When Counselees Ask "Why?"

By Wendy Wood

When Counselees Ask ‘Why’?

By Wendy Wood

A human’s desire to understand the cause or reason for something begins early. Every parent can attest to the “why?” phase that toddlers and preschoolers go through as they seek to understand the world and people around them.  When asked to perform a task like “clean up your room”, your child will want an explanation of the reasoning behind the request. “Why should I clean my room?” When they are looking up at the trees a child will ask “Why are the leaves changing colors?”  As we grow and learn, we continue to seek understanding of our circumstances and especially our suffering. We will inevitably have counselees who ask “why did God allow this to happen?” “Why did my relationship of over a year end suddenly and without explanation?”  “Why did my mom die in a car accident when I was a child?”  “Why is my teenager rebelling when I have parented so faithfully?”  “Why have I had so many trials these last few years?”  Almost everyone who comes to you for counseling will be seeking to understand “why”?

Asking “why?” can be a good question, but it can also reveal a sinful desire for control.  I usually find counselees who think they are asking the question innocently and believe they are desiring to understand God and His ways better, but often it is a deceitful heart that is trying to figure out how to avoid painful circumstances in the future.  When asked from a good desire, the “why” of some situation can be rooted in wanting to see the sin exposed by the suffering.  For example, when a romantic relationship ends that a counselee believed would lead to marriage, the “why did this happen?” question could be a desire to search one’s heart for idolatrous desires or to examine how he/she contributed to the relationship in positive and negative ways and seek to grow in some relational areas. If “why” is used to examine the heart and repent and be sanctified, the “why” questions can be beneficial.

However, asking “why?” can also reveal sinful motives.  Asking “why” might reveal a desire to control future outcomes by trying to figure out how to “outsmart” the situation.  This is really rooted in idolatrous control.  If I can figure out what happened, I can control the next situation.  Rather than submitting to God and being dependent on Him, “why” can become the solution to the problem and God can be eliminated from the situation.  In the example of the broken relationship, if you can answer “why did this relationship end?” with five steps to hold onto a relationship, you can convince yourself you have it figured out and don’t need to surrender your plans and relationships to the Lord.  

Asking “why did ____ happen?” may also be a way of putting God on trial.  By asking “why” in this way, a counselee may be demanding that God explain Himself and that He needs to prove that He is justified in allowing this suffering into his/her life.  Asking God to justify His actions is extremely prideful!  By asking “why” in this fashion a counselee is claiming that God is on trial because he/she knows better than God does and would have made a wiser decision than He did.  We rarely recognize and admit how prideful we are in this area. But this type of questioning often leads to bitterness and resentment to God and others.  If we cannot make sense of our circumstances, surely they are wrong, and the sovereign God who purposed them is therefore wrong, too.

The book of Job records many times when Job and his friends are seeking understanding of the extreme trials Job has endured.  In Job 1 and 2 we read that Job lost all his sheep, camels, and livestock,  all his servants, and all his children.  Job continues to worship God and trust in Him.  But then, Job is struck with boils and sores all over his body.  Job tears his robes, puts ashes on his head, and continues to accept that God gives good and evil.  As he sits alone, his friends join him and wisely stay quiet at first.  Then Job asks “Why did I not die at birth, come out from the womb and expire?... or why was I not as a hidden stilborn child, as infants who never see the light?” (Job 3:11, 16)  Essentially, Job wishes he had died or birth or never even been born.  The suffering is so intense he is seeking to understand why he ever lived if God was going to bring the loss of everything.  He is wanting God to explain the reasoning behind his suffering. 

Job’s friends then respond with some unhelpful advice.  Eliphaz, Bildad, and Zophar answer Job’s question of “why” with “you’ve sinned and you are getting what you deserve.”  They all tell Job that he needs to repent.  For example, in Job 8:20, Bildad says, “Behold, God will not reject a blameless man, nor take the hand of evildoers.” The friends argue that Job is suffering because God is just in punishing sin.  He has not been completely righteous and his sin has led to God’s judgment, is their assessment. They argue God is just and, therefore, Job is getting what he deserves.  If Job repents and turns to God, his suffering will end.  Eliphaz tells Job in Job 15:4-6 “But you are doing away with the fear of God and hindering mediation before God. For your iniquity teaches your mouth, and you choose the tongue of the crafty.  Your own mouth condemns you, and not I; your own lips testify against you”.  Eliphaz agrees that Job's question of “why am I suffering?” is answered with “you have sinned”.

Job begins to question God more aggressively seeking God’s response and justification for what Job has lost and the suffering he is enduring.  Job 19:7-11 records Job crying out. “Behold, I cry out, “Violence!” but I am not answered; I call for help, but there is no justice.  He has walled up my way, so that I cannot pass, and he has set darkness upon my paths.  He has stripped from me my glory and taken the crown from my head.  He breaks me down on every side, and I am gone, and my hope has he pulled up like a tree.  He has kindled his wrath against me and counts me as his adversary.”  Job feels like God is against him.  In Job 29, Job cries out, “Oh, that I were as in the months of old, as in the days when God watched over me, when his lamp shone on my head, and by his light I walked through darkness, as I was in my prime, when the friendship of God was upon my tent, when the Almighty was yet with me” (2-5a). Job longs for the days when God was with him and blessing him.  Job answers his own question of “why?” with “because God has abandoned me”.

As Job and his four friends (Elihu remained silent longer) seek for answers, God remains silent for 37 chapters.  God has listened to all these men ask “why has Job suffered so much?”  God has listened to them as they have tried to answer that question and God has listened as they have mixed truth about his character with lies about his judgment.  None of these five men saw the conversations that took place between God and Satan.  None of them hear God declare Job righteous and faithful.  None of them see or hear that Satan is trying to persuade Job to distrust God and God is holding Job faithful.  This is part of a cosmic battle that humans on earth don’t see.  God is demonstrating his power and glory over Satan by being the anchor of Job’s soul that keeps him faithful to God regardless of his suffering.

In chapter 38 God speaks.  While God remained silent for most of this book and through most of the unfolding of events, the book of Job is all about God.  God speaks out of the whirlwind.  “Who is this that darkens counsel by words without knowledge? Dress for action like a man; I will question you, and you make it known to me. (Job 38:2-3).  God is about to answer Job and his friends.  And, God, being all wise and knowing, responds perfectly.  God doesn’t justify his actions. God doesn’t even address the suffering. God does not owe Job or his friends any explanation.  God responds with 38 questions of His own that reveal who He is.  The best response is to say, ‘Look at God.’ ‘Look at how awesome, mighty, powerful, perfect, good, and wise God is. God challenges Job to answer questions like, ‘Where were you when I laid the foundation of the world?” Or, “Do you know when every single mountain goat gives birth?”  “Do you keep the storehouses of hail?”  On and on, God reveals Himself as the Sovereign King of the universe.  And this is ALWAYS the answer to our “why?” questions.  We don’t have to understand why God does what He does.  God does not owe us any explanation of His purposes and ways of accomplishing His will.  Deuteronomy 29:29 reminds us “the secret things of God belong to God” but he has chosen to reveal enough of Himself to us.  We are to trust His very nature.  We are to put our hope in His character.  In humility, we are called to trust God’s essence.  Corrie ten Boom says, “Never be afraid to trust an unknown future to a known God.”  Our counselees need to know God.  They do not need to know why God does what he does.

When your counselee asks “why is this happening?”, lead them to God and His character.  Remind them of God’s attributes.  Remind them of the cross as God’s evidence of His love and grace and that God is for His children.  Remind them of God’s promises that He is with them in the storms and trials and that this life is a momentary affliction producing a weight of glory for eternity.

Trust in the God Who Provides

Trust the God Who Provides (Not the Means He Uses)

By Colin Smith

Elijah is in Cherith, a remote place where God hides him, leads him, and feeds him. Here is this man who trusts and obeys God, and God is providing for him. There is a brook, and Elijah is able to drink from it. And when he does, he must have said, “Thank you Lord! Every day you provide for me through this brook.” Look what happens next:

After a while, the brook dried up because there was no rain in the land… (1 Kings 17:7).

God used the brook to sustain Elijah, and now the means God had used to provide for His servant dried up. Perhaps you are in exactly this position today. God has provided a stream of income for you through a certain form of work. The work you have done, the business you have pursued, has been your brook. But now the brook is drying up. What was working before, isn’t working now. It becomes obvious that you have to move on.

Others are not there yet, but you can see that there is less water in the brook of God’s provision for you than there used to be. You wonder what the future is going to hold for you, and you say, “What happens if this brook dries up altogether?”

Elijah must have expected this. He told the king there would be no rain, and if there’s no rain, the brook will eventually dry up. The dry brook is evidence that God keeps His promise. The same hand that held back the rain would soon pour out His provision through the oil and the flour.

Know When It’s Time to Move On 

The Word of the Lord came to him: “Arise and go to Zarephath which belongs to Sidon, and dwell there. Behold, I have commanded a widow there to feed you” (1 Kings 17:8).

God has more than one way of supplying what you need. When one means of supply dries up, God will provide another. What we learn here is to trust the God who provides, not His means of supply.

If you have had a stable and steady job for 5, 10, or 20 years, it’s easy to get the idea that the job that is what provides for you. No, God provides for you. He may do that through the job and if that stream dries up, He will provide for you in another way.

You may say—God has provided a small group for me, a dear friend for me, a healthy church for me, a wonderful ministry for me. These are the means of God’s supply. The way God supplies will change. The brook will dry up. Change will come in your life.

When that happens, God will call you to leave Cherith and go to Zarephath, where He will provide for you in another way. Don’t get fixated on the means of His supply. Trust the Lord who provides, because He never changes. If you cling to how God has blessed you in the past, you may miss how He will bless you in the future. Clinging to Cherith when God calls you to Zarephath is the surest way to miss God’s blessing.

God says to Elijah, “The brook that was such a blessing to you in the past is not what I have for you now. I’m drying it up.” But there is blessing and ministry for you in a place where you’d least expect it—Zarephath!

Walk in Faith and Obedience 

So [Elijah] arose and went to Zarephath. And when he came to the gate of the city, behold a widow was there gathering sticks (1 Kings 17:10).

Obedience was the pattern of Elijah’s life. When he arrived in Zarephath there was a woman in desperate poverty, gathering sticks on the dump outside the city. Elijah asks her for a drink, and as the woman turns to go and get the water, Elijah says, “And bring me some bread” (17:11).

The woman says, “As the Lord your God lives” (17:12). She knows who the Lord is, but she is not yet a believer. At this point in the story, the Lord is Elijah’s God, not hers. “As the Lord your God lives, I have nothing baked, only a handful of flowers in a jar and a little oil in a jug” (17:12). There she was at the dump outside the city gathering sticks to make a fire. On this fire she planned to bake some bread, with the full expectation that this would be her last meal.

Then we have these astonishing words:

Elijah said to her, “Do not fear; go and do as you have said. But first make me a little cake of it and bring it to me, and afterward make something for yourself and your son (1 Kings 17:13).

Elijah was a prophet. That means he spoke the word of God. What the prophet says, God says. So, the word of the Lord comes to this woman through Elijah, calling her to make a great sacrifice.

Notice God also gives her a great promise: “For thus says the Lord, the God of Israel, ‘The jar of flour shall not be spent, and the jug of oil shall not be empty, until the day that the Lord sends rain on the earth’” (17:14). Someone might say, “Well, this sounds a bit like the health and wealth gospel to me.” Not a bit of it. God never promised wealth to the woman. The promise was not “Make me a cake and I’ll give you a bread factory.” The promise was “Bake me a cake, and the jar of flour will not be empty. The jug of oil will not run dry.”

God will provide what you need when you need it—not an overflowing jar and an overflowing jug. You can trust Him as you walk with Him in faith and obedience.

Three Ways Meekness Fuels Peace

Andrea Lea

Joy Davidman, C.S. Lewis’s wife, wrestled with huge trials throughout her life—all the way to her early death from cancer at age 45. She learned there’s a big difference between saying to God, “Your will be done,” and, “Fine, have it your way.”[1]

When we are confronted with circumstances outside our control, we are tempted to an angry resignation: “Fine, have it your way.” But a trusting humility before God and His ways fuels deep peace. This gentle submission, otherwise known as meekness, is an unexpected but important way to fight for peace during trials.[2]

If you are anything like me, the trial that is COVID-19 has spotlighted some cracks in your life. And as life-disruption wears on, the pressure may be making these gaps more obvious. It’s tempting to think that demanding more control in key areas will generate peace. But true peace doesn’t come from a sense of control. Peace is fueled by meekness, the quiet submission of our souls to God and His will. Here are three ways to grow in meekness so peace can flourish in our homes and hearts:

The Meek See the Choice

The meek realize they have a choice in how to respond when their desires are not met. They don’t lash out in anger and complaint. They know they can turn to the Lord in prayer and thanksgiving instead of turning to grumbling and self-pity.

Jude, the brother of Jesus, describes people who don’t see this choice as “grumblers and malcontents” (Jude 1:13, 16).  They seem to believe they have a right to complain and rage when they don’t get what they want. They choose to follow their own sinful desires instead of following God in trust and thanksgiving.

We grow in meekness when we see we have a choice and move toward God in prayer instead of tossing out harsh critiques of God’s ways. Prayer can compose our souls and bring us into submission to God’s path, even when we are uncomfortable and inconvenienced. The childless Hannah struggled with irritation and despair as her husband’s second wife constantly taunted her. She longed for her barren circumstances to change. She poured out her trouble and grief to God. And before God answered her prayer, her soul was quiet because she knew God had heard and was with her (see 1 Sam. 1-2 and Ps. 62).

The Meek Reject Self-Righteousness

The meek recognize the slippery slope of self-righteousness that disrupts peace in hearts and homes. They see how their haughty hearts are quick to find fault and are easily outraged when their plans are disrupted. They know they are prone to excuse their irritability by pretending their idolatrous desire for order and control is noble.

The meek fight for peace by rejecting this self-righteous irritability. As we turn to the only Righteous One, we see our patient God who freely gives us a clean record and a warm welcome long before we are perfect (Rom. 5:1-5; 8:1; Col. 2:13-14). So, in imitation of Him, we can overlook the faults of others, or we can gently reprove without anger or clamor (Eph. 4:31). The meek reject the pride that claims to know best and to always do what’s right. Instead, the meek extend gentleness and grace because they know the One who graciously forbears with them even though they are beset with weakness and sin (Heb. 5:2).

The Meek Embrace Patience

Oxford’s English Dictionary defines patience as the “capacity to accept or tolerate delay, trouble, or suffering without getting angry or upset.”[3] The meek accept trouble and hardship for one fundamental reason: they recognize that God is the Author of their circumstances (Isa. 45:7). God really does work all things according to the counsel of His will (Eph. 1:11; Job 42:2)—even when we don’t see how things could possibly bring glory to God and even when we are in pain (Isa. 46:10; 2 Cor. 1:8-9). When we trust God’s goodness and power, we can patiently endure the circumstances He has ordained. God gives the grace to patiently bear trials as we fix our eyes on His steadfast love and discipline ourselves to trust Him.

During this season of uncertainty, circumstances seem engineered to disrupt our plans. But growing in meekness can fuel our peace even when our preferences and desires remain unfulfilled. We can calmly see the choice we have to trust and give thanks, to reject self-righteousness, and to embrace patience. No matter what the day holds, we can say with peace, “Your will be done.”[4]

Question for Reflection

What passages from God’s Word are fueling your peace during this pandemic season?

[1] Patti Callahan, Becoming Mrs. Lewis (Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 2018), 161.

[2] For verses on meekness see: 1 Peter 3:4, 3:15; Titus 3:2; James 1:21, 3:13; Galatians 5:23.

[3] Oxford English Dictionary, “Patience,”  https://www.lexico.com/en/definition/patience (accessed 5/14/20).

[4] For an excellent treatment of meekness, see Matthew Henry’s The Quest for Meekness and Quietness of Spirit (Eugene, OR: Wipf and Stock Publishers, 2017).

Andrea Lee

Andrea Lee serves as a biblical counselor for women at Mount Vernon Baptist Church in Atlanta, GA. She has a Masters of Arts in Biblical Counseling from The Masters University. Andrea has been married to her husband, Darien, since 2006.

Posted at: https://www.biblicalcounselingcoalition.org/2020/07/27/three-ways-meekness-fuels-peace/

Above All These, Put on Love Part 13 (Loves Hope All Things and Endures All Things)

Love Hopes All Things and Endures All Things

By Wendy Wood

Love hopes all things.  The Greek is elpizō.  Hope means to wait with full confidence and joy.  A Christian lives a life of hope in the gospel of Christ.  A believer doesn’t cross their fingers or wish for an unsure future, but is rock solid in the guarantee of salvation by grace through faith in Jesus Christ.

Consider what the Bible says about HOPE!

1 Peter 1:3-4  “Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! According to his great mercy, he has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead;  to an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you,”.  We are born again to a living hope!  Our hope is living because our Savior is living.  Christ rose from the dead and ascended to be in heaven as our living advocate and mediator.  Our hope is alive and we know that we will live eternally in God’s presence because of this promise.  Our hope is imperishable - we can’t lose our salvation!  Our hope is undefiled - it cannot be tainted in any way!  Our hope is unfading - it is eternal!

Colossians 1:27  “To them God chose to make known how great among the Gentiles are the riches of the glory of this mystery, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory.”  Christ is our hope.  He indwells every believer.  We receive His power and His presence!  Our hope is in a real person who lived, died, and rose.

Colossians 1:23  “if indeed you continue in the faith, stable and steadfast, not shifting from the hope of the gospel that you heard, which has been proclaimed in all creation”.  The hope of the gospel is that it is the power of God to save and sanctify people for the Lord (Romans 1:16).  Our hope is in God’s power and His decisive will to save to the uttermost those who believe (Hebrews 7:25).

Hebrews 6:17-18  “So when God desired to show more convincingly to the heirs of the promise the unchangeable character of his purpose, he guaranteed it with an oath, so that by two unchangeable things, in which it is impossible for God to lie, we who have fled for refuge might have strong encouragement to hold fast to the hope set before us.”  God does not change.  Our hope is secure because He will never change!  God swears by His own name.  There is no variation or shadow due to change in our God (James 1:17). He does not change so our hope is unwavering.

Hebrews 6:19  “We have this as a sure and steadfast anchor of the soul, a hope that enters into the inner place behind the curtain”.  Our hope is in Christ, who was our perfect substitutionary atonement, who opened the way for us to be in relationship with God.  The inner place behind the curtain was only for the high priest in the old testament who would make sacrifices once a year for the sins of the people.  When Christ died on the cross, the curtain in the temple was torn from top to bottom.  This is a picture of God now providing access to Himself through faith in the atoning work of Christ.  We are not dependent on a priest because Christ was the final High Priest whose sacrifice was once for all sins.

Romans 15:13   “May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope.”  God is the God of hope!  God confidently and joyfully knows the future.  God isn’t an angry person expecting doom.  God is directing all things to bring about His purpose and is 100% guaranteed that purpose will stand.  He fills believers with joy and peace so that by the Holy Spirit, which He gives us, we abound in hope too!

These are just a few of the many verses about our hope.  Hope is trusting God’s nature, His attributes, so that we live in a way that demonstrates how sure His promises are.  

So what does this have to do with “love hopes all things”?

Do your relationships reflect a hope that God is who He says He is, that Christ is all you need, and that your future is in heaven with God? 

Do your relationships show that you know eternity with God is your real home and that in this life you are an exile, sojourner, a mist that will vanish soon?

When we are not living in this hope, we tend to act like we need to make sure we get what we want now.  Oftentimes, our responses to others show we believe we have to be treated with respect to be happy.  Maybe we are tempted to be “right” and prove it because our hope is in justifying ourselves.  Maybe our dream of what life will be like is so important to us that we prioritize our job or financial security over God.  Maybe for you, it’s the picture of what a Christian family looks like that is where you place your hope and you will fret and stew with anxiety over a mistake or sin your child is involved in.

When “love hopes all things” we live with confident and joyful hope in God.  We trust His promises that He rewards those who earnestly seek Him (Hebrews 11:6)  and that giving up our desires now will lead to great reward (Mark 10:30).  If we truly place our hope in Christ, that relationship with Him is what will bring joy and peace and satisfaction, we won’t need to seek those things from other people.  We will be able to respond with love even when others do not.  Knowing that our hope is secure because it is in Christ, should change how we are in relationship with family, friends, church members, neighbors, and even enemies.

Where do you place your hope?  

Is your hope in having your circumstances change or is it in God?

Is your hope in having people around you change or is it in God’s promises?

Is your hope in being loved and respected by people or is your hope in what Christ has already made you to be?

Is your hope in your career, family, status, or possessions, or is your hope in heaven?

The way we interact with people shows where we are placing our hope.  Do you live in such a way that you display the greatness and surety of God’s promises?

Love endures all things.  Love perseveres.  You’ve studied the multi-faceted love God calls His children to live out.  Love endures all things means that there is never a time when these evidences of love should stop.  Love will continue to be patient and kind.  Love will continue to put aside arrogance and boasting and be humble.  Love will honor others ahead of self.  Love will continue to respond with grace and mercy when wronged.  Love will persevere in forgiveness even when sinned against repeatedly.  Love will grieve over sin and rejoice when God is honored.  Love will continue to cover over other minor sins and be gentle in correction.  Love will give charitable assumptions until it is wise to draw other conclusions based on evidence.  Love will place its hope in the only One who is secure and steadfast.   Love will endure because God has loved us this way!

Application:

1. What did you learn about love in this section?

2. Based on how you respond to your circumstance, where do you place your hope?

3. Write your own summary of the hope we have in Christ.

4. What scripture about hope do you need to meditate on and memorize?  Write it out and start working on it!

5. What will it look like in your relationships to demonstrate your hope is in Christ?

Ten Reasons to Love and Trust Jesus

By: Pat Quinn

In our perilous time of pandemic, disruption, and death, Jesus shines forth with hope-filled and glorious love and power. As counselors today, we share the same circumstantial fears, frustrations, and isolation as those we counsel, and we need the same Jesus we commend to them. Mark 5:21-43 records two stories of Jesus dealing with seemingly impossible situations: the healing of the woman with an incurable discharge of blood and the raising of Jairus’ daughter from the dead. Both of these accounts point to a Savior who is utterly reliable and unfailingly strong in the most trying of circumstances. These two stories provide ten solid reasons to love and trust Jesus Christ in the hardest situations.

Ten Reasons to Love and Trust Jesus

1. Jesus is compassionately responsive to urgent requests for help.

Jairus, a ruler of a local synagogue, pleads with Jesus to come and heal his dying daughter. Mark records simply, “And he went with him” (Mark 5:24). No hesitation; no request for information. Jesus responds immediately. He could have healed her right away from a distance and said, “Go home; your daughter will live.” By agreeing to go with Jairus to his house, there would be a delay and then a costly interruption and, therefore, an extended time for Jairus to have to wait anxiously. This reminds us that Jesus always hears and responds to our cries for help, but the timing and method of His help are in His sovereign hands. Delays and frustrating interruptions may come but cannot ultimately hinder His work.

2. Jesus is absolutely undaunted by “impossible” situations.

There are three increasingly difficult situations Jesus deals with here. First, a daughter at the point of death—urgent. Second, a woman who had been bleeding for twelve years who had spent all her money and had only gotten worse—desperate. Third, during the delay dealing with the woman, the daughter dies—beyond all help. However, Jesus is unfazed by the escalating problems. Sickness, incurable disease, and even death do not trouble Him. As He told His disciples later, “All things are possible for God” (Mark 10:27).

3. Jesus calls needy sinners to engage with Him face-to-face.

As Jesus follows Jairus, the woman with the discharge of blood touches His garment and is immediately healed. Jesus perceives that power had gone out from Him and asks, “Who touched my garment” (Mark 5:30)? The terrified woman comes forward and tells Him what she did, probably expecting to be rebuked for touching Jesus when she was unclean. However, Jesus unexpectedly reassures her. Why did He call her out of hiding? I believe it is because Jesus doesn’t merely want to help people; He wants to make disciples. This is important in our counseling troubled people. The ultimate goal of our counseling is not just to help people work through their problems, even with Jesus’ help. The goal is that they would see His glory, love Him, and follow Him in committed discipleship.

4. Jesus responds powerfully to the “touch of faith.”

Verses 27-29 says, “She had heard the reports about Jesus and came up behind him in the crowd and touched his garment. For she said, ‘If I touch even his garments, I will be made well.’ And immediately the flow of blood dried up, and she felt in her body she was healed of her disease.” She heard about Jesus, she sought Him out, and she “touched” Him in faith. This describes well what we attempt to do in biblical counseling: point people to the real Jesus, showing through scripturally faithful and creative means who Jesus is, what He has accomplished, and what He promises to do. Then we seek to lead them sensitively to actually touch Him in faith-filled prayer. Every sincere cry for help, however feeble, is touching Jesus. And it always results in a response from Him. Like Jairus, it may encounter delays or unexpected hindrances. The answer might not be exactly how and when we pictured it, but Jesus promises that if we ask, it will be given (Matt. 7:7-11).

5. Jesus confirms and commends genuine faith.

I love how Jesus responds to the woman’s faith. As she comes “in fear and trembling,” anticipating Jesus’ displeasure at her presumption, He says to her, “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease” (Mark 5:34). Marvel at His gifts of grace: He tenderly calls her “daughter;” He commends her faith in front of a crowd that would earlier have looked down on her, thus restoring her to community; He offers her the peace that has eluded her for so long; He confirms her healing and the new life she has been given. This is the Jesus we connect our counselees to—the gentle Healer who “took our illnesses and bore our diseases” (Matt. 8:17) on the cross and who longs to give new life to those who reach out to Him in faith.

6. Jesus confronts fear and despair with, “Do not fear; only believe.”

I’m so thankful that the Bible is utterly realistic. While the story of Jesus (and all who are united to Him by faith) ends with the happiest of all happily ever afters, there are surprising setbacks and discouraging plot twists along the way. Jairus, who has been anxiously waiting for Jesus to finish dealing with the woman, is now confronted with, “Your daughter is dead: Why trouble the teacher any further?” (Mark 5:35). This is what life looks and feels like sometimes: things are desperate, we cry out to God, and then they get worse. They seem to go from difficult to desperate to improbable to impossible. How striking that Jesus speaks what sounds like a crazy command to Jairus: “Do not fear; only believe” (Mark 5:36). How can Jesus say this? How can we believe in the face of death itself? Jesus knows what we often forget or simply struggle to believe: He is the Son of God, the resurrection and life (John 11:25), the all-sufficient Creator and Redeemer. He has the power to raise the dead! How important for us to meditate long and hard on the character and power of Christ so we can commend Him to hopeless counselees.

7. Jesus radically reinterprets hopeless situations.

Death is final. It’s the end of life and the end of hope. It’s the final loss of everything. So how does Jesus address death? What is His interpretation? Again, His reply is shocking but shockingly hopeful: “Why are you making a commotion and weeping? The child is not dead but sleeping” (Mark 5:39). Why does Jesus say this? If the child had been hooked up to a heart monitor, it would have flatlined. He says this because to Him, death is merely sleep, and He can wake her by calling gently to her and telling her to get up. That’s what it means to be the Son of God. You see everything differently because you have all power and authority in heaven and earth (Matt. 28:18). Biblical counselors have the privilege of connecting our counselees’ stories to Jesus’ story so we can help them reinterpret their circumstances in a realistic yet hopeful way. Because of Jesus’ death and resurrection, our lives are ultimately comedies, not tragedies, and this story helps us interpret them that way.

 8. Jesus tenderly raises little ones to new life.

“Talitha cumi…Little girl I say to you, arise” (Mark 5:41). One of our granddaughters is named Talitha. When her mom was pregnant with her, there was a time when they thought they had lost her. Thankfully, that didn’t turn out to be the case. One of the reasons they named her Talitha was because they felt like they had received her back when they thought they had lost her. Needless to say, the name Talitha and this story are precious to me. I am drawn again to the power and tenderness of Jesus. He radiates compassion for this family, love for this little girl, the power to raise the dead, and a burning desire for all to see Him as He is and trust Him with what is most precious to us.

9. Jesus cares about our most practical earthly needs.

Most of this story soars in the stratosphere of Jesus’ transcendent power over sickness and death. We are breathing the air of heaven and walking on holy ground. I smile, therefore, when at the end of this amazing story, Jesus tells the parents to “give her something to eat” (Mark 5:43). From the heights of heaven to the mundane needs of the earth. “She looks a little pale. Why don’t you make her some lunch.” He responds to our desperate cries for supernatural power as well as our ordinary needs for food and drink. This is an important reminder to me as I counsel. I am wired more to attend to spiritual needs. I need to remember and remind my counselees that Jesus cares just as much for our practical needs. What a Savior!

10. Jesus is utterly amazing in every way.

This story is an eloquent testimony to the beauty and greatness of Jesus. It impresses upon us that the only reasonable response to Him is to be “overcome with amazement” (Mark 5:42). The goal of our counseling can be nothing less than grateful worship and joyful service to our Redeemer and King.

Ten reasons to love and trust Jesus: let us commit ourselves to learning, living, and lavishing them on those entrusted to our care.

 Questions for Reflection

1. What do you see about Jesus in these two stories that moves you to love and wonder?

2. Think of someone you’re counseling who is facing desperate circumstances. Which of the ten reasons does this person especially need to see and take to heart?

3. How can you help him/her to see Jesus more clearly, love Him more genuinely, and trust Him more fully?

Posted at: https://www.biblicalcounselingcoalition.org/2020/05/11/ten-reasons-to-love-and-trust-jesus/

His Delight Is Not in Your Strength

Article by Marshall Segal

We discover where we really find our strength not when we feel strong, but when we feel weak.

Exhaustion and frustration have a way of blowing away the fog, revealing what’s really happening inside of us: Have we been leaning on God for all that we need, or have we made his help, his strength, his guidance a kind of last resort? Many of us are more self-reliant than we would admit, and self-reliance is far more dangerous than it sounds.

The widespread delusion, especially among more secular people, is that I can do anything, if I am willing to work hard. I am stronger than I think, strong enough to do anything I want to do in the world. The reality, however, is that the vast majority of us are weaker than we realize — and yet love to think ourselves strong. And that false sense of strength not only intensifies our arrogance and our ineffectiveness, but it also offends our God.

His delight is not in the strength of the horse,
     nor his pleasure in the legs of a man,
but the Lord takes pleasure in those who fear him,
     in those who hope in his steadfast love. (Psalm 147:10–11)

Our delight is often in the strength of our legs — our work ethic, our perseverance, our cleverness, our strategies. And that temptation touches every part of life — at work, in ministry, at home — because every part of life in a fallen world requires strength. But God is not pleased by all that we can do — unless we do all that we do in his strength, and not our own.

Rejoice in All He Can Do

One way to combat a sinful sense of self-sufficiency is to meditate on all that only God can do — all that he can do, that we cannot. Psalm 147 models how to expose and unravel the lies of pride with the strength and authority of God.

The psalm says that God alone places each cloud in the sky (Psalm 147:8). He chooses when, where, and how much rain will fall, and he tends every millimeter of every blade of grass.

God alone crafts every snowflake that falls, fashions every inch of frost, and decides just how cold it will be (Psalm 147:16–17). Every aspect of our winters is scripted and conducted by him, including precisely when they end (Psalm 147:18).

God alone feeds the elephants, the sharks, the squirrels, and even the ants (Psalm 147:9). When newborn birds whimper in hunger, he hears each faint cry.

God alone can count every star in the universe (Psalm 147:4) — and not only count them, but decide their number and give them each a name.

God alone heals the wounds of the brokenhearted (Psalm 147:3). Very few are ever tempted to think we ourselves could bring rain, make snow, or count the stars, but we might be tempted to think we could heal a broken heart. We might imagine we could compensate for someone’s loss, or talk someone out of despair, or save someone’s marriage. But Psalm 147 says that God is the healing one.

God alone makes peace (Psalm 147:14). We cannot achieve real peace — in families or friendships, in a church or a nation — unless God quiets the conflict and awakens harmony. If we think we can achieve peace without God, we have not understood peace, or God.

“Great is our Lord, and abundant in power; his understanding is beyond measure” (Psalm 147:5). Our power is small and often failing, but his power is abundant and never exhausted. Our understanding is extremely limited and often flawed, but his understanding is universal and inscrutable. Why would we ever rely on ourselves?

Embrace How Little You Can Do

Yet we do rely on ourselves. We slip into habits of living, and working, and serving that don’t require him, and sometimes that barely even acknowledge him. Jeremiah’s warning is as sobering in our day as it was in his: “Thus says the Lord: ‘Cursed is the man who trusts in man and makes flesh his strength, whose heart turns away from the Lord’” (Jeremiah 17:5). The man who deep down trusts in himself cannot help but slowly walk away from God.

We fight sinful self-sufficiency by glorying in all that God can do, and we fight by learning to embrace just how little we can do apart from him. Jesus says to his disciples, “I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing” (John 15:5). Many of us can recite the phrase, and still quietly suspect that he’s really exaggerating. We know we can do something on our own. And if we won’t admit it, our prayer lives betray us.

The humble are strong precisely because they know how weak they truly are — and how strong God will be for them. They sing, “My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever” (Psalm 73:26). They exhort one another, “Finally, be strong in the Lord and in the strength of his might” (Ephesians 6:10). They serve “by the strength that God supplies — in order that in everything God may be glorified through Jesus Christ” (1 Peter 4:11).

The humble have experienced what Isaiah promised: “He gives power to the faint, and to him who has no might he increases strength. . . . They who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint” (Isaiah 40:29–31). By embracing their weakness, they found vast reservoirs of strength, strength enough to run and even fly.

Weakness Welcomes Strength

The apostle Paul knew how weak he was and where to find true strength. When he pleaded with God to remove the thorn that plagued him, God said, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:9). Why would God, in infinite, fatherly love for Paul, not spare him the pain and inconvenience of this weakness? Because our weakness welcomes the gracious strength and intervention of God.

Weakness welcomes grace. When we feel strong, we are not prone to rely on the grace and strength of God. We often begin to experience, and even enjoy, the delusion that we are strong. We forget God, and our need for him. But when we feel our weakness, we more fully experience reality — and we remember our tremendous, continual need for him. The intensity of our thorns unearths the depths of his grace and mercy. Without them, we would only play in the wading pools of grace, instead of exploring the endless storehouses God fills and keeps for us.

As Paul says earlier in the same letter, “We have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us” (2 Corinthians 4:7). If you look strong in your own strength, very few will wonder how you are so strong. But if people watch you walk through intense or persistent weakness and adversity, with strength and faith and even joy, then God will look unmistakably strong in you. So, to the extent that you are weak, to that extent will you magnify the awesome height of his power and love.

We Have Done Nothing

We often learn to rely on our own strength because we want the recognition and respect of others. We want to be known as strong, not utterly weak; as independent, not deeply dependent; as self-sufficient, not uncomfortably needy. We want to be the achievers and creators, the healers and the heroes. But as J.I. Packer says,

If we think of ourselves or others as achievers, creators, reformers, innovators, movers and shakers, healers, educators, benefactors of society in any way at all, we are at the deepest level kidding ourselves. We have nothing and have never had anything that we have not received, nor have we done anything good apart from God who did it through us. (Praying, 147)

The happiest, strongest, most meaningfully productive people have embraced, and even rejoiced, in that reality: We have done nothing good apart from God who did it through us. “Blessed are those whose strength is in you, in whose heart are the highways to Zion” (Psalm 84:5). They have been liberated from self-sufficiency, and now run, work, create, and serve in the happy fields of their utter dependence on God.

Marshall Segal (@marshallsegal) is a writer and managing editor at desiringGod.org. He’s the author of Not Yet Married: The Pursuit of Joy in Singleness & Dating. He graduated from Bethlehem College & Seminary. He and his wife, Faye, have a son and live in Minneapolis.

Posted at: https://www.desiringgod.org/articles/his-delight-is-not-in-your-strength

How Jesus Addresses Our Anxieties (Part 1 of 3)

by Paul Tautges

“Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life?”

Matthew 6:26-27

In today’s verses, Jesus says that we should not worry about what is not ours to worry about. Instead, we should be more like the birds, which do not doubt the faithfulness of God. When we intentionally “look at the birds,” we remind ourselves of how dependent all creatures are—and especially ourselves. As we wait on the Lord, our responsibility is to actively do what he commands and to leave the rest to him.

Three Comforting Truths

Worry distracts us from enjoying the love of our heavenly Father, but Jesus offers us comforting truths to settle our anxious hearts.

Your heavenly Father feeds his creatures (v. 26). God cares for the things he creates. He takes responsibility for them. Jesus directs us to look at the birds—to consider how their needs are faithfully met. They own no barns and have no ability to store up for the future. Yet God meets their daily needs.

You are more valuable than any non-human creature (v. 27). Jesus also reassures us that we are infinitely more valuable than animals are. Human life possesses fathomless value because man and woman are created in God’s image and likeness. We are designed to reflect God’s glory. This is what gives human beings their worth.

Your heavenly Father has a plan for the span of your life (v. 27). When King David praised God for the wonder-filled way he had created him, he also acknowledged that God would providentially lead him according to his sovereign plan. “In your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there was none of them,” he testified (Ps. 139:16). Since this is true for each of us, worrying about tomorrow will not “add a single hour to [the] span of [our] life.”

God faithfully provides for us. He does this primarily through our work and through our disciplined stewardship of our resources (see Prov. 6:6–11). Nevertheless, even if we are faithful with our responsibilities and resources, we may have needs that remain unmet. If this is the case for us, then we trust God to provide for us in his way and according to his timetable. To fret is to heap fake cares on our large-enough stack of legitimate ones.

For Further Reflection and Application

• Reflect: What are your fake cares? List them, and also review your “care list” from day 1. Are the items you are currently worrying about legitimate cares, or could some be things that you fear might happen?

• Act: If you can’t distinguish between fake and true cares, turn to a wise Christian friend and ask for help.

• Act: Read Psalm 127:2. Compare it to what Jesus teaches about the heavenly Father’s care and provision.

*This devotional is a daily excerpt from the 31-day devotional, ANXIETY: Knowing God’s Peace. Consider working through this devotional yourself or with a friend or two.

Posted at: https://counselingoneanother.com/2020/04/16/how-jesus-addresses-our-anxieity-part-1-of-3/

Come What May

David Mathis

A slow-moving calamity rolled through the ancient world, now more than 2,500 years ago, crawling, at a haunting pace, through one nation after another.

Unlike Pearl Harbor, or a terrorist attack, or a tsunami along the Pacific Rim, this plague caught very few off guard. Every king, every nation, every citizen saw it coming. They heard the reports. They lived under the specter. The world’s greatest city at the time, Nineveh, didn’t fall overnight, but over painful weeks and weeks, even months. Jerusalem came next. Waves of destruction came to the holy city, first in 605 BC, then eight years later in 597, and finally total decimation eleven years later in 586.

What threat paralyzed the world’s great cities not just for hours and days, but for weeks and months, even years? The rising power of Babylon and the slow march of its army from one capital to the next, setting up months-long sieges, and toppling the world’s leading cities as their supply lines ran out and the people began to starve.

And all the more, the coming calamity should have been no surprise to God’s first-covenant people. Even in the middle of the seventh century before Christ, while Assyria was the reigning world power, and Babylon was only slowly on the rise, God’s prophets, like Isaiah, told of the coming disaster decades ahead of time. As did a far less prominent prophet named Habakkuk, who may have an especially striking word for us in our present slow-moving distress.

God Does Not Look on Idly

Unlike any other Hebrew prophet, Habakkuk never turns and speaks directly to the people in his short, three-chapter book. He reports his dialogue with God and God’s surprising work in him, leaving personal application to the reader. The book’s outline is rather simple, as far as Hebrew prophecies go.

First, Habakkuk begins with his seemingly righteous frustrations, perhaps slightly overstated. He asks, “How long, O Lord?” to the rampant wickedness he sees around him, among God’s own people, in an era of spiritual decline (Habakkuk 1:2–4). God responds with a revelation the prophet not at all anticipated (1:5–11). Essentially: Yes, little prophet, my people have become wicked — and I am not looking idly at it. In fact, I am raising up the Babylonians to destroy them.

Habakkuk reels and rocks. He thought he had justice problems before. Now all the more. He responds with a second complaint (1:12–2:1). How can God “idly look at traitors” (Habakkuk 1:13), Babylonians even more wicked than God’s backslidden people? The prophet becomes more defiant: “I will take my stand . . . and look out to see what [God] will say to me, and what I will answer concerning my complaint” (Habakkuk 2:1). He presumes God’s response to his second complaint will not suffice, and he’ll be ready to answer back.

But God’s second response (2:2–20) does silence him. The prophet never registers a third complaint. God will not leave Babylon unpunished. His full justice — his fivefold woe — will be served in his perfect timing. The hand of justice indeed will fall, destroying the prideful and rescuing the righteous who live by faith (Habakkuk 2:4).

How Do We Live by Faith?

The core of the book’s message, from the voice of God to the hearts of his people, is live by faith in unprecedented days, come what may. God doesn’t promise the anxious prophet that soon he’ll make things better. In fact, he promises to make things much worse before they get better. Utter devastation will come first, then deliverance. First total ruin, then final rescue.

To the disoriented, panicked prophet, God exposes the folly of human pride, and issues a fresh call to humility and faith, to patiently receive God’s mysterious “work” of judgment (Habakkuk 1:5; 3:2). To trust the divine in the toughest of times, in days of looming trouble. Here we have God’s timeless call to his people in mysterious times, Habakkuk’s and ours: live by faith (Habakkuk 2:4).

But what does that mean? “Living by faith” can sound so vague and general. What might it mean for us here on the ground, under the present (and coming) threat?

Will We Wait Quietly?

After he has been silenced, Habakkuk speaks again in chapter 3, but now in prayer, not complaint. He has heard and heeded the divine voice and now celebrates God’s unstoppable power and uncompromised justice. The prophet’s prayer concludes with two “Yet I will” statements. First, he says he will exercise patience. The prideful and unbelieving may ride it out with all sorts of panic and noise, but Habakkuk will wait quietly:

Yet I will quietly wait for the day of trouble
     to come upon people who invade us. (Habakkuk 3:16)

His faith in God’s perfect justice has been renewed. He will adjust the clock of his soul to God’s timetable, not presume the converse. God is not standing idly by, of this we can be sure. He is watching. He is attentive. He sees every movement, every detail. In the end, the world will see that he has done right, never treating any creature with injustice.

And as prone as we are, in our finitude and sin and anxiety, to want to force on God our own timetable for resolution, he calls us to quiet patience, even as painfully slow as the present distress may unfold.

Will We Rejoice?

The second and final “Yet I will . . .” comes in verse 18: “Yet I will rejoice in the Lord; I will take joy in the God of my salvation.” And the prophet says so precisely with the worst-case scenarios on the table:

Though the fig tree should not blossom,
     nor fruit be on the vines,
the produce of the olive fail
     and the fields yield no food,
the flock be cut off from the fold
     and there be no herd in the stalls,
yet I will rejoice in the Lord;
     I will take joy in the God of my salvation. (Habakkuk 3:17–18)

In other words, though the supply lines should fail, and the shelves be bare, and the economy tank, and the virus come to our own city, and street, and even home, yet — even then — this newly humbled prophet will rejoice in the Lord. Will we? Not in our supplies. Not in our health. Not in our own security. Not even in the defeat of the enemy. There is one constant, one unassailable surety, one utter security, one haven for true joy in the most challenging of journeys: God himself. He holds himself out to us as he removes our other joys. Will we lean anew into him?

Those puffed up in pride will certainly be destroyed in time, whether sooner or later. But those who welcome God’s humbling hand and bow in faith — in quiet patience and trans-circumstantial joy — will find God himself to be “my strength” in such days (Habakkuk 3:19). So too for us, living by faith in such times will come to expression in patience and joy. But what again might that look like?

Will We Rise in Song?

Among the many ways God may inspire his church in the coming days, we at least have one clue from Habakkuk what such patience and joy sounds like: singing. That’s the stunning and unusual way this short interaction between the prophet and God ends — with the prophet singing praise. That’s why he ends with directions for corporate worship: “To the choirmaster: with stringed instruments.” These final lines are not only a prayer. They are a song for others to join.

There’s not anything else quite like this in all the prophets. Habakkuk begins with as much feistiness and (what seems like) defiance as we find anywhere else. And yet God graciously moves his soul from protest to praise. Which should be an encouragement to those honest enough to admit to finding this pandemic tripping up the feet of our faith so far.

As we’ve seen, Habakkuk didn’t come into the news gracefully. Yet God met him there, in his pride and defiance and fear. The little prophet foolishly took his stand, and God mercifully brought him to his knees. God humbled him, and the prophet received it, humbling himself. He received the disorienting, inconvenient, painful purposes of God in the coming judgment, and he abandoned his protest, bowed in prayer, and rose in praise.

Will we do the same in the lingering confusion and disorientation of the slow-moving uncertainty we’re living in? Will our protests, however justly conceived, lead to bent knees? And will our prayers lead us to sing?

David Mathis (@davidcmathis) is executive editor for desiringGod.org and pastor at Cities Church in Minneapolis/St. Paul. He is a husband, father of four, and author of Habits of Grace: Enjoying Jesus through the Spiritual Disciplines.

Posted at: A slow-moving calamity rolled through the ancient world, now more than 2,500 years ago, crawling, at a haunting pace, through one nation after another.

Unlike Pearl Harbor, or a terrorist attack, or a tsunami along the Pacific Rim, this plague caught very few off guard. Every king, every nation, every citizen saw it coming. They heard the reports. They lived under the specter. The world’s greatest city at the time, Nineveh, didn’t fall overnight, but over painful weeks and weeks, even months. Jerusalem came next. Waves of destruction came to the holy city, first in 605 BC, then eight years later in 597, and finally total decimation eleven years later in 586.

What threat paralyzed the world’s great cities not just for hours and days, but for weeks and months, even years? The rising power of Babylon and the slow march of its army from one capital to the next, setting up months-long sieges, and toppling the world’s leading cities as their supply lines ran out and the people began to starve.

And all the more, the coming calamity should have been no surprise to God’s first-covenant people. Even in the middle of the seventh century before Christ, while Assyria was the reigning world power, and Babylon was only slowly on the rise, God’s prophets, like Isaiah, told of the coming disaster decades ahead of time. As did a far less prominent prophet named Habakkuk, who may have an especially striking word for us in our present slow-moving distress.

God Does Not Look on Idly

Unlike any other Hebrew prophet, Habakkuk never turns and speaks directly to the people in his short, three-chapter book. He reports his dialogue with God and God’s surprising work in him, leaving personal application to the reader. The book’s outline is rather simple, as far as Hebrew prophecies go.

First, Habakkuk begins with his seemingly righteous frustrations, perhaps slightly overstated. He asks, “How long, O Lord?” to the rampant wickedness he sees around him, among God’s own people, in an era of spiritual decline (Habakkuk 1:2–4). God responds with a revelation the prophet not at all anticipated (1:5–11). Essentially: Yes, little prophet, my people have become wicked — and I am not looking idly at it. In fact, I am raising up the Babylonians to destroy them.

Habakkuk reels and rocks. He thought he had justice problems before. Now all the more. He responds with a second complaint (1:12–2:1). How can God “idly look at traitors” (Habakkuk 1:13), Babylonians even more wicked than God’s backslidden people? The prophet becomes more defiant: “I will take my stand . . . and look out to see what [God] will say to me, and what I will answer concerning my complaint” (Habakkuk 2:1). He presumes God’s response to his second complaint will not suffice, and he’ll be ready to answer back.

But God’s second response (2:2–20) does silence him. The prophet never registers a third complaint. God will not leave Babylon unpunished. His full justice — his fivefold woe — will be served in his perfect timing. The hand of justice indeed will fall, destroying the prideful and rescuing the righteous who live by faith (Habakkuk 2:4).

How Do We Live by Faith?

The core of the book’s message, from the voice of God to the hearts of his people, is live by faith in unprecedented days, come what may. God doesn’t promise the anxious prophet that soon he’ll make things better. In fact, he promises to make things much worse before they get better. Utter devastation will come first, then deliverance. First total ruin, then final rescue.

To the disoriented, panicked prophet, God exposes the folly of human pride, and issues a fresh call to humility and faith, to patiently receive God’s mysterious “work” of judgment (Habakkuk 1:5; 3:2). To trust the divine in the toughest of times, in days of looming trouble. Here we have God’s timeless call to his people in mysterious times, Habakkuk’s and ours: live by faith (Habakkuk 2:4).

But what does that mean? “Living by faith” can sound so vague and general. What might it mean for us here on the ground, under the present (and coming) threat?

Will We Wait Quietly?

After he has been silenced, Habakkuk speaks again in chapter 3, but now in prayer, not complaint. He has heard and heeded the divine voice and now celebrates God’s unstoppable power and uncompromised justice. The prophet’s prayer concludes with two “Yet I will” statements. First, he says he will exercise patience. The prideful and unbelieving may ride it out with all sorts of panic and noise, but Habakkuk will wait quietly:

Yet I will quietly wait for the day of trouble
     to come upon people who invade us. (Habakkuk 3:16)

His faith in God’s perfect justice has been renewed. He will adjust the clock of his soul to God’s timetable, not presume the converse. God is not standing idly by, of this we can be sure. He is watching. He is attentive. He sees every movement, every detail. In the end, the world will see that he has done right, never treating any creature with injustice.

And as prone as we are, in our finitude and sin and anxiety, to want to force on God our own timetable for resolution, he calls us to quiet patience, even as painfully slow as the present distress may unfold.

Will We Rejoice?

The second and final “Yet I will . . .” comes in verse 18: “Yet I will rejoice in the Lord; I will take joy in the God of my salvation.” And the prophet says so precisely with the worst-case scenarios on the table:

Though the fig tree should not blossom,
     nor fruit be on the vines,
the produce of the olive fail
     and the fields yield no food,
the flock be cut off from the fold
     and there be no herd in the stalls,
yet I will rejoice in the Lord;
     I will take joy in the God of my salvation. (Habakkuk 3:17–18)

In other words, though the supply lines should fail, and the shelves be bare, and the economy tank, and the virus come to our own city, and street, and even home, yet — even then — this newly humbled prophet will rejoice in the Lord. Will we? Not in our supplies. Not in our health. Not in our own security. Not even in the defeat of the enemy. There is one constant, one unassailable surety, one utter security, one haven for true joy in the most challenging of journeys: God himself. He holds himself out to us as he removes our other joys. Will we lean anew into him?

Those puffed up in pride will certainly be destroyed in time, whether sooner or later. But those who welcome God’s humbling hand and bow in faith — in quiet patience and trans-circumstantial joy — will find God himself to be “my strength” in such days (Habakkuk 3:19). So too for us, living by faith in such times will come to expression in patience and joy. But what again might that look like?

Will We Rise in Song?

Among the many ways God may inspire his church in the coming days, we at least have one clue from Habakkuk what such patience and joy sounds like: singing. That’s the stunning and unusual way this short interaction between the prophet and God ends — with the prophet singing praise. That’s why he ends with directions for corporate worship: “To the choirmaster: with stringed instruments.” These final lines are not only a prayer. They are a song for others to join.

There’s not anything else quite like this in all the prophets. Habakkuk begins with as much feistiness and (what seems like) defiance as we find anywhere else. And yet God graciously moves his soul from protest to praise. Which should be an encouragement to those honest enough to admit to finding this pandemic tripping up the feet of our faith so far.

As we’ve seen, Habakkuk didn’t come into the news gracefully. Yet God met him there, in his pride and defiance and fear. The little prophet foolishly took his stand, and God mercifully brought him to his knees. God humbled him, and the prophet received it, humbling himself. He received the disorienting, inconvenient, painful purposes of God in the coming judgment, and he abandoned his protest, bowed in prayer, and rose in praise.

Will we do the same in the lingering confusion and disorientation of the slow-moving uncertainty we’re living in? Will our protests, however justly conceived, lead to bent knees? And will our prayers lead us to sing?

David Mathis (@davidcmathis) is executive editor for desiringGod.org and pastor at Cities Church in Minneapolis/St. Paul. He is a husband, father of four, and author of Habits of Grace: Enjoying Jesus through the Spiritual Disciplines.

Posted at: https://www.desiringgod.org/articles/come-what-may?utm_source=facebook&utm_medium=3d5aed12-b135-4144-9fb6-5e111c5e4906&utm_content=article&utm_campaign=new+teaching&fbclid=IwAR0q8qBa0e7tqQfoorREPuDrytVh-Mz_ZzidflHonY1U7auwzzHVE_s-VGI

My Joy Rose as Sorrows Fell

Vaneetha Risner

I used to have a great life. I went on exciting vacations, cooked gourmet meals for my family, and painted everything from dishes to canvas. Sure, I had limitations from my childhood polio, but I was able to do whatever I wanted. Slowly, however, all that changed. Today I use a wheelchair to go where I once walked. I admire art I once created. I need assistance when I once only offered it. My world has grown smaller.

Decades ago, the words from 2 Corinthians 6:10, “sorrowful, yet always rejoicing,” seemed admirable in theory but impossible in practice. I couldn’t imagine joy and sorrow even coexisting; by definition, having one meant the absence of the other. The only way I could have imagined rejoicing when I was sorrowful was if my temporary sorrow were to be displaced by swift, miraculous deliverance. Then I could rejoice, while everyone marveled at my faith and God’s goodness.

My Unexpected Sorrows

So, when I was unexpectedly diagnosed with post-polio syndrome sixteen years ago, I couldn’t see how I could find joy apart from healing. The doctors said there was no cure for my condition, and I would live with continual loss. To slow down the progression, they advised me to reduce life to a bare minimum and stop overusing my arms. As a wife and mother of young children, I was forced to make difficult choices daily, and new losses cropped up every month. It felt relentless. Honestly, it still does.

Today I can’t even make my own coffee, much less carry it to the table. I deal with ongoing pain that will only intensify. While this may sound depressing, it has surprisingly made me more joyful. I’ve learned to stop fixating on my circumstances and start rejoicing in the God who has drawn closer to me through them.

How I Still Rejoice

As my body weakens, God has become more real and present than ever. I can echo the words of Psalm 46:1, that God is my “refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.” In all my trials, the Lord has never failed me, never left my side, never let me go.

“As my body weakens, God has become more real and present than ever.”

The Bible has become more precious to me because God’s assurances of comfort, strength, and deliverance are no longer simply words I’ve memorized; now they are promises that sustain me. Because I have to depend on God for even the smallest tasks, I must constantly look to him. It is a conscious decision to stop focusing on what’s around me and start focusing on God. It’s a choice I must make all day, every day.

As I have walked with God through the valley of the shadow of death, I have learned three great lessons for being “sorrowful, yet always rejoicing.”

1. Weep

Before I can rejoice, I need to lament. This step is critical because it is only through acknowledging and grieving my pain that I’ve experienced God’s presence and comfort. Without this step, my words may sound spiritual and even eloquent, but they are disconnected from my life — I’m left feeling empty and alone.

I used to think it was wrong to lament. I would pretend my pain didn’t bother me, silently pulling away from God while outwardly praising him. I didn’t know how else to handle being “sorrowful, yet always rejoicing.” Since then, I’ve learned that God understands our lament. The Bible has given me words to use — God, in his kindness, shows us how to be real with him.

In the Bible, David (Psalm 69:1–3), the apostle Paul (2 Corinthians 12:7–9), and even Jesus himself (Mark 14:36) all asked God to take away their suffering, so I boldly ask God for deliverance as well. God doesn’t expect me to stoically approach pain, pretending it doesn’t hurt, but rather invites me to cry out to him and tell him what I long for. It is in this authentic, intimate conversation with God that he changes me. I tell him when I feel abandoned. I ask him for renewed strength. I beg for a reprieve from pain.

David begins Psalm 13 by saying, “How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me?” (Psalm 13:1), and yet he ends a few verses later by saying, “But I have trusted in your steadfast love; my heart shall rejoice in your salvation” (Psalm 13:5). What caused his new outlook? How could he go from questioning God one moment to rejoicing the next? For me, just as for David, this shift happens when I talk directly to God, expecting him to answer.

“In suffering, I often see God most clearly, perhaps because I am more desperate to find him.”

When I follow David’s example, my perspective changes as David’s did. My circumstances may be unchanged, but what’s happening around me is no longer my focus. Something inside me shifts as I read God’s words and pour out my unedited thoughts to him. God himself meets me, comforting and reviving me. One moment I am overwhelmed by the pain in my life, and the next moment I have renewed hope and perspective. Countless times, I have prayed Psalm 119:25, “My soul clings to the dust; give me life according to your word!” And God has done just that.

2. Look for Him

In sorrow I have learned the joy of God’s presence. God is always with us and there is nowhere we can flee from him, but there are times I am more aware of him. In suffering, I often see God most clearly, perhaps because I am more desperate to find him. As Hosea 6:3 says, “Let us press on to know the Lord; his going out is sure as the dawn; he will come to us as the showers, as the spring rains that water the earth.”

God comes to us as we look for him. I can echo David’s proclamations in the Psalms — I have found fullness of joy in God’s presence, and I’ve tasted and seen God’s goodness firsthand. This kind of joy is in God alone who comforts me, strengthens me, and assures me that he will never leave me.

3. Trust His Design

I have joy knowing there is a purpose to my suffering. My suffering was designed by God for my good — not to punish me but to bless me. Though I may not readily see or understand what God is doing, I know God is transforming me through my trials. My suffering has produced a resilient joy — one that leads to endurance, character, and hope (Romans 5:3–5). The things of this world are less appealing, and the things of God are far more precious.

After living through my worst nightmares, I have less fear of the future and more joy in the present. I am confident that God will be with me, even through the valley of the shadow of death, and I know he is working all things for my good. Being “sorrowful, yet always rejoicing” doesn’t mean we need to rejoice about our suffering, but that we can rejoice even in the midst of our suffering.

Yes, I used to have a great life, but now my life is even better. My sorrow has produced an overflowing joy that can never be taken away.

Vaneetha Rendall Risner is a freelance writer and regular contributor to Desiring God, who blogs at danceintherain.com. She is married to Joel and has two daughters, Katie and Kristi. She and Joel live in Raleigh, North Carolina. Vaneetha is the author of the book The Scars That Have Shaped Me: How God Meets Us in Suffering.

Posted at: https://www.desiringgod.org/articles/my-joy-rose-as-sorrows-fell

Talk Back To Your Anxiety

Paul Tautges

Trust in the Lord, and do good; dwell in the land and befriend faithfulness. Delight yourself in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart.

Psalm 37:3-4

Emotions can go wrong in times of grief. This is the case with anger, but it’s often the case with anxiety, too. With loss comes unwelcome changes and also the feel­ing that life is unpredictable and unsafe. All of that is the perfect breeding ground for anxiety. Yet, David’s self-counsel wisely guides us through life’s challenges.

In Psalm 37, we see how David repeatedly talks back to his anxious heart. Three times he tells himself, “fret not yourself ” (vv. 1, 7, 8). But he doesn’t stop there. He doesn’t merely say, “Stop worrying!” He also fights against anxiety by entrusting himself to the Lord and each day gripping tightly to the Lord’s promise of a future that is secure in him (vv. 3, 5, 9, 11). He exchanges his anxiety for trust.

Entrust your way to the Lord. Anxiety de­mands the full understanding of your suffering now, but God is worthy of your trust because of who he is now and forever—our faithful and powerful God. So David fights his anxiety by repeating truths about God and his relationship with him that build upon each other: “Trust in the Lord, and do good” (v. 3); “Delight your­self in the Lord” (v. 4); “Commit your way to the Lord; trust in him, and he will act” (v. 5); “Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for him” (v. 7). You can be assured that God is wise and that his plan for you is good.

Be faithful one day at a time. Anxiety pulls your focus away from what is most important today by enlarging tomorrow’s unknowns. David fights back by instructing himself to concentrate on his chief responsibility, that is, to “dwell in the land and befriend faithfulness” (v. 3). Jesus gave the same counsel in Matthew 6:33, by directing us to “seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things [the cares of life that you tend to worry about] will be added to you.” Your heavenly Father knows your needs, and will meet them (Matthew 6:25–32). Reminding yourself of these truths will enable you to make daily faithfulness your lifelong companion.

Delight in the Lord by holding tightly to his promises. Anxiety chains you to the here-and-now by distracting you from all the good that the Lord has promised to those who love him. So David disciplines himself to instead take a long-term view on life. God will never “forsake his saints” (v. 28). Believers possess a heritage that “will remain forever” (v. 18). “The Lord upholds the righteous” (v. 17). Even when you suffer harm, he “upholds [your] hand” because your steps “are established by the Lord” (v. 23). As you “delight yourself in the Lord,” he will give you your heart’s desires, since you will de­sire the right things (v. 4).

Psalm 37 teaches us that the solution to both anger and anxiety is trusting faith in the Lord. No matter how much suffering you may endure on this earth, as a Christian, you have an eternity of blessing awaiting you.

Posted at: http://counselingoneanother.com/2019/10/11/talk-back-to-your-anxiety/