The one who is not with Me is against Me; and the one who does not gather with Me scatters.  

Luke 11:23

Life is full of compromise and gray areas. In our families, at work, in the marketplace—we give a little, take a little, and typically do what it takes to make relationships and situations go smoothly. Generally speaking, this is a very good thing. Finding “middle ground” allows a group of people to effectively decide what laws to pass, how to proceed on a business deal, or where to go to dinner.

The average adult makes about 35,000 conscious decisions each and every day. Most are definitive and are within our sole prerogative. But thousands of these likely involve taking others needs and wants into consideration—hopefully. Christ followers, in particular, are called to act without selfish ambition or conceit, counting others more significant than ourselves and to look out for the interest of others (Philippians 2). Again, seeking the good of our neighbor (1 Corinthians 10:24) and loving others as Christ loves us (John 13:24), is a high calling that requires us to give up our desires and give in to others. So, navigating our days, weeks, months, and years is all about balancing “me” and “you” and “us”—walking in that middle ground in most things. (More of our society used to embrace this concept, and culture was so much more civil…oh, the good ol’ days of the early 2000s…)

All this being said, when it comes to the person of Jesus Christ, we actually hear this gray-area thinking a lot: “Jesus was a great teacher, but He wasn’t God.” (In fact, a Ligonier Ministries survey in 2020 found that one-third of professing evangelicals agreed that Jesus isn’t God.) People will say they admire Him and would like to live according to His teaching…when it fits in with their own wants and desires. Christians and non-Christians alike, pick and choose from God’s Word, constructing for themselves a Book of Compromise and Grayness. 

Although there are some theological themes from the Bible that are a bit “gray” and have been debated since the Church began two thousand years ago, these are all non-essentials to the Person and Work of Jesus Christ. God’s Word, dear friend, is black and white on the fact that Jesus is the Son of God. He came to earth fully God and fully Man to live a perfect life and die the death we deserve, paying the penalty for our sin. With His resurrection—which we celebrate this Sunday—He defeated Satan and death, giving us victory and exchanging our unrighteousness for His righteousness. He is the Way, the Truth, and the Life, and no one comes to the Father but through Him (John 14:6). 

In fact, through Jesus’ ministry, He asserted the Truth of who His is, why He lived, and why He died and rose again. So, to claim He was merely a “great teacher” is truly bizarre! He’d have to be a liar, delusional, or insane. (Why would you follow an insane teacher?)

What is the bottom line here? There is no middle ground with Jesus Christ. You are either for Him or against Him (Luke 11:23; Matthew 12:30). You either believe He is who He says He is and did what He said He’d do…or you don’t. You love Him or hate Him. You are His friend or His enemy. There’s a great verse from Joshua, as he’s talking with the Israelites (who were full of compromise on God’s instructions)—it’s one of those pillow-stitched and wall-décor verses, and it is a good one. The paraphrase is this: If it’s evil in your eyes to serve the Lord, choose this day whom you will serve (Joshua 24:15). So, friend, I’m asking you now, as Resurrection Day quickly approaches, to consider whom youwill choose. Which side are you on? There is no middle ground. Will you accept Jesus as your Lord and Savior or reject Him?

Father God, I pray that the Holy Spirit move within those who have not yet chosen to follow Jesus, that they move from either doubt or rejection to accepting the free gift of salvation.

“When your children ask their fathers in time to come, saying, ‘What are these stones?’ then you shall inform your children, saying, ‘Israel crossed this Jordan on dry ground.’ For the Lord your God dried up the waters of the Jordan before you until you had crossed, just as the Lord your God had done to the Red Sea, which He dried up before us until we had crossed; that all the peoples of the earth may know that the hand of the Lord is mighty, so that you may fear the Lord your God forever.”

Joshua 4:21-24

After reading in Exodus about the dramatic and miraculous redemption of the Jewish people out of Egypt, you hit the next four books written by Moses: Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy. Amid the laws and lists, there is the often-frustrating saga of the desert travels and how the Israelites so quickly forget the miracles (and very presence) of the Lord only to whine, gripe, and complain. We read how when they first got to the Promised Land’s border and 12 spies were sent to scope it all out, that 10 guys came back shaking in their sandals. Only Joshua and Caleb remembered that this was land promised to them by the Lord—so it already belonged to them. That’s when their 40-year wandering began, and that entire generation—except Joshua and Caleb—died in the desert as a consequence of their disobedience. 

So, I just love the first four chapters of the book of Joshua when it’s time for the next-gen 12 tribes to take what’s theirs under Joshua’s leadership (even though it’s sad that Moses can’t experience this particular victory). There’s a lot of depth to explore (cue the events with Rahab the harlot and the spies, for instance), but let’s focus on chapters 3 and 4. It’s time to cross over the Jordan River, and God ends the Israelites’ Exodus journey the same way He started it: by drying up a body of water so the people can walk through it to the other side. After everyone had safely crossed, the Lord told Joshua to set up 12 stones as a memorial of everything God had done for His people—from drying up the Red Sea to drying up the Jordan…and all the miracles in between. 

Why? So, when future generations asked, “What are these stones all about, Dad?” then they could be told and retold, “Because God miraculously rescued us!” The stones were there as a remembrance of the Lord’s miracles: delivering them out of slavery in Egypt (as the Egyptians handed over tons of gold and silver), feeding them food from heaven, quenching their thirst with water from a stone, never having their shoes wear out through 40 years of desert walking…and, of course, guiding them with His very presence by day and by night. (Again, so much to unpack there, but let’s get to the point du jour.)

What about you? Do you rehearse God’s miracles in your own life? Do you talk about, journal, or even set up monuments rehearsing all that the Lord has done for you? From our own redemption at the moment of salvation to provision to quenched thirst to God’s very presence in front of us and behind us…we all have a trail of miracles. Do we tell our friends, our children, our children’s children? Most importantly, do we remind ourselves of who God is—His grace, His mercy, His relentless faithfulness? If you haven’t made it a thing in your life, start today. Tell yourself and others of His Greatness, so “all the peoples of the earth may know that the hand of the LORD is mighty, so that you may fear the LORD your God forever” (Joshua 4:24).

Heavenly Father, thank You for the miracles all around us—from Your breath in our lungs to each sunrise to protection, health, provision. May we share the wonders of Your love with others…and remind ourselves of your faithfulness.

Shout joyfully to the Lord, all the earth. Serve the Lord with gladness; Come before Him with joyful singing.

Psalm 100:1-2

Do you ever stop to consider the amazing fact that, as believers, we are privileged to enter into the very throne room of God? Because Jesus made a way of reconciliation for us, exchanging our filthy rags for His righteousness, there is no longer an impassible chasm. We can come before the Lord with our thankfulness, our petitions, our fears, our brokenness. It’s truly mind-blowing when you let it sink in.

But there are times when we might feel far from God. Maybe we’ve turned to some other idol—a person, a substance, an activity—to fill a soul-hole. Maybe we’re frustrated because a prayer is not being answered when and how we want it to be, so we—like a spoiled toddler—cross our arms and turn our backs on our gracious and loving Father. Whatever the reason for this perceived disconnect, the Bible gives us clear direction as to how to enter into God’s presence. 

The Psalms are so beautiful, and they capture pretty much every emotional and spiritual experience we can go through. David’s, in particular, express much of what we go through…but he always turns his focus back to God’s sovereignty, power, holiness, grace, and justice. Psalm 100 (which isn’t explicitly written by David), is a lovely reminder of who God is—and, based on that, we’re to be thankful. But it’s the second verse that highlights a super-cool duality of worship.

“Come before Him with joyful singing.” This simple statement can actually be read in two ways, each of which deliver a powerful truth. First, the meaning can be: “When you come into the presence of the Lord, do so with joyful singing.” This totally makes sense, right? When we consider God in His magnificence, it’s a logical response to burst out in joyful song! (Which, by the way, we can now only dimly experience, but one day we’ll see Him in all His glory—and, oh, I can only imagine those songs!) 

But, going back to those times when we feel far from God, this verse can also be an instruction for how to enter into His presence. “How do we come before Him? With joyful singing!” In other words, when we’re feeling disconnected, or when we simply don’t “feel” like worshipping, there is a solution: Joyfully sing! Throw on your favorite praise song…and sing. Loudly. Sing songs of who God is—His character, His providence. Sing about His amazing grace that rescued and redeemed you. Remind yourself in song that He will never leave or forsake you—that Christ is all you need. When you feel anxious, fearful, discouraged, or disconnected…sing. The joy will come. The next thing you know, you’ll be in His marvelous presence.

Heavenly Father, thank you for the privilege of coming before You with praise, thanksgiving, and joyful songs! 

Do all things without grumbling or disputing, so that you will be blameless and innocent, children of God without blemish in the midst of a crooked and perverse generation, among whom you shine as lights in the world.

Philippians 2:24-15

We are in the midst of Lent—40 days of preparation for the Easter celebration. Growing up Catholic, we were always told to give up something we like during that time. And I did—but for me, it was just a box to check off, and I didn’t really use it to deepen my relationship with God. (Plus, I would do very flesh-fulfilling “sacrifices”—like giving up beer but then carrying around a bottle of vodka to parties…and proclaiming proudly, “Yeah, I can’t drink beer because I gave it up for Lent.” Cue the self-righteous swag.) 

Anyway, once I truly surrendered my life to the Lord, the meaning of Lent definitely shifted for me, and I’ve become much more intentional over the years about focused prayer, preparation, and praise about the Resurrection of Jesus and the impact of that historical eternity-changing event. Especially its eternity-changing impact on me.

This year—which is also my “year of Joy”—I decided to fast an intangible thing: complaining and grumbling. In Philippians (one of my favorite epistles…well, they all become my favorite as I’m reading them), Paul commands believers to “do everything without complaining or arguing” (Philippians 2:14). The Greek word he first uses (translated “complaining” or “grumbling”) means murmuring discontent, which could be the complaining we do in our own minds with regard to a situation or that quiet (or not so quiet) group-gripe among friends or co-workers—generally about another person. The word for “arguing” here means to hesitate, doubt, or outright rebel against what is true or what ought to be done. Each are slightly different takes on our general word “complain.”

Now, I’m not a big complainer, but I can get frustrated by other people—especially when they don’t do what I think they should…you know, the right thing. (I won’t expand on my “moral perfectionist” tendencies right now, but you probably get it. And I know I can be equally frustrating to others in this regard. But I digress.) Anyway, I don’t say anything to them, but when the interaction is done, I might have a few things to say in my own head…or I run to my husband with those grumbling thoughts. Or, when a coworker or friend has a complaint against a person we both interact with, I would tend to join them—to “empathize”, which ended up sounding a bit group-gripey. 

So, what does my “fast from complaining” look like? First, I try to stay away from all news, which has the power to set me off on all kinds of not-so-quiet tirades. But the more potent application for me is to weave Paul’s command into my everyday moments. When a situation arises that could cause internal grumbling, I look for—and profess—the positive and the blessing in it. Or, if I’m talking with someone who is going off on another person’s words or actions, I do not join in, but try to redirect the “griper” to something affirmative about that person or the scenario about which they’re griping. I try to turn the discouragement into encouragement. 

This has been pretty amazing. As I mentioned, I didn’t think I was much of a complainer, but being intentional about not even grumbling to myself has made a bigger difference than I anticipated. The result? A new level of joy throughout the day! (There are so many levels of truth in this, how what we think impacts our feelings and actions—but that’s another blog.) And I hope that by not engaging in group-gripe that I’m bringing a little joy into other people’s day as well—shining light into the darkness. The coolest thing is that my husband (a self-admitted complainer) is also doing the Philippians 2:14-15 fast. As you can imagine, our home atmosphere has shifted. Again, we didn’t complain or argue with each other (at least, not very often), it was more a conspiratorial co-grumbling about other people and situations. Being free of this, we are deeply embracing another part of Paul’s letter to the Philippians—chapter 4, verses 4-9. Check it out, as these verses make another great prep-for-Easter approach!

What about you? Why not halt the grumbling and arguing—and choose joy? It was for the joy set before Jesus that He endured the cross for us (Hebrews 12:2)…so, let’s fix our eyes on Him with joy for what He accomplished on our behalf that Easter morning.

Lord, Your death and resurrection made a way for us to be reconciled to God—to go from darkness to light, blindness to sight, death to life. May that Truth permeate our days, overtaking any complaints with the joy of our salvation.

And He did not let him, but He said to him, “Go home to your people and report to them what great things the Lord has done for you, and how He had mercy on you.”

Mark 5:19

I love the action-oriented Gospel of Mark. It’s fun to see how often he uses the word “immediately”—it’s like there’s an urgency in his telling of Jesus’ life and ministry, which is pretty cool. Anyway, in chapter 5, Mark describes an event when Jesus healed a demon-possessed man (who was actually overtaken by a legion of demons, not just one). Jesus cast out the demons, freeing this man from the torment and pain he’d been living in (Mark 5:1-20). Although the rescued man wanted to go with Jesus and His disciples, Jesus had a different plan for him: Jesus told him to go and “report what great things the Lord has done for you, and how He had mercy on you.”

Have you ever considered this command from Jesus and what it can mean for you? For every believer—whether you’ve been surrendered to Jesus for 50 years or five days—the Lord has done great things for us! Look first at the moment of salvation. While we were yet sinners, Christ died for us (Romans 5:8), paying the penalty of God’s wrath on our behalf. Because of His mercy (not giving us what we deserve), we are rescued from sin and death, being transformed into a new creation—reconciled to God and made righteous in His sight. We are recipients of amazing grace (getting what we don’t deserve). Like the man once possessed, we were prisoners to sin, slaves to fear and self. But Jesus made us free.

Then there are the countless mercies—new every morning, in fact—that the Lord provides. Miracle after miracle around us, from the breathtaking sunrise and blooming flowers to financial provision and physical healing, demonstrate constant evidence of the Lord’s work in our lives. And as we walk in the direction of obedience toward Heaven, we are being made more and more like Jesus—this, too, is a Great Thing being accomplished by the power of Holy Spirit living in us. 

There is so, so much bad news in the world (and thanks to 24/7 global media, we can hear it all). If you’re like me, you probably watch the news and pine for just one good report—some positive news amid the darkness. But, friend, as followers of Jesus, we have very Good News to report! We are living testimonies to the Way, the Truth, and the Life—the freedom resulting from salvation is indisputable. And it is a bright light shining into a lost and broken world. 

So, let’s act upon the command Jesus gave to the transformed man in Mark’s gospel. Starting at home and then going to all our “people”…let’s go make a good report of what the Lord has done.

Lord, you rescued me and freed me from the bondage of sin. You have done great things and Your mercy is overwhelming. Give me the boldness to go out and give a good report.

Then Aaron shall lay both of his hands on the head of the live goat, and confess over it all the wrongdoings of the sons of Israel and all their unlawful acts regarding all their sins; and he shall place them on the head of the goat and send it away into the wilderness by the hand of a man who stands ready. Then the goat shall carry on itself all their wrongdoings to an isolated territory; he shall release the goat in the wilderness.

Leviticus 16:21-22

I’m not going to lie. When reading through the Bible cover to cover, getting through Leviticus and Numbers can be a tough thing—all those very detailed laws and name lists. As a believer, I know that it all points to Jesus, but sometimes I just want to skip to some action. You know, the good stuff.

But as I was spending time in the sixteenth chapter of Leviticus during my morning quiet time, I came across a seemingly nominal part of the Lord’s sacrificial laws for Israel that sent my spirit soaring. The verses above also sent me scouring the New Testament to find the Scriptural counterparts to those Old Testament instructions. This is what was made clear: We all need a scapegoat. Let me explain.

We’ve all probably heard the term, “scapegoat”— it’s defined as “a person who is blamed for the wrongdoings, mistakes, or faults of others, especially for reasons of expediency.” If you grew up with siblings, there were likely plenty of scapegoat moments. As the baby and only girl among my group of three siblings, I definitely used my brothers as scapegoats for things I did wrong…usually to get out of being punished myself. Maybe you’ve been a scapegoat at work, the one who simply had to take the blame (and consequences) for the team’s mistakes and failures. 

Well, shortly after the Lord led the Israelites out of Egypt, He gave them—through Moses—very specific instructions on how to make sacrifices to the Lord for the atonement and forgiveness of their sins. These offerings happened regularly and had to be carried out exactly as God instructed. These laws, as well as lots of rules to keep them separate from (and healthier than) the pagan, self-worshipping peoples around them, were initially received with great enthusiasm, but suffice it say, the Israelites didn’t have the best follow-through. (I can relate.) 

In addition to the (very bloody) sacrificial rituals, once a year the High Priest also made atonement for the people by metaphorically placing all their sin onto a goat who would then serve to take all the blame. It would be sent into the wilderness, separating the people from their sins. This scapegoat, along with the blood offerings, would temporarily satisfy the requirements of a righteous God. The key word being “temporarily”. The priests had to continually offer these sacrifices because no one could keep the Law—not one (Romans 3:10). 

There is much more theological Truth in these chapters of Leviticus than I can possibly get into now. But suffice it say that all those Old Testament sacrifices were pointing to the ultimate, once-and-for-all Sacrificial Lamb, Jesus Christ. (Check out Hebrews 10:1-18!) Jesus was the substitution for us, bearing our sin and removing it as far as the east is from the west. By His death on the cross, Jesus satisfied the holy and just requirements of God—taking on God’s full wrath. And by His resurrection, He once-and-for-all defeated sin and death, making a way—The Way—for us to be reconciled with the Father.

Friend, Jesus is our Scapegoat. He not only took the blame for every wrongdoing, fault, and mistake, He did so willingly and gladly to pardon us and justify us before God. And this offer is for everyone (1 John 2:2)! To receive this gift of grace, you just have to believe on the Lord and accept it. Are you burdened by your sins and mistakes? Cast them on Jesus—He’ll take them from you, forgive you, and set you free.

Lord, thank You for taking on my sin—and taking on God’s full wrath to pay the penalty I owed. Thank you for freeing me from the bondage of sin and self, giving me a desire to serve and glorify You.

But He was pierced for our offenses, He was crushed for our wrongdoings; The punishment for our peace was laid upon Him, And by His wounds we are healed.

Isaiah 53:3

There’s a Christian pop song that was really popular a few years ago—it’s one with a powerful Biblical message and a beautiful melody, the kind you can play on repeat for hours. The song is Scars by I Am They (after you read this, take a listen here). I’m not going to ruin the musical story for you, because, like a great movie, there’s a tear-provoking lyrical twist.  

I actually haven’t heard the song in a while but was reminded of it by a simple turn of phrase used by my pastor in a sermon I recently heard. And the whole concept struck my spirit in a fresh way, washing me over once again with the amazing grace and mercy of Jesus Christ. 

Friend, this world is hard on us. Although we were created in the image of God, originally meant to live with Him in perfection, walking with Him in holy purity, that all changed real fast when the father of lies crept onto the scene. After sin entered the world, we were not only separated from relationship with God, but everything (us included) started falling apart. Every one of us is born into sin, missing the mark of righteousness and falling short of the life intended for us in the Garden. And in this lifetime of selfish, flesh-satisfying decisions, we earn scars. Sometimes they’re physical, large or small and at various stages of healing, but they can be easily seen by others. Often, however, our scars are internal, invisible to casual onlookers. These unseen scars can be significantly more devastating than the visible ones. They may have come to be by our own choices—trying to satisfy that God-shaped hole in our soul in various ultimately destructive ways. And there are the deep, life-altering scars inflicted on us by others through no fault of our own.

The worst part is that we tend to define ourselves by these scars—they can easily become who we are, influencing our daily thinking, emotions, and behavior. Some people boast in their scars, whether it’s to gain sympathy or just to give credence to the anger and bitterness through which they see life. 

Internal or external, our scars are born in pain. But our lives do not have to be defined by that pain or by the life we lived that may have caused those inflictions. 

Jesus, fully God and fully Man, lived the perfect, holy life we could not live. And through His death on the cross made a way of reconciliation with God—exchanging His righteousness for our unrighteousness. The justice God required of us was paid in full…and through His resurrection, He was victorious over sin and death! 

Friend, to this day and for eternity, Jesus Christ bears the scars of this Beautiful Exchange. And by His wounds we are healed (Isaiah 53:5; 1 Peter 2:24). When we accept this gift of mercy (not getting what we do deserve) and grace (getting what we don’t deserve), we are made new! We are washed as white as snow (Isaiah 1:18), becoming a new creation in Christ (2 Corinthians 5:17). Our sins are forgiven and cast into the sea of forgetfulness (Micah 7:19). And, although our physical scars may remain until our bodies are glorified, the internal scars no longer have to define us. Once you surrender to Jesus as Lord, it is by HIS scars you are defined. What does that mean—how does your self-definition change exactly? You become righteous, holy, royalty, a fellow heir with Christ, God’s possession, a child of God, a friend of Jesus. And there is “now no condemnation for those in Christ Jesus” (Romans 8:1). When you accept the power found in the scars of Jesus, your scars become powerless over you.

So, by whose scars will you define yourself? If you’re tired of the labels you’ve put on yourself because of where you’ve been or what you’ve done, give them over to Jesus…accept His scars and be free in Him.

Jesus, thank You for Your scars. Scars that forever maimed You and forever healed me.

So he called the name of the place Massah and Meribah, because of the contention of the children of Israel, and because they tempted the Lord, saying, “Is the Lord among us or not?”

Exodus 17:7

I am once again reading through the Bible in the year in chronological order. Currently, I’m still within the chapters of Exodus, as Moses recounts the incredible saga of how the Lord delivers His people from over 400 years of bondage in the land of Egypt. But, in all transparency, this portion of the narrative never fails to convict me. 

Thanks to Hollywood renditions, believers and unbelievers alike are familiar with how, after 10 terrifying and deadly plagues upon Egypt, Pharoah finally relented to Moses’ plea to “let my people go”—the more than two million Israelites loaded up with their neighbors’ gold and walked away from horrific slavery and suffering. The now-free men, women, and children are stopped at the Red Sea when Pharoah—who had changed his mind, despite the death and destruction brought on by the plagues of God—and his army gave chase. But God. The Red Sea parted, the Israelites walked through it, and then the Egyptians were all drowned when they tried to follow (Exodus 14-15). The people celebrated and wrote a song of praise…but just a few weeks later, they were grumbling to God and Moses as they walked toward the Promised Land. “Remember when we ate our fill?” they cried (Exodus 16:3). “Life was so good back in Egypt!” Um, in reality, they were beaten, terrorized, and worked to death—Pharoah even murdered all the Israelite baby boys to quell their population. 

And even after their miraculous survival of the plagues, their enriching exodus, walking on dry land through a sea, and actually being led day and night by God’s presence in a pillar of smoke and fire, respectively, they still grumbled and complained to God. Not only that, but they looked back at their bondage and mistreatment with some serious rose-colored glasses, longing for the good ol’ days of enslavement. 

 And over the next few months, this cycle continued over and over. Despite a miracle of provision having just happened, the people would grumble gripe, and complain. Then (in great patience, mercy, and love) God would miraculously show His power and provision again. Whether it was providing water from a rock, giving these non-fighters victory in battle, or raining down food from heaven, the people would receive mind-blowing grace from the Lord one day and forgot about it the next. What’s more astounding is that, even while being a literal walking miracle, these people turned their minds and hearts to a broken, miserable past from which they were delivered. 

Cue the conviction. I tend to read through these chapters with self-righteous mockery. The narrative in my head sounds something like, “I cannot believe those ungrateful idiots! How could they possibly experience God’s amazing provision just to turn around and gripe to Him about their circumstances? And they seriously pined for their “good ol’ days” of their enslavement?”

Ouch. These chapters of Exodus might as well be a mirror. See, I was once enslaved to sin, but through the work of Jesus (not anything I did), I was set free and set off in a different direction toward the Promised Land (heaven). I am a walking miracle, having been redeemed by Christ and reconciled to God (Romans 5:10). Yet I still tend to gripe and complain. Over the past 25 years as a Christian, the Lord has shown me innumerable miracles—protection, provision, restoration, mercy…inexpressible grace. I even have the very presence of the Lord with me day and night, as the Holy Spirit lives in me! Sure, after each recognized gift of God, I am thankful, singing His praises! But then the sun rises again, and—somehow—I find myself whining about my circumstances again. What’s worse, though, are those times when I heed the hissing in my ear from the enemy: “Remember the good ol’ days, when you went out partying with your friends—wasn’t that so fun? Remember when you could talk and act however you wanted? Your money and time were all yours. You were so free back then!” Similar to the Israelites, though, my perceived “good-ol-days of freedom” were not so good. They consisted of pain, misery, selfishness, and enslavement to pursuing anything to fill the God-shaped hole in my soul.  

The words in Exodus remind me of my own desert-wandering attitudes, giving me the opportunity to repent and shift my perspective—to keep my eyes on the Lord and who He is and all He’s done for me, not on my circumstances or some glamorized version of my past. But friend, that is the beauty of the entire Bible! Each page, from Genesis to Revelation, reveals to us who Jesus is—and who we are in Him. I encourage you to dive into the Living Word, recognize the miracles of our gracious God (including you!), and learn from these power-filled pages how to walk not in grumbling and complaints, but in Gratefulness, Joy, and Peace.

Lord, thank You for the reminder that we are prone to wander—in thought, word, and action. May we keep our eyes on You as we walk toward our ultimate Home.

And wherever (Jesus) entered villages, or cities, or a countryside, they were laying the sick in the marketplaces and imploring Him that they might just touch the fringe of His cloak; and all who touched it were being healed.

Mark 6:56

Although I haven’t been to a concert in more than a few years, there was a time when I was pretty fanatical about seeing my favorite bands. Of course, this was when ticket prices were reasonable, not Taylor-Swift-level ridiculous. And when my friends and I attended these concerts, getting as close as possible to our rock idols was always the goal (for which we sometimes did pay a big price—be it in more dollars, more time waiting in lines, or in dangerously crushing struggles when general admission was a thing…I think of U2, Hampton, VA, 1987). But I digress. My point is that for us crazy fan girls, it was about getting close enough for indirect contact—a guitar pick, drumstick, a drop of sweat, or a moment of eye-to-eye connection. Then there was the screaming, begging, imploring for the rockstar to come close enough for a touch of your outstretched hand—this was the ultimate aspiration.

As Jesus was traveling around teaching and healing, He became quite the proverbial rockstar to the people. Some, like the Pharisees, consistently rejected Him, despite his clear message and miracles. Others dropped everything to follow Him, becoming sincere disciples of God incarnate (“groupies” if you will). But the majority of people in the crowds, in awe of what He was doing, just wanted some indirect contact with Jesus. In the sixth chapter of Mark’s gospel, we’re told that “wherever He entered villages, or cities, or a countryside, they were laying the sick in the marketplaces and imploring Him that they might just touch the fringe of His cloak; and all who touched it were being healed.”

The crowds were lining up, maybe even struggling for the best positioning, just to implore Jesus to come close enough for a touch. They believed in Him enough—had faith enough—to receive healing for themselves or their loved ones through the indirect contact with the edge of His cloak. Were they all just caught up in the rockstar mob mentality, just in it for what they could get from Him? Or were they truly believing that Jesus was exactly who He said He was—the Way, the Truth, and the Life? We aren’t told. 

We are informed (John 6:59-71) that the masses following Him around thinned quickly when the teachings of Jesus offended and challenged them. When Jesus made it clear that He is the Bread of Life and only those who believe in Him have eternal life, well, that was too much for the “fringe” crowd. They rejected Him, turning away to previous attitudes or maybe some contemporary idol (literally). These people, though temporarily demonstrating faith in Jesus, were simply not all in.

What about you? Are you following Jesus from a distance, agreeing with some of His Words (ones that align with your lifestyle)? When pain, illness, and difficulties come, do you implore Him to come near enough to heal your situation—faithful enough and grateful for what He’ll give you, but once healed, you fall back into the crowd once more? Are you on board with the Bible, until you read something that challenges or offends you? Have you actually turned away when things got too real, believing that your way and your will were better than the Lord’s?

Friend, fringe Christianity is not what Jesus wants or intended for us. He wants us fully committed to His whole Word, obedient to His will, set apart from the world as light and salt. We are to love Him with all our heart, mind, soul, and strength (Mark 12:30). And when troubles and trials come—because they will (John 16:33)—we’re to draw even closer to Him for strength and comfort, not walk away. Jesus wants us all in. Because, after all, He went all in for us, giving everything to make a way for us to be reconciled with God. To pay the penalty we deserve for our sin, giving us His righteousness, so we can have eternal life with Him. And once we accept this gift of salvation, we have full access to God Himself through Jesus, and we have the power of the Holy Spirit living in us! Instead of mere indirect contact with Jesus, we can hang out with Him whenever we want, talk with Him, get to know Him—in fact, we’re part of His family. So, don’t be satisfied with fringe living. Go all in.

Lord, You long for us to let go of the world—even ourselves—and surrender all to You. May we be reminded that You gave all for us, so why would we give You anything less?

We have come to know and have believed the love which God has for us. God is love, and the one who remains in love remains in God, and God remains in him. 

1 John 4:16

If you’ve been walking with the Lord for any amount of time, you’ve probably recognized when He’s really trying to tell you something. You hear it in Sunday’s sermon, then you read it in a daily devotional and hear it on a podcast, then it comes up in conversation with a brother or sister. And you think, “Ah, I get it, Lord!”

So, when a “Providential theme” around me lately seemed to be “the love of God”, it was easy to think, “Well, of course God loves me and others!” One of the first Bible verses most Christians (and football fans) come to know is John 3:16: “For God so loved the world that He gave His only Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have eternal life.” God loves the world! And He loves you and me so much that while we were yet sinners (separated enemies of God), Christ died for us (Romans 5:8). Moreover, nothing—not trouble, persecution, famine, rulers, even death—can separate us from the love of God (Romans 8:35-39).

But the other night, in talking with husband about yet another message we heard about God’s love, the profound statement, “God loves you” was opened up in a fresh way within my spirit. And it was simply by reiterating the statement with a respective emphasis on each of the three words. Let me explain.

First, with the emphasis on “God”: GOD love you. The Creator of heaven and earth. The Sovereign King of kings and Lord of lords. The Light, the Way, the Truth. The great I Am. The Alpha and Omega of eternity love you. Let that sink in, friend.

Second, with the emphasis on “loves”: God LOVES you. This love is not the fleeting kind of this world, emotion-driven love that waxes and wanes depending upon the recipient’s performance or attitude. The love of God is unconditional, steadfast, perfect. It is sacrificial. It casts out fear. As noted from Romans 8, His love is unbreakable. It’s also unreasonable, unfathomable, unending. 

Finally, with the emphasis on “you”: God loves YOU. Whether or not you’re a believer, you may be thinking to yourself, “Me? How could God love me, given the life I’ve led (or am leading)? How could the Creator of all things who loves people with perfect love possibly extend that love to me?” Oh, friend, He does. And regardless of the mess you think you are (whether you’re wallowing in a proverbial pigsty or sitting in a pew every Sunday), the Father is here with open arms ready to embrace you. In fact, as Jesus shared in the parable of the Lost Son (Luke 15:11-32), as soon as you recognize your need for this unreasonable love and turn away from your sin (repent), turning to God, He will run to you! And in that embrace, there is no rebuke, disgust, or “I told you so” over your sin. Just forgiveness and love.

God loves you. And He demonstrated His perfect love for you by sending His perfect Son, Jesus, to live a perfect life and then take the penalty for your imperfection (sin). By conquering sin and death, Jesus made a way for us to be reconciled with the Father. When we accept the Great Exchange of our filthy rags for Jesus’ righteousness—when we receive the gift of God’s love—we are forgiven and free. And the statement “God loves me” will have an entirely new meaning.

Lord, I pray that anyone reading this who believes they are unloved or unlovable, will come to truly know Your unreasonable, perfect, sacrificial love. And that they turn around and run into your open arms today.