I didn’t plan to write this e-mail (or rather, what’s in it) until about a month and a half ago when I knew it was something I was called to do.  I’d rather write something else, in fact.  I debated just scrapping what is to follow more than once and going my own route, but that’s not what God wants.  It’s slightly more personal than most but, having already written most of what is to follow, I’m as positive as I can be that it’s in God’s will.

I’ve said before that golden calves are tough to destroy, tougher to stop feeding.  And I confess that I’ve made this e-mail something to adore more than I would have liked, something to do on Tuesday evenings while American Idol blared in the background (see, I still have my idols) and my Bible wouldn’t open and my hands wouldn’t clasp.  I never intentionally write anything that I don’t believe, but I need an overdue lesson in practicing what I preach.

God is the force that allows me to breathe, but sometimes I feel that writing is.  I confess that something I love to do is minister and encourage others—fine—without being humble enough to accept identical ministering and encouragement in return, either from other brothers and sisters or from God—not fine.  I am nobody’s savior, least of all my own.  And I feel I need to reflect on that for a while, maybe even for the remainder of 2010 if not longer, a sabbatical if you will.  I often endanger myself at the foot of the cross by being too legalistic, by bringing minor trinkets of my own to the altar—as if they could replace or decorate the most glorious sacrifice in the history of the world.

It should never be about my agenda, which can often be selfish.  I want to work in accordance with God’s will, not against it, and right now I’m doing more of the former.  My personal walk with my Redeemer currently needs a lot of maintenance, a string of blood-soaked makeovers and grace-saturated melodies.  When we put too much on our plate, we often don’t understand at the time that we’re not going to be able to digest it all.  A seven-course dinner served on the silver platter of our own ambition means less than a single piece of bread blessed by the hand of God.

Consequently, I’ve also decided that I’m not in a position to continue this without an extended retreat of at least several months.  With that being said, as you might have already inferred, I’m suspending Water on Wednesday until further notice.  I can guarantee you that, if you’re reading this e-mail right now (and even if you’re not), it has absolutely nothing to do with you.  I love all of you dearly and, sometimes, the best thing we can do in the name of love is step aside and point each other to the cross.  So that’s what I’ll do, at least for now.  I’m not going to lie—I will miss this for a while, but God will have no competition.  I will have faith that He will use the absence of this to draw me closer into His presence and His desire for the remainder of my years on this planet.  But if He wants me to start this up again, then I will.  It’ll be His call, not mine.

But no matter what, this is not the end.  Even if I never wrote another tribute to God again, this is not the end.  God will still reign forever and we will still be His.  When we reach the end of our rope or the aftermath of a difficult situation, it’s easy to think, “It’s all over.”  No.  No, it’s not all over.  It’s all over when you’ve been called to your heavenly home and you are safely in the arms of your Father and you get to delight in Him forever—so, in a way, it will never be over.  May God be praised for that.

I’ve had my same Gmail e-mail [mrgraczyk@gmail.com] since 2004—trust me, it won’t be changing if I can help it; I will be more than happy to talk one-on-one with any of you, swap prayer requests, or engage in any other type of fellowship while on this hiatus.  Though I am taking a break from writing, it doesn’t change the truth: no matter what, God is still and will always be extraordinarily good.

I am humbled and beyond honored to have been used by God in this way over the past couple of years.  But for right now, I need to do more listening than talking.  The body of Christ is a circle, not a pyramid, and we’d better not climb anywhere for our own sake but only to see our Lord from a clearer view.

So until next time, remember that we all serve an awesome God.  Keep on loving and let God hoist your sails so you can travel across any ocean.  Cling to Jesus and all that He offers: His living water, His pure satisfaction.  May all of your prayers be heartfelt, may all of your flags be white, and may all of your horizons be beautiful.

Love in Christ,

–Mike

1. I have a predilection for words in my thesaurus (such as “predilection”) and for prime numbers (such as 47).

2. We should love each other as, to quote a friend of mine, “all-weather friends.”  Whether sunshine or snowstorm, we should weather life together.

3. Oswald Chambers: “The remarkable thing about fearing God is that when you fear God, you fear nothing else, whereas if you do not fear God, you fear everything else.”  (Reading the challenging My Utmost for His Highest is highly recommended).

4. Even doing math problems (will you cosine my loan?—sorry, I went off on a tangent) can be worshipful.  1 Corinthians 10:31: “So whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God.”

5. Capturing the flag can be painful, courtesy of that infamous metal fence, but it can be a great opportunity for fellowship.

6. Your head should be hard and your heart should be soft—not the other way around.

7. Another friend cameo: “If you think something is going in the wrong direction, pushing that in the completely opposite direction doesn’t necessarily make it right.”

8. Failing a test is not the end of the world—just the end of our false world that we can never make mistakes.

9. 1 Corinthians 13:1: “Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal.”  Love is the foundation on which every house must be built.

10. The Christian road can be a hard road—but it’s the only road that leads to life.

11. Cite your sources!  Give credit where credit is due (#10 was yet another friend cameo as well!).

12. We can’t always offer proof that God exists—but we can offer proof at how He’s worked in our lives and transformed us forever.  And “God is not a secret to be kept” (from Matthew 5:14, MSG).

13. When in doubt, guess C, a European capital, or a fraction greater than 1/4 but less than 5/7 whose numerator and denominator are relatively prime and sum to a perfect square.

14. Jesus doesn’t just want to nail my sin to the cross but my guilt as well.  I don’t think I’ve ever known anything quite as beautiful as raw, unwavering forgiveness.  (Apropos song recommendation: Don Henley’s “The Heart of the Matter”).

15. Proverbs 19:17: “Mercy to the needy is a loan to God—and God pays back those loans in full.”

16. An all-nighter is officially an all-nighter if a) you can see the sliver of sunlight break upon the horizon, b) your alarm goes off but you haven’t gone to bed yet, c) you decide to feed your goldfish before realizing you don’t have any goldfish, or d) you’re eating a breakfast burrito for dessert.

17. Probabilities can be conditional.  Love shouldn’t be.

18. Hebrews 13:2: “Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares” (a book of the Bible near and dear to my heart—check it out!).

19. Jesus fights for us when we’re too exhausted to do so.

20. If you gorge on every worldly feast imaginable, you will starve.

21. Home doesn’t have four walls, just the heart of a cherished person.

22. I’ll admit I don’t always know who’s a sheep and who’s a wolf.  I don’t have all the answers.  I don’t always understand what the future’s going to bring.  And that’s OK.  I’m not God.

23. T.S. Eliot’s “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” just keeps getting better with age.

24. Often I feel I am the most tired when I trying to overact my faith.  It’s the inanity of “-ianity,” Christianity without Christ.  I am meant to worship God, not the other way around.

25. Sometimes, tuna salad, a bowl of grapes, and a diet Snapple can be gourmet cuisine.  Whether the meal is an audacious T-bone steak or a humble ham salad sandwich, God still blesses the food and makes it holy.

26. Psalm 4:8: “In peace, I will lay down and sleep, for You alone, O Lord, will keep me safe.”  You might still be exposed to tremors—but you will also be simultaneously exposed to God.

27. The present-value of an annuity of 1 for n years at i% can be calculated by dividing the quantity of 1 minus the vⁿ factor by interest rate i, where v is the discount rate, equal to the reciprocal of 1 + i.

28. The devil may encourage you—but it’s out of hate.  God may rebuke you—but it’s out of love.

29. John 11:35: “Jesus wept.”  This can be the shortest verse—because the tears already speak thousands of words.

30. Even if you get lost in the library the first time you go there, it doesn’t mean you have to wait another six months before venturing inside its doors again (I speak from experience there).

31. We need food, faith, fellowship, and fun—and need to be ready to relax with your Creator.  As a friend I know says: If you’re too busy to spend time with God, then you’re too busy.

32. The greatest telescopes not only locate the faintest stars but do their best to help them shine a little more brightly.

33. Psalm 63:1: “O God, You are my God; earnestly, I seek You.  My soul thirsts for You—my body longs for You—in a dry and weary land where this is no water.”  Sometimes God will let us thirst so He can show us He can give us the rivers we need.

34. Alliteration adds absolutely amazing allure to almost any account or anecdote.

35. Another good friend’s teacher: “Every person you meet has something to teach you and you have something to teach everyone you meet.”  (Turns out you can learn stuff from other people’s classes as well!).

36. God doesn’t criticize you for facing the storm; He gladly provides you with shelter.

37. Using the word “inexplicability” in any context probably raises your IQ by at least ten points.

38. Galatians 6:2 (it’s one of my all-time favorite verses, I know): “Share each other’s troubles and problems and in this way obey the law of Christ.”  If we can’t open up, then we close down.

39. Evelyn Underhill: “If God were small enough to be understood, then He wouldn’t be big enough to be worshiped.”

40. The hardest scavenger hunts are those that require us to search inside ourselves.

41. Matthew 6:27: “Which of you by taking thought can add one cubit unto his stature?”  The only thing worrying adds to your life is, unsurprisingly, your worries.

42. The world doesn’t need to know that I’m a Christian.  The world needs to know Christ.

43. If Cinderella ever loses her glass slippers, I’m sure a pair of sneakers will fit just fine.

44. We disobey the Lord when we sin—but in a similar way, we do the same thing when we resist His the grace that He so desperately longs to give us.

45. If you’re looking to have an intimate retreat with just you and God, all you need is just you and God.

46. I’ve waded through a lot of swamplands since August 2006—we all probably have.  And here’s the test to see if some situation will permanently separate you from God.  1. Do you think this situation will permanently separate you from God?  2. Disregard question 1 altogether because the answer is an emphatic “Absolutely not!” (Romans 8:38-39!).

47. God is good.  Sometimes, it is that simple.

48. So we should keep your eyes open for signs of God’s wonderful grace, because it overflows just like this list.  Indeed, we’ll always learn more than we might first think.

So I’ve learned a lot, true—but I’ve still got a lot left to learn.  That’s how it always goes.  In fact, quite possibly the most outrageous lie I can possibly tell is that I have it all figured out.  I don’t.  And may God be praised for that.  The journey for myself—and for all of you—continues.  It might be uncertain, yes.  But what is certain is that God will be with you, no matter what you do or where you go.  You are His.  He wouldn’t have it any other way.

–Mike

Psalm 66:5: “Come and see what our God has done, what awesome miracles He performs for people!”

A couple of weeks ago, when I recounted the top 40 most commonly cited Bible verses, I was a little surprised to see one rather innocuous one at spot #30, from the Gospel of John: “On the third day, a wedding took place at Cana in Galilee.  Jesus’ mother was there” (John 2:1).  It seemed like a verse that relied heavily on the narrative to follow and, as many of you might already suspect, this is the scene where Jesus famously turned water into wine.  A postscript to the story illustrates its importance, “This miraculous sign at Cana in Galilee was the first time Jesus revealed His glory.  And His disciples believed in Him” (v11).

And so it was a miracle.  It varies, but the first use of the word in the Old Testament in both the King James and New International Version is Exodus 7:9.  Though not the first use of the word in the English Standard Version, the translation words that particular verse nicely: “‘When Pharaoh says to you, ‘Prove yourselves by working a miracle,’ then you shall say to Aaron, ‘Take your staff and cast it down before Pharaoh, that it may become a serpent’” (emphasis mine).

“Prove yourself” by working a miracle.  A miracle, then, is not only an amazing display of wonder—but it authenticates the source.  Even the end of the verse above says that “His disciples believe in Him.”  They didn’t just believe Him, period.  “OK, Jesus.  You turned water into wine.  This is definitely wine.  Nice job, I suppose.”  They believed in Him—and the context is greater than just this one act.  Believing something means you know it to be true.  Believing in something means you know what it means to you.  Jesus also began proving Himself to those around Him.

Jesus’ second miracle, perhaps less cited, occurs two chapters later in John 4 in the same town of Cana.  An officer there laments to Jesus about his sick son, who is about to die.  “Jesus asked, ‘Must I do miraculous signs and wonders before you people will believe in me?’” (v48).

Now naturally, we shouldn’t test God—and a miracle is not a guarantee that everyone will accept Jesus’ dominion as authoritative, seen only eight chapters later with John 12:37: “But despite all the miraculous signs Jesus had done, most of the people still did not believe in Him.”  So in John 4, Jesus acknowledges that miracles should not be instant bait to get our rebellious hearts to align with the majesty of God.  But they still have their place and Jesus heals the dying child, just with His words.  “Go back home,” He tells the man.  “Your son will live!” (v50b).

And he does.  But that’s not the end of the story—because these people would be an exception to that verse in John 12.  “And the officer and his entire household believed in Jesus.  This was Jesus’ second miraculous sign in Galilee after coming from Judea” (v53b-54).  Again, these people believe in Jesus—and Jesus’ actions become a springboard into these individuals tasting the true waters of His salvation.  Perhaps the miracle is not just that Jesus transforms beverages at a wedding or even the health of a child—but that he also transforms the dark hearts of men and women everywhere.

Because, on that note, I must tell you all that I have witnessed a miracle.  It’s not a sequel of water into wine, but it’s one that perhaps we all experience time and again.  It’s the miracle that lifts me out of the valley and untangles me from the dire wreckage, the painful memories, the sad mistakes.  It’s the miracle that gives us hope and opportunity, an unflinching beacon so fierce it will pierce the most impenetrable depths of our souls and renovate those rooms we never wanted anyone to visit.  It’s the miracle that supports me, the miracle that saves me, the miracle that soothes me, the miracle that satisfies me like nothing else I’ve ever known—and I’ve known plenty of empty wells to make that claim.  Maybe you have too.  One drop of poison corrupts—but one drop of the truth of this miracle restores me.  I am wounded but I am healing before I have a chance to protest it all.

The greatest miracle I have ever witnessed in my entire life is that, even after knowing every remaining ounce of darkness in my heart, Jesus still turns to me and says, “My child, how I love you.”

And He’s turning to you with the exact same message—not so He can sustain that darkness but so He can scatter it.

Because I know myself and Jesus knows me more than I know myself—so if I recognize some discretions against our holy God, imagine those I don’t!  I’ve denied like Peter, I’ve betrayed like Judas.  I’ve made sin my waltzing partner for far too long and still I return for the last dance.  And that’s often when Jesus steps in, hurt by the past but assured by the future over which He is sovereign: “I will wash away your guilt,” He says.  “I will take the mess you’ve made and help you rise above it.  Learn from Me, worship Me, commune with Me.  I long for you to.  Yes, you are broken.  But you’re also Mine.”

No more conditional love (not really love at all), no more bells and whistles.  My testimony rustles the leaves but Jesus silences the tumult altogether.  Does this mean I’ll never make another mistake for as long as I live?  No.  We don’t come to the cross in spite of grace but in recognition of it.  Indeed, the “greatest miracle” lasts a lifetime.

Galatians 3:5: “I ask you again, does God give you the Holy Spirit and work miracles among you because you obey the law?  Of course not!  It is because you believe the message you heard about Christ.”

Believe, my friends, that miracles still happen.  You just might be living proof.

–Mike

1. I’ll need them back by May 1, and

2. The semi-dreaded homestretch must be upon you.

If you’re in college like myself, then it’s that time of the year when the sun is shining and the birds are singing in three-part harmony and final examinations are calling your name in a delicate cadence and you can’t help but launch into study mode.  If you’re a senior like myself, then maybe the post-graduation job search has got you all befuddled like a celery stick in a river of chocolate or maybe you’ve got a class research paper with your name on it—unfortunately, that’s all you’ve got on it at the moment so you have a little more work to do.

It’s times like these when we need God the most, which might incidentally also be the times when we feel like seeking Him the least.  Last week, in all honesty, I wanted to be enshrouded in a cloud of dark nonchalance.  I wanted nothing to do with my Savior and didn’t even care that my faith seemed to hang precariously in the balance, suspended in some unknown solution.  I wanted to sleep.  I wanted God to wake me when every crease was ironed out, every thunderstorm was calmed.  And sometimes, when I do talk to God, it’s not as if I’m talking to God at all—another case of the brick wall syndrome.

The brick wall syndrome is relatively simple to explain.  It’s that feeling you get when you’re in communion with God, any of gentle conversations, emotional prayers, or agonizing questions.  And you’re talking to God from wherever you are and you know God is everywhere so God must be where you are.  If He is in heaven, then He is nearer than your next breath as well, latching on to every single word you say and even those that are just fleeting pictures in your mind.

But He doesn’t seem that close.  It seems like you’re talking to a brick wall.

And you want to be finished.  You want Jesus to come so these proverbial rough patches will fade away into morning.  You’re convulsing like electricity or a salmon on the shoreline, the last pulsations of energy sputtering out of you.  You don’t see God—just darkness, not just out of sin but out of your frustration and weakness.  You’re exhausted.  And you can’t go on talking to a brick wall.

Nor should you have to.  I think we can get into a dangerous mindset that God doesn’t love us unless we’re praying to Him—at least I can.  But God is undeniably present and He fights for us when we’re too tired to don the armor and fumble for our arrows.  “Be still and know that I am God!” He exclaims to us, a bold declaration of His omnipotence (Psalm 46:10a).  And, often, we’re not still, not because we haven’t chosen peace but because we’re wrestling with our own brokenness in a wild frenzy.  And at those times, there’s nothing left but the cross and the awe at what a sovereign God can do with our chaos.

I’ve been broken enough over sin before that I have come to the throne with nothing, absolutely nothing.  At first, that also includes the words out of my lips so I just sprawl before God in stunned silence, stunned that I could lacerate the Lover of my soul with my actions once again, stunned that He isn’t running away in the process.  And I have little energy left and so my prayer begins with the only word it possibly can: “Jesus.”  And then I repeat His name, over and over and over again.  It’s all I can do at that moment and all I want to do.

I heard a sermon on this last summer and read an article later that said a Christian’s day should be considered incomplete if he or she has not yet uttered the Redeemer’s name.  Until we ask for our daily bread, the Lord’s prayer is all about, well, the Lord: “After this manner therefore pray ye: Our Father which art in heaven, Hallowed be thy name.  Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven” (Matthew 6:9-10).

It begins with God.  And He certainly hears us: Psalm 116:1 says that “I love the Lord because He hears my voice and my prayer for mercy” (that entire Psalm explores this theme).  Even when it seems like we’re talking to a brick wall, we’re not.  God listens to our pleas, as gnarled as they might be, no matter what swamp we’ve slipped into, no matter what self-imposed fortress we’re hiding behind.  God is the fortress—so when it feels like you’re talking to a brick wall, don’t be tempted to build another three and seal yourself off from the One who cares about you.  After all, it’s futile—God is relentless in His pursuit of you so He’ll find you no matter what.  Wherever you go, there you are and there God is.

So if you’re in the thick of the final leg of the race and God seems distant or perhaps uncaring, I assure you He’s not.  He’s in control of your chariot regardless.  And when you’re sitting alone at night asking Him why you went spiraling off the track that afternoon, He’s there.  When you’re wondering why all of your emotions seem like they’re being puréed in a blender, He’s there.  When questions outweigh answers ten-to-one, He’s there.  No brick wall, no trail of tears, no season of your soul will you keep you from God.

And when all else fails, and you just can’t hold on to your rope anymore, feel free to let go.  After all, I’m pretty sure that’s just another opportunity to trust that Jesus will catch us.

–Mike

Given that these are the top 40, chances are you’ve probably heard most of them before in some way or another.  So my challenge for you (and me) this week is to really chew on these and think about what they mean to us and how we can apply them to our own lives.  Some might require examining the surrounding context; others might require a moment of meditation.  All are from God’s Word.  All are truth.

With that being said, let’s count this down!

40. Romans 1:16: “I am not ashamed of the Gospel, because it is the power of God that brings salvation to everyone who believes: first to the Jew, then to the Gentile.”

39. Genesis 1:27: “So God created human beings in His own image, in the image of God He created them; male and female He created them.”

38. Romans 5:1: “Therefore, since we have been justified through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ.”

37. Matthew 11:28: “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”

36. Romans 5:12: “Therefore, just as sin entered the world through one man, and death through sin, and in this way death came to all people, because all sinned.”

35. Ephesians 4:11: “So Christ Himself gave the apostles, the prophets, the evangelists, the pastors, and teachers.”

34. John 4:1: “Now Jesus learned that the Pharisees had heard that He was gaining and baptizing more disciples than John.”

33. John 14:1: “Do not let your hearts be troubled.  Trust in God; trust also in me.”

32. Romans 12:2: “Do not conform to the pattern of this world—but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.  Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—His good, pleasing, and perfect will.”

31. Titus 3:5: “He saved us, not because of righteous things we had done, but because of His mercy.  He saved us through the washing of rebirth and renewal by the Holy Spirit.”

30. John 2:1: “On the third day, a wedding took place at Cana in Galilee.  Jesus’ mother was there.”

29. Jeremiah 29:11: “‘For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the Lord, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.’”

28. Proverbs 3:5: “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding.”

27. Galatians 5:22: “But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness.”

26. John 3:1: “Now there was a Pharisee, a man named Nicodemus who was a member of the Jewish ruling council.”

25. Acts 2:42: “They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and to fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer.”

24. Acts 4:12: “Salvation is found in no one else [but Jesus Christ], for there is no other name given under heaven by which we must be saved.”

23. John 1:14: “The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us.  We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only Son, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.”

22. John 10:10: “The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.”

21. Mark 16:15: “He said to them, ‘Go into the world and preach the Gospel to all creation.’”

20. John 3:3: “Jesus replied, ‘Very truly I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God without being born again.’”

19. Matthew 28:18: “Then Jesus came to them and said, ‘All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me.’”

18. Romans 5:8: “But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.”

17. Romans 12:1: “Therefore, I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God—this is true worship.”

16. Genesis 1:26: “Then God said, ‘Let us make human beings in our image, in our likeness, so that they may rule over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky, over the livestock and all the wild animals, and over all the creatures that move along the ground.’”

15. John 1:9: “The true light that gives light to everyone was coming into the world.”

14. Romans 8:28: “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.”

13. John 1:12: “Yet to all who did receive him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God.”

12. Acts 2:38: “Peter replied, ‘Repent and be baptized, every one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins.  And you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit.’”

11. Romans 6:23: “For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

10. Romans 10:9: “If you declare with your mouth, ‘Jesus is Lord,’ and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved.”

9. 2 Timothy 3:16: “All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting, and training in righteousness.”

8. Acts 1:8: “But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witness in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.”

7. Genesis 1:1: “In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth.”

6. Ephesians 2:8: “For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves; it is the gift of God.”

5. Romans 3:23: “For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.”

4. Matthew 28:19: “Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.”

3. John 14:6: “Jesus answered, ‘I am the way and the truth and the life.  No one comes to the Father except through me.’”

2. John 1:1: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.”

And holding steady at #1:

1. John 3:16: “For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.”

And there we have it—meditate on God’s word this week and this DJ-in-training will see you again next week!

–Mike

And if I wanted to boost morale in all your weary bones, I might say something like the following: “We deserve to have Jesus die for us on the cross because we are morally righteous people and we’ve gotten 99% of God’s laws down and we only fall off the beaten path if a really shiny diamond of a temptation comes along.  Jesus knew this so He was willing to give us the extra 1% and say, ‘You’re just a stone’s throw from perfect and you haven’t rebelled that much anyway so I’ll go ahead and die a peaceful death for all of you and now we can do whatever we want.’”

But that would be a lie.

We deserve the cross.  We deserve to be nailed to it ourselves.

<><><>

When I first came to college and began to understand exactly what my sin was, I was struck with a case of tunnel vision.  Every time I considered my sin, I cherry-picked one thing and assumed it was the only thorn in my side.  “I struggle with lust.  But I’m perfect in every other area.”  “I’m dealing with anger issues.  But at least I still tithe.”  “I’ve been a little prideful lately.  But that’s not that bad and it’s not like I envy that really nice Bible that my friend has, the one with the leather cover and the illustrated maps and the expanded book introductions and the margins that would be really nice to write notes in about what a good person I am because I don’t envy.”

Every quick survey of my own life seemed to indicate that I just had one thorn in my side, not realizing I owned a thousand others.

It sounds terrible, but I can’t lie about who I was—and who the devil wants me to believe I still am.  For any one given sin alone, I completely deserve and actively earn the holy and righteous wrath of the living God.  “For whoever keeps the whole law and yet stumbles at just one point is guilty of breaking all of it” (James 2:10).  I deserve to be judged.  I deserve to be condemned.  I deserve to have my flesh pierced, my own blood seeping from my body and staining the tired earth below.  I deserve to have God turn His back on me and say, “You are permanently separated from Me.  There is no hope left for you.  There is shame, there is darkness, there is an everlasting abyss.”

And that all would happen were it not for the only man ever to walk this world that defied mathematical composition.  He was fully man and fully God.  He carried that cross Himself and then bled upon it out of nothing but the most sacrificial love you’re ever going to know.  He died, He rose again, He conquered death, He reigns today, His kingdom is glorious, He deserves every single “hallelujah” that could possibly fall from our lips, He is the high priest Himself: He is Jesus Christ, our Lord and Savior, who deserves unending praise and honor and glory!

But please don’t take this for granted.

This wasn’t a hypothetical.  God never said, “Jesus, My precious Son, if You were to be sacrificed on the cross, the sin of the universe would be atoned for—so we’ll just assume that all that happened.”  It wouldn’t work that way.  “Without the shedding of blood, there is no forgiveness” (Hebrews 9:22b).

When I was younger, I had a few childhood friends, who in all their naïveté, would occasionally say things like, “Oh, I’d certainly die for you.”  And I used to muse, “Could I really live knowing that someone valued me enough to die for me?”

But Jesus did.  Jesus had to die.  And now He lives victoriously.

<><><>

At the tender age of seven, I got my middle finger slammed in our car door in the grocery store parking lot.  I cried for five minutes as my parents comforted me with words and ice packs while we gallivanted through the frozen food aisle looking for something like butternut squash.  It was painful.  Earlier last semester, I was plagued with severe headaches for close to a month.  It felt like miniature jackhammers were pounding the back of my skull.  And those are just a couple of examples.

I want you to do the same right now.  I want you to imagine the most traumatizing pain, be it physical or emotional, that you’ve ever been in throughout your entire life.  Picture it.  Try to relive it.  Now I want you to try to envision a situation where the pain would be doubled, even tripled or quadrupled.  And I want you to imagine that throughout all that distress, a giant crown of thorns has been wedged atop your head.  You can hardly think and you want to cry out to somehow release the pain.  It’s safe to say that you’re suffering.

And yet the entire scene you just painted in your head is quite literally an exquisitely blissful paradise compared to what Jesus Christ endured for you and me on the cross.  Because in that above scenario, you were spared from one key thing you most certainly have actively deserved.  You were spared from the wrath of God.  You did not have to experience the punishment for your sins—nor for the sins of humanity.

Can you imagine it?  My brothers and sisters, can you actually attempt to picture what Jesus was facing on that cross?  Not just if you were there as a spectator—but if you were inside the head of Jesus.  Too often do we sacrifice the sacrifice and find our identity in the DNA of Judas.  His fate?  Racked by what he’s done, he kills himself at the beginning of Matthew 27 (the last two chapters of Matthew are also perfect Easter weekend reading).

We rebelled.  Our sin kept Him nailed to that cross until it was all over.  And still Jesus begs us to come to Him.

And why?  Because more than just Jesus died on that cross—we did as well.  Our old former selves no longer exist:

“My old self has been crucified with Christ.  It is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me.  So I live in this earthly body by trusting in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.  I do not treat the grace of God as meaningless.  For if keeping the law could make us right with God, then there was no need for Christ to die” (Galatians 2:20-21).

The law could not make us right with God.  Once again, Jesus had to die.  And so did our old selves—only by His grace.  We deserve the cross—but we didn’t get it.  And the only alternative is the truth: that we shall live, here on Earth and eternally as well.  If nothing else in your life seems to be shipshape as Sunday rolls around, may you still be able to rejoice in God for that.

Have a blessed Easter, everyone!

–Mike

But I think this phrase is appropriate because of how diluted our language can become.  I’m guilty of using the word “awesome” to a fault in describing anything from my midnight snack of a bean burrito (followed by a dessert of Mylanta) to half-off day at the local Goodwill.  There’s nothing inherently wrong in either of those things—but do they literally inspire awe?  Do they literally fill me up with an impending sense of fear or majesty, the kind that makes my knees buckle and my heart skip a beat or two yet recover just in time, the kind that makes me realize that I have been embraced in my weakness and now I’m redeemed, the kind that makes me fall facedown and whisper, “Jesus, I am not worthy—but You are and I worship You”?
Likely not.  So how awesome can those things be, especially when my dictionary defines the concept of awe as “profound and reverent dread of the supernatural” followed by “respectful fear inspired by authority”?  Now I might be splitting hairs here, but I think—as basic as it sounds—that if we actually did slow down the carousel we love to ride and actually meditate on Jesus and all He’s ever done for us and will continue to do, then we will see indeed how “astonishingly good” he is.  And that was foretold before He even set foot on this Earth.  I rarely quote entire chapters of the Bible—but this one’s too good not to.  A prophecy of our beautiful Savior can be found in Isaiah 53 (all verses, 1-12, emphasis mine):

“Who has believed our message?
To whom has the Lord revealed his powerful arm?
My servant grew up in the Lord’s presence like a tender green shoot,
like a root in dry ground.
There was nothing beautiful or majestic about his appearance,
nothing to attract us to him.
He was despised and rejected—
a man of sorrows, acquainted with deepest grief.
We turned our backs on him and looked the other way.
He was despised, and we did not care.

Yet it was our weaknesses he carried;
it was our sorrows that weighed him down.
And we thought his troubles were a punishment from God,
a punishment for his own sins!
But he was pierced for our rebellion,
crushed for our sins.
He was beaten so we could be whole.
He was whipped so we could be healed.
All of us, like sheep, have strayed away.
We have left God’s paths to follow our own.
Yet the Lord laid on him
the sins of us all.

He was oppressed and treated harshly,
yet he never said a word.
He was led like a lamb to the slaughter.
And as a sheep is silent before the shearers,
he did not open his mouth.
Unjustly condemned,
he was led away.
No one cared that he died without descendants,
that his life was cut short in midstream.
But he was struck down
for the rebellion of my people.
He had done no wrong
and had never deceived anyone.
But he was buried like a criminal;
he was put in a rich man’s grave.

But it was the Lord’s good plan to crush him
and cause him grief.
Yet when his life is made an offering for sin,
he will have many descendants.
He will enjoy a long life,
and the Lord’s good plan will prosper in his hands.
When he sees all that is accomplished by his anguish,
he will be satisfied.
And because of his experience,
my righteous servant will make it possible
for many to be counted righteous,
for he will bear all their sins.
I will give him the honors of a victorious soldier,
because he exposed himself to death.
He was counted among the rebels.
He bore the sins of many and interceded for rebels.”

I could annotate the above passage in painstaking detail—and I don’t have enough space in this e-mail to do so (even the Gospel of John would agree: its very last verse, John 21:25, is: “Jesus also did many other things. If they were all written down, I suppose the whole world could not contain the books that would be written”).  Here are three that struck me, which I’ve bolded above.

1. “He was despised and we did not care.”  It’s not very far from the truth to say that you and I were once murderers because we helped kill Jesus.  One of the most painful scenes in the Gospel of Mark is right before Jesus’ crucifixion when the soldiers taunt Him and “[drop] to their knees in mock worship” (Mark 15:19).  Why is it painful?  Not only because it hurts to see our Savior crushed—but we realize in the process that, had we been there, we probably would have done the exact same thing.

2. “He was led like a lamb to the slaughter.”  An alternate definition of the word “lamb” in my dictionary (a second cameo) says “an innocent or gentle person.”  Jesus isn’t just “astonishingly good” now—He was astonishingly good when He walked this planet.  And still the entire time He dealt with people not believing who He was, scholars confused with His teachings, Pharisees trying to trap Him at every possible move, and plenty of other wanderers with pieces of Judas within them.  The only perfectly holy person ever born on Earth…

3. “He was counted among the rebels.”  …and yet He was slaughtered, all for us.  Not because we were good like He was and is.  We strayed from the covenant an innumerable amount of times.  We spit in His face.  We were rebels.  We crucified Him—and He loved us in return.  In fact, the love of God is the only thing that makes our salvation conceivable.  Jesus Christ was transformed into the thing He most hated in order to save those He most loved.

And so I have a challenge for you all (emphasis certainly mine).  I know for certain that Jesus went out like a lamb.  Proverbially, so does March—but with all the chaos on my end, I’m beginning to doubt that idiom.  Even so—regardless of what’s on your agenda—my challenge for you is to, by the end of this month, meditate on Isaiah 53 and do whatever else you choose to understand how astonishingly good Jesus is for at least sixty consecutive minutes.  Worship Him through silent—or vocal—prayer.  Sing His praises.  Whisper His name in adoration.  Allow yourself to be guided by Him, to be rebuked by Him (He rebukes those He loves!).  Lose yourself in the raw power of mercy and forgiveness.  Do whatever the Spirit calls you to do.  And, yes, that is a challenge because the world will try to throw other lightning bolts your way and all other kinds of weather to distract you from your true identity.

No matter what, my brothers and sisters, remember that you are Christ’s and—after everything we’ve done to Him—He still died for us.  And now we live.  He is astonishingly good, indeed.

–Mike

I guess I’d wake up somewhere around that point.

I realized the irrationality of that dream somewhere down the line—and I had an about-face and soon became enamored with the cute little creatures.  My heart melts whenever I see one scurrying along the sidewalk; I want to watch it hoard its acorns under the giant oak tree, name it Charlie, remind the creature that it’s God’s creation.  Then I make a sound and it leaps away from my presence.  Frightened, misunderstood.

My episodes with squirrels, more or less, were false positives.  I lived.  But unfortunately, back in Eden, Adam and Eve stumbled upon one monumentally catastrophic false negative, catalyzed not by a squirrel but by a snake.  They believed they didn’t need God.

We all know Genesis 3 well, perhaps too well, and the extrapolations of the incident with the fruit begin immediately with our own lives.  It’s a giant temptation for me to type something moderately esoteric and allusive such as, “And we all have our own juicy apples we bite into unknowingly that lead to our destruction, that force us to search for fig leaves in the desolate aftermath.”  And I just did.

But before we look at the sin, we need to look at the serpent, Satan in disguise.  Genesis 3:1 calls the serpent “more crafty than any of the wild animals the Lord God had made.”  You want to defeat the enemy?  You have to know how he works.  Here’s the serpent in action, right after Eve begins to resist his advances:

“‘You won’t die!’ the serpent replied to the woman.  ‘God knows that your eyes will be opened as soon as you eat it, and you will be like God, knowing both good and evil.’  The woman was convinced.  She saw that the tree was beautiful and its fruit looked delicious, and she wanted the wisdom it would give her” (Genesis 3:4-6a).

We can deduce at least three things from the above verse.

1. What convinces us the most is anything that appeals to the doctrine of self, the fact that something we could do (such as eat the apple) would allow us to be like God.  I wrote a couple weeks ago on wanting to be like God—but wanting to be like God for the wrong reasons, for our own selfish pursuits, for our tendency to buckle under obedience.

2. What looks beautiful at the time could just as quickly poison us.  Eve was convinced in our narrative—and she would have been less convinced had she considered the consequences.  I recently read a good quote that fits this: “Sin: It seemed like a good idea at the time.”  And when we indulge in the fantasy that sin will somehow satisfy us, we fulfill the inextricably simultaneous fantasy that God cannot.  And the biggest lie I could tell any of you is that God cannot satisfy.  Not only does He satisfy, He is the only entity that fully can.

3. What harms us is not our desire but what we desire.  Yes, we should long for wisdom—but too often we try to drink that wisdom from empty wells or polluted rivers that God explicitly told us to stay away from.  And it is the devil’s job to make us believe that these polluted rivers are clean or, at the very least, that we are immune to their contamination.  It is the devil’s job to make us believe the raging untruth that we don’t need God.

But the truth of the matter is that the fruit of the tree doesn’t make us like God—it is the fruit of the Spirit that propels us toward holiness, fruit only given through Christ: “When you follow the desires of your sinful nature, the results are very clear: sexual immorality, impurity, lustful pleasures, idolatry, sorcery, hostility, quarreling, jealousy, outbursts of anger, selfish ambition, dissension, division, envy, drunkenness, wild parties, and other sins like these. Let me tell you again, as I have before, that anyone living that sort of life will not inherit the Kingdom of God.  But the Holy Spirit produces this kind of fruit in our lives: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. There is no law against these things!” (Galatians 5:19-23).

Thus, we must hold fast to God for our wisdom and understand that, next to Him, even the most radiant gemstones rust with the stains of worldliness.  And how we surely need the blazing ray of hope named Jesus because the serpent is crafty and invariably hisses in our ear that we can do it on our own and that we don’t really need God, a flimsy declaration, an absolute falsehood.

So as you continuing walking with God, remember that Adam and Eve no longer hold your identity.  The cross does:

“For the sin of this one man, Adam, caused death to rule over many.  But even greater is God’s wonderful grace and his gift of righteousness, for all who receive it will live in triumph over sin and death through this one man, Jesus Christ.  Yes, Adam’s one sin brings condemnation for everyone, but Christ’s one act of righteousness brings a right relationship with God and new life for everyone” (Romans 5:17-18).

No, my brothers and sisters.  You were never meant to chew the apple.  You were always meant to feast on the redemptive righteousness of the Lord.

Legend says that St. Patrick drove the snakes out of Ireland—but He probably didn’t.  The Bible says that God drove the snakes out of Eden and out of our lives through Christ—and He certainly did.  Rest in that glorious truth and if venom ever touches you, all is not lost…because the blood of Jesus is the salve that always cures.  In Him,

–Mike

“But while knowledge makes us feel important, it is love that strengthens the church. Anyone who claims to know all the answers doesn’t really know very much” (1 Corinthians 8:1b-2).

I love guava juice and dark chocolate, preferably not together. You might not. In fact, you might prefer blueberry smoothies and licorice. And so we reach a disagreement. There’s nothing inherently wrong in that; we just have different tastes. You order the #3 combo, I’ll order the #9. We’ll both get our makeshift meals in a jiffy and move on with our lives.

But let’s say we ramp up the disagreements onto a theological scale. Let’s say I tell you that I believe that prayer in all circumstances, no matter what, must be prefaced with direct praise to God in order to be effective. Under no circumstances, or so I’m saying in this scenario, should you simply say, “God, please [insert prayer request here, spoken in a semi-eloquent but still humble manner].” You, on the other hand, beg to differ. “What about if you’re stranded on a deserted island scrounging for food or trembling down a dark boulevard on a particularly spooky night or you just got a phone call that your brother’s in the hospital? If I go to God at that very moment and cry out to Him to help, aren’t I placing my trust in Him from the beginning? Don’t I recognize the importance of His immediate role in the situation—and isn’t that a form of worship anyway?”

And so you have a point. And there are other more intricate discussions too. What type of church government is best? How accurate is Calvinism? Is it necessary that I get baptized—if so, must it be by immersion? Are there any exceptions to tithing 10%? Pre-destination, free will, both, or neither? It’s safe to say that, even within the body of Christ, there are bound to be disagreements, pertinent at best and cataclysmic at worst.

This past summer, I became frustratingly flustered (say that five times fast—or not) as I encountered an increasingly contradictory number of Biblical commentaries and teachings. “Well, wait—I was with him until his fourth point—but now I’m confused. And does that negate the first three points as well?” “Sure, this is quoting the Bible—but is it taking it out of context? Or am I just uncomfortable with what could be the truth?” “Now if this is true, then I’m not attending the right church.” And so forth. It almost became dizzying walking into a bookstore, difficult enough anyway since it’s a stern reminder of all the books I’ll never have time to read, knowing that it was highly possible that two books on theology—possibly even next to each other on the shelf!—had within them completely contrasting views on certain Christian doctrine, even in context.

The more I pondered, the more I questioned, the more my head spun like a slot machine on steroids. It was tough.

And I was—and to an extent, still am—in search for the complete view. And the more I know, sometimes it seems like the more I don’t know. It’s like trying to solve an incomplete jigsaw, a puzzle with extra pieces, missing pieces, deformed pieces—without even knowing what the end picture is supposed to look like. You know how it goes. “That shade of blue could be the sky, the ocean, an elegant dress—or maybe not even anything at all.” Sometimes, I just don’t see the perfect fit. And at the first glance? Yes, that bothers me, maybe a bit more than it should. But apparently disagreements are nothing new. In fact, they were going on long before all of us walked this Earth:

“I appeal to you, brothers, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that all of you agree with one another so that there may be no divisions among you and that you may be perfectly united in mind and thought. My brothers, some from Chloe’s household have informed me that there are quarrels among you. What I mean is this: One of you says, ‘I follow Paul’; another, ‘I follow Apollos’; another, ‘I follow Cephas’; still another, ‘I follow Christ.’ Is Christ divided? Was Paul crucified for you? Were you baptized into the name of Paul? I am thankful that I did not baptize any of you except Crispus and Gaius, so no one can say that you were baptized into my name” (1 Corinthians 1:10-15).

Say what you want about Rob Bell. Say what you want about anybody, actually—we’ve all got chances to carve our own pulpits. Bell says in the back cover of one of his books: “God has spoken—the rest is just commentary.” How true. I can’t validly say that absolute truth deserves a relativistic coating, because it doesn’t. But it does mean that amidst the worship services and the book groups, the tea parties and the late nights, the apologetics and the testimonies, it’s possible we’ll still have disagreements. And maybe that’s fine. For as the introductory verse to this WOW references, “love…strengthens the church.” If I don’t have a robust love for both God and every single one of you, even if I’ve never met you, then my midnight musings just float up to meet the moon like worthless smoke rings in the air. Meaningless. We all know the famous verse; then I’d bang like a gong, interminably.

So if God provides infinite grace, I’d like to think that all of us need some of that grace in even attempting to understand Him. For all we write and think about God, it’s very likely that some of our observations miss the mark completely. And you know what? That’s bound to happen. We’re human. It doesn’t mean we shouldn’t pursue truth at all costs. But as Jesus is so named “Faithful and True” (Revelation 19:11) to begin with, then perhaps pursuing Him is pursuing truth. And that’s a good thing. He will mediate our conflicts, He will cradle our questions, He will one day unify us all.

Until then, no, we might not always share the same views. But through it all, through every hill and valley and geographical formation in-between, we’re still covered with the same blood. And that’s what matters in the end.

Have a blessed start to March, everyone. May God’s radiant love be a piece never missing from your puzzles,

–Mike

I know that seems worthy of the “Obvious Statement of 2010 Award.”  I can barely remember where I place my dorm keys half the time so I highly doubt I’ll be creating something as monumental as night and day anytime soon.  But—though that seems like a no-brainer on the surface—let’s take a quick peek into a random hypothetical week of mine, less hypothetical than I’d like to always admit, to see how I unfortunately like to “play God.”

Wednesday evening, en route to Bible study.  I see a couple of people talking in muffled whispers behind the food court in which I grab dinner.  Their silhouettes drift like mystery on the brick wall.  I immediately assume that because I don’t know them and because they’re shielding secrets, they must be terrible people.  “Let’s see how I can judge them.  How dare these renegades convene under this treacherous night sky.”  They might be talking about homework.  They might even be discussing Scripture and waiting for a ride to Bible study themselves.  I have played God.

Sunday afternoon, a quick check of my e-mail with no pending deadlines when I should be immersed in a Sabbath from technology and my own shiny delights.  An e-mail from a friend summarizes a recent situation that has cropped up in his life and he thanks me for all of my prayers and support.  My first thoughts dance around in my head like wildfire.  “He’d better thank me for those prayers.  They’re the only thing that’s going to thrust him out of this turmoil.  In fact, I’m the best friend ever.  I’m his provider, I’m his strength, I’m his savior, I’m the only one he needs.”  I have played God.

Tuesday morning, twisting and turning in my sea of covers, drowning out imaginary roosters in my head.  I suddenly think of the appointment I have with my thesis advisor later that afternoon.  I’ll be showing him some of my poetry and my ears tend to pivot toward his praise.  It’s OK to create.  But when I place my creation over God’s, which I so often do, I try to drown out a harmonious melody with crackling white noise.  I have played God.

Thursday night, walking home from a worship service.  Elton’s “Philadelphia Freedom” has just finished on my iPod and the next song just happens to be “How He Loves.”  And I adore the imagery about being “a tree bending beneath the weight of His wind and mercy.”  So I start singing to myself.  “I know all the words,” I muse.  “Yes!  That’s awesome.  In fact, that’s so awesome that that must be what saves me.  I probably still need the cross but it’s OK if it’s minimized somewhat since God must love my vocal ability enough to want to save me.”  I am pretending I am the author of salvation.  I have played God.

You get the picture.

This is a constant struggle for me, mainly because I am a human and I breathe.  I think everything under the sun and some things under the moon must be for my glory and aren’t I so wonderful and, before long, I think I can set the planets in motion and part the Red Sea—and Lake Michigan just for good measure.  It’s more than just a run-in with pride.  It’s believing I deserve such pride because of my unopened suitcase of accolades that really just holds a bunch of fool’s gold.

In fact, here are some Bible verses to complement each of the above four situations, respectively:

On…judging others: “If you criticize and judge each other, then you are criticizing and judging God’s law.  But your job is to obey the law, not to judge whether it applies to you.  God alone, who gave the law, is the Judge.  He alone has the power to save or to destroy.  So what right do you have to judge your neighbor?” (James 4:11b-12).

On…our own strength: “For the foolishness of God is wiser than man’s wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than man’s strength” (1 Corinthians 1:25).

On…the nature of creation: “What good is an idol carved by man, or a cast image that deceives you?  How foolish to trust in your own creation—a god that can’t even talk!” (Habakkuk 2:18).

On…the essence of salvation: “Salvation is not a reward for the good things we have done, so none of us can boast about it” (Ephesians 2:9; I used this early last year—but it’s too fitting not to repeat).

I think it’s safe to say that there’s no possible way we can play God when He alone is the one who provides, upholds, and buys us back out of the whirlwind of sin.  John Piper might have put it best: “Let us not play the fool by trumpeting a tiny chirp and ignoring the thunderclap of omniscience.”

There’s a song by a little-known Christian band called Crossway that’s interestingly titled “Thank God I’m Not Jesus.”  Here’s are the lyrics:

“Thank God I’m not Jesus ‘cause if I were

You’d all be walking around guilty, still under the curse

And if I were Him, I’d never let anyone put me down

I’d broadcast my healings all over town

Make sure my name was getting around

But thank God I’m not Jesus ‘cause I’d claim my rights

Protest the stable and manger with a scream and a whine

And if I were Him, I’d point out my mother’s smallest mistakes

Then sit back and watch as her heart breaks

Knowing there’s nothing that she can say

Thank God I’m not Jesus, oh thank God

Thank God I’m not Jesus ‘cause I’d choose the twelve

Turn away all of those fishermen for those with power and wealth

And if I were Him, I’d probably make friends with the Pharisees

Turn a blind eye to the least of these, cast the first stone at the guilty

Thank God I’m not Jesus ‘cause if they said that I’d sinned

I’d plead my case in the courtroom and make sure I’d win

And if on the cross, I’d call down a legion of angels

Do anything just to save myself, let the whole world just go to Hell

Thank God I’m not Jesus.”

We are called to be like God, absolutely—and one day “we will be like [Jesus]” when He appears in fullness (1 John 3:2).  But if we were God with our own human capacities, we would plummet faster than a rock in the ocean.  Our sin would entangle our good intentions, probably laced with ulterior motives to begin with, and we’d finish washed up on the shore at best.

So let’s trust in the Captain instead.

I guess I’m not God.  And I’m guessing you’re not either.  Thank God.  As much as we try to always get it right, our own human limitations get in the way.  And that’s when He carries us and makes amends.  Indeed there is a God who always knows what’s best and will remain with us always.  I’m not that God—and neither are you—but let us praise that God and enter into a relationship with Him with everything we have.

Have a fantastic finish to your February!

–Mike