Better Than Light and Safer Than a Known Way

Almost fifteen years ago, a pastor at a church I was visiting quoted a few lines from a poem. While the precise wording faded from my memory over time, the message did not.  I was reminded of the quote a few nights ago, and decided to look for the entire poem online. I liked it so much,  I thought I'd share it with you.

When faced with the loss, disappointment, danger, and sorrow that is inevitable in this world, I often deceive myself into thinking that if I could know what lies ahead, I could somehow avoid difficulty, pain, and unpleasantness. I can't, however, and this uncertainty and feeling of helplessness is at the heart of all my worldly fears and anxieties.

The only answer for me is to place my trust in the One who not only knows the future, but is sovereign over it. Though my hand may tremble when I reach out into the darkness, I have learned enough of God to trust that walking with Him is "better than light and safer than a known way."

Trading Guilt For Grace

Before I began to understand grace, I viewed the directives in God's Word as a list of To-Dos and To-Don'ts. Grateful that God had provided a Savior, I earnestly wanted to please Him and show how much I appreciated Christ's sacrifice. I so wanted to be "good," and embarked on a crusade to win God's favor.

When I faced inevitable failure, I responded with a myriad of unpleasant thoughts and reactions, including:

• Resentment: "Why did God make me this way? Why can't I be more like...?"
• Rejection: "God's expectations are too high."
• Revision: "Maybe I'm taking God's Word too seriously. Maybe this isn't even a sin."
• Running: "If I talk to God, I'm going to have to admit I've failed, so I'm not going to talk Him."
• Rehabilitation: "I'm going to try harder."
• Resignation: "This is hopeless. I may as well give up."
• Run-down: "I'm exhausted from trying so hard, and I can't do this anymore."
• Rebellion: "It is impossible to please God, so I'm going to sin anyway."

While my responses varied, the end result was always the same: remorse. I was mired in guilt, and while guilt may influence our behavior, it doesn't change our heart. When I viewed God's Word as an insurmountable list of rules, it seemed as if all of Scripture pointed to my flaws and set me up for repeated failure. No matter how much I wanted to please God, it was difficult for me to muster the enthusiasm to carry on in the face of such futility. Guilt is a terrible motivator. 

How Much Jesus Do You Want?

As soon as I spied the enormous wafer among the smaller pieces in the communion plate, I knew which one my son would take. It was a good four of five times bigger than all the other pieces, and Zack didn't hesitate a moment before selecting the Saltine-sized representation of the broken body of his Savior.

I don't have any illusions regarding his motivation. I'm sure it was simple 10-year-old boy philosophy: why have a little when you can have a lot? However, in that moment, that simple philosophy begged the question, "how much Jesus do I want?"

Do I want just enough of the gospel to be comfortable, or does the reality of the gospel give me the strength to fearlessly follow Him, and persevere even when it's difficult? Do I want to chase after my own agenda and attempt to control everything, or do I trust Him enough to abide in Him and allow Him to work through me?

Talk Back Tuesday: Sermon Podcasts

I love technology. I know, I know, it doesn't always cooperate, it can be a time waster and a distraction, and our near-constant access to the digital universe has raised our expectations of productivity, making us busier than ever. Certainly, being perpetually plugged in has its drawbacks, but like money or cars or sharp knives, technology is simply a tool. It’s up to us to use it wisely, so I try to make it work for me instead of the other way around.

One of my favorite ways to do so is to listen to sermon podcasts. Like you, I juggle a potpourri of responsibilities and activities, and the busier I am, the more I need a fresh supply of God's truth during the week. I usually listen while driving to work or when I’m walking. I love having so many great sermons at my fingertips, and the ability to pause or replay portions later comes in handy since scribbling notes while driving is usually not a good idea. Another bonus is that my son often listens with me when we’re in the car, and sometimes the sermons spark great conversations between us.

Mr. Know-it-All

When our son was four years old, we bought him a shirt that read, "Mr. Know-It-All." He didn't get the joke. I still remember chuckling at his self-satisfied reflection in the mirror when I told him what the shirt said. "At last," he seemed to be thinking, "the recognition I deserve." Kindergarten may have tempered his know-it-all notions a little, but by the middle of first grade, he was trying to convince me to let him quit school because he "had already learned everything" he "needed to know." After all, he argued, he had learned how to read, write, and do math, what else could there be?

As he's gotten older, the particulars of our debates may have changed, but his steadfast dedication to his own point of view and propensity for passionately arguing his case have remained constant. I don't expect it will change as he enters his teenage years. As long as he states his opinions and objections respectfully, I welcome the opportunity to talk things through with him and lovingly teach him that he does not, in fact, know everything.