As human power and achievement grow, our capacity to see God decreases. In areas torn apart by war and disaster you learn to depend on God quickly, instinctively. You run to him. Our advancements do nothing but cloud our vision from that which is essential to our souls. Our minds remain numbly distracted. And a sick emptiness consumes us as our heart senses the impending doom.
Escape. Break free. Run to God as fast as you can. Your soul depends upon it.
As a husband and a father, I am called to be a king and a priest in my home (Rev 1:5-6). One of the main responsibilities of a king is to protect his queen, which in my case is my wife.
Men like to think of themselves as heroic. I like to think that I am a knight in shining armor that fights for my wife and family against the outside forces of evil. But the greatest threat often comes from within.
When I rise up, with God’s Spirit giving me strength, it is to protect my wife from the harm that I can cause her. I am potentially the most dangerous element in her life, as I am already on the inside.
So kings, protect your queen from your ego, insecurity, infidelity, and pride. Protect your home from your selfishness, vanity, and envy.
Rise up kings! Protect your queen from the harm that you might cause her. The King of kings shows you the way.
Be a lion, be a lamb – and lay down your life for the one you love.
We sometimes wonder: how can God allow the world’s atrocities to occur? Why the suffering, killing, torture, and fear? I don’t have an answer, but I do offer a reflection.
Viktor Frankl was a WWII concentration camp survivor, psychiatrist, and writer. Early in Frankl’s book, Man’s Search For Meaning, he makes an astonishing statement. Frankl says that ALL the good people died in the camps. Every last one.
Here’s the reflection: The greatest evil is conquered by an even greater good.
So I imagine the scenario. The camp prison guard is approaching my group. I know that if I don’t move, I will be taken and executed. If I move, maybe even just a little bit, another person will be taken instead. What do I do?
Can I stand still?
For how much less do I move out of the line of fire in my life? How often do I flee to protect my ego and insecurity? Is this the life I want to save?
Father, give me the strength to hold my ground as did your Son. Let me lose my life. In obedience to you.
“He who finds his life will lose it, and he who loses his life for My sake will find it.” (Matthew 10:39)
Image source (modified).
When driving in Buenos Aires whoever is carrying more speed into an intersection generally has the right of way. If your vehicle is really big (or old, like mine) then you also can enjoy right of way status. I’ve seen power passing into the oncoming traffic lane countless times. Sometimes, if you don’t run the red light, you might get rear ended by someone on your bumper expecting this kind of behavior.
Once in a while though, you get behind a really slow driver. How does this make me react? I’m usually in a hurry, so I get restless. I am temped to honk or pass or at least fume impatiently.
But what if I was following my boss in the car ahead of me? Or what if it was my mother? Or a king? How would may attitude be then? I would be respectful and humble of course.
That’s how Jesus works. He’s always behind us, waiting on us. Respectfully. Humbly. He treats us like kings.
Follow the true King. Let him show you the most excellent way.
When you need to clean up a spill, what do you reach for? You grab a rag. You don’t clean up a mess with a gold ring. There are times when only a rag will do — to clean up an oil spill, broken eggs, or even a puppy’s accident.
How many times do I want to be a brilliant diamond trying to do the job of a scrap of cloth?
A rag does what it’s user asks of it, no matter what the task. And when the job is done, the rag gets tossed into a corner, out of sight, and idle until its master has need of it again.
Can I be the Lord’s dirty rag? Can I respond willingly? Can I stay put?
Isaiah 64 says that all our righteous acts are but filthy rags. Our best efforts compared to God are nothing. But when his strong hand picks me up, I am useful.
To clean, restore, luster… or even bandage a wound.
Let me be your hand rag Lord. Use me as you will.
And when the time comes you will cleanse me and ring out all the dampness.
By your hand, I will be white as snow again.
Image source (image altered by Vincent Chough).
I’m launching a new anxiety help blog site.
Check it out here.
If anyone is interested in contributing, let me know!
Thank you and many blessings.