Abiding in Prayer

EMILY DARNELL|GUEST

As Christian women, it is quite natural that questions arise in our hearts and minds concerning our prayer life. Like the disciples, we want to ask Jesus “teach me to pray.” We wonder what “pray without ceasing” could look like, whether we are honoring God, and whether we should find some new method.

Jesus’ disciples were still learning how to pray; Jesus was patient in instructing them. This lets us know that our desire to learn more about prayer is healthy, and He delights to teach us as well. Today we will look at how abiding in Christ can help us find answers to these questions.

Two particular passages from the Gospel of John speak to our heart’s desire to learn more about prayer:

John 8:31-32 “So Jesus was saying to those Jews who had believed in Him, “If you continue in My word, then you are truly disciples of Mine; and you will know the truth and the truth will make you free.”

John 15:5-8 “I am the vine, you are the branches; he who abides in Me and I in him, he bears much fruit, for apart from Me you can do nothing. If anyone does not abide in Me, he is thrown away as a branch and dries up; and they gather then, and cast them into the fire and they are burned. If you abide in Me, and My words abide in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you. My Father is glorified by this, that you bear much fruit, and so prove to be My disciples.”

Continue in His word

As we continue, His word finds a place in us. We read, we muse upon His word, we remember it and believe it, and as Paul told the Thessalonians, His word works powerfully in us (see 1 Thessalonians 2:13). In us, in our inner self. This means we should notice the impact of abiding in His word in our thought life, in our desires, in our conscience. As we patiently continue, His truth sets us free from focusing too much on self. His truth will push out fears and doubts that would otherwise hold us back from prayer.

As you abide in His word, you will know Him more, which will then bring greater freedom to stop wondering if you are ‘getting it right.’ Our prayers will become more aligned with Jesus’ own attitude. He was submissive to the Father; He knew He could count on the Father’s love, faithfulness, goodness. He knew every prayer was heard. He was gentle and humble. When He cried out in anguish, in despair, in grief, in turmoil, He was not demanding, or snarky, or standoffish.

Our prayers will also grow to be more in line with His desires, which He has clearly revealed in His Word. As we present our needs and wants, Jesus’ humility and patience will become a filter through which we think, pray, and wait. His glory, and His kingdom, will become more precious to us.

Bearing Much Fruit

Finally, by abiding in Him, we enjoy a more fruitful and satisfying prayer life. John 15:7 is not a promise to give us whatever we want, whenever we say we want it. His promise is even better. A fruitful prayer life is not a prayer life that results in all yesses. It is a promise to use His word in us, and a call for us to join Him in His kingdom work as He:

• Makes us more like Him.

• Brings our desires into line with His. (Oh, that we could call ‘good’ what God does, and delight in true beauty as God does!)

• Allows us to view our circumstances from His perspective, with His perfect peace guarding our hearts even during the times that naturally cause us to despair.

• Grants us the confidence to enter the throne room continually (perfect love has cast out the fear of entering His presence).

• Reassures our hearts of our belonging, and of being perfectly welcomed by Him.

• Awakens within us a desire for the good works He created us for (Ephesians 2:10).

Abiding— the call seen most clearly in the Gospel of John— can beautifully shape your prayer life. Disciples continue in His Word, and that Word shapes our hearts and our prayers. What glorious freedom this brings as we dig deeper into the meaning of abiding, and into all that Jesus promises to His abiding disciples.

For further reflection:

Sometimes a meme, an article, or idea will resonate, and we adopt it too quickly.  Have you taken time to examine what is shaping your prayers?  Are you praying from worldly desires that need to be put off, or godly desires that are in line with Scripture?

Have you ever tried journaling to help grow your prayer life? Writing is slower, this gives you more time to savor what God’s Word is saying, and to let it shape your petitions. You may even ask for help and wisdom with more confidence in His Love and continual presence if you are willing to slow down.

About the Author:

Emily Darnell

Emily Darnell lives in Virginia with her husband and children. She teaches a women’s Bible Study, and plans events at her local church. She enjoys homeschooling, adventuring with her family in the Blue Ridge Mountains, gardening, good books, and good conversations. Her book, “Deep Simplicity: Meditations on Abiding in Christ” is available now for pre-order, releasing on November 6, 2020.

Posted at: https://encourage.pcacdm.org/2020/11/12/post-template-213-81/

A Theology of Thanksgiving

by Dustin Crowe

In our day and age of more-more-more where “Thanksgiving” is the waiting season between Halloween and Christmas, gratitude often takes a back seat. By relegating giving thanks to an occasional add-on in the Christian life—either on Thanksgiving Day or when God blesses us in an undeniable way—we miss out on how it’s meant to tune our hearts toward God on a daily basis.

It’s easy to blame “the world” around me, but I’ll admit that while I know God is the source of all things in my life, it doesn’t mean thanksgiving makes it into my day-to-day rhythms as it should. I go through most days taking God’s gifts for granted. I’d prefer getting things over giving thanks. And when I don’t get what I want, I complain. With all the difficulties and stresses of 2020, I’ve noticed my heart gravitating toward groaning and murmuring rather than choosing thanksgiving.

To fight our fallen inclination toward grumbling, we need to give thanks. But thanksgiving involves more than naming blessings. “I’m thankful for family. I’m thankful for church. I’m thankful for pumpkin pie and all its various spinoffs.” I’m not the thanksgiving police here to slap anyone on the wrist for giving thanks, but I’d love to see Christians move from merely being thankful to being thankful to Someone.

Thanking God by acknowledging his gifts is a great place to start, and it’s better than not thanking him at all. But giving thanks isn’t limited to naming blessings; it’s knowing the One behind them. When we give thanks, we acknowledge something to be from the Lord and it stirs up worship because it tells us what he’s like. Thanksgiving helps us better enjoy the gift because we also see the love and goodness of the Giver behind it.

Thankful…to God

In the Bible, thanksgiving is much more than a quick nod of the cap for all the goodies in life. David Pao writes, “Thanksgiving…is an act of worship. It is not focused primarily on the benefits received or the blessed condition of a person; instead, God is the center of thanksgiving.”1 Giving thanks takes us beyond recognizing God and into enjoying God.

As we give thanks to God, we not only confess we would have nothing good apart from him (James 1:17; 1 Corinthians 4:7), but we also consider who he is. Biblical thanksgiving is a response to more than God’s gifts and acts. It’s a response to what we learn about him through those gifts and acts.

I’m not just saying we should value the giver more than the gifts. I’m suggesting that as we give thanks for the gifts—which we can truly and deeply enjoy—we should also look through the gift to learn more about the person who gave it. In doing so, we will enjoy and love the giver even more.

Ask, “What does the nature of this gift tell me about the giver? What does it tell me about what they want for me or how they’re seeking my good? How does this provide insight into their heart, character, intentions, and attributes?”

Biblical Examples of Thanksgiving

In Paul’s thanksgiving prayers (Colossians 1:3; Ephesians 1:16; 2 Thessalonians 2:13-14), he praises God and recognizes the grace and power of God at work in their gospel-growth. There’s a rich theology of God under every statement of thanksgiving to God.

Consider the story of Jesus healing ten lepers in Luke 17:11-19. There’s one man in particular who not only “praises God with a loud voice” (17:15), but he also falls “on his face at Jesus’ feet, giving him thanks” (17:16). The healed Samaritan doesn’t just see Jesus as a person who did something for him; he falls to his feet in thanksgiving because he sees Jesus as his healer, deliverer, and savior. The joy isn’t only in what he received from Jesus, but it’s also in what was discovered about Jesus.

This kind of God-centered, worship-filled thanksgiving shows up throughout the Psalms (such as Psalm 9, 30, 100, 103, and 138). In Psalm 103, for example, David begins by blessing God for specific actions on behalf of his people (1-5). As he continues, we see that God’s actions reveal his attributes and heart toward his people. David thanks God for His actions but also worships God as those actions reveal a God who is righteous and just (6), merciful and gracious (8), unswerving in love (8), a compassionate father (10), and understanding of our weaknesses (14).

The gifts, works, and actions of God are windows allowing us to see who God is, and who he is for us. A theology of thanksgiving to God is therefore a conduit of communion with God. Gratitude for what God has done produces worship because of who God is.

Growing in Gratitude

Thanksgiving involves saying thank you to God for his acts and gifts but also worshipping God because of what those things tell us about him. We first recognize God as the source of what we have to be grateful for. The second, more neglected step, is we must stop and think about what these gifts tell us about him. Thanksgiving moves from recognition of what God has done to revering Him as a God who does such things. 

It’s good to give thanks to God for a material blessing. It’s even better to perceive in that blessing a God with a generous heart eager to provide for his children. It’s good to give thanks to God for a spiritual blessing, such as our adoption in Christ, but it’s more impactful when you simultaneously delight in a God who clears your charges and embraces you in his loving arms.

Thanksgiving to God for his gifts and actions reveals God to us in bigger and clearer ways. See God at work and know him through what you see. Fight grumbling with gratitude.

*This article is adapted from Dustin Crowe’s new book, The Grumbler’s Guide to Giving Thanks: Reclaiming the Gifts of a Lost Spiritual Discipline.

Footnotes
1David Pao, Thanksgiving: An Investigation of a Pauline Theme (Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press, 2002), 28.

Dustin Crowe

Dustin Crowe serves as pastor of discipleship at Pennington Park Church. He is the author of The Grumbler’s Guide to Giving Thanksand Finding Satisfaction in Christ. You can follow him on Twitter or Instagram (@indycrowe) or visit his blog (indycrowe.com).

Posted at: https://ftc.co/resource-library/blog-entries/a-theology-of-thanksgiving/

The Surpassing Worth of Knowing Christ

Jim Elliff

Most do not understand the implications and ramifications of knowing Christ. It has a comparative value. Notice what one like Paul will forfeit to know Christ. I’m quoting only part of the long sentence, but it conveys what I want you to see:

“But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ. Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ.” ‭‭(Philippians‬ ‭3:7-8‬).

To Paul, this word, knowing, speaks of something very lofty and compelling which had a beginning and about which he has ongoing consuming interest not to be set aside throughout all of his earthly life and eons of time beyond. He calls it “the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord.” 

Surpassing what? The answer: “whatever gain I had.” He had lots to boast about in terms of gain. He meant that he had status, reputation, accumulated superior knowledge among his peers, leadership . . . all of which he “counted as loss for the sake of Christ.” It was a wasted status, unfounded reputation, wrongheaded knowledge, and a leadership into a black hole of misunderstood data and religious practice. But it was potent to him. And he gave it up. He experienced the loss of everything in the world of his own comprehension (he counted them as “rubbish”) and among his once esteemed peers (“I have suffered the loss of all things”). 

All this happened in a moment of time, with a vision of Christ, on the road to Damascus. 

Be shocked by this. He didn’t know Christ; he hated all he knew about Christ. And driven by that perspective, he was pursuing in anger those who did know Christ on his way to the Syrian city of Damascus north of Israel. But, in a very short time, he gave up everything he had gained in the Jewish world for the Christ he sought to destroy. 

How do you explain this?

Only one explanation will work—he saw something that had more value. God revealed Christ to him in a vision. After that, he was as gentle and submissive as a newborn. Meeting Christ was just that powerful. It was the surpassing value that turned everything upside down in a moment.

You likely won’t have a Damascus road experience exactly like what God chose to give such a historical figure as Paul, but the knowing of Christ is just as necessary.  The form of the revelation of Christ is not the important thing. Knowing Christ is. And Christ is made known to you in his compelling beauty by the Father revealing him to you. That may come through normal cognition, but it is supernatural and will change everything.

Editor’s Note: This originally published at Christian Communicators Worldwide

Jim Elliff

Jim Elliff is the president of Christian Communicators Worldwide. Through this ministry Jim, and a team of communicators, train leaders, teach the Bible, and evangelize, both overseas and throughout the United States. He is the author of several books, and writes regularly for three CCW websites: CCWtoday.org, BulletinInserts.org and WaytoGod.org. Jim is also one of several pastors of Christ Fellowship of Kansas City, a network of congregations meeting in homes in Metro Kansas City.

Posted at: https://ftc.co/resource-library/blog-entries/the-surpassing-worth-of-knowing-christ/

8 Ways Trials Help Us

KATIE FARIS

Catch us off guard? Yes. Expose fear, anxiety, anger, and self-pity? For sure. Bring sorrow and pain? Absolutely. Trials do a lot of things, but what good do they do?  

In his letter to dispersed Jewish Christians, James gives this imperative: “Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness” (James 1:2–3).

These are great memory verses for a Sunday school class—but what about when we lose a job and can’t pay the mortgage? What good do chemotherapy, a NICU stay, a car accident, or persecution for our faith actually accomplish?

What good do chemotherapy, a NICU stay, a car accident, or persecution for our faith actually accomplish?

There’s a reason James unashamedly tells us to count it all joy when we encounter trials like these. He knows that when true faith survives their refining heat, the fruit is sweeter than the cost is painful. Here are eight ways trials help produce steadfastness.

1. Trials deepen our prayer lives.

When overwhelmed, we can pray like Jehoshaphat: “We do not know what to do, but our eyes are on you” (2 Chron. 20:12). In response to devastating news, we weep, fast, and pray as Nehemiah did (Neh. 1:3–4). In the throes of worry, we “let our requests be made known to God” and cast all our “anxieties on him, because he cares for us” (Phil. 4:6; 1 Pet. 5:7). When we lack words to pray, “the Spirit helps us in our weakness,” interceding for us “with groanings too deep for words” (Rom. 8:26). Humble prayer cultivates dependence on God, attacks our pride, and positions us to delight in the Lord who hears and answers in accordance with his wisdom.

2. Trials grow our knowledge of God’s Word and character.

A wilderness season invites us to internalize God’s promises, to learn as the wandering Israelites did that we don’t “live by bread alone” but by “every word that comes from the mouth of the LORD” (Deut. 8:3). The psalmist says, “It is good for me that I was afflicted, that I might learn your statutes” (Ps. 119:71), and Job confesses, “I had heard of [God] by the hearing of the ear, but now my eye sees you” (Job 42:5). God often uses suffering to grow our knowledge of his Word and his true character.

3. Trials increase gratitude for our Savior.

When we taste sorrow, it reminds us that Jesus drank the full cup of God’s wrath on our behalf. He prayed, “Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me. Nevertheless, not my will, but yours, be done” (Luke 22:42), and then he was “wounded for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities” (Isa. 53:5).

Humble prayer cultivates dependence on God, attacks our pride, and positions us to delight in God who hears and answers in accordance with his wisdom.

Our pain makes us more aware of Jesus’s pain, increasing our gratitude for the agony he suffered on the cross. We also rejoice because through his sacrifice, our sin is forgiven and our salvation secured. We remember and cry, “Thank you, Jesus, for suffering in our place!”

4. Trials make us more like Jesus.

When Joseph’s brothers intended evil toward him, “God meant it for good,” to keep many people alive in famine (Gen. 50:20). Our redeeming God—who worked out our salvation through Jesus’s painful sacrifice on the cross—continues to work all things, including our trials, for the “good of those who love him” (Rom. 8:28–29). One good thing God does through hardship is make us more like Jesus, who “learned obedience through what he suffered” (Heb. 5:8).

5. Trials equip us to comfort others.

In our trials, God means to comfort us so abundantly that we overflow with compassionate care for others. Paul writes that God “comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in affliction” (2 Cor. 1:4). It’s God’s intention that we be conduits of his comfort to suffering family, friends, and neighbors. Our experience of trials helps us understand what others might feel and need, and our experience of God’s comfort equips us to come alongside them to pray and serve in a gentle manner.

6. Trials prepare an eternal weight of glory.

Maybe we can’t see what our trials are doing, but they’re working. Each “light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison” when we look to what is unseen (2 Cor. 4:17–18). Each car ride to the treatment center. Each pile of paperwork and signed check. Each sleepless night spent caring for sick children. Given to him, it’s all significant in the kingdom of heaven.

7. Trials remind us that earth isn’t our true home.

In loneliness, we yearn for God’s presence. Tears stir our hearts for a place with no “mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore” (Rev. 21:4). Sick bodies wait eagerly for new ones. Death makes us long for resurrection. These trials remind us that earth isn’t our true home. They increase our hunger for heaven.

8. Trials test and strengthen our faith.

Trials prove the genuineness of our faith, which fills our hearts with joyful assurance of salvation and results “in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ” (1 Pet. 1:7). This strengthening of faith motivates us to “lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and . . . run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, . . . who for the joy set before him endured the cross” (Heb. 12:1–2). 

God Is Doing Something Through Your Trials

Even knowing the good that comes through trials, I doubt we would intentionally choose suffering for ourselves or our loved ones. But God is wiser than we are. His ways are higher than our ways (Isa. 55:9), and he uses trials for both his seen and unseen purposes in our lives.

You may not know what God is doing in a particular trial, but given the many options presented in Scripture, you can know he’s doing something. Given how much he loves you, you can know it’s for your eternal good. That is a reason for great rejoicing.

Katie Faris is married to Scott, and her greatest works in progress are their five children ages 2 to 13. She is the author of Loving My Children: Embracing Biblical Motherhood. She worships at Sovereign Grace Church in Marlton, New Jersey. You can read more of Katie’s words on her website, blog, Instagram, or Facebook.

Posted at: https://www.thegospelcoalition.org/article/8-ways-trials-help-us/

Called to Suffer

Paul Tautges

“In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.”

John 16:33

For to this you have been called, because Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example, so that you might follow in his steps.

1 Peter 2:21

Suffering is no stranger to followers of Christ. It’s part of our calling, part of our identity. We are sufferers. We were born into a fallen world cursed by God when mankind first sinned in the Garden of Eden (Gen. 3:17). As a result, we groan. We groan because life hurts badly—there are unspeakable sorrows. We groan as we await the final day of redemption when “the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to corruption and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God” (Rom. 8:21). We groan as our hearts ache for the day when Jesus will make all things new (Rev. 21:5). Until then, suffering is guaranteed.

Don’t misunderstand me. The primary identity of each and every Christian is an exalted and victorious one. It is connected to who we are in Christ; that is, our position or standing before God. We are set apart by God (Eph. 1:1); adopted into his family (Eph. 1:5); objects of God’s grace (Eph. 1:6); chosen by the Father, redeemed by the Son, and sealed by the Spirit (Eph. 1:4, 7, 13-14); we are part of God’s eternal plan (Eph. 3:11); and much more. This world is not our home, “For our citizenship is in heaven, from which also we eagerly wait for a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ” (Phil. 3:20). Positionally, we are already seated in the heavens and possess every spiritual blessing (Eph. 1:2). Make no mistake. The believer’s eternal inheritance is more glorious than we could ever imagine. Still we live in a world filled with pain, anguish, and loss. Suffering is common to all human beings; no one is exempt. However, its expectation is even more sure for Christians, due to our identification with the suffering Savior. Though he now sits at God’s right hand, our victorious, risen and ascended Savior still has his scars. We must never forget that!

More than seven hundred years before Jesus was born in Bethlehem, the prophet Isaiah wrote about the pain and anguish of Messiah, the Suffering Servant, as if it had already taken place. He was “despised and rejected.” He was not “esteemed” as he deserved, but instead was “stricken,” struck down by his own fallen creatures (Isa. 53:3-4). Ultimately, he was “wounded for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities” at Calvary (Isa. 53:6). He was “oppressed” and “afflicted” by those whom he came to save (Isa. 53:7). Jesus is the Savior who suffered in the past, but remains understanding and compassionate toward us in our suffering—even now—as every believer’s High Priest (Heb. 4:15). With these realities in mind, let’s think about suffering in three ways.

Suffering is predicted by Jesus.

Jesus himself warns all who follow him: “In the world you will have tribulation,” but he also urges us to “take heart” since he already has “overcome the world” (Jn. 16:33). To believers who were scattered, due to persecution, the apostle Peter wrote, “For to this you have been called, because Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example, so that you might follow in his steps” (1 Pet. 2:21). The specific context of this admonition is suffering for righteousness’ sake; that is, persecution for doing right in the face of evil treatment. However, the same truth also serves as an umbrella principle over all forms of suffering we endure. It’s part of our calling. Yet the suffering we experience is unlike that of Jesus in one very significant way: his suffering atoned for sin; ours could never. Jesus alone is the Lamb of God who can take away the sins of the world (Jn. 1:29). Jesus—and only Jesus—could be the “once for all” sacrifice which was foreshadowed by Old Testament law (Heb. 7:27; 9:12; 1 Pet. 3:18). He alone is the sinless God-man, the one, qualified mediator between God and man (1 Tim. 2:5). He alone is Savior (Acts 4:12). Our suffering can never save us (we could never atone for our own sin), but it can deepen our existing relationship with the One who already suffered in our place.

Suffering draws us closer to Jesus.

In our suffering, we are offered an opportunity to experience a kind of fellowship with Jesus that can be sweeter and deeper than at any other time in our lives. The apostle Paul spoke about this growth principle when he expressed the longing of his heart to know Jesus experientially: “that I may know him and the power of his resurrection, and may share his sufferings, becoming like him in his death” (Phil. 3:10). Paul knew Christ, and was known by Christ, due to receiving his righteousness by faith at the moment of his conversion. He was confident he had been saved from the wrath to come, but he was not content with his relationship with Jesus. Paul wanted to be walk closer and closer to his Savior, in the fellowship of his sufferings. Fanny Crosby echoed this same longing in 1874, in her hymn Close to Thee.

Close to Thee, close to Thee,
Gladly will I toil and suffer,
Only let me walk with Thee.[1]

Times of suffering typically send us looking for a compassionate, caring friend. Jesus is the Friend of all friends. Pain can bond us to our Savior if we will allow it to do its internal work.

Suffering shifts our heart’s affections.

Suffering always involves some form of loss and, therefore, it naturally loosens our grip on the temporal by forcing our focus onto the eternal. The apostle Paul testifies of this helpful comparison: “For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us” (Rom. 8:18). Without suffering we undoubtedly would think less about the eternal glories of heaven. In addition, physical, mental, and relational pain have the unique power to dethrone idols, and redirect the affections of our heart toward Christ. The anguish we feel exposes the insufficiency of what we hold to most dearly in this life, offering to us the opportunity to repent of disordered worship and renew our vows to Christ. Indeed this is one of the most important redemptive purposes of God in our suffering.

If by faith you have been united to Jesus in his death, burial, and resurrection, you can expect suffering to be a regular part of your life. Painful trials are not punitive for the Christian, since Jesus was already punished in our place. However, because our loving heavenly Father is eager to bless us more and more, he employs suffering to draw us closer and closer through more childlike faith and obedience. For the believer, the fiery blaze of suffering does not destroy. Instead it is a refining fire that carries with it the potential to purify our hearts, increase our love, and sanctify our lives in order to more clearly reflect the humility and love of Christ.

Take a moment to pray. Thank God for the good purposes he has for your suffering. Ask him to give you a teachable heart as you draw near to him.

[1] Fanny J. Crosby, “Close to Thee,” 1874.

Posted at: https://counselingoneanother.com/2020/11/07/called-to-suffer/

Children With Disabilities are a Gift From the Lord

From Paul Tautges website:

*Today’s article is written by Dave and Nancy Deuel, and is drawn from their new mini-book, Help! My Child has a Disability.

It was a busy time in our lives. Dave tells the story. We had gotten married, and I had finished school and taken my first teaching job. We had moved from the East Coast to the West Coast, had our first child, and were preparing for our second. We were also in the process of buying our first home. With changes coming at what felt like the speed of light, we yearned for a taste of the quiet life.

No one could have prepared us for what came next.

Early one evening, we drove to the hospital. Nancy was in labor with our second child. The nurses welcomed us at the door and seated her in a wheelchair. We joked nervously about a “throne on wheels” fit for a queen. Having turned down the amniocentesis test, due to its risks, we prayerfully anticipated a healthy delivery.

The nurses at Henry-Mayo Newhall Hospital in Santa Clarita, California, were outstanding. They were witty, alert, and lighthearted. Their joking soothed our nerves. The doctor, on the other hand, was all business, as we’d hoped he would be. With the stage set for a perfectly normal birth at an excellent hospital, all was well . . . or so we thought.

When the moment of delivery arrived, I was ready to give our little girl the trendy LaBoya bath. This was supposed to soothe the newborn, as it put her back in a state of liquid suspension, simulating a mother’s womb. The already focused physician was hyper-vigilant. Why couldn’t he just lighten up a little? Aren’t births supposed to be happy occasions? This doctor was stealing our joy! After all, all was well.

But all was not well.

As our sweetheart entered the world, she hardly made a sound. The silence, combined with the looks of panic our doctor gave the nurses, sent a sick feeling to my stomach. Our little girl was in trouble. I was in trouble. What was usually a noisy, happy moment when the pink, squalling little bundle bursts forth making first sounds was a deafening hush.

Although the delivery team reluctantly allowed us to do the LaBoya bath, I held our baby loosely. She was limp, motionless, and blue. Finally, the team whisked her off to the nursery, or so I thought. No! It was off to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU). While they struggled to be polite and sensitive to our feelings, their facial expressions and overall quiet showed clearly that something was wrong. I was getting sicker and sicker in my stomach as my wife rested, unaware that anything was wrong.

That night, I drove home praying, numb and scared. Although I still had no idea what was wrong, I knew for certain we were bracing ourselves for something bad. Exhausted, I dropped off to sleep. But just as I did so the phone rang. It was Nancy. She was crying. “They won’t let me see our baby.” In a stupor, I recklessly drove several blocks to the hospital and parked in the wrong lot. As I ran through the front door we had entered joyfully just hours earlier, one of the nurses who helped deliver our baby met me. She stammered on the verge of tears, “I need to talk to you about what’s going on.”

I froze.

“We had to take your daughter to the NICU because her heart stopped. We were able to revive her, but she’s doing very poorly.” Then she said the words I couldn’t bear to hear: “She may not live.” I raced to see my little girl. There were so many wires and tubes attached to her that I could hardly find her. I looked up to see the nurse watching my reaction. She covered her mouth and ran for the door, crying. My legs felt like they would buckle. “Lord, not this, please” repeatedly crossed my mind.

Making very little eye contact the doctor repeated the nurse’s message, but with much less empathy. “Things are bad. Her heart stopped and we spent twenty minutes resuscitating her. She may not live. If she does live, she may have additional brain damage.” The word additional hit me like a freight train. It was final. The only thing we knew for certain was that our little girl had some sort of brain damage. That point was certain. The doctor also told us that if we wanted to confirm the diagnosis, we would need to do a chromosome test. We had no idea what he was talking about.

After two weeks of waiting, the first chromosome test was thrown out due to accidental contamination. When we were asked if we wanted to do another test, I impatiently responded, “No, you’re not putting my little girl through that again.” So, we moved forward with no clear genetic testing, only a cluster of symptoms that characterized Down syndrome. Our hearts ached.

Our pediatrician called several weeks later to confirm the diagnosis of Down syndrome. Down syndrome. I hated those words. What I hated worse was Down’s baby, or just Down’s. I wanted out. In the vernacular of a former generation, I was the father of a retarded child, or as some would say, a “Mongoloid baby.” That cut deep. What responsible human being would come up with such a title? What sensitive society would use it?

Several thousand miles away from family, alone and crushed, we tried to move forward with life. At church, people genuinely tried to encourage us. One woman asked Nancy sympathetically, “Do you plan to keep her?” Our first thought was, “Well, what else would we do with her?” Someone explained to us later that the previous generation was encouraged to institutionalize children “like this.” “Like what?” I fired back. I had entered the world of language hypersensitivity. I was taking a nosedive.

Our minds sought refuge in Bible verses like this:

Children are a heritage from the Lord.

Psalm 127:3

All children? Maybe not some children. And then there was another verse:

Take delight in the Lord,
and he will give you the desires of your heart.

Psalm 37:4

What we desired was a normal, healthy baby. These verses were not working for us. The confusion was overwhelming. In a particularly dark moment, life seemed like it was over.

But life was not over. A bright new day had dawned for our entire family, although it would take a while for us to realize it. Learning to accept God’s gift would ease the pain and keep us going. But that would take some time and personal growth.

Today, our daughter Joanna is thirty-two years old, reasonably healthy, and quite happy. As a family, our lives are rich with God’s grace. Our other three kids have compassion ahead of their years, and dote on their sister and enrich her life. God has given us the desires of our hearts: children. All children are a gift from the Lord. His mercy lifts parents up and carries them over every rough road. And his light breaks through our darkness.

*Do you know a family affected by disability? Why not gift them a copy of Help! My Child has a Disability.

Posted at: https://counselingoneanother.com/2020/11/23/children-with-disabilities-are-a-gift-from-the-lord/

Draw Near to Discern

Laura Eder

I can’t remember the last time I experienced a season of life that demanded as many decisions as this one.

Local and national government elections compelled decisive action. Families have been choosing (from less-than-ideal options) how their children should be educated during a pandemic. Some people are considering new job opportunities; others are struggling to develop new budgets with less income. Many are facing difficult tensions in close relationships.

The decisions have been relentless, and I have felt desperate for discernment.

At the beginning of 2020, I had not planned to read through the book of Ecclesiastes at this time, but God, in his providence, had planned for me to read it. The book begins with a wise admonition about how we are to approach God in our worship. Before we make decisions (even sacrificially, for the Lord), we can adopt this same humble posture as we wait for God’s guidance:

To draw near to listen is better than to offer the sacrifice of fools… (Ecc. 5:1).

Thankfully, God faithfully provides exactly what we need through his word. As we draw near to him through the regular reading of Scripture, he instructs us directly and personally. By listening to God’s word, fearing him, and keeping his commandments, we can gain the wisdom we lack for today’s difficult decisions. The writer of Ecclesiastes summarizes the book with three instructions to guide us in this pursuit.

The words of the wise are like goads, and like nails firmly fixed are the collected sayings; they are given by one Shepherd. My son, beware of anything beyond these. Of making many books there is no end, and much study is a weariness of the flesh… Fear God and keep his commandments, for this is the whole duty of man. For God will bring every deed into judgment, with every secret thing, whether good or evil (Ecc. 12:11-14).

On the Way to Wisdom

1. God’s word guides us according to his own wisdom (Ecc. 12:11).

The words of the wise are like goads…

A goad is a stick used to prod and guide animals along the right path for their work. Much like oxen, I am prone to venture away from God’s good and right way. God is faithful to steer me back through the wisdom of Scripture.   

…like firmly fixed nails are the collected sayings; they are given by one Shepherd.

The words “firmly fixed nails” bring to mind the image of Christ’s hands and feet, fixed on the cross. His sacrifice secures our salvation by grace and through faith. And his wise words collected in the Bible are utterly dependable. They are given by the Good Shepherd who was faithful, even unto death. He is fully able to provide the good direction and right stability that we crave.

2. The world’s voices will make us weary (Ecc. 12:12).

My son, beware of anything beyond these. Of making many books there is no end, and much study is a weariness of the flesh.

We can become victims of our own analysis-paralysis when we primarily look outside of God’s word for wisdom. We don’t want to be like children “tossed to and fro by the waves and carried about by every wind of doctrine, human cunning, craftiness or deceitful schemes” (Eph. 4:14). Instead, God’s word offers us a firm tether in a sea of confusion.

We have the hope of the gospel as a “sure and steadfast anchor of the soul, a hope that enters into the inner place behind the curtain, where Jesus has gone as a forerunner on our behalf, having become a high priest forever” (Heb. 6:19-20). We may feel like we’re lost at sea, but Jesus Himself is the anchor of our souls.

It’s not our job to know everything that’s going on in the world, to fix every problem, or to have a right answer for every question. Instead, believers have the duty and freedom to fear God and keep His commands. In the end, that’s all that really matters.

3. Fear God, and rest in his justice (Ecc. 12:14).

Fear God and keep his commandments, for this is the whole duty of man.

The fear of the Lord is our motivation to keep his commands. This kind of fear is the reverent, awe-filled belief that God has the power to give and take life as he chooses. His act of saving us is his choice to give us undeserved, new life. Though we deserve punishment for our many sins, the gavel has landed with the miraculous declaration: “Not guilty!” Not only is our debt paid in full, but we are credited the perfect righteousness of Christ. This good news fuels our gratitude that manifests in joyful obedience.

For God will bring every deed into judgment, with every secret thing, whether good or evil.

Obeying God’s commands is important because he is a just judge. He will deal with every human decision, whether known or secret, whether good or evil. He will judge perfectly and finally. All things are ultimately in his hands. We do not control the final outcomes. This is a fearsome warning for those who do not know God. But what a relief for the believer! We are in right standing with God, not because of our decisions, but because of his decision to claim us as his own for all eternity. What relief that brings when we feel the weight of responsibility to make wise decisions in our temporary, earthly days.

Brother and sister, be encouraged in these days of decision-making. In his word, God has given everything we need to wisely discern his will. He gives us his own fatherly wisdom, collected in the pages of Scripture. He gives us his son, Jesus Christ, whose decisive sacrifice on the cross makes him the perfect Shepherd, able to guide us. And he gives us his Spirit, who still speaks into our decisions—if we are willing to draw near and discern, with an open Bible.

Posted at: https://unlockingthebible.org/2020/11/draw-near-discern/

Encouragement for Hard Times from Saints of Old

Tim Chester

Let me tell you a story about a pandemic, lockdown and social distancing. Sound familiar? Yet this is a story not from 2020, but from 1665.

That year, the so-called “great plague” broke out in southern England – part of a global pandemic of bubonic plague. At some point a bundle of flea-infested cloth arrived in the village of Eyam in the Derbyshire Dales. The package was opened by a tailor’s assistant called George Viccars. Within days he was dead. Other members of the household fell ill, and the people of Eyam realised they had an outbreak on their hands.

What happened next is an amazing story of courage and self-sacrifice. Three years before, the Rector of Eyam, Thomas Stanley, had lost his ministry during the Great Ejection when around 2,000 Puritan leaders were forced out of the Church of England. The new rector, William Mompesson, remained within the established Church but shared Stanley’s living faith in Christ. Under their combined leadership, the village made the decision to self-isolate. It made sense for people to escape the plague by leaving the village. But that risked spreading the disease to other parts of the north of England. So instead they chose a self-imposed lockdown. No one came into the village and no one left.

To this day there’s a stone on a footpath out of the village with natural indents which, during the plague, were filled with vinegar so villagers could safely leave coins in exchange for supplies. No funerals were held; instead families had to bury their own dead. Church services were held outside so people could practice a seventeenth-century version of social distancing. The plague ran its course over fourteen months. How many people died is disputed, but it’s thought to have been over half the village. The dead included the rector’s own wife, whose grave is still in the churchyard.

Sustained by the truth

COVID-19 has certainly led to strange and challenging times. But, as the story of Eyam reminds us, they are not without precedent. In 1665, the great plague left around 100,000 people dead—a quarter of London’s population. Just as someone can think they’re the centre of the world, so we can think we’re the centre of the ages—as if our challenges are special. But the people of God have faced crises again and again across the centuries. This is one of the great values of church history: the gospel truths that sustained the saints of old are the same truths that will sustain us today.

The writer of Hebrews says,

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith (Heb. 12: 1-2).

The Christian life is a long race, he says, and if we want to make it to the finish line we need to do two things. First, we’re to turn away from distractions, especially the distraction of sin, and “throw off everything that hinders” (v 1). Second, we’re to turn instead to look at and “[fix] our eyes on Jesus” (v 2).

To help fix our gaze on Jesus, we are surrounded by “a great cloud of witnesses” (v 1). For the first readers of Hebrews, these witnesses were the saints of the Old Testament, whose faith in God’s promises had sustained them through troubling times and had enabled them to achieve great things in God’s name. But as readers today, we can add names from across the pages of church history to that crowd of cheering spectators. Two thousand years on, the cloud of witnesses is larger than ever.

The key thing is that such people are “witnesses.” Like the witness in a law court, they have evidence to present and, in this case, their testimony concerns Jesus Christ. Their purpose is not to draw attention to themselves but to him. Their lives may inspire and their words may inform, but their true value is that they point us to Jesus.

The best of Christian writers from across the centuries keep on directing our gaze to Christ and his work. The seventeenth-century Puritans wrote book after book about Christ, perhaps because it was the glory of Christ that sustained them through their hardships. Here, for example, are the Christ-centred words of Puritan William Bridge in his book, Lifting Up for the Downcast:

Be sure that you think of Christ in a right way and manner as he suits your condition and as he is held forth in the gospel … The Scriptures hold forth the person of Christ in ways that make him very amiable to poor sinners. Are you accused by Satan, the world or your own conscience? He is called your Advocate. Are you ignorant? He is called the Prophet. Are you guilty of sin? He is called a Priest and High Priest. Are you afflicted with many enemies, inward and outward? He is called a King, and King of kings. Are you in dire straits? He is called your Way [1].

Our Puritan brothers and sisters in Christ wrestled with God through hard times, and the fruit of their labour can help us through the hard times we face. Sometimes the language and emphases of the past seem strange to us. But this very strangeness is actually a key reason to read old authors. They present familiar truths in a different way—a way that can capture our imaginations anew. Moreover, the strangeness of their world becomes a vantage point from which to view ourselves with a fresh perspective, potentially exposing the strangeness of our own preoccupations and prejudices.

When we listen to heart-warming wisdom from the saintly witnesses of old, we are encouraged to fix our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith.

_____

Tim Chester’s new book is An Ocean of Grace: A Journey to Easter with Great Voices from the Past, a collection of devotions and prayers for Lent from writers across church history.

 Posted at: https://unlockingthebible.org/2020/11/encouragement-from-saints-old/

God Is Not More, Cannot Promise More, or Do More…

Charles Hodge

All divine names and titles are applied to Him. He is called God, the mighty God, the great God, God over all; Jehovah; Lord; the Lord of lords and the King of kings.

All divine attributes are ascribed to Him. He is declared to be omnipresent, omniscient, almighty, and immutable, the same yesterday, today, and forever.

He is set forth as the creator and upholder and ruler of the universe. All things were created by Him and for Him; and by Him all things consist.

He is the object of worship to all intelligent creatures, even the highest; all the angels (i.e., all creatures between man and God) are commanded to prostrate themselves before Him.

He is the object of all the religious sentiments; of reverence, love, faith, and devotion.

To Him men and angels are responsible for their character and conduct.

He required that men should honour Him as they honoured the Father; that they should exercise the same faith in Him that they do in God.

He declares that He and the Father are one; that those who had seen Him had seen the Father also.

He calls all men unto Him; promises to forgive their sins; to send them the Holy Spirit; to give them rest and peace; to raise them up at the last day; and to give them eternal life.

God is not more, and cannot promise more, or do more than Christ is said to be, to promise, and to do. He has, therefore, been the Christian’s God from the beginning, in all ages and in all places.

Posted at: https://www.challies.com/quotes/god-is-not-more-cannot-promise-more-or-do-more/

Seven Dangers You Face as a Spiritually-Single Christian

By Robert Jones

While marriage can be difficult, being married to a non-Christian can be doubly difficult. But God can help you.

By spiritually-single, I mean believers in Christ married to those who don’t follow Jesus Christ. Jesus envisioned the possibility of spiritually-mixed marriages in passages like Luke 14:25-27. The apostle Paul addresses this reality in 1 Corinthians 7:12-16, as does the apostle Peter in 1 Peter 3:1-6. Thankfully, each passage brings direction and hope.

How did you become spiritually single? Perhaps you and your spouse were both unsaved when you married, but the Lord graciously saved you. Or maybe you were a believer who didn’t know God’s command only to marry a believer (1 Cor. 7:39-40; 2 Cor. 6:14-18). Or you knew God’s command, but you disregarded or defied it, and you married your non-Christian fiancé anyway. Or you thought that person was a believer, but your spouse now evidences no commitment to the Lord.

Regardless of how you formed your spiritually-mixed marriage, you now face an array of daily spiritual dangers as a Christian. Consider seven temptations you uniquely meet in your marriage.

1. Letting Your Good Desire for Your Spouse’s Conversion Rule Your Heart

While we should strongly yearn for our unsaved spouse to know and submit to King Jesus, even this desire can become idolatrous if it becomes a demand toward God or if we live with despair, anger, or anxiety if it doesn’t happen (e.g., Luke 24:21). It can lead to manipulative attempts to make your spouse a Christian. Instead, ask God to help you learn to balance fervent prayer with biblical trust and contentment.

2. Daydreaming about Being Married to a Christian

The world continually sends messages that tempt us toward discontentment. Even Christian romance novels, films, or social media—or a Christian man or woman you know—can tempt you to long for a better or different godly partner. But escapism through fantasy denies God’s sovereign, wise, and good purposes for you. God was not asleep when you wed your spouse—He was at the ceremony—even if you did so unwisely.

3. Envying Those Who Have a Christian Spouse

No doubt, there are benefits to a two-believer marriage. Christian couples find it easier to make joint decisions, raise their children, and handle finances and in-laws. But comparison will tempt you toward discontentment. Envy assaults God’s goodness. It leaves you no room to rejoice with these brothers and sisters, thank God for their salvation, pray for them, serve them, and enjoy them. Moreover, we can forget that their remaining sin means even those marriages remain imperfect.

4. Becoming Angry at God and Blaming Him

Resentment complains, “I can’t believe God allowed me to fall in love with a non-Christian man.” It accusingly asks, “Why, God, have you not saved my spouse yet? Don’t you love me enough to give me what I’ve prayed for?” Unanswered prayer tests our belief in God’s goodness and our willingness to rest in God’s sovereign, electing grace. Believers must learn to replace sinful anger against God with godly lament. Like the psalmists, tell God your struggles. But remember your finiteness, rehearse His glorious acts and attributes, repent of your accusations against Him, and learn to trust His wisdom.[1]

5. Expecting Christian Thinking or Behavior from Your Unsaved Spouse

Does your spouse’s sinful behavior shock you? Why? The apostle Paul reminds you, “The mind governed by the flesh is hostile to God; it does not submit to God’s law, nor can it do so. Those who are in the realm of the flesh cannot please God” (Rom. 8:6-8; cf. 1 Cor. 2:14). Don’t expect your non-Christian spouse to act biblically; they are incapable of this apart from a saving relationship with Christ and the power of the Holy Spirit.

6. Compromising Your Godly Convictions

Because marriage involves joint decisions, some situations will tempt you to compromise your godly convictions. Maybe to avoid conflict, you have given in to your spouse’s ungodly decisions. Or you don’t know when to speak up in disagreement and when to keep quiet, trust God, and pray. Ask God to fortify your godly convictions but to help you voice and live them graciously. At the same time, make sure your standards are biblically-based—not higher than God’s—so as not to impose legalistic pressure on you or your unsaved spouse.

7. Proudly Comparing Yourself to Your Unbelieving Spouse

Along with the point above, remember you also were once incapable of acting biblically. Paul calls us “to slander no one, to be peaceable and considerate, and always to be gentle toward everyone”—including an unsaved spouse—because, before God saved us, “at one time we too were foolish, disobedient, deceived and enslaved by all kinds of passions and pleasures. We lived in malice and envy, being hated and hating one another” (Titus 3:2-3). You were saved by grace alone. And even now, apart from the Lord, you can do nothing (John 15:5). According to our Lord’s parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector in Luke 18:9-14, the only thing worse than being an evildoer (or whatever sins you dislike about your spouse) is being proud you are not one. In short, you were not as good as you think you were then, and not as good as you think you are now. Whatever godliness you display is solely because of the Spirit’s transforming work in you.

Conclusion

Living as a Christian with a spouse who doesn’t follow Jesus brings numerous challenges. But as hard as that is for you right now, remember the devastating eternal destiny your spouse faces. Unless God saves them, they are heading toward final judgment and a Christ-less eternity. Recall that God saved you when you were “powerless, ungodly, sinners, and God’s enemies” (Rom. 5:6, 8, 10). Ask God to do that for your unsaved spouse. And as you do, love that person with the love Christ has given you. Live out this relationship with godly deeds and attitudes (1 Pet. 3:1-6).

Questions for Reflection 

1. Which of these seven temptations are most problematic for you?

2. What does God’s Word say about them? Have you talked to God about them?

3. Have you shared your struggle with your pastors and with godly (same gender) brothers or sisters? Point them to this article and ask them to pray for you, encourage you, and coach you in being a godly spouse in your spiritually-mixed marriage.

[1] See Robert D. Jones, Angry at God? Bring Him Your Doubts & Questions, (Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R, 2003).

Posted at: https://www.biblicalcounselingcoalition.org/2020/11/23/seven-dangers-you-face-as-a-spiritually-single-christian/