author of When Sinners Say “I Do”, Am I Called, Rescuing Ambition, and co-authored Letting Go: Rugged Love for Wayward Souls. Dave’s recent release is titled I Still Do! Growing Closer and Stronger Through Life’s Defining Moments. Dave and his wife, Kimm, have four kids and four grandchildren and live in southwest Florida. (For videos or articles, visit www.revdaveharvey.com)

Posted at: https://ftc.co/resource-library/blog-entries/remembering-gods-faithfulness-in-the-face-of-a-detour/

Help! I Feel Like a Failure

GREG PHELAN

I’ve been working on some projects that are just not moving forward. My boss has recently shut some of them down, and I can’t help but feel I’ve wasted a lot of time on things that failed. This is difficult, because I prayed diligently and worked as hard as I could on them. How can I let go of this frustration and feeling of failure?

If I’ve experienced anything the last few months, it’s consistent failure. As my available time has shrunk in half, the unforgiving limit of 24 hours in a day has shut down more projects than I even realized I was working on. In my case, and I suspect I’m not alone, failure is a central part of life these days.

For many of us, work is shot through with “supply shocks”: we have less time, less access, less capability, less support—and more demands—than ever before. At the same time, we may carry more responsibilities for aging parents or sick relatives or children out of school. Our work—both formal and informal—requires more of us, but from fewer resources than before.

On our own, we can’t do more with less. Our work goes unfinished. Our tempers get the best of us. Our words are harsh and unkind. Hopefulness evaporates. The inward curve of our souls turns deeper.

God made us finite and our world is broken. A boss shutting down a project is but one picture of that. We won’t escape failure, but we can find hope in it.

Our Failure Isn’t God’s Failure

First, what looks like failure to us—what might be failure on our end—could be something else in God’s economy. Consider the first martyr. Stephen, rising star and gifted leader in the church, gave an impassioned defense of Christ and got stoned. Surely it looked to some like a long-term evangelistic failure.

What looks like failure to us—what might be failure on our end—could be something else in God’s economy.

Let’s be honest: Stephen would have lived, and maybe made a few friends, if he had toned down his language a bit. Perhaps there wouldn’t have been a persecution. Stephen would have had other opportunities to proclaim the gospel, care for the Greek widows, and do signs and wonders. A lot of good work died with Stephen.

But Stephen’s death forced the church to scatter to Judea and Samaria and beyond, just as they’d been commanded but hadn’t yet done. And Stephen’s death likely pricked at the heart of the Pharisee who’d become the greatest apostle to the Gentiles. Stephen’s behavior only looks like failure if you don’t read past Acts 8:1. Or if you don’t realize that Stephen was being obedient unto death to the One who had died for him.

God is sovereign in our failures, weaving all things together according to his plan. What gets shut down by our boss or by the limitations of capacity and time, God may well work out for some greater success.

Grace in Humility

Second, there is grace in failure if we respond with humility (James 4:6). Only then will we find what we need to keep going.

Why did we need a Savior in the first place? Because we could never succeed at any self-salvation project. Even our best works were riddled with unrighteousness. Only by admitting defeat could we accept Jesus’s redemption.

We can find hope in our failure because God’s strength is made perfect in our weakness.

We’re always fighting pride that, when it defines us, can crush us. When we are proud, our identity is found in what we do, what we’ve achieved, what we’ve become. Our pride is why we can’t handle falling short, and our pride is why we forfeit God’s grace when we do.

But we can put that pride to death by remembering the source of our deepest identity. As it’s been said, we are human beings, not human doings. We are defined not by what we do, but who we are—really, whose we are. We are defined by our belonging to the God who purchased us. Even when we fail, in Christ we are not failures.

Ultimately, God’s sovereignty and grace frees us to fall flat. Because while we cannot do more with less, God seems to specialize in doing just that. We can find hope in our failure because God’s strength is made perfect in our weakness.

Posted at: https://www.thegospelcoalition.org/article/feel-like-failure/

“God’s Hand Is Intimately Mixed Up in Our Troubles”

Paul Tautges

The title of this blog post was created by David Powlison, a friend and mentor who entered eternal Glory last summer. This statement first appears within the second sentence of the Introduction to David’s book, God’s Grace in Your Suffering. The context is this:

Job, his wife, and his three friends agreed on two things. Our lives are “few of days and full of trouble” (Job 14:1), and God’s hand is intimately mixed up in our troubles. But strife and perplexity set in among them when they tried to explain exactly how God and troubles connected.

David goes on to mention a few of the ways these three friends argued about the cause of Job’s troubles, which are still ways people argue today. Then he shows how Job’s encounter with his Redeemer changed him forever (Job 42:5).

But (praise God!), “we see even more clearly. From where we stand, we see Jesus Christ. We see more of who the Redeemer is. We see more of how he did it. We say more than Job could say: “God, who said, ‘Let light shine out of darkness,’ has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ (2 Cor. 4:6). We see. But our lives are still “few of days and full of trouble.”

Three Sweeping Truths

David then gives to us three sweeping truths we need to understand and embrace, in order to experience the fullness of God’s goodness and grace in our suffering.

1. It is obvious from both Scripture and experience that God never established a no-fly zone keeping all problems away. “He never promises that your life will be safe, easy, peaceful, healthy, and prosperous. On the contrary, you and I are certain to experience danger, hardship, turmoil, ill health, and loss….We cannot read God’s favor or disfavor by assessing how troubled a person’s life is.”

2. It is obvious from Scripture and experience that we also sample joys and good gifts from God’s hand. “There are no guarantees of any particular earthly good, but all good gifts may be gratefully enjoyed….We cannot read God’s favor or disfavor by assessing how troubled a person’s life is.”

3. It’s obvious from Scripture–and it can become deeply rooted in experience–that God speaks and acts through affliction. “Suffering is both the acid test and the catalyst [for growing our faith]. It also exposes and destroys counterfeit faith. Afflictions expose illusory hopes invested in imaginary gods. Such disillusionment is a good thing, a severe mercy. The destruction of what is false invites repentance and faith in God as he truly is. Suffering brings a foretaste of the loss of every good thing for those who profess no faith in the one Savior of the world, God’s inexpressible gift, the Lifegiver….We can read God’s favor or disfavor by noticing how a person responds to affliction.”

If you are going through a valley of suffering, or you want to grow in your understanding of God’s good purposes in suffering, I highly recommend you get and read this little book.

Posted at: https://counselingoneanother.com/2020/07/21/gods-hand-is-intimately-mixed-up-in-our-troubles/