Beware of practicing your righteousness before other people in order to be seen by them, for then you will have no reward from your Father who is in heaven.

~ Matthew 6:1

Social media has created look-at-me monsters in our society, birthing the selfie (which was not actually a thing at one point, I promise), as well as this warped need for likes, followers, and digital “communities” that aren’t really communities at all. Whether photos, posts, or shorts, everyone publishes what makes them look good—their highlight reel, so to speak. (Now, in recent years, there’s been a desire to post rants, sobbing sessions, and breakdowns—all with the thought that these are also fabulous ways of making a name for oneself. We won’t go down that road here.) 

On our socials, a photo shouts, “Look at my incredible vacation in the tropics!” (With a subtext of “I’m a little better than you.”) And “Don’t my children look perfect and sweet?” (The fact that everyone was screaming at each other moments before the camera clicked is beside the point.) We even want our do-good actions to be recognized—a Thanksgiving at the homeless shelter, a post-hurricane cleanup weekend, even a church mission trip abroad. Humans want to be seen. Acknowledged. Accepted.

I get it, believe me. Although I’ve not had social media for many, many years, a “Look at me!” craving has been a thing in my life. Even though I am the baby of three and only girl of my family of origin, my perception was always that I had to do a little bit more than my brothers to receive accolades (read: love) from my parents. [My parents were amazing, by the way, but we all make decisions through the lens of our own history.] In fact, a huge part of my testimony is me trying to fill a void of identity/acceptance with all kinds of destructive things the world promised me would fill that hole…but it’s the same God-shaped hole we all have, and—praise the Lord—I was able to cease my efforts and accept the grace of Jesus (Ephesians 2:1-10). 

Even as a Christ-follower, knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that I cannot earn salvation by my good works, there’s still that niggly voice in my ear while I serve during a Sunday service, picking at those old scars created by pre-Jesus destructive habits: “Be sure the staff sees what you’re doing—you’ve got to get those ‘Atta girls’…otherwise, what worth do you have? What good are you?” If you (and I) listen closely, you’ll hear it. It’s a hiss from the enemy. Maybe when tapped to pray aloud in a group, you use big, Christian-y words to impress. Or you give up something during Lent only to bemoan the agonizing lack when given a chance. 

During His earthly ministry, Jesus knew we had a propensity for look-at-me attitudes and actions. In Matthew’s gospel (6:1-18), Jesus spoke strongly about doing what is right for God’s accolades alone—not men’s. He calls those who show off their righteousness for men, “hypocrites”. They get what they seek, Jesus says, which is only a meaningless reward of fleeting atta-boys. But when we serve and give and fast and pray, we’re to do so only and always for the Lord—for the reward of pleasing Him. We’re to do good works to glorify God and point others to Him (Matthew 5:16). We love and serve and give because He first loved and served and gave to us (1 John 4:19). In fact, whatever we do—work, eat, drink—we’re to do as unto the Lord with thanks (Colossians 3:17; 23).

Sweet friend, you are seen. You are known—and you are a miracle (Psalm 139). And when you surrender to Jesus as your Lord and Savior, you are no longer slave to sinful desires. You are free, a child of God (Galatians 4:1-7). You do not have to work to earn His love and acceptance—it’s a gift. So, you can drop that heavy burden that weighs you down…trade it for His peace. Yes, we will “do good”—we must! But it’s not to earn the atta-girl or atta-boy. It’s in response to the overwhelming love and ridiculous grace that He has given us. 

Lord, how precious also are Your thoughts for me, God! How vast is the sum of them! Were I to count them, they would outnumber the sand (Psalm 139:17-18). Thank You.

(The Lord) will judge the world with righteousness And the peoples with fairness.

Psalm 98:9

There’s a lot of talk these days about justice…and pardons. In fact, until recent months (and days) the concept of pardoning probably didn’t cross our minds. Then, rather suddenly, they’re flying around like those old Oprah days when she had her big giveaway shows: “You get a pardon! And you get a pardon! And you get a pardon!” (And I won’t even go into that whole “pre-emptive pardon”—how is that even a thing?)

Before I digress, let’s establish some legal definitions in order to get to some spiritual implications.

1. Justice: “The ethical, philosophical idea that people are to be treated impartially, fairly, properly, and reasonably by the law and by arbiters of the law.” Another simply explanation is “getting what one deserves.”
2. Pardon: “To use the executive power of a Governor or President to forgive a person convicted of a crime, thus removing any remaining penalties or punishments and preventing any new prosecution of the person for the crime for which the pardon was given. A pardon strikes the conviction from the books as if it had never occurred, and the convicted person is treated as innocent.” 

We all pine for justice, don’t we? When we witness a person, group, or even community of people being mistreated or victimized, something rises up within us—payment must be made, the wrong made right! (This is especially if we’re the one who was wronged.) We stand firm on our sense of righteousness, and shout, “That person/group/government” has fallen short!” 

Ah, but this is where things get tricky when we shift our perspective to the heavenlies. See, the only reason we—or anyone in the world—has any sense of moral “right” or “wrong” is because God instilled it in us (Romans 1:19-20). We want to see justice because God is just—His perfect, holy righteousness is the ultimate standard (Deuteronomy 32:3-4). Yup…He is just. And we all fall short (Romans 3:23). One little lie or angry thought toward another….mark missed. So, what happens when we cannot meet the righteous requirements of our perfect and Holy God? Well, there is the penalty of His wrath to be paid (Romans 1:18; Romans 2:5). Uh oh. Is “justice” what we really want now? 

God is just, we’re easily convicted, and the sentence is definitive. But praise God that He is also merciful! Jesus has stepped up to the Judge’s proverbial bench and said, “I will take the punishment (your name here) deserves.” And He did. Jesus came to earth, fully God and fully man, to live a perfect, sinless life we could not and take the wrath meant for us. Then, He rose victorious over sin and death. 

And, friend, guess what we get when we accept for ourselves what Jesus did on the cross? A pardon! Look at the elements of the legal definition again: 1) a person convicted of a crime is forgiven (Ephesians 1:7); 2) any penalties or punishments are removed (Psalm 103:10-12); 3) any new prosecution is prevented (John 10:27-30); and 4) (this is the best, most amazing part) the conviction is stricken from the books as if it had never occurred, and the convicted person is treated as innocent (2 Corinthians 5:21). The church word for this is actually “justification”—we are made righteous by the blood of Jesus, so that God upon His Judgment seat looks upon us as completely innocent…as if we’ve never sinned at all (Romans 3:21-26).

Someday soon, you’ll likely find yourself in a political conversation about those recent pardons—around which there is much vitriol one way or another. So, join the discussion! Share how you are a BIG FAN of pardons…then tell them the story of your own. 

“Lord, thank You for your grace and compassion. And thank You, Jesus, for being the Just and the Justifier.”

“And if your hand or your foot is causing you to sin, cut it off and throw it away from you; it is better for you to enter life maimed or without a foot, than to have two hands or two feet and be thrown into the eternal fire. And if your eye is causing you to sin, tear it out and throw it away from you. It is better for you to enter life with one eye, than to have two eyes and be thrown into the fiery hell.”

~Matthew 18:8-9

Before I get started, I want to be absolutely clear: Salvation is by grace alone, through faith alone, in Christ alone—“not by works so that no one may boast” (Ephesians 2:8-9). We do not earn our right relationship with God; it is a gift. Once justified (that is, having our penalty for sin paid in full by Jesus), we do work—we make an effort to be holy as Christ is holy (1 Peter 1:13-16). The entire New Testament is our manual for righteous living as ambassadors of Jesus and citizens of Heaven. This is sanctification, and we’re on this path until we’re glorified at death or when Jesus comes back.

OK, now that we’ve got all that straight, let’s talk about righteous living. Friend, whether we’ve been saved for 50 years or 5 minutes, the rest of our lives will be a battle against sin. Although we’re made new creations (2 Corinthians 5:17) and we’ve got the Holy Spirit living in us, we’ve got our pesky flesh to contend with. Oh, and the world system, which is undeniably upside down and pummeling us from every media angle. Then there’s the enemy of our soul, Satan, who prowls around us, hissing lies and condemnation in our ears, wanting only to kill, steal, and destroy us (John 10:10). Fun times.

That’s why the God-inspired epistle writers give us lots of advice…we must put on the armor of God (Ephesians 6:10-18). We renew our mind (verse). We give thanks and keep our minds focused on Godly things (Philippians 4:4-9). I could go on and on at all the positive things to do, as we’re directed in the Bible.

And, although we are told to stand firm on our faith and the Truth of Jesus, there are also ample exhortations to flee—to do what it takes to simply get out of the proverbial trap you may be in (or just inching toward). We’re to flee from false teachers and the love of money (1 Timothy 6:3-16). We must flee youthful desires (2 Timothy 2:22). We also have to flee from sexual immorality (1 Corinthians 6:18) and idolatry (1 Corinthians 10:14). That’s a lot of running! (Too bad it doesn’t count toward our daily step count.) 

Jesus Himself is also very clear about doing whatever it takes for the sake of righteous living. Once in Mark’s gospel (9:43-48) and twice in Matthew’s (5:27-30; 18:8-9) , Jesus uses intense hyperbole to warn His listeners that if, for example, your hand is causing you to sin, cut it off. Same with your eye. The point is not to literally cut off your hand or pluck out your eye, but rather to go to extremes for purity. What would be our modern equivalents? Does your computer entice you to visit porn sites? Get rid of it. (Or at least add some serious firewalls that only allow for the most basic of searches.) Spending hours every day scrolling your socials only to go down black holes of comparison, self-beratement, or social/political vitriol? Close your accounts. Hanging out with buddies who lure you to go to your pre-Jesus haunts and do pre-Jesus activities? Or maybe your friend group just loves juicy gossip sessions whenever you’re all together. Stop hanging out with those people. Full transparency here: If you’re obsessed with body image, and your day is either “OK” or “ruined” by a digital reading, throw out your scale.

Although we all have different sin temptations, there are no “levels” of sin in God’s economy. From porn to drunkenness to gossip to idolatry to lies—it’s all an equal playing field of sin. So, beloved, let’s do some serious soul-searching about where we stand on temptation. From what do you need to flee? And where in your life do you need to go to extremes for righteousness? 

“Lord, search me and know my heart. Reveal to me my idolatry, immorality, impurity—and show me what to do to fully surrender it all to You.”

Now all the tax collectors and sinners were coming near Jesus to listen to Him. And both the Pharisees and the scribes began to complain, saying, “This man receives sinners and eats with them.” 

~Luke 15:1-2

My husband came home from his men’s group the other day and shared a simple, yet profound, phrase someone had mentioned almost off the cuff. It was around a brother they were discipling—that this guy “had a heart for Jesus, but not the heart of Jesus.” 

Mic drop.

If you consider yourself a Christian, then you know Jesus. Most likely, you love Him…that is, you have a heart for Jesus. You may even excel at the disciplines of the faith: reading God’s Word, praying, attending church. When asked about particular Bible verses, you know just where to find them. You may even be especially fond of the “don’t do” list. So, you can be quick to point out how fellow believers are lacking based upon the sanctification path—and speed—you deem to be “correct”. (And when I use “you” here, I can just as easily use “I”.)

You may have attended a church like this—I definitely have. The pastoral staff and congregation certainly love the Lord. The teaching is Biblically solid. Jesus is preached, evangelism is pushed, truth abounds. Oh, but to attend each Sunday, you’d better possess a certain “buttoned-up-ness” to avoid those judgmental glances and oh-so-subtle head shakes of disappointment. Have a sleeve of tattoos? Better cover up. Grabbing a cigarette in the parking lot after church? Well, just don’t. Walking in the door with a friend who invited you, but you’re sporting a slight hangover from the night before? Should’ve stayed home.

See, churches (and Christians) like this lack grace—the very heart of Jesus, and the very means by which we are saved! Grace is getting what we don’t deserve. And because we are all sinners, we all fall short of the glory of God. Yet we are justified by His grace through the redemption of Christ Jesus (Romans 3:21-26). And although sometimes we are completely freed from some flesh-satisfying behavior immediately upon salvation, the rest of our life on earth is a sanctification journey Home. We progress, following Jesus step by step, from glory to glory (2 Corinthians 3:17-18). 

And friend, we all need grace upon grace along the way! As brothers and sisters in the family of God, we must proceed having the heart of Jesus—extending grace, mercy, forgiveness, and love to one another. We must love our neighbor like the Samaritan in the parable of Jesus (Luke 10:25-37). And we have to remember that once saved, we all walk this journey at different paces and with the Lord refining us each in His Providence—for our good and His glory.

So, let’s decide today to not just have a heart for Jesus, but to have the heart of Jesus. Let’s extend more grace than judgment and welcome people just where they are—not where we think they should be.

Lord, You are so, so good and gracious to me. Forgive me for having a judgmental, Pharisaical attitude toward my brothers and sisters. Give me a heart like Yours!

Let all the earth fear the Lord; Let all the inhabitants of the world stand in awe of Him.  

~Psalm 33:8

It’s been a week since we’ve been launched into 2025. That said, how are those New Year’s resolutions going so far? Are they losing their appeal? If not, studies show that, sadly, most of us will drop them altogether by February. I’m all for committing to self-betterment—physically, spiritually, mentally. But I wanted to share one resolution we can all get behind for the rest of this year (and, really, the rest of eternity).

More than an added activity or lifestyle pivot, this is more of a perspective shift that influences every moment—the big, profound ones and the seemingly irrelevant. This year, let’s live in constant Awe of God. Although God’s Word is full of inspiration for awe-filled living, here are just a few incentives to get you started. As you meditate on them, click on the Scripture reference links and choose some verses to explore, delight in, and write down as reminders.

1. He is the Creator and Sustainer of all things (Genesis 1:1; John 1:3; Hebrews 1:3; Colossians 1:16-17; Revelation 4:9-11). He knows every star by name (Isaiah 40:26) and the number of hairs on your head (Luke 12:6-7). The meticulous balances of life, from the exact tilt of the earth and our atmospheric perfection to the biomolecular function of the eyeball, are made and sustained by God.
2. His creation is wonderous—the heavens, living creatures, and you—and declares His glory (Psalm 8; Psalm 19:1; Psalm 104; Psalm 139:13-15; Isaiah 43:7). Listen to waves at the beach rhythmically roar in praise. Turn your ear to the wind moving through the trees and hear the leaves shout, “Glory, glory, halleluiah!” Again, as you walk, talk, think, do…it’s all miraculous. As you inhale and exhale, consider that your lungs hold the very breath of God (Genesis 2:7; Job 33:4).
3. Because of Christ, walk in victory over sin and death—we are free (John 8:34-36; John 11:25-26; Romans 8:37-39; Galatians 5:1;1 Corinthians 15:54-57). The world system and its craziness does not have to entangle us. When we look around, it may seem like the enemy has an advantage…but God wins (and so do we). 
4. As Christ followers, we are citizens of heaven—our ultimate and eternal Home (Philippians 3:20-21; Ephesians 2:19; 1 Peter 1:3-4). The reason the things of the world cannot completely fulfill us is because we were not made for this world. We’re merely ambassadors to tell others about our Country and the greatness of our Sovereign King.
5. Get ready! God has new heavens and earth prepared for us (Isaiah 65:17-19; John 14:2-3; 2 Peter 3:13; Revelation 22:1-3). The awesome sights, sounds, smells, tastes, and joys of this earth are mere shadows of eternal glory, giving us brief glimpses of what’s to come. 

So, resolve to gaze at each sunrise and sunset with a new sense of wonder—recognizing the Lord painted it uniquely for that moment. Study the intricacy of a flower and note the endless variety of colors, shapes, intricacies. Taste and savor the food that God made. Look—really look—into the faces of the men, women, and children around you…know that you’re beholding the very image of God. And, daily, recall that as a child of God redeemed by Christ, you are a walking miracle…you were dead, and you’re now alive, awaiting the full glory of heaven to come.

Lord, as followers of Christ, let us “show gratitude, by which we may offer to God an acceptable service with reverence and awe” (Hebrews 12:28).

And Jesus answered and said to them, “It is not those who are healthy who need a physician, but those who are sick. I have not come to call the righteous to repentance, but sinners.”

~Luke 5:31-32

“I don’t go to church—it’s full of hypocrites.” You’ve likely heard this statement (or something similar) before. Maybe it was in response to a church invitation you made to a fellow gym member. Or perhaps it was a general condemnation of Christianity by a coworker during pre-meeting chit-chat when someone mentioned a church activity they’re involved in. And all too often, this type of assertion is uttered by people proclaiming to be followers of Jesus. Sadly, the source is easy to trace: a denominational leadership or churchgoer at some point in their past wounded them so deeply that the thought of “church” brings only distaste or even profound pain.

See, it’s way too prevalent for U.S. churches today to require those walking in the door to be perfectly buttoned up—at least on the outside. Prerequisites for acceptance include appropriate dress, talking the Christianese talk, and certainly making an almost pharisaical show of not drinking, cussing, or watching R-rated movies. Looking like a sinner, acting like a sinner, or even having the appearance of a pigsty-living past can result in quiet (or not-so-quiet) shunning or dismissal from “the family” of some churches. Hence, there are men or women who came to accept the saving grace of Jesus, and—being miraculously transformed from death to life—went running to the nearest church (as they should). But instead of a welcoming embrace, the door was proverbially slammed in their face. 

This response, however, is completely antithetical to what Jesus taught during His earthly ministry. Throughout Luke’s gospel, for example, the Lord repeatedly admonishes the Pharisees (church people) about this very issue. In His hometown of Nazareth, Jesus proclaimed His purpose by reading from Isaiah, that He has come to release captives, give sight to the blind, and free the oppressed (Luke 4:16-22). But when the church people heard this, they “were filled with rage” and then tried to throw Jesus off a cliff. And when Jesus called Matthew—a tax collector—to follow Him, and went to dine with him and his friends, the Pharisees were aghast that Jesus would socialize with such people. But our gracious Lord responded, “It is not those who are healthy who need a physician, but those who are sick. I have not come to call the righteous to repentance, but sinners” (Luke 5:29-32). Similarly, when Zaccheus (a chief tax collector), joyfully received Jesus, the church people again complained that Jesus chose to hang out with “a sinner”. But Jesus replied plainly: “the Son of Man has come to seek and to save that which was lost” (Luke 19:1-10). It’s in Luke 15, though, that Jesus gives the Pharisees a 1-2-3 punch in response to their griping about His pursuing sinners. In quick succession, He tells parables of a lost sheep, a lost coin, and a lost son. Jesus’ bottom line? “There will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous people who have no need of repentance” (v7).

Friend, the Church should be an ER for the soul. A place of triage for those wounded and bloodied from the battles of this broken world. See, if you had a deep gash on your head and rushed to the hospital for help, they wouldn’t say, “Go home until you stop bleeding. Then, when you’re all cleaned up, you can come back for our services.” No! They would rush you in and tend to your wound. By the way, that doesn’t mean when you walk out of the hospital doors you’ll never fall down or get banged up again—you will. And you’ll need those nurses and doctors again and again. But in the meantime (as this hospital-to-church analogy deepens), you’re on staff! You are the one with open arms, extending grace, mercy, and healing truth to those entering the doors. 

We all were once lost, blind, and broken. But God, through the finished work of Jesus, made a way of gracious healing through faith. What about you? Are you an open-armed grace-giver? Or, now that you’ve been proverbially cleaned up, do you require that of others before welcoming them in?

Lord, may I not only rejoice when one who was lost is found, but also be generous in grace with all who follow You on the walk Home.

For a Child will be born to us, a Son will be given to us; And the government will rest on His shoulders; And His name will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Eternal Father, Prince of Peace.

~Isaiah 9:6

It’s Christmas! And as I was flipping through the Bible to contemplate all the many Old Testament prophecies that point us to the birth of Jesus, a weirdly random memory popped into my mind. I was a seventh grader in my favorite class that year called “Mixed media”. (Now, I am within my fifth decade of life, so the “media” we explored in this class would only resonate with my generational peers.) The class taught students how to effectively communicate within the various forms of modern media—as a bourgeoning young writer and a tendency (like most middle-school girls) to be dramatic, you can imagine how much I loved this class. The assignment that bubbled up in my mind while looking into God’s Words about Christmas was this: We were tasked to choose a text for a dramatic reading, find appropriate accompanying music, and perform it in class. 

Although my family was Catholic, and we didn’t read the Bible—that was for other people to read portions to us on Sundays—I did have a big children’s illustrated Bible in my possession. (If you grew up Catholic in the 1970s/80s, you can probably see in your mind’s eye what I’m talking about.) So, I chose for my reading one of the gospel narratives of the crucifixion of Christ—obviously highly dramatic. For my music, I was just looking for a piece that could match the drama of the words, with the right ebbs and crescendos. Somehow, in my 12-year-old obliviousness, I found “Carol of the Bells”—maybe because the timing was just before Christmas break, but I’m not sure. But I know that I didn’t give any thought to it being a Christmas song, it just felt like the right choice musically. And in my memorialized version of that classroom event, I slayed the assignment. Although my teacher gave me high marks on my recitation, she pinged me quite heavily on the fact that I chose a Christmas song while reading about an Easter event. These elements had no relationship, she said. Being ever the perfectionist, I was bummed to not have gotten a perfect mark, but I moved on…

Now, four decades later—and having been a follower of Jesus for the past three of those—I can look back on that memory recognizing a beautiful truth lost on both me and my teacher: There is nothing more connected in the history of the world than the two elements of my dramatic reading. My 50-something-year-old Biblically literate self would go back to class and dispute my teacher’s assessment, “No, ma’am,” I’d say. “The very point of Christmas is Easter.” 

Fulfilling God’s plan from eternity past, as well as those prophetic OT writings, a virgin named Mary gave birth with her fiancé in a small cave meant to shelter animals (Isaiah 7:14; Luke 1:26-38). In a town—Bethlehem—whose name means “House of Bread”, God brought forth the Bread of Life (Micah 5:2; Luke 2:1-8). Jesus—who is God—removed His heavenly royal crown and wrapped Himself in flesh—Immanuel, God with us (Isaiah 7:14; Matthew 1:18-25). The Lion of Judah became the Lamb of God for the purpose of being slain on our behalf (Isaiah 53:7; John 1:29; Revelation 5:12). He was born fully man and fully God (John 1:14; Philippians 2:7; Colossians 2:9), to live the perfect life we could not, die a brutal death on a cross (accurately prophesied before crucifixion was invented, see Isaiah 53:1-12; Psalm 22) to pay the penalty we owe (Romans 6:23; Ephesians 1:7)…and to rise again triumphant over sin and death to reconcile this lost and broken world into right relationship with God (Isaiah 53:5; Romans 5:10-11; 2 Corinthians 5:18-19; Colossians 1:19-22) . 

Friend, this is the paradox of Christmas. Yes, we celebrate with the angels (Luke 2:14-15) and sing, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace…” But the peace declared by the angelic host doesn’t come at that time with the baby wrapped in swaddling clothes in the manger. This peace with God declared in the heavenlies was established 33 years later, when this man—dead and wrapped in grave clothes—walked out of His tomb in victory. 

“Lord, may we celebrate Your glorious birth with a right view to why You came to earth—to make the way to peace with God through the death and resurrection for which You were born.”

And I heard the angel of the waters saying, “Righteous are You, the One who is and who was, O Holy One, because You judged these things; for they poured out the blood of saints and prophets, and You have given them blood to drink. They deserve it.”

~Revelation 16:5-6

Studying the book of Revelation is a wild ride. It’s mysterious—yet contains mysteries revealed. From his visions, John recounts dire warnings—and exhilarating promises. There is utter despair and confident hope, frightening wrath and magnificent glory. In fact, the opening of Charles Dickens’ classic, A Tale of Two Cities, captures the vibe of Revelation very succinctly (and, in fact, Mr. Dickens was likely himself inspired by the Apostle John’s writing):

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of light, it was the season of darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair.

I’m diving deep into Revelation with a couple of sweet sisters as we follow a study guide. Each week brings mind-blowing I-never-saw-that-before ah-ha moments…and simultaneously makes me question concepts I had thought my mind firmly grasped. In fact, the writer of Hebrews tells us that God’s Word is living and active, sharp and piercing (4:12), but it’s also like an everlasting onion—we can continually peel away and keep unearthing more and more truthful treasures.

All that to say this: In Revelation 16:6, in the midst of the final set of 7 judgments on the earth, I saw this little sentence: They deserve it. Yes, indeed, I thought. They do deserve it! They’ve rejected the Lord through ever-increasing judgments and plagues—He keeps giving them chances to repent, but they blaspheme Him and continue doing life their way. He’s been so patient…yet they reject Him time and time and time again. As I’m reading, I know that God’s full wrath is about to be poured out…and, yes, they deserve it.

(Loud gulping sound here.) So. Do. I.

For 30 years of my life, I rejected the Lord and continued to do life my way. Running after things and people to satisfy a hole in my soul that only God could fill up. Blaspheming God through my life choices. I deserved His judgment and wrath! Yet in His patience, He didn’t pour it out—He gave me more chances until I finally surrendered. At that moment I didn’t suddenly not deserve His wrath. In fact, because of His perfect holiness, even a single lie or stolen candy bar deserves eternal punishment. (I know, I know…but that is just. And He is Just.)

What changed at that time? I realized that the wrath I deserved (and still deserve) was taken by Jesus when He died on the cross. The penalty was paid for me. He took my punishment and gave me His righteousness, so that I can stand acceptable before God in perfect, eternal relationship with Him and with my brothers and sisters in Christ. Mercy for wrath. 

So, with that little mirror-gazing exercise, my attitude definitely shifted when covering all the wrath-filled verses in Revelation. Instead of cheering on those angels hurling fire, boils, and 100-pound hailstones, celebrating the demise of “those people who deserve it”…instead, my heart now cries out, “Why are you being so hardheaded! Repent! Surrender to God! He’s given you so many chances, and your time is almost up!” 

I ask you now, beloved, what about you? Time is short, and wrath is coming. Please trade yours for the beautiful cup of mercy extended by Jesus. 

“Lord, thank You for your longsuffering, that You wait for us hardheaded people to recognize our need for You and the free gift of grace You offer through Jesus. May someone reading this make the beautiful exchange right now.”

Listen to my words, Lord, Consider my sighing. Listen to the sound of my cry for help, my King and my God, For to You I pray.

~Psalm 5:1-2

I was recently talking with my sweet stepmother about our respective ongoing physical woes. She recently injured her back and has slowly and steadily been on the path back to the golf course—I mean, recovery. We shared how we are praying for one another…for medical team wisdom, for strength and comfort, and, of course, for perfect healing. Then she made a seemingly off-the-cuff comment that I quickly disputed: She said, “I never pray for myself.” And after hanging up, it got me thinking more about how common that is among believers. How when we recognize our sinful thoughts and actions, we do ask for forgiveness from the Lord, and we repent. But how many of us forgo prayers of direction, wisdom, healing, and help for ourselves?

Then, of course, there’s the apprehension to tell God how we really feel during our prayer time: our frustration, confusion, even anger…or the fact that some or all of these emotions are directed toward Him. Spoiler alert, sweet friends: He already knows. 

The Lord’s desire is for us to be real with Him. To pull out all our self-directed worries, fears, anger, confusion, frustration, trepidation, etc. See, once we drag those things into the light, out of those dark corners where the enemy of our soul can feed and grow them, we can take them to God’s very throne room! Not only has the Lord been waiting for us to expose and admit this stuff, but He’s been waiting to take these heavy burdens from us—and, ultimately, allow these prayers to be transformed to thanksgiving and praise of His Sovereignty. 

We’re given clear examples of this in the Psalms from the “man after God’s own heart”—David. It’s believed that David wrote at least 73 of the 150 Psalms, and we don’t have to turn too far into the book of Psalms to see how David prays for himself—and how these prayers always turn to praise. Even the very, very hard ones.

Start at the beginning by reading Psalms 3 through 7. David cries out to the Lord on his own behalf. He’s often very specific about his circumstances, his feelings, and even what he’d really, really, like God to do to his enemies. (See what are known as the “imprecatory” prayers, such as Psalm 35:6; 58:6; 55:15; 69:28, and 109:8. Pretty enlightening.) But every time, these beautiful and profound prayers end with David’s recognition of God’s attributes, like His holiness, sovereignty, power, and righteousness. Dive deeply into Psalm 6, for instance, where David cries out for healing. His “bones are in agony” and his “soul in deep anguish”. And he asks, “How long, Lord, how long?” Does this resonate with your spirit? I know it does mine. In verses 8 and 9, David says, “the Lord has heard my weeping” and “the Lord has heard my cry for mercy.” 

Psalm 13 is a wonderful summarizing prayer of this truth that illustrates our ability to cry out to God with our real feels, to ask for answers, and then—most vitally—to proclaim trust in God’s faithfulness. Because He never fails us. And, the woes, the tears, the begging, it all turns to singing because our Lord is wholly holy, perfectly loving, absolutely righteous. We can cast our cares on Him because He cares for us (1 Peter 5:7). We give Him our burden, because His yoke is light (Matthew 11:28-29). And we cry on His shoulder, because He wipes away our every tear (Revelation 7:17).

I highly recommend you dive into the book of Psalms if you have not yet studied it. There is a treasure trove of wisdom, explicit prayers we can use, truths about God, and prophetic promises fulfilled. And always know, you do not have to omit “me” prayers! The Lord wants you to share your heart with Him, unburden your soul, so He can turn your pain and sorrow into praise and dancing (Psalm 30:11).

Lord, thank You that You care for me so deeply—more than I can fathom. May I find the freedom to cry out to you in my own need, suffering, and questioning.

“These things I have spoken to you so that My joy may be in you, and that your joy may be made full.”  

~John 15:11

I was just looking at some photos from a couple of years ago when my husband went skydiving for his birthday. Just viewing the series of 179 images brought me through a rollercoaster of emotions: anticipation, dread, thrill, fear, anxiety, and joy, to name a few. Then I started thinking about how the whole adventure can be likened to the Christian life. Let me explain with words as I literally look through the pics…

The first pics are of my hubby in the airplane, filled with a mix of excitement and terror. This is like our life as earth-dwellers, isn’t it? We fly through this world making choices that bring us to new heights. And sometimes our journey has sudden dips that make us a bit nauseated. There are times of exhilaration and times of fear. (Now maybe to make this part of the analogy more accurate, we’d be flying the plane ourselves. But then there’s the whole pre-destination vs. free will argument that could ensue, so I’ll keep this metaphor at a 30,000-foot view—pun intended.)

Then I came to the shots of the actual jump from the airplane. Ah, the moment of real faith. He exited the known to soar into the unknown. All control out of his hands—he surrendered all. This is like the moment we put our trust in Jesus as Lord and Savior! We give up trying to do life our way (and the world’s way) and yield to the Lord’s sovereignty. It’s definitely a leap of faith, giving it all to Jesus. A step into the unknown. We leave the comfort of doing things like everyone else for the thrill of doing things God’s way. Is there trepidation? Yes! Are there stomach-drops of fear? Of course! Oh, but this is when life’s journey amps up, with joys unspeakable and peace that passes understanding.

I didn’t mention this before, but it really brings home the faith analogy: When he leapt from the airplane into the atmosphere, my husband was not alone. He was actually safely and tightly strapped to an expert skydiver. This man helped direct the freefall, knowing when to move his arms and legs certain ways. He also wore an altimeter, determining the right time to pull the cord to open the chute. Then, although my hubby’s emotional balance may have swung from fear to joy (knowing the death-defying freefall was over), the guy on his back still controlled the rest of the journey to earth. (Are you smiling with the ah-ha moment yet?)

When we take our leap of faith into the Christian life, it can be scary not knowing what we’re getting ourselves into. But, sweet friend, we are never on our own in this adventure! Jesus is strapped to our back, so to speak. In fact, we are given God in the Person of the Holy Spirit to live in us, to guide and direct us through every moment. Yes, there is pain and fear and anxiety. But He’s got us, so even through our tribulations and challenges of the world, we can confidently know that He has overcome the world (John 16:33)! He’s right there with us to comfort us, quell our fears, and wipe away our tears. And we can know that this adventure holds incredible pleasures, highs of joy, and deep satisfaction. And the proverbial “Man on our back” is there to belly laugh right along with us.

Now, I realize this skydiving analogy isn’t perfect. But I do hope in it you sense the delight of the Christian life—and the fact that you are never, ever alone (Romans 8:38-39). Or if you’ve been walking (soaring) with the Lord for a while, I pray that you’re able to recapture the sheer thrill of when you first took that leap. And what’s really cool to think of is where this analogy can go, especially as I flip to the photos of when my husband’s feet hit solid ground. Maybe it’s because I’m currently studying Revelation and reading a theological book on Heaven…but, oh, when Jesus speaks into existence the New Heaven and New Earth, I imagine our reaction to look similar to my husband’s face in those pics. It reads something like, “Wow, that experience was unbelievably thrilling…but, I’m so very glad to be Home, where the real adventure awaits.”

Lord, help me remember that You are with me through my journey through this broken world, giving me strength, courage, and hope. And remind me daily that the Real Adventure with You is yet to come.