Walk in His Providence : How God Opens Doors for You

Article by Scott Hubbard

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

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

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

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

Waiting for an Open Door

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

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

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

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

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

For Such a Time as This

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

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

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

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

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

Act the Providence of God

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

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

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

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

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

Imagine Good

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

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

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

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

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

Would It Be Okay For Me To Be Angry With God?

By Tim Challies

It felt like a test—a test of my faith, a test of my convictions, a test of my love for God. Soon, very soon, after I learned that my son had died, I received a message from an old acquaintance. Her intentions were good—she wanted to offer consolation. But her instructions were suspect—she wanted me to rage against God. Paraphrasing one of her favorite authors she said “It’s okay to be angry with God about this. It’s okay to tell him exactly how you feel about him right now. Let him have it. He doesn’t mind.”

My instincts rebelled against her counsel, but for just a moment I wondered. I didn’t feel anger in my loss, but should I? I didn’t resent God’s sovereignty in taking my son, but might that be appropriate? Already I was leaning hard on God for comfort, but should I now also press against him for blame? In that very moment a verse of scripture, a mere fragment, flashed into my mind. “Curse God and die.” In this case it was not a human demanding it of another as Job’s wife did of her husband. Rather, it was the Holy Spirit’s reminder of what it would mean for me to raise my fist to the sky.

That moment was a test of my faith. Haven’t we all wondered whether our faith would be able to withstand a staggering blow like the sudden, unexplained death of a child? I certainly had. In that moment I had to choose whether my faith would push me toward God or away from him. I had to make a choice between submission and rebellion.

That moment was a test of my convictions. I have often proclaimed the glories of God’s goodness and sovereignty, yet this has been easy because they’ve so constantly been aligned with my own desires. In that moment I had to choose whether I would continue to proclaim in the dark what I had celebrated in the light, or whether, instead, I would allow my circumstances to overturn my beliefs. I had to choose whether these doctrines would draw me to God in comfort or alienate me in anger.

That moment was a test of my love. I have so often proclaimed my love for God, but now he had taken my child, my firstborn, my son, my protégé, the man in all the world who was most precious to me. In that moment I had to choose whether I would love God through this or rage against him, whether it would turn my affections ever-more toward him, or whether it would steer them away.

That moment was a test, I’m sure of it. For though there is a thread of teaching in the Christian world that says it is a sign of maturity and authenticity to be angry with God, I am unconvinced. In fact, I’m sure the opposite is true—that there would never be an appropriate time for me to be angry with God or at God. Why? Because, ultimately, to be angry at what God does is to be angry at who God is. To be angry with his actions is to be angry with his person. It’s to doubt that his actions were just, that they were wise, that they were right, that they were good. It’s to cast aspersions on his very character.

That’s not to say we can never be angry. It’s not to say we must be completely impassive in the face of grief, sorrow, and suffering. On this note John Piper helpfully distinguishes between anger at a thing and anger at a person: “Anger at a thing does not contain indignation at a choice or an act. We simply don’t like the effect of the thing: the broken clutch, or the grain of sand that just blew in our eye, or rain on our picnic. But when we get angry at a person, we are displeased with a choice they made and an act they performed. Anger at a person always implies strong disapproval. If you are angry at me, you think I have done something I should not have done.”

And who am I to be angry at what God has done? Who am I to disapprove of what he has permitted? Who am I to conclude God has done something he should not have, or to even suggest the notion? I might be angry at what I do, or what you do, or what John Piper does, but all of us are sinful, all of us are foolish, all of us are wrongheaded, all of us make mistakes, all of us sometimes bring harm even when we attempt to do good. We might very well have done something we ought not to have done. But not God. He only ever does what is right and what is good. He only ever permits what is best. He is so for us that no action he takes would ever ultimately be against us.

Little wonder, then, that, after Job’s wife encouraged her husband to curse God and die, he gently corrected her. He warned her that in her grief (for she, too, had suffered terrible loss) she was speaking words that were suitable only for the mouth of a fool. Then he asked rhetorically, faithfully, wonderfully, “Shall we receive good from God, and shall we not receive evil?” Then follows this affirmation of his tremendous faith: “In all this Job did not sin with his lips.”

Comfort comes not from anger at the divine will, but acquiescence to it.

Job knew that consolation does not come by raging against God, but by submitting to him. Comfort comes not from anger at the divine will, but acquiescence to it. J.R. Miller says it sweetly: “[God] has a right to take from us what he will, for all our joys and treasures belong to Him and are only lent to us for a time. It was in love that He gave them to us; it is in love that He takes them away. When we cease our struggle, and in faith and confidence submit our will to His, peace flows into our heart and we are comforted.” Comfort comes when we align our will with the will of God. Peace flows when we bless him in our grief as we did in our joys. For his love is as constant, his character is as perfect, his actions are as irreproachable in the taking as they were in the giving.

Posted at: https://www.challies.com/articles/would-it-be-okay-for-me-to-be-angry-with-god/

Remembering God’s Faithfulness in the Face of a Detour

by Dave Harvey

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dave Harvey

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

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

Fearless Even in Illness : Lessons for the Hospital

Article by Kathryn Butler

Over a year ago, my kids and I visited our friend in the hospital during one of his many emphysema flares. He’d suffered a long, complicated course, bouncing back and forth for months between a rehabilitation center and a hospital, without stabilizing long enough to ever return home. Before long, an oxygen tank was his constant companion, and he could no longer sing the hymns that had once uplifted him in times of trouble.

My kids were accustomed to such visits, and clambered next to our friend to scribble in coloring books while we talked. As they snuggled up beside him, he didn’t chuckle or embrace them as usual. When I asked him his thoughts, his eyes stirred with unease.

“I don’t understand what God is doing,” he finally answered, referring to his worsening illness. Then, in a quavering voice, he said, “I’m scared.”

Epicenter of Fear

My friend’s experience wasn’t unusual. Fear preys upon the minds and hearts of all who walk through the sliding doors of a hospital. Some of us careen in on stretchers, fearing for our lives as clinicians flock around us to stem a gush of blood or a haywire heartbeat. Others struggle to quiet our pounding hearts as we await a surgery or a biopsy result. Still more wring our hands in waiting rooms, where we fear the loss of a life interwoven with our own.

Whatever the circumstances, illness can stir up fears we never knew we harbored. Although medication can dull our pain, and therapies can slow cancer in its march, no pat answers can sponge away such fears. The wounds course too deep, and the nightmares linger too long after we’ve awoken from anesthesia.

And yet, we have hope, even in the hospital.

“God remains sovereign over all the needles and the pathology reports, the bad prognoses and the statistics.”TweetShare on Facebook

God remains sovereign over all the needles and the pathology reports, the bad prognoses and the statistics. His love and faithfulness are everlasting, unchanging, and wholly independent of the conditions listed in our medical charts. Christ, “the founder and perfecter of our faith” (Hebrews 12:2), gave his life to save us from the darkest of fears. How do we cling to this truth when anxiety seizes us in the hospital? As one who has walked alongside the sick both as a clinician and as a friend, here are three truths to consider.

Peace for Every Moment

First, we can give our fears to God. Turmoil that flutters in the pit of the stomach can prompt us to turn to God in prayer. The Bible doesn’t promise us freedom from tribulation, but it does promise that the Lord will hear when we pray to him (Luke 11:11–13). David sings, “I sought the Lord, and he answered me and delivered me from all my fears” (Psalm 34:4). Paul guides us to “pray without ceasing” (1 Thessalonians 5:16–18), and Peter encourages us to cast our anxieties on God, because he cares for us (1 Peter 5:6–7).

Praying without ceasing doesn’t mean God will give us what we want. His ways are higher than ours (Isaiah 55:8–9), and God works all things for our good, even in the face of suffering (Genesis 50:20; Romans 8:28; 2 Corinthians 12:8–9). And yet, when we prayerfully turn our fears over to the Lord, he gilds us in the peace of Christ. As Paul elegantly reminds us in his letter to the Philippians,

Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. (Philippians 4:6–7)

When you shudder at the blip of a hospital monitor, and wrestle with worries in the sterile night, give your fears to God. In Christ, he will cover you with peace to endure.

With Us in the Shadow

Second, we can remember that God is with us. The Psalms beautifully express how God, “abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness” (Exodus 34:6), delivers us from our fears:

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. (Psalm 23:4)

The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? The Lord is the stronghold of my life; of whom shall I be afraid? (Psalm 27:1)

God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear though the earth gives way, though the mountains be moved into the heart of the sea, though its waters roar and foam, though the mountains tremble at its swelling. (Psalm 46:1–3)

During the exodus, God led his people through the wilderness day and night, never departing from them (Exodus 13:22). So also does God remain with us, through the Holy Spirit who sanctifies us. Jesus — our light, our salvation, our stronghold — promises to be with us, not only during the biopsies, and not only in our pain, but “always, to the end of the age” (Matthew 28:20).

Blood That Abolishes Fear

Finally, we can meditate on all that God promised us. Jesus advised his disciples against anxiety, pointing out that life consists of more than earthly details, that the Father will provide for his own, and that those who follow Christ are heirs to incomparable riches in the kingdom. “If God so clothes the grass, which is alive in the field today, and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, how much more will he clothe you, O you of little faith!’” he taught during the Sermon on the Mount (Luke 12:28). “Fear not, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom” (Luke 12:32).

“Our Father abolishes our fears through the redeeming blood of his Son.”TweetShare on Facebook

The Father gives us the kingdom, and thus abolishes our fears, through the redeeming blood of the Son. He embraces us as his own children, drawing us near when nightmares jolt us from repose: “See what kind of love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God; and so we are” (1 John 3:1). Our hope is in the Lord (Psalm 121:1–2) and, in Christ, nothing can wrench us from his love (Romans 8:38–39).

This truth — that our light, our stronghold, our refuge and strength dwells with us, and has already saved us — guts the fears that haunt us in the hospital corridors. We have a truth that no prognosis can sully. No pain can dim its light. No disease can diminish its power.

Kathryn Butler is a trauma and critical care surgeon turned writer and homeschooling mom. She is author of Between Life and Death: A Gospel-Centered Guide to End-of-Life Medical Care. She lives north of Boston, and writes at Oceans Rise.

Posted at: https://www.desiringgod.org/articles/fearless-even-in-illness

Help! I Feel Like a Failure

GREG PHELAN

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

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

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

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

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

Our Failure Isn’t God’s Failure

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

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

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

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

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

Grace in Humility

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

God's Sovereignty in 2020

By Steve Hill

Dr. Kenneth Meyer tells about flying into Chicago’s O’Hare Airport on a certain occasion. As the big plane passed over the expressway, Meyer noticed a colossal traffic jam. He also saw that many people were getting out of their cars. Some were standing on their bumpers, straining to see what was going on. As Dr. Meyer glanced northward, he saw what they could not possibly see—the telltale flash of red lights. Meyer knew the problem would be taken care of quickly, so after the plane landed at O’Hare and he proceeded towards his car, he had a completely different perspective from the average traveler on the expressway. He knew he would soon be home. Perspective makes all the difference. We are earthbound creatures, but if we could somehow look down upon the traffic jams in our lives, we would react much differently.

That is precisely the case in the story of the young shepherd David and the armies of Israel as they stood before Goliath. They had fled from Goliath in great fear, but David calmly stood there and said, “Who is this uncircumcised Philistine that he should defy the armies of the living God?” (1 Samuel 17:26). Before the day was over, with his sling whirling overhead, David was running full blast at that great giant. You know the rest of the story. David let go, and the stone hit Goliath right between the running lights. Israel prevailed that day. The difference was one of perspective. The Israelites saw everything from ground level. David had the divine perspective.

This era of COVID-19 induced hysteria and uncertainty is unlike anything I have ever experienced in my 68 years of life on this earth. I’d like to encourage you with some words of hope to navigate these turbulent times. 

1. Cling to the doctrine of the sovereignty of God.  God is always, eternally on His throne.  Our Lord has not been napping during this era.  He has allowed it to give us opportunity to be tested and to be built up into the fullness of the image of Christ.  Take a moment to read Psalm 139:1-6.  God intimately is familiar with each of us and our individual peculiarities.  God cannot be fooled by us.  He knows us inside out.  After all, He made us in His image.  The psalmist says that his knowledge is “too wonderful for me; it is high; I cannot attain it.”  Heath Lambert tells us that we must “…get to know a Person whose goodness, trustworthiness, love, mercy, grace, and patience are inexhaustible.”  He is “infinite in perfection.” 

2. Commit yourself to daily renewal and dedication to His loving authority over your life.  If God is all-knowing and all-wise, he is worthy of our complete trust.  It is important that we believe this in the deepest part of our being before a crisis hits.  And a crisis will eventually come.  I have observed so many individuals, couples, and families who were much too casual with God.  When crisis entered their lives they were unprepared for it because they were unfamiliar with the Lord on a personal level.  This is why the gospel is so important and why we should take Milton Vincent’s charge to preach the gospel to ourselves every day!

3. Consider how to encourage the weak among us in this era of the coronavirus.   Paul wrote this helpful verse in Romans 15:4:  “For whatever was written in former days was written for our instruction, that through endurance and through the encouragement of the Scriptures we might have hope.”  Continue your faithful reading in God’s Word for that is where you will find comfort and solace.  Limit the amount of time you watch television, especially the news.  It can be a real downer.  Find ways to help your neighbors, especially the elderly, single moms and widows.  You will find great reward in helping others.

Like the old hymn said:  Trust and obey, for there’s no other way to be happy in Jesus but to trust and obey!

Author: Steve Hill is the pastor of Senior Saints at Canyon Hills Community Church.

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

Paul Tautges

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

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

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

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

Three Sweeping Truths

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nine Steps to Absolute Sovereignty

John Piper

(John Piper was asked ‘Can Jesus calm any storm just because He calmed a storm while He was here on earth?” Here is PIper’s response.)

I have at least nine premises to get to the conclusion that Jesus today rules over all storms, everywhere, at all time. Yes, I do believe that. I believe the Bible teaches that. Let me give you my nine premises.

1. Jesus is the Son of God.

When the disciples saw Jesus still the storm, the conclusion they drew was not simply that this particular miracle was an isolated event from a random Jewish teacher. They drew the conclusion that this was a particular kind of person. They saw his power as general, not specific. They said, “What sort of man is this, that even winds [not wind, but winds] and sea obey him?” (Matthew 8:27). The answer in Matthew’s context, the answer to their question that Matthew wants us to draw — so, this is a teaching of the Bible — is this: he’s the Son of God. That’s who he is. That is the sort of man he is.

So, rightly understood, the stilling of the storm is a revelation of who he is, and therefore it’s general. That sort of man doesn’t just luck out in this scenario, like, “Whoa, look at that. It actually works.” He doesn’t just luck out sometimes in his ability to see and still storms. It’s a general statement: the winds and the sea, in general — that’s the kind of man he is — obey him. That’s my first premise: the Son of God is the sort of person who can do this.

2. Jesus is unchanging.

Hebrews 13:8: “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever.” He has the same power in 2020 that he had in the first century. He is still that sort of person.

3. God oversees even what seems insignificant.

This same Jesus said to his disciples, “Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? And not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father” (Matthew 10:29). I’m assuming that Jesus acts in concert with his Father here. They’re not at odds with each other, like “Oh, the Father can govern the fall of sparrows, but Jesus, he can’t. He’s out of step with that; he can’t do that. Only the Father can do that.”

“What happens ‘in the seas and all deeps’ is owing to ‘whatever the Lord pleases.’”TweetShare on Facebook

What the Father does, the Son does, Jesus says (John 5:19). And he says that the Father oversees, governs, the fall of every sparrow — which is an illustration of the most insignificant event Jesus could come up with at the time, I think. Like ripples on the sea. Jesus could’ve said, “Not one ripple happens in the sea apart from your Father,” instead of “Not one sparrow falls to the ground.”

If someone says, “This only means God watches the sparrows fall, but doesn’t govern it,” I would say that in the context of comforting the disciples as they are being killed — that’s the context: “They’re going to kill your body; don’t worry; I’ve got you” (Matthew 10:16–28) — in the context of being killed, that is zero comfort. “Oh, my God watches, but he can’t do anything. My God is inactive. He’s powerless.” I don’t think so. That’s not what’s going on here. This is not just saying, “Hey, God watches while you get killed. He can’t do anything, but he just watches. Take heart.” I don’t think that’s what Jesus meant at all in the context of Matthew 10.

4. Jesus Christ upholds everything.

Paul says that the reigning Jesus, who is the same forever and ever, holds everything together (Colossians 1:17). Hebrews 1:3 says, “He upholds the universe by the word of his power.” The world is not like a clock that Jesus wound up, set to running, and then watches from a distance, and has no involvement in it. Psalm 147:8 says, “He prepares rain for the earth; he makes grass grow on the hills.”

Jesus is holding every wave and all the wind in being. He’s holding it in being. He’s got the whole world in his hands. It seems highly unlikely to me that he would be holding a tsunami in being as it rolls over a village, but that he has no plan for it as it rolls over the village. He’s got it totally in his hand, holding it in being. He could flatten the tsunami at any moment because he holds it in being. “I don’t know what I’m doing.” There’s no way. That is not the way God thinks.

5. God’s will always comes to pass.

Paul says in Ephesians 1:11 that God “works all things according to the counsel of his will.” Not some things — all things. His will — not our will.

6. God does what he pleases everywhere.

Psalm 135:6 says, “Whatever the Lord pleases, he does, in heaven and on earth, in the seas and all deeps” — which is where earthquakes happen that cause tsunamis. When it says “in the seas and all deeps,” this is not a limited statement. It says that what happens “in the seas and all deeps” is owing to “whatever the Lord pleases.”

7. God gives and takes.

When anyone dies in a tornado or hurricane or tsunami, this is not an exception to the reality described by the writer of Job and James when they said, “The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away” (Job 1:21), and “You ought to say, ‘If the Lord wills, we will live and do this or that’” (James 4:15). We will survive this tsunami or we won’t. We will live and do this or that — if the Lord wills. Life and death are, finally, in the hand of the Lord. The natural causes of death are in the hand of the Lord, like wind and waves.

8. God is never capricious.

If we believe the Bible, and if we believe the Bible teaches the foreknowledge of God (which I do), then when he foresees a tsunami heading for a village or a virus heading for a pandemic, and he permits all that he sees, then this permitted act is part of his plan, since he could have stopped it. He doesn’t make such choices to permit or to stop whimsically or aimlessly. He is infinitely wise. He makes such choices to permit or not to permit wisely — that is, according to the counsel of his will.

9. The Bible plainly and pervasively teaches God’s absolute sovereignty.

I have texts for all these, but I won’t read them. The sovereignty of God in the Bible over all things is pervasive and all-encompassing. You don’t have to logically infer it; it’s just everywhere. It says he governs

• the wind,

• lightning,

• snow,

• frogs,

• gnats,

• flies,

• locusts,

• quail,

• worms,

• fish,

• sparrows,

• grass,

• plants,

• famine,

• the sun,

• prison doors,

• blindness,

• deafness,

• paralysis,

• fever,

• every disease,

• travel plans,

• the hearts of kings,

• nations,

• murderers,

• spiritual deadness,

• and on and on.

And they all obey his sovereign will. My confidence that Jesus rules all waves and all seas is not based on his stilling one storm, but on his being the Son of God, who is God, and who Scripture teaches works all things according to the counsel of his will.

Posted at: https://www.desiringgod.org/interviews/does-christ-govern-every-storm?utm_source=facebook&utm_medium=18d667e1-6bec-4408-94bf-14999d2ecacb&utm_content=apj&utm_campaign=new+teaching&fbclid=IwAR0XYQRL0eC_DDsqw2TuSV0UFqUKY0DV8K1r-kEss39ahQ7G6kjG2uJrr3U

An Encouraging Statistic About Death

Paul Tripp

Here’s a mind-boggling figure: scientists estimate that in the United States alone, 13.7 million birds die every day.

It’s a seemingly random and rather unpleasant statistic, but when I came across it, my heart was deeply encouraged.

“Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? And not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your father.” (Matthew 10:29, ESV)

There are hundreds of billions of birds in existence around the world today. Almost all of them have no monetary value whatsoever. Apart from a handful of endangered or noteworthy birds, we don’t track these creatures, name them, care about them, or know them.

But their Creator does. He is in control over every aspect of their life: their birth; the color and quantity of their feathers; their nest; their breeding; their migration; and ultimately, the time, location, and manner in which they die.

Think of all the technology, human resources, and coordination that is required for us to track the relatively few planes that are in the sky every day. God is in complete control over the flight paths of every single one of these hundreds of billions of birds.

This reality alone should be unbelievably reassuring. No matter how it looks at street level, your world is not out of control; no, it is under the careful administration of the Creator who has the wisdom and power to be the great Author of it all.

But that’s not enough; Jesus takes the comforting illustration even further: “But even the hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear not, therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows.” (Matthew 10:30-31)

By grace, you are now the adopted child of the One who has this immeasurable control. As his son or daughter, you are far more valuable than any bird. This means your heavenly Father exercises intimate, personal, and specific control over your life for his glory and your good.

Discovering peace in difficult times is never accomplished by measuring the size of your strength and wisdom against the size of your trouble. No, rest is found when you compare the size of what you’re facing against the Creator of the heavens and earth. By grace, he is your father wherever you go.

Whatever you are facing today, meditate on Matthew 10:29-31. Ask God to remind you of his power, presence, and promises. And then get up and live, with courage and hope, in light of this truth!

Here’s a poetic meditation that I wrote in light of the coronavirus, Matthew 10, and this past Easter weekend.

It swept us up,
unseen
unexpected
unwanted,
disease
destruction
death
in its path.
Confused and separated,
we try to analyze
what we don’t understand,
try to conquer
what is bigger than us.
Fear sets in,
denial offers temporary
peace,
numbers rumble upward,
hope weakens.
Then we remember,
this isn’t the
worst,
this isn’t the
biggest,
this isn’t the most
fearsome.
There is another disease,
most don’t see it,
most deny it,
no human can defeat it,
everyone is infected with it.
There would be no
cure
if not for the Savior,
willing to come,
face the ultimate plague,
die alone,
broken
weak
forsaken,
so that there would be a
cure,
ours for the taking,
no money needed,
no line to stand in,
bring only one thing,
a heart ready to
believe.
Receive your healing,
rise, live again.

God bless,

Reflection Questions

1. Are you potentially spending an unhealthy amount of time or emotional energy analyzing the statistics of the current pandemic? What might this do to your spiritual meditation?

2. What are some other statistics or illustrations that you have heard or studied recently? (They could be related to anything) How can you interpret them in light of God’s Word and apply them to your life?

3. How has your lack of power and control been exposed in the past few weeks? Be detailed. How have you responded to that loss?

4. Have you been pondering death more often in light of everything surrounding you? What have you been thinking, or how have you been feeling?

5. Apply Matthew 10:29-31 to your current situation and relationships. How does this illustration address what you are facing? How does it comfort and challenge you?

Posted at: https://www.paultripp.com/wednesdays-word/posts/an-encouraging-statistic-about-death

When You Fear Not Being in Control

BY KRISTEN WETHERELL

Households across the world are aglow from screens delivering coronavirus updates. They’re also replete with fear. 

Leslie worries about her aging husband, whose health has been in slow decline since he turned 65. Tom knows he has no control over his pregnant wife’s health (or their baby’s) and goes to sleep nervous every night. Jessica is scared about her kids’ safety when they have to run to the grocery store, and Ron fears contracting the disease when he goes to work at the nursing home. Brittany can’t seem to control her anxiety over the virus, but it comes on full force at random moments, and she fears the next unexpected attack.

Then there are fears surrounding policies and quarantines, as people anxiously await the choices their leaders will make, choices that are out of their hands. And there’s the fear of tragedy, the worst-case scenario coming to pass, as sudden harm visits our family members—even us.

As finite creatures living in a world affected by sin, we fear anything out of our control.

Why We Fear Being Out of Control

To get to the root of this universal fear, we must start at the beginning. In the garden, sin corrupted our fear of the Lord, turning awe of God into terror before him; worship of God into idolatry of created things; and reverence into rebellion against him. Now, our human predicament is dire: We’ve rebelled against the only One who’s in control, crowned ourselves as little sovereigns, and discovered we’re terribly inadequate for the task. 

As finite creatures living in a world affected by sin, we fear anything out of our control.

We fear what we can’t control because we’ve tried to control it, but can’t because we aren’t God.

In the Old Testament, we read of the Israelites repeatedly falling prey to this uneasy attempt at self-sovereignty as they take refuge from their enemies in other nations and in idols. In Isaiah 46, Israel has been exiled to Babylon, and God rebukes the Israelites for their worship of false deities: 

To whom will you liken me and make me equal,

and compare me, that we may be alike?

Those who lavish gold from the purse,

and weigh out silver in the scales,

hire a goldsmith, and he makes it into a god;

then they fall down and worship! . . . 

If one cries to it, it does not answer

or save him from his trouble. (Isa. 46:5–7, italics added)

God describes Babylon’s idols as dead and worthless substitutes for him, mere inanimate objects that are unable to save the Israelites. We may think, Who in their right mind would think a statue could help them? But we’re more like Babylon than we’d like to admit.

We may not craft gold and silver into gods, but we do try to control our money for stability and power. We tremble in fear when the stock market crashes.

We may not fall down and worship statues, but we do worship ourselves and other people, as preserving our health—even our very lives—becomes an ultimate pursuit.

We reason that we would never cry out to an immovable object to save us from our troubles––but then we look to medicine, doctors, news media, political leaders, right habits, and anything else we think will give us some semblance of reassurance, of peace––of salvation from our circumstances.

Trying to take control of what can’t be ultimately controlled, we set ourselves up for fearfulness in times of inevitable trouble.

But in making idols of these things, and trying to take control of what can’t be ultimately controlled, we set ourselves up for fearfulness in times of inevitable trouble.

What Sovereignty Means for Fear

We see God’s remedy for fearful and rebellious self-sovereigns in what he says next:

I am God, and there is no other;

I am God, and there is none like me,

declaring the end from the beginning

and from ancient times things not yet done,

saying, “My counsel shall stand,

and I will accomplish all my purpose.” (Isa. 46:9–10, italics added)

Throughout the book of Isaiah, God’s boundless wisdom and endless power are displayed, as he unveils to his people his sovereign plan to save them, both historically from Babylonian captivity and also eternally from the captivity of sin. He announces the coming of a Savior, One who would give up his heavenly crown to wear a crown of thorns, fulfilling God’s sovereign plan of salvation for his people (Isa. 53:10; Acts 2:23).

Since Jesus is Lord, we don’t have to be. Because Christ is on his throne, ruling all things with perfect wisdom and power, we are freed from the crushing pressure and fearfulness of trying to rule ourselves, other people, and the circumstances that expose how out of control we are: our health and safety, the welfare of family and friends, the salvation of loved ones, the future, money and possessions, political powers, and nature. Even the mysteries of evil and suffering submit to the lordship of Christ and are no mystery to him.  

When we feel out of control, we choose to rest in his perfect control.

Ultimately our sovereign God calls us to trust him. Trusting him means we walk by faith, not by sight. It means we seek him for wisdom to steward the resources and responsibilities he has given us. It means we believe his sovereign wisdom is right and best, even when we can’t make sense of it. It means that when we feel out of control, we choose to rest in his perfect control: 

Clap your hands, all peoples!

Shout to God with loud songs of joy!

For the LORD, the Most High, is to be feared,

a great king over all the earth. (Ps. 47:1–2, italics added)

Editors’ note: 

This article is adapted from Fight Your Fears: Trusting God’s Character and Promises When You Are Afraid by Kristen Wetherell (Bethany House, 2020).

Kristen Wetherell is a wife, mother, and writer. She is the author of Fight Your Fears and co-author of the award-winning book Hope When It Hurts. She writes regularly for digital publications and enjoys teaching the Bible to women at conferences and retreats. Read Kristen’s writing on her website and connect with her on Instagram, Twitter, and Facebook.

Posted at: https://www.thegospelcoalition.org/article/fear-not-being-control/