The Two Faces of Self-Centeredness

Chrys Jones

Self-centeredness is two-faced. 

It can be the overly confident fool who walks with his chest out and wears his ego on his sleeve—sometimes literally. This sort of cringe-worthy form irritates us unless we are the beneficiaries of the talents and brilliance of the self-professed genius. We still furrow our brows when we see their antics on display, but we can’t help but be drawn in by the enticing melodies of their siren calls.

Self-centeredness wears another mask as well. The Eeyore sort of pride hides in plain sight like Waldo on a canvas full of colors and distractions. They don’t post a selfie every time they walk an old lady across the street, but they desperately want to be caught on camera and praised. We notice them, but we seem to always shift our attention back to the more boisterous people because it’s tough to notice a candle when there’s a spotlight in the room.

 CHRISTIANS AREN’T EXEMPT 

This self-centeredness dresses up in Christian garb too.  There are many times that I see these forms of pride in myself. There are times when I want to puff out my chest and let everyone know how devoted I am to the Lord. I want them to acknowledge my preaching and writing gifts. I want to be their favorite Christian rapper and producer. These moments are terrifying because they catch me off guard. Just when I thought I had my pride in check, I’m lured and enticed by my own evil desire.

On the other end of the spectrum, I sometimes find myself wrapped up in self-pity. The sting of a rejected article, a flat sermon, a poorly-performed album release, or a failed moment of parenting can leave me licking my wounds and begging everyone to notice my sackcloth and ashes. What some people consider modesty and humility is really just a facade of the kid who air-balled the free throw and faked an injury to get taken out of the game. This is pride, too.

We see both of these forms of pride in Scripture. One looks and feels nobler and is often met with pity. The other is annoying and we want to hit the mute button because we can easily spot a celebrity rant on a crowded Twitter feed. Neither is godly, and they both lead to hell apart from Christ.

THE PHARISEE WITHIN

In Luke 18:9-14 Jesus tells the parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector. Notice what he says about the Pharisee:

“The Pharisee stood and was praying this to himself: ‘God, I thank You that I am not like other people: swindlers, unjust, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. ‘I fast twice a week; I pay tithes of all that I get.’” (Lk. 18:11-12 NASB)

He is praying to himself. He’s boasting about his greatness compared to the so-called bad people of society. He’s even so bold as to look down and point out the guy on his knees next to him! Then, in his hypocrisy, he publicly proclaims his self-righteous fasting and tithing! This man is over-the-top.

The Pharisee clearly failed to see his own sinfulness in the presence of the Holy God. He wasn’t humbled by the presence of a holy God. He chose showmanship and flexed his tiny spiritual muscles instead. When we are truly in the presence of God, we may notice others’ sins, but as Isaiah spoke, “I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips” (Isa. 6:5 ESV). When we become expert plank-pullers, we won’t be so preoccupied with others’ splinters (Matt. 7:3-5).

WORLDLY GRIEF

Self-centeredness paints up in humble garb as well. We definitely ought to look into hearts and say, “ I am deeply grieved by my sin!” However, if we spend too long there, we will end up caught in a cycle of morbid introspection.

Jared Mellinger aptly describes this sort of introspection in his book Think Again:

“There is a kind of introspection that sucks the life out of our souls. It steals the joy God intends for us to receive through knowing him. It blinds us to the beautiful realities of the world God has made and numbs us to the generosity of his many good gifts. It can torture us, but it cannot purify us.”

Morbid introspection may be a sign of worldly grief—a tearful response to sin that is more concerned with the earthly and relational impacts of sins than with our offense against God. It doesn’t take us to the foot of the throne of grace where we have Jesus interceding for us (Rom. 8:34 ESV). It doesn’t produce “a repentance that leads to salvation,” an eagerness to be cleared from sin in the presence of Christ (2 Cor. 7:10-11 ESV). Unlike godly grief, worldly grief never leads to indignation toward sin, fear of God, zeal to put sin to death, or a readiness to see that sin crushed—which happened at the cross. It draws us into ourselves like a vacuum.

Rather than look to our Savior, we dwell on our sin. 

Rather than our Redeemer, we gaze at our repentance (or lack thereof). 

Rather than grace, we stare at our grief. 

There is a better way.

THE TAX COLLECTOR WITHIN

 In Jesus’s parable, the scum of the earth tax collector gives us hope. He doesn’t have accomplishments to boast about before God. He is in a profession generally known to be corrupt. Yet, he doesn’t navel-gaze at his sinfulness only to walk away without forgiveness. Instead, this tax collector confesses his wickedness and clings to Jesus. He looks away from himself and exemplifies both seeing our sin and seeking our Savior: 

“But the tax collector, standing far off, would not even lift up his eyes to heaven, but beat his breast, saying, ‘God, be merciful to me, a sinner!’” (Lk. 18:13 ESV)

His humility and godly grief are on full display. He is standing far off, not feeling worthy to be close to others. He would not even lift up his eyes to heaven because he felt totally unworthy of God’s attention and presence. He beat his breast because he felt the weight of his sinfulness. If Jesus had stopped here, we would see a man who is deeply grieved by sin. We may even be left wondering if his grief was godly or worldly. Jesus doesn’t leave us hanging.

Here’s the game-changer in this parable: when the wicked tax thief sees his sin, he cries out, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner!” (Lk. 18:13 ESV). Unfortunately, some translations don’t give us the full weight of this verse. Unlike the Pharisee, this tax collector is so concerned with only his sin that he says, “be merciful to me, the sinner” (NASB, emphasis mine). He cries out to God for mercy because he knows that God’s mercy is his only hope.

LOOK TO JESUS

Christians, in our sin we need to look to Jesus. In our grief and shock, we have to look away from ourselves and cling to the Savior. Self-centered pride will kill us, and self-centered grief will bring death. Only Christ-centered remorse will bring life. Jared Mellinger helps us again:

“Our help does not come from within, from discovering ourselves or believing in ourselves. Our help comes from the Lord Jesus Christ. We can find a lot of problems by looking inside ourselves, but we’re not going to find solutions there. Self-help is a monstrous oxymoron. We cannot help ourselves; we need help from outside.”

Where are you looking today?  Whose help are you seeking? Dear saints, look to Jesus! Seek him and keep your eyes fixed on his glorious throne!

Chrys Jones (@chrys_jones) is a husband and father of four. He is a church planter in training, and writes regularly at dwellwithchrist.com. Chrys is also a Christian Hip-Hop artist for Christcentric.

posted at: https://gcdiscipleship.com/article-feed/two-faces-of-self-centeredness

Plan to Be Interrupted

Article by Scott Hubbard

At one time, I thought the best test for our faith in the sovereignty of God was our fidelity to the five points of Calvinism. But lately I’ve wondered if a different test might be more appropriate: how we respond to the interruptions, inefficiencies, and unforeseen delays strewn throughout our days.

Many of us cheer at the high sovereignty celebrated by Charles Spurgeon:

I believe that every particle of dust that dances in the sunbeam does not move an atom more or less than God wishes — that every particle of spray that dashes against the steamboat has its orbit, as well as the sun in the heavens — that the chaff from the hand of the winnower is steered as the stars in their courses. (“God’s Providence”)

Yet where do our cheers go (or my cheers, at any rate) when God, in his providence, arranges the particles in his universe against our plans for the day? When our computer mutinies, or our toddler summons the attention of the entire grocery store, or our coworker knocks in the midst of our brilliant productivity? Too often, my internal response amounts to the following: “The dust motes may be subject to God’s rule, but this must have slipped past his sovereignty.”

But the God who is sovereign over our salvation is sovereign also over our schedules, including all the interruptions.

Faith, Not Efficiency

We cannot say that God has left us unprepared for such interruptions. Scripture’s story of redemption does not give the impression that efficiency is one of God’s chief values. If it were, the Bible’s plotline would be much straighter (and much less interesting). Over and again, God hands his people some important piece of work to do — work we might imagine is simply too important to be delayed — and then he bids his people to trust him through interruption.

“We want to move through our tasks without interruption; he wants us to trust him in every interruption.”

He tells Nehemiah to build the wall around Jerusalem, and then he allows a host of enemies to halt the work for a time (Nehemiah 4:7–14). He calls Jeremiah to prophesy in Judah, and then ordains that he should be tossed into a cistern (Jeremiah 38:1–6). He commissions Paul to preach the gospel to the Gentiles, and then lands him in a prison cell (Philippians 1:12–13). Time would fail to tell of Joseph’s wait in Egypt, of David’s flights from Saul, and of the multitudes who intercepted Jesus as he was heading somewhere else.

What do we make of such sovereign delays? Apparently, as Jon Bloom writes, “God is not nearly as interested in our efficiency as he is in our faith.” Regularly, even if subconsciously, we walk into our days with efficiency as our agenda: fold the laundry and write the paper and cook the meal and prepare the Bible study and get to bed with no task unchecked. Yet often, God’s agenda for us is not efficiency, but faith — for “without faith it is impossible to please him” (Hebrews 11:6).

We want to move through our tasks without interruption; he wants us to trust him in every interruption. And so, he will regularly, even daily, disrupt our plans.

Counterfeit Interruptions

So faith, not efficiency, is God’s main agenda for us each day. As we consider how we might prepare for the daily interruptions he sends our way, we would do well to keep one clarification in mind: we should not receive every interruption as a holy interruption — as a God-sent, sanctifying inefficiency. Not every interruption is created equal.

For many of us today, interruption is the air we breathe. We can scarcely go fifteen minutes without our phone buzzing, our email binging, our calendar reminding, our news app updating, our social media flagging. We have grown accustomed to a mind fragmented by technology. Indeed, many of us have grown more than accustomed — we enjoy the quarter-hour (or more) dopamine hit that our smartphones provide. If separated from our screens for an afternoon, we might fidget like someone in withdrawal.

Interruptions such as these rarely sanctify. In fact, they regularly do the opposite. Instead of propelling us into the lives of the neighbors around us at that moment (Matthew 22:39), they lure us to give our best attention elsewhere. Instead of slowing us down to listen (James 1:19), they train us in the sorry arts of swiping, skimming, and “multitasking.” Instead of inviting us to cast our burdens on God (1 Peter 5:6–7), they regularly feed low-level anxiety. Yet too often, I resent the interruption from my neighbor next door, yet relish the one from my news feed.

By all means, bolt the door against such interruptions. Turn off notifications for stretches of the day. Decide how often you’ll check your email. When you go to sleep (or better, well before you do), put your phone to sleep as well. Whatever it takes, cultivate the kind of calm and focused mind that is ready to receive real interruptions.

Enough Margin for Love

Beyond ridding ourselves of counterfeit interruptions, we might consider another practical step toward welcoming the interruptions God sends: leave enough margin in your schedule for love. Margin is the blank space on our calendars and our to-do lists — the empty, unplanned parts of the day that are available for the unexpected.

Perhaps interruptions frustrate some of us because we simply have no margin. I sometimes pack one appointment or task on top of another, leaving me to run between responsibilities with little room to breathe in between — and no room for interruptions. Such planning (at least for most of us, most of the time) reflects an almost laughable amount of hubris, as if I expect the minutes to march on according to my good pleasure.

“Those who trust deeply in the sovereignty of God learn to leave enough margin in their days for sovereign interruptions.”

Consider how Jesus lived. For as full as his schedule was, he was never so booked that he could not linger for a few minutes on the way. Have you ever noticed just how often he is interrupted? How regularly a disciple or stranger interjects (Luke 12:13)? How commonly someone on the roadside cries for help (Mark 10:46–48)? How frequently even his meals were invaded by the needs of a neighbor (Luke 7:36–38)? And have you ever noticed how Jesus was never flustered or rushed?

When the Son of God walked among us, he was perfect in patience. And not only because he was the Son of God, but also because he had the healthy, sane realism to expect interruptions and to leave enough room in his life to love his neighbor. How many times have we become irritated at interruptions because, unlike Jesus, we had no space in our schedule for them? In that case, repentance means more than pleading with God for patience; it also means planning more space in our schedules.

Those who trust deeply in the sovereignty of God learn to leave enough margin in their days for sovereign interruptions. Because faith not only relies on God when the interruptions come; it also plans for interruptions before they come. It leaves pockets of the day and week blank, and over the rest it writes, “If the Lord wills, we will live and do this or that” (James 4:15).

Far Better Plans

Even still, a focused mind and a schedule with margin will not prepare us for every interruption. Many interruptions will come our way that feel inconvenient and unwelcome. And in such moments, we do well to step back, catch our breath, pray, and remember all the good that God sends through interruptions.

Think big for a moment. Where would we be if God hadn’t interrupted Abraham in Haran, Moses in Midian, David among the sheepfolds, Mary in her betrothed innocence, Peter in his fishing boat, Paul on the road to Damascus? And where would you be if he hadn’t interrupted your life — if Jesus hadn’t invaded your comfortable rebellion and beckoned you to repent and believe?

Once God turns our lives upside down, he doesn’t stop using interruptions (large or small) for our good. Through them, he chastens our pride, slows our pace, opens our eyes, bends us toward dependence, and teaches us to trust. He reminds us that he is not after our maximum efficiency, but instead our maximum conformity to Christ, who was never too busy, too preoccupied, or too impatient to be interrupted.

If we know all that God does through interruptions, we may do more than avoid them: after we’ve planned the best we can, we may even pray that he would be pleased to interrupt us with his better, perfect plans.

Scott Hubbard is a graduate of Bethlehem College & Seminary and an editor for desiringGod.org. He and his wife, Bethany, live with their son in Minneapolis.

Posted at: https://www.desiringgod.org/articles/plan-to-be-interrupted?utm_campaign=Daily+Email&utm_medium=email&_hsmi=100733901&_hsenc=p2ANqtz-_rohlR03MfMkPqxMqgdH_rC3GG86ENxq4t3npSVmwkVOJN-35mgUfpv3UvKDjotk5lMFdXGTOJmpN6U-muxZM2yJUsgQ&utm_content=100733901&utm_source=hs_email

What Is the Difference Between Practicing Self-Care and Being Selfish?

BY BRAD HAMBRICK 

What is the difference between practicing self-care and being selfish?

This question seems like it should be easier to answer than it is. Actually, for many Christians, it is exceedingly difficult to answer and the source of significant debate. Internally, we often feel guilty to practicing good self-care. In conversation, we often have a hard time differentiating self-care from selfishness.

In order to engage with this question, I will offer three metaphors and then seek to extrapolate three summary principles.

Metaphor One: Oil Change

Nobody assumes that getting the oil change for your vehicle is selfish. Yes, it costs money and takes time. But it is universally seen as good stewardship of a larger investment – namely the vehicle. Actually, someone who neglects getting their oil changed is seen as foolish and lazy.

Oil changes and comparable maintenance result in the vehicle lasting longer and serving its purpose better. If we see our physical and emotional health as commodities to be stewarded, then the self-care parallels for this metaphor are strong and plentiful.

Metaphor Two: Airplane Instructions

If you’ve flown, you’ve heard a flight attendant say, “Put the oxygen mask over your face before putting it on your travel companion.” Initially, the thought of putting the mask on our face before our child seems selfish. But we realize doing so preserves our capacity to be available to care for the child during the potential adverse circumstance.

With this metaphor, we experience the same emotional angst we often experience with the self-care question. We realize that the choices being made are not made in an idealized bubble. They are choices made in a context where life is hard, and we are finite. We don’t get the luxury of making choices in a perfect world with unlimited resources. We make choices in a broken world with finite resources (i.e., energy, time, money, aptitudes, etc.).

Metaphor Three: Enjoying Art

Art is something that could easily be portrayed as wasteful, but rarely is. Music, painting, poetry, and other forms of artistic expression are viewed as valuable. Learning to appreciate these forms of art is seen as improving oneself. Creating these forms of art is seen as being a good steward of one’s ability.

Why is going to a symphony seen as valuable, but a parent seizing the relatively rare opportunity to take an afternoon nap is often viewed as selfish? I believe the answer is that the arts are more naturally seen to expand our capacities while a nap’s ability to restore cognitive functioning and enhance emotional regulation is not.

Summary Principles

After thinking through these metaphors, let’s articulate a few summary principles.

1. Self-care, like an oil change, increases the longevity of our ability to love God and love others.

2. Self-care, like airplane instructions, increases our availability to love God and love others.

3. Self-care, like enjoying art, increases the capacities with which we can love God and love others.

In these ways, good self-care is the opposite of selfish. Just because an activity is personally beneficial and enjoyable does not mean its selfish. Common self-care practices (i.e., resting, eating favorite meal, engaging a hobby, time with a friend, etc.) are enjoyable and beneficial.

By contrast, selfishness is more about motive than action.

• Selfishness does not care about the longevity, availability, or capacity to love God and love others.

• Selfishness focuses on the optimal enjoyment of one’s own life to the neglect of loving God and others.

Do these principles resolve all our question? No. Because we live in different situations with different resources and abilities, we will answer the question about self-care differently. There can be no universal rule about when self-care becomes selfish any more than there can be a universal rule about how many minutes a 6th grader should study for a math test.

But there is a theological point that needs more attention if we are going to engage this question well; namely that we are embodied souls. Our bodies have a strong influence over our souls. When we neglect our bodies, it becomes more difficult to express the virtues our Christian souls want to express. Jesus acknowledged as much when we said to his sleepy disciples, “Your spirit is willing, but your flesh is weak (Matt. 26:41).”

Hopefully, you have begun to realize that the better question is not “What’s the difference between self-care and being selfish?”, but “Where’s the line between the two? When does wise self-care become excessive and begin to become selfish?” This is how we think about most virtues. When are we so honest we become rude? When are we so generous we become frivolous? When are we so frugal we become greedy? When are we so compassionate we become gullible?

Again, there is no one-size-fits-all answer to these questions. Answering these questions requires self-awareness and situational wisdom. My hope is that, with the three metaphors and principles provided, your freedom of conscious to practice good self-care grows and your discernment about when self-care is being prioritized in unhealthy ways also grows.

We grow in wise-balanced self-care the same way we grow in being humbly honest, wisely generous, or compassionate-with-discernment… a bit at a time and little more with each passing month. If this reflection has given you a few tools to take the next step in that growth process, it has done all it was intended to do.

Posted at: http://bradhambrick.com/selfcare/

Idolatry: The Desire to Be Lord of What One Worship

J.I. Packer

The consistent biblical testimony is that idolatry is inexcusable. Scripture never condones idolatry on the grounds that men knew no better, but condemns it on the assumption that they did, and that irrespective of whether they had encountered any part of God’s special revelation or not (Isaiah 44:10-20; Habakkuk 2:18-20).

Quite so, says Paul; for it is out of general, not special, revelation that idolatry has been manufactured. Idolatry is a lie grafted on to some of the intuitions of general revelation in order to smother the rest; it was invented to provide sinners with gods they can worship while remaining their own masters. One of the contradictions of fallen human nature is the desire to be lord of what one worships.

As a creature, man yearns for a god to serve; as a sinner, he is resolved to play God himself, and demands that everything else should serve him. This explains the absurd actions of the pagan who directs acts of worship to the image he made himself (Isaiah 44:10-20), while at the same time developing techniques of sacrifice, prayer, and sympathetic magic for getting his imaginary god to do what he wants (cf. 1st Kings 17:25-28; 36, 37; Matthew 6:7).

And Scripture recognizes more forms of idolatry than polytheism. It says that idolatry exists whenever man gives himself up, heart and soul, to mastering an adored object. Covetousness is thus idolatry (Colossians 3:5). So it by no means follows that sinners forsake idolatry when they abandon polytheism.

All that happens is that they change their gods. Some ‘idolize’ wealth; and Christ calls such the slaves of Mammon in just the same exclusive sense as the Christian is the servant of his God (Matthew 6:19, 24). Others ‘idolize’ and live for ideas, ideals, a cause, power, a wife, children, country, beauty, and many other things besides.

The self-contradictory lust of sinful man to have something he can worship and master at the same time takes countless forms, each exhibiting the same pathetic ambivalence.

Trying to rule what one serves—being enslaved by what one tries to rule—trying to play God to one’s gods, and ending up the captive of them all—that is idolatry, in all its forms. It is a satanic parody of man’s original relation to his Maker, and a source of endless misery to all its practioners.

Posted at: https://servantsofgrace.org/idolatry-the-desire-to-be-lord-of-what-one-worship/

Is Self Care Wrong for Christian Moms?

by Jen Oshman

Have you ever been to a baby shower where you’re asked to give the mom-to-be your best mothering advice? As a pastor’s wife this happens to me a few times a year and each time I wrack my brain for a good answer. 

I don’t want it to be so sentimental that it’s not practical. Or so spiritual that it’s alienating. Or so funny that it’s not authentic. How can I come up with something winsome, godly, memorable, and hopeful, but also adequately grave and weighty, and jot that down on a 3x5 card for the mom-to-be? 

It’s an impossible task. We’re talking about bringing up the next generation here. 

And yet we do this at every shower because we love advice and pro-tips and life hacks. We all want to know how others are doing it. How they survived. How they thrived. How they’re getting by. 

This game transpired at my oldest daughter’s baby shower several months ago. As my daughter opened each gift, the giver had to read her card out loud so everyone could benefit. 

There was one card that garnered a collective, knowing groan from the entire room. “Um-hmm,” and “Yeah,” and “That’s true,” and “So good,” were whispered throughout. 

Her advice? “When you lose your patience with your baby, because you will, put her in her crib, close the door, and walk away. Take a break for a minute, cool off, and come back. There will be times when you want to lose it. But never shake your baby.” 

It was unanimous. We had all been there. Daily dying to oneself and caring for a baby who will, at times, be cranky and inconsolable is not easy. Throw in sleeplessness, perhaps a father who works long hours, and maybe colic and you have a recipe for instant anger and frustration. Those of us in the room who had been moms for more than a day locked eyes with one another and nodded knowingly. 

There will be times. Put the baby safely in her crib. Cool off for a few minutes. Then come back. 

One guest pressed in, “But how do you do it? I mean actually do it? How do you take care of yourself not just in the moment but for the long-term? How do you practice self-care when you’re a mom? I want to know the real, practical, actual steps.” 

Another mom continued, “Is self-care even okay? Is it selfish? I feel like I could literally harm my kids at times. Is it wrong to want to get away and calm down in the moment? Or what about for a longer amount of time, like a day hike by myself, or even a weekend away?” 

Is Self-Care Wrong for Christian Moms? 

Scripture is clear: we are to be “living sacrifices” (Romans 12:1). We know that Jesus says, "whoever loses their life for me will find it” (Matthew 16:25). Paul calls us to be like Jesus in emptying ourselves out, to “value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others” (Philippians 2:3-4). 

The Christian way of life is unquestionably one of service. Is it wrong, then, for a Christian mom to care for herself? Is a little “me time” allowed? And if so, on what basis? 

We Are Finite  

You and I and every other human being are finite. We were made that way. Only our Creator God does not slumber or sleep (Psalm 121:4). Only God is omnipotent, omnipresent, omniscient. 

We know from daily experience that we grow tired and weary. In the evenings our eyelids grow heavy and our bodies give out. God gave us the rhythms of day and night, that we might rest for a significant portion of every 24-hour cycle. He gave us the Sabbath that we might rest more deeply once a week. He designed us to rest. 

The psalmists point this out. One says, “In peace I will lie down and sleep, for you alone, Lord, make me dwell in safety” (Psalm 4:8). Another says, God “grants sleep to those he loves” (Psalm 127:2). And of course Jesus says, “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28). 

The Lord made us to need rest and he himself is the giver of rest. He has what we need. Embedded in our design is an admission of finiteness, an awareness that we cannot do it all on our own. He made us to reach out to him, to seek him, to find him. 

Broken Cisterns 

The world offers all kinds of solutions for our exhaustion. They range from harmless to potentially life-ending. 

Just more coffee. More me time. Aerobics class. A keto diet. Weekly massages. A luxury car to keep the noise out. Or a couple glasses of wine every night. Perhaps some prescription drugs. Or even more prescription drugs, abused daily. My own community bears witness to the destruction of drug and alcohol addictions amongst stay at home moms. 

When we come to the end of ourselves, when we are thirsty, we can grab a literal or proverbial drink from just about anywhere. And many of these “drinks” are not wrong, in and of themselves. Exercise and a healthy diet and even a luxury car are not sinful. Neither is a glass of wine. The question is what are we hoping to find at the bottom of the glass? What are we expecting these options to deliver? Where does our hope lie? 

In the Old Testament the prophet Jeremiah spoke on behalf of God, saying, “My people have committed two sins: They have forsaken me, the spring of living water, and have dug their own cisterns, broken cisterns that cannot hold water” (Jeremiah 2:13). 

The Israelites forsook the Lord their God and they dug their own cisterns. They turned away from their Maker, their Redeemer, the Lord who led them out of Egypt and made them his very own. Not only did they turn away from him, but they created their own cisterns. They pursued water to quench their thirst that did not come from the Lord. In their finiteness they did not rest in God. Rather, they created their own well, which proved broken, unable to deliver the satisfaction and rest they needed. 

They spurned their faithful God and they pursued their own means for refreshment. 

Living Water

Self-care—meaning an awareness of our finiteness and a desire to get needed rest—is not wrong. You and I can’t actually live without it. We are humans who get thirsty. The question is: where will we seek it? Where will we drink? Will we draw from our own wells, the broken cisterns of this world, glasses that don’t actually hold water? Or will we turn to our Creator who is himself Living Water? 

Jesus knows we are burdened and tired. That’s why he says, “Come to me” (Matthew 11:28). And he knows we are prone to seek refreshment in places that will not ultimately satisfy. 

Of the broken cisterns, of the worldly solutions, Jesus says, “Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again” (John 4:13).

But of himself Jesus says, “but whoever drinks of the water that I will give him will never be thirsty again. The water that I will give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life” (John 4:14). 

Self-care, getting necessary rest and refreshment, is not wrong. In fact, it’s required. Not only that, but when we are refreshed by Christ, it is eternal. It’s a refreshment that lasts. Our ministry to others, our service to our families, the ways we love our neighbors, all require the fuel of Living Water. We need within ourselves a spring that wells up. With Jesus as not only our Savior, but also our life, our energy, the very power by which we operate, we can serve others in ways that are lasting and powerful. 

It is in Christ alone that we find real self-care. When you and I draw on Living Water, a spring wells up within us, allowing us to pour ourselves out. 

How Do We Drink Living Water? 

Jesus says to you and to me and to every exhausted mom who needs a moment to catch her breath, “If anyone thirsts, let him come to me and drink. Whoever believes in me, as the Scripture has said, ‘Out of his heart will flow rivers of living water’” (John 7:37-38).

We are like rivers who are prone to drying up. We need Living Water constantly flowing into us, welling up, and flowing out of us. Real rest and refreshment can only be found in the God who made us. But how do we actually become conduits of the power and satisfaction of Jesus? 

Confess

First, we must confess that we are thirsty and we need him. Jesus says, “Abide in me and I in you…apart from me you can do nothing” (John 15:4,5). We must confess our hunger and thirst and need for the Lord and he will meet us and fill us. Not only does he save us, but he inhabits us  and helps us all our days. 

Then, we must keep turning to him, drinking Living Water, every day, even every hour. We do that by pursuing activities and thoughts that draw us back to him over and over. These activities remind us of his goodness and grace and power. They refresh us and refuel us as we are reminded of his excellencies. 

Self-care, or ingesting Living Water, is best done by reading the Word of God, meeting with the people of God, and fellowshipping with the Spirit of God. 

The Word of God 

The psalmist calls on the Lord, “give me life according to your word” (Psalm 119:25). John 1:1 calls Jesus the Word. The author of Hebrews calls scripture “living and active” (Hebrews 4:12). Truly, there is life-giving power in simply reading or hearing or reciting or memorizing the Word of God. 

Some practical ideas to get the Word of God in you: 

Read the Bible each morning, or each nap-time, or at bedtime—daily intake is important and will deepen your joy. Depending on your season of life you can tackle a Bible-in-a-year reading plan, or just meditate on a paragraph or verse or two each day. Don’t get bogged down by how much, just get something in you. Listen to the Word with an audio Bible, or with scripture set to songs such as from the Seeds Family Worship or Scripture Lullabies. Put Bible verses on the mirror, the fridge, your coffee pot, the kids’ bedroom walls—surround yourself with reminders of the living truth. 

The People of God

Self-care is also provided sweetly by gathering with the saints, meaning other Christians. The author of Hebrews says we must commit to getting together so that we can encourage one another to be loving and to do good works (Hebrews 10:24-25). We need each other to “encourage one another and build one another up” (1 Thessalonians 5:11). Don’t pursue life as a lone-ranger Christian. I promise, that is a recipe for despair and a weak faith. 

Some practical ideas for meeting with the people of God: 

Make Sunday morning worship services and church membership a high priority. You can check your kids in to the nursery (it’s okay if they take some time to cry and adjust) or you can load up with snacks and treats and tricks to keep them happy in service with you. Do whatever it takes to get there. Join a women’s Bible study with childcare, hire a babysitter and go to a Bible study that doesn’t have childcare, join a small group, get a prayer partner, meet a Christian friend for coffee once a week and talk about how you sense God moving in your life. If you’re having trouble making fellowship happen, ask another woman in your church how she’s doing it and brainstorm with her. 

The Spirit of God 

John 14 reminds us the Holy Spirit is our helper, our comforter, our teacher. And, he lives in us (Romans 8:9). What a joy and source of confidence and strength—God lives inside of us, we who have surrounded to the Lord Jesus. But we are prone to ignoring him, living life in our own strength and power. Perhaps we feel bad about calling on him for such little nuisances. Or maybe we don’t really believe he can help. Or is it that we are afraid of his sanctifying power? I’m not sure what keeps you from abiding in the Holy Spirit, talking to him constantly, praising him, asking him for help—but his indwelling in us is an immeasurable gift! It is “him who is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think, according to the power at work within us” (Ephesians 3:20). 

Some practical ideas for fellowshipping with the Holy Spirit:

Like the two areas above, how you go about this will be largely dependent on your stage of life and flexibility, but don’t neglect it! A primary way to spend time with the Spirit is in prayer. You can journal your prayers every morning or every night, or simply say them aloud before or after you read your Bible. You can pray in the shower, in the car, with your kids, with a prayer partner. Sometimes fellowshipping with the Spirit looks like just sitting still and being quiet. Maybe you need to plan a time and a place to simply be still: a monthly coffee date alone with your journal and your Bible and the Spirit, a hike, morning walks, evening walks after the kids are in bed, driving alone to the grocery store and leaving the radio off, stepping into the bathroom when your baby is in her highchair and begging the Spirit to walk with you in those moments. He is there—when you can, spend long stretches of intimate time with him, when you can’t, call on him and he will meet you in the moment by moment of each day.  

Self-Care is Holy Work When We Are Refreshed by Living Water 

Back to the baby shower advice. The guest who encouraged my daughter to take a break when she’s feeling overwhelmed by her baby, to put her in her crib and walk away for a moment of refreshment, was wise and right. We are not omnipotent. We need rest and renewal, especially when we’re exhausted and at the end of ourselves. 

To the guest who asked if self-care is okay for the Christian mom, I say a resounding yes, as long as our self-care is rooted in abiding in the Lord. We were made to need him. We will languish without his refreshment. 

And to the guest who said, but how do you do it, I say by drinking Living Water every time we’re thirsty, through the Word of God, the people of God, and the Spirit of God. And ho you manage to practice those three activities will evolve over time and ebb and flow with your changing family. 

The world offers many broken cisterns. Let’s reject each one. Instead, may we never forsake our God and may we drink deeply of the water that only Jesus gives. 

Posted at: https://www.jenoshman.com/jen-oshman-blog/2019/7/16/is-self-care-wrong-for-christian-moms

8 Ways to Battle "Comfort Idolatry"

Article by Brett McCracken

One of Christianity’s greatest idolatries today is also one of the most subtle and insidious: the idolatry of comfort.

Widespread especially in affluent Western contexts, comfort idolatry is the product of a consumerist context that frames everything—including spiritual things—in terms of expressive individualism, self-fulfillment, and “bettering yourself.” In this context, going to church is just one among many other curated things (which may also include podcasts, self-help books, juice cleanses, yoga, backpacking, the Enneagram, Jordan Peterson, and so forth) that can add something to one’s unique spiritual path toward wisdom and wellness and becoming a “better person.”

Because it is so widespread and subtle, this framing doesn’t often seem so deadly. But it turns Christianity into a product akin to a smartphone app: something the “user” can opt in or out of as is convenient, or appropriate as needed but only insofar as it suits them. If it is in any way uncomfortable or costly, the “app” is easily deleted.

But a Christianity that’s accessed only as it suits us, only when it’s comfortable and on our terms, is not really Christianity. To truly follow Jesus is to flip the cultural script on comfort. It is to shift one’s gaze away from a consumer self and toward our worthy God; from an inward, self-help orientation to an outward, others-helping orientation. Healthy Christians are always wary of easing into comfortable Christianity.

A Christianity that’s accessed only as it suits us, only when it is comfortable and on our terms, is not really Christianity. To truly follow Jesus is to flip the cultural script on comfort.

Last year I wrote about eight signs your Christianity might be too comfortable. If that’s us, how can we address it? A good place to start is by recognizing, repenting, and praying for deliverance from this idolatrous temptation. Another foundational step is simply committing to a local church, recognizing that a healthy church should make us feel uncomfortable. But what else can we do? 

Here are eight additional ways a churchgoing Christian can proactively attack, or preventatively avoid, comfort idolatry in the Christian life.

1. Don’t elevate your church preferences as the gold standard.

It’s good to love your church. It’s not good to idolize your church. Sometimes a healthy appreciation for one’s church can turn into an unhealthy, insular orientation that excludes from fellowship (or even orthodoxy) other Christians and church traditions, just because they differ from how your congregation does things.

If you find it unbearable to sit through another church’s service because “it’s not how mychurch does it,” that’s a problem. The comfort of the familiar becomes idolatrous when anything unfamiliar is delegitimized. Christians and churches should challenge themselves to never assume they’ve arrived at the one, true, gold standard for how to do church.

The comfort of the familiar becomes idolatrous when anything unfamiliar is delegitimized.

2. Learn from and partner beyond your ‘tribe.’

Part of how Christians and churches can avoid the “we are the gold standard” temptation is by seeking to learn from believers outside their particular tribe. Maybe a white pastor could attend a Hispanic pastors’ conference, or a Pentecostal church member could visit an Anglican church, or a 22-year-old could visit a church full of people in their 70s (or vice versa).

Maybe we could reach out to immigrant churches in our communities, serving them but also learning from them. Perhaps we could diversify the blogs and podcasts we take in, and push ourselves to listen more to voices that challenge us. Such things will help pop our insular bubbles and identify ways we have conflated cultural identity with Christian identity.

3. Don’t evaluate church in terms of ‘what I got out of it.’

A simple tactic for challenging consumer Christianity and comfort idolatry is to stop evaluating Sunday morning worship in terms of “what I got out of it.” This tends to reduce the point of church to life-enhancement “takeaways” that only perpetuate the consumer approach.

Instead, as you leave church on a Sunday, ask yourself, “How did I contribute? How did I edify the body of Christ?” Or ask questions that don’t involve personal pronouns at all: “How was God glorified? What attributes of God were evident in the service?” Your assessment of a church should be God-centered, not me-centered.

4. Learn to worship God regardless of the music style.

Our strong opinions about worship-music styles present the greatest opportunities for us to challenge our comfort idolatry. Instead of folding your arms in protest and half-heartedly singing when you don’t like the song or style of music, give yourself to worship even if you hate the music. Try it. It’s liberating.

Pastors and worship leaders: help your congregations by constantly pushing them outside comfort zones. Avoid just one music style. For example, the “Hillsong sound” is great, but it is not the gold standard. Rotate worship bands and leaders who bring different styles. Sing old hymns, new praise choruses, gospel songs, spirituals. Spice it up for the sake of loosening the stiff grips people have on their beloved music preferences.  

5. Arrive to church early and leave later, even if it means more awkward small talk.

As an introvert, I know how stressful and exhausting the pre- and post-church social mingling can be. I also know that when I arrive to church conveniently late and leave the service during the closing prayer, I’m placing my comfort above my spiritual vitality. The fact is, awkward social interactions in church can be a powerful antidote to comfort addiction. Nothing epitomizes the gloriously uncomfortable beauty of God’s family like the weird church people you rub shoulders with on any given Sunday—people with all sorts of backgrounds and personality quirks.

Nothing epitomizes the gloriously uncomfortable beauty of God’s family like the weird church people you rub shoulders with on any given Sunday—people with all sorts of backgrounds and personality quirks.

When we arrive and leave church stealthily, we perpetuate a consumer spirituality that avoids the entanglements of community. When we never bother to make small talk, saints will remain acquaintances and strangers to you—not the brothers and sisters, mothers and fathers, they could be to you.

6. Give to the point that you feel it in your budget.

Sacrificial giving is a great way to keep your comfort addiction in check. But the sacrificialpart is important. It’s easy to give a portion of your paycheck in such a way that you never feel the pinch. It’s harder to be generous when your budget is tight and there seems to be no margin to give.

Cultivating the habit of financial generosity, especially when it it is costly to you, is one of the clearest ways you can place the kingdom of God above your personal comfort. Generosity for gospel advance is always worth it, even if it means we have to scale back our vacation plans, postpone our renovation project, or cut back our monthly latte quota.  

7. Be flexible for the sake of mission.

Comfort idolatry often breeds rigidity in the Christian life—an unwillingness to adapt to change, a nostalgia for “how things were,” a hesitance to uproot when mission calls. A good way to respond to this tendency is to deliberately cultivate flexibility and nimbleness in the way you approach church.

Don’t be so over-scheduled that you can’t have dinner with church newcomers on a whim. Don’t be so tied to your ministry niche that you aren’t willing to jump in and serve wherever there’s a need. Don’t be such a fan of talented church leaders that you don’t celebrate, albeit with sadness, when God calls them to lead a new campus or church plant. Be flexible and ready to move when mission and evangelistic opportunities arise. Be willing to sacrifice comfort and the familiar when the Spirit is at work and the gospel is advancing.

8. Don’t quit the minute it gets hard.

When comfort is a chief value in our spiritual life, it’s easy to justify leaving a church the minute it becomes uncomfortable. Perhaps something about the pastor annoys you. Perhaps you haven’t heard satisfactory answers about a particular theological stance. Maybe the community just doesn’t “get you.” Maybe you feel like your doubts, or passions, are too much for the church to handle.

Some of these may eventually become valid reasons to leave, but none of them should cause you to bail right away. Challenge yourself to stick around even when the honeymoon period wears off. Show up at church even when you don’t feel like it. Do not neglect meeting together (Heb. 10:25). It’s not about whether a church can handle your doubts and your angst. The fact is, God can handle it. And he wants you in a church family, working through the challenges and growing together with other members of the body.

Brett McCracken is a senior editor at The Gospel Coalition and author of Uncomfortable: The Awkward and Essential Challenge of Christian Community, Gray Matters: Navigating the Space Between Legalism and Liberty, and Hipster Christianity: When Church and Cool Collide. Brett and his wife, Kira, live in Santa Ana, California. They belong to Southlands Church, where Brett serves as an elder. You can follow him on Twitter. 

Article posted at: https://www.thegospelcoalition.org/article/8-ways-battle-comfort-idolatry/

Two Different Ways to Think About Sex in Marriage

Article by Tim Challies

You have no right to a secret sex life. If you are married, you have no right to do anything outside the knowledge and consent of your spouse. That includes adultery, of course, but it also includes sinful fantasies and all manner of self-gratification. It’s simple. It’s obvious. It’s biblical. But it’s widely ignored. You have no right to a secret sex life because you do not own the rights to your body.

The first right of ownership is God’s. God created you and, as your creator, has rights over all of you. This is why God could declare how Adam and Eve were to put their bodies to use: “And God blessed them. And God said to them, ‘Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth and subdue it, and have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the heavens and over every living thing that moves on the earth’” (Genesis 1:28). He gave them arms and legs and hands and feet and told them to put them to use in exercising dominion over the world; he gave them sexual organs and told them to put them to use in procreation (later making it clear that pleasure is also a legitimate use of their bodies). You can do nothing to your body or with your body that is not consistent with the purpose for which God created it.

The second right of ownership is God’s. Yes, God owns it a second time, though this time we see the Son and Holy Spirit joining the Father in exerting their rights of ownership. God the Father owns it as your maker, God the Son owns it as your redeemer, and God the Holy Spirit owns it as the one who resides within it. In sin you essentially usurped God’s right of ownership, but Christ’s work on the cross bought it back. Here’s how Paul says it: “Or do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit within you, whom you have from God? You are not your own, for you were bought with a price. So glorify God in your body” (1 Corinthians 6:19-20). You can do nothing to your body or with your body that is not consistent with the purpose for which the Son redeemed it and for which the Holy Spirit indwells it. It is to be presented as a living sacrifice, committed to God’s purposes (Romans 12:1).

The third right of ownership is your spouse’s. If you are married, you have ceded all rights over your body to your spouse, at least in the area of sexuality. “For the wife does not have authority over her own body, but the husband does. Likewise the husband does not have authority over his own body, but the wife does” (1 Corinthians 7:4). Therefore, “the husband should give to his wife her conjugal rights, and likewise the wife to her husband” (7:3). In marriage, you willingly give your body to your spouse, acknowledging that you do so on their terms, not your own. You tacitly say, “This body is now your body, to be used as you see fit when you see fit.” This requires a husband and wife to willingly and joyfully give their bodies to one another and willingly and joyfully withhold their bodies from anyone else—including themselves.

God’s body, God’s way. God created my body and I will only ever use it in ways consistent with his will.

“My body, my way. This is my body and I will use it in any way I please.” This is the creed of the pagan and the creed of the Christian who is refusing to be obedient to God. Yet we were created to declare, “God’s body, God’s way. God created my body and I will only ever use it in ways consistent with his will.” And, in awe of God’s gift of a spouse to say, “her body, her way” or “his body, his way.” “I give my body to my spouse and will only ever use it in ways consistent with his or her will.”

Husband, your body is hers. You gave it to her and have no rights over it, no right to do what she does not consent to. Wife, your body is his. You have no right to do what he does not know about. Husband and wife are to take all the sexual desire, energy, and activity they’ve got and freely, joyfully cede it to their spouse. It’s God’s way.

Posted at:  https://www.challies.com/articles/two-different-ways-to-think-about-sex-in-marriage/

You Can’t Serve God and Entertainment

Article by Phillip Holmes

You love entertainment. On-demand streaming, live television, video-sharing websites, and social media are all at your fingertips. Your ability to access entertainment swiftly and effortlessly has encroached on every aspect of your life. Research recently revealed that you’re tempted to check Facebook every thirty-one seconds.

Are your friends boring you with dull conversation? Grab your iPhone. Is your wife annoying you? Turn on your television. Is your professor uninteresting? Sign into Facebook. Entertainment is your means of escape from the inconveniences of life into a comfortable world of fantasy. And your means of escape has made you a slave.

Confessions of a Slave

If I’m honest, I’ve had an unbridled love for frivolous entertainment — over the years I’ve used it primarily as a means of escape. Entertainment was used to distract me from the guilt of sin, friction in relationships, or anxiety about work. It became what daily prayer and Bible reading should have been: a safe haven to retreat for rest and comfort.

I failed to recognize that my never-ending pursuit to be entertained had turned me into a slave. My love for my new master was subtly causing contempt towards God and reticence in my duty to delight in him.

A Tale of Two Masters

In Matthew 6:24, Jesus reveals that when we gravitate toward entertainment as a means of comfort, we’re moving further and further away from our Creator. The notion of two masters is, in fact, a fictitious tale. It’s impossible to have more than one. Jesus exposes an insightful reality: Love for one will cause hatred toward the other.

If we devote inordinate amounts of time, money, and affection to anything, including entertainment, we will despise whatever draws us away. We’ve all been faced with the choice between spending time in prayer and God’s word or spending time with entertainment. At the crux of these crossroads, the all-satisfying gift of Jesus is pit against the temporal promises of entertainment. Whichever road is chosen increases hatred for the path denied.

When we choose the broad path to careless entertainment, seeds of contempt are planted for Christ. Likewise, when we choose the narrow road to Jesus, seeds of hatred are planted, not only for mindless entertainment, but all of our indwelling sin. This path reveals that endless entertainment is a cruel master that seeks to devour our true joy and lead us away from Christ, its source.

The Cruel Master

Entertainment over-promises but under-delivers. It is unable to satisfy what our hearts truly long for. We want rest. We want comfort. But entertainment can only offer a temporary fix. As soon as we wake up from hours of binging on Netflix or scrolling through social media, our problems remain, still waiting to be confronted. And we’re faced with the truth that all we’ve done is put off the inevitable.

Chasing joy in entertainment is like “chasing the dragon.” The term is a slang phrase, which refers to the continuous pursuit of an ultimate high previously obtained at the initial use of drugs.

For example, a drug user tries heroin for the first time and has an amazing experience. But when he returns to the drug, he can’t get that same experience. Instead, the experience gets weaker, so the user takes more and stronger heroin to reach that same feeling. As he “chases the dragon,” the user’s body decays inside and out. This decay usually manifests itself in extreme itching, unwanted weight loss, slurred speech, kidney or liver disease, and more.

Addiction to entertainment is similar. The physical and health effects may not be as striking as heroin, but the spiritual effects are costly. We chase mindless entertainment hoping for relief for our souls, but instead all it really can promise is death. It distracts us from the highest and ultimate good with a mirage of happiness and comfort.

Jesus Is the Good Master

In Matthew 11:28–30, Jesus invites all who labor and are burdened to come to him, promising to provide rest for our weary souls. This promise is not empty. In the gospel, he fulfills his promise by taking up our burden on the cross for our rest and joy in him.

“In communion with Jesus, we experience lasting joy that entertainment can only promise but never provide.”

I have never walked away disappointed when I’ve pursued my joy in God through prayer and Bible reading, reminded myself of his promises in the gospel, repented of my sin, and cried out to God for comfort. Were all of my problems solved? No. But my joy was restored, and my soul had feasted on his promises. Likewise, every time I’ve used entertainment as a means of relief for my soul, I was left wanting and unsatisfied.

Even still, when I find myself at that proverbial crossroads between communion with Christ and frivolous entertainment, I’m tempted to say yes to entertainment and no to God.

As we walk through life, we will be tempted to continue to engage entertainment carelessly and ignore our bondage. Some will continue to live like slaves, binging on entertainment and neglecting spiritual nourishment. But you don’t have to live in bondage.

The gospel supplies the power to say yes to God and no to endless entertainment. Here we uncover the beauty of our wonderful master and realize that Jesus is better. In communion with him, we experience lasting joy that entertainment can only promise but never provide.

The next time you find yourself at this familiar crossroads, cling to Jesus. Remember that he alone is your highest good. He died and rose so that we can experience communion with him, which provides the supreme joy that an escape to entertainment simply cannot compete with.

Phillip Holmes (@PhillipMHolmes) served as a content strategist at desiringGod.org. He is the Director of Communications at Reformed Theological Seminary and a finance coach and blogger through his site Money Untangle. He and his wife, Jasmine, have a son, and they are members of Redeemer Church in Jackson, Mississippi.

Article posted on:  https://www.desiringgod.org/articles/you-cant-serve-god-and-entertainment

When God Interrupts Your Plans

Article by Christina Fox

We were recently on a vacation when God interrupted my plans. My family and I had traveled hundreds of miles to stay at a hotel on the beach. I had made arrangements to spend one day visiting with friends. But then, in the middle of the night, the night before my scheduled day out, one of my kids woke up sick. I spent the whole next day stuck inside, staring out the hotel window at the long stretch of beach that was just outside of my reach.

An Interrupted Life

My life is filled with interruptions, inconveniences, frustrations, and unexpected events. Things break. Accidents happen. The phone rings just as I climb into bed. Traffic makes me late. Just when we don’t need another added expense, an appliance breaks. Unexpected illnesses change my carefully crafted plans. I could go on and on. You probably could too.

The problem is, I usually handle these interruptions to my life poorly. I react with frustration and anger. Like a young child, I want to stomp my feet and say, “It’s not fair!” I blame others for inconveniencing me. I’ll even throw my own pity parties.

“Small frustrations and interruptions give us opportunities to rely on God.”

Though these interruptions are unexpected and catch me off guard, they do not catch God off guard. They are not random, meaningless events. In fact, these interruptions are divinely placed in my path for a reason. God uses these interruptions to change me to be more like Christ.

Slow traffic, a sick child, or a costly home repair may not seem like important tools in our sanctification, but they are. We often overlook these interruptions and inconveniences and instead expect God to work in our lives through huge life-changing circumstances. But the reality is, we often won’t have major events in our life that cause us to trust God and obey him in some deeply profound way. We won’t be called to build an ark or take an only child up Mount Moriah. Rather, it’s in these small frustrations and interruptions, the little things in our life, where we are given opportunities to rely on God, to obey him, and to bring him glory.

Paul Tripp puts it like this:

You and I don’t live in a series of big, dramatic moments. We don’t careen from big decision to big decision. We all live in an endless series of little moments. The character of a life isn’t set in ten big moments. The character of a life is set in ten thousand little moments of everyday life. It’s the themes of struggles that emerge from those little moments that reveal what’s really going on in our hearts. (Whiter Than Snow, 21)

Interruptions of Grace

These ten thousand little moments come in the form of our children asking us to play a game with them when we are tied up with something else. They are moments like when we get stuck behind a school bus when we’re already late to an appointment, or when we have a flat tire on the way to work. They are in all those moments all throughout the day when things don’t go our way, our plans fail, and our life is interrupted.

It’s these moments where the rubber meets the road — where our faith is stretched and we look down to see whether we are standing on rock or sand. Do we really believe that God is in control of all the details of our life? Do we really believe that his grace is sufficient to get us through the day? Do we really believe that the gospel of Christ is powerful enough not only to save us for eternity, but also to sustain and strengthen us in the midst of life’s interruptions? Do we really believe that Christ is enough to satisfy all the deepest needs of our heart?

These interruptions are acts of God’s grace. They force us to work through these questions. They make us face our sin. They are God’s way of taking off our blinders and making us see that we need the gospel in every moment of the day. They are a light that shines on the darkest recesses of our heart, revealing the truth of what’s really there — the sins and idols that we’ve pushed off into the corner, thinking that if we can’t see them, they must not exist.

The Reminder We Need

These interruptions remind us that we don’t have life figured out and that we can’t do it on our own. They are like the Shepherd’s rod, pulling us back from our wandering ways, back to our Great Shepherd. We need these interruptions. Like nothing else, they push us to the cross of Christ where we must remember the gospel and receive his grace and forgiveness.

“Christ cares more about our transformation than about our daily comfort.”

It’s hard to see all the little frustrating events and interruptions in our day as divinely placed opportunities to grow in grace, but they are. And seeing them as such helps us take our eyes off ourselves and put them on Christ, who cares more about our transformation than about our daily comfort. Rather than giving us a life of ease, he interrupts our lives with grace and shows us what we need most of all: himself.

How about you? Is your life filled with interruptions? Do you see God’s hand at work in them?

Christina Fox (@christinarfox) writes for a number of Christian ministries and publications including True Woman, ERLC, and The Gospel Coalition. She is the author of Closer Than a Sister: How Union with Christ helps Friendships to Flourish. You can find her at www.christinafox.com and on Facebook.

Article originally posted at:  https://www.desiringgod.org/articles/when-god-interrupts-your-plans

Prayerlessness Is Selfishness

by Tim Challies

I have said it often and said it recently, that prayer has always been a struggle for me. It’s not that I don’t pray—I do!—but that I find it a battle to put my theology into action day-by-day and to live out my deepest convictions about prayer by actually praying. I experience little of the joy and sense of fulfillment that so many of the great pray-ers speak of. As often as not, I have to rely on the objective facts of what I believe about prayer more than any subjective feeling or sense of satisfaction.

Last week I received a jolt when I read H.B. Charles Jr.’s It Happens After Prayer. If I can read a whole book and hang on to one big application or one big challenge, I consider it a book that has been well worth the time I’ve invested in it. There were several helpful takeaways from Charles’ book, but the one I expect to stick with me is this: “The things you pray about are the things you trust God to handle. The things you neglect to pray about are the things you trust you can handle on your own.” On one level it’s an obvious insight, but then again, the best insights usually are. I should have known it, and, in fact, I think I did know it. But I needed it clearly spelled out to me at this time in my life.

As I prayed last week, and as I gave attention to preparing a sermon, I was struck by a related thought: Prayerlessness is selfishness. I had been spending time praying as per Mike McKinley’s oh-so-helpful guidelines and found myself praying that I would grow in love for those who would hear the sermon, that I would have wisdom to apply the text to their lives, that I would see how the passage confronts the unbelief of those who would hear it, and so on. And it struck me that for me not to pray, and not to pray fervently, during the process of sermon preparation would be the height of selfishness. I would be trusting that I could handle crafting the sermon and coming up with just the right applications all on my own. I would be effectively denying the Lord the opportunity to do his work through this sermon. “You go do something else; I’ve got this one!”

The text itself gave me an illustration. I was preaching the first chapter of Jonah and there we see Jonah aboard a ship in the middle of a storm so powerful that it threatens to destroy the boat and all aboard it. There is only one man on that ship who fears God, only one man who has the ability to cry out to a God who actually exists and who actually has the power to calm the storm. And he is the one man who refuses to cry out to his God, the one man who goes below and falls asleep. Even when the captain wakes him and rebukes him for his prayerlessness we get no indication that he prays. His prayerlessness is selfishness and further threatens the crew of that little ship.

If I believe that prayer works, if I believe that prayer is a means through which the Lord acts, if I believe that God chooses to work through prayer in powerful ways and in ways he may not work without prayer, then it is selfish of me not to pray. To pray is to love; not to pray is to be complacent, to be unloving, to be selfish.

Prayerlessness is selfishness for the pastor who does not pray through the process of preparing a sermon. He expresses love for his church when he prays and pleads for the Lord’s wisdom and insight.

Prayerlessness is selfishness for the father who does not pray for his children, for their safety, their sanctification, their salvation, their obedience, their every need.

Prayerlessness is selfishness for the church member who does not pray for the Lord’s grace to be extended to his friends, for those who are battling a specific sin and seeing both encouraging victories and heartbreaking failure.

Prayerlessness is selfishness for the Christian who does not pray for his neighbors, that the Lord would save them and that the Lord would even use him as the one to share with them the good news of the gospel.

Prayerlessness is selfishness for each of us when we neglect to pray for our brothers and sisters around the world who are facing persecution. To neglect to pray for them is to tell the Lord that he may as well allow them to continue to suffer.

And if prayerlessness is selfishness, than one of the ways I can best love my church and family and friends and neighbors and distant brothers and sisters is to go to my knees and to intercede on their behalf.

Originally posted at:  https://www.challies.com/christian-living/prayerlessness-is-selfishness/