Tuesday, January 26, 2021

 Humility and the Fear of the Lord

"Do this and live, for I fear God" (Gen 42:18)

In reading Genesis 41-42 today, I saw how God was able to use years of slavery and imprisonment to teach Joseph how to walk in the fear of the Lord. His mindset beautifully reflected submission and humility as he gave stipulations to his brothers and responded to Pharaoh about interpreting his dreams declaring, "It is not in me; God will give Pharaoh a favorable answer" (41:6). While Joseph knew that any ability to discern truth from a dream could never come from following his own heart (40:8), he also trusted that God was willing and able to speak through him. Pharaoh also saw that Joseph was a "discerning and wise" man not because he was so amazing, but because the "Spirit of God" was indwelling him (41:38:39).

I'm reminded afresh today that true humility is not diminishing the gifting and graces that God has given us but instead a desire and commitment to magnify God rather than ourselves as we use them for his glory (Col 3:23). This kind of humility is inextricably linked to the fear of the Lord, which God says is the "beginning of wisdom" (Prov 9:10). As we humble ourselves before him, standing in awe of his greatness and power, his Spirit reminds us (like he did Joseph) that apart from him we can do nothing, but that in and through him we can do all things (Jn 15:5, Phil 4:13). 

Monday, January 25, 2021


God's Abounding Grace

Genesis 38-40

In reading through Genesis 38-40 today, I was newly reminded of the Lord's ongoing blessings in Jospeh's life as I traced the thread of his abounding grace, woven through deep betrayals and seemingly hopeless situations. As he sat at the bottom of a pit, God graciously delivered him from death and to a possibly safer place than with his jealous brothers. When he was locked up in a prison cell, God provided a divine appointment with the cupbearer who later spoke of him to the Pharaoh. As he rose to leadership in a foreign country away from his family, God positioned him to rescue them from famine and death. In his absolute, unchanging goodness, God never desired for his brothers to sell him into slavery or for Pharaoh's wife to lie about him or for the cupbearer to break his promise. But at the same time, he sovereignly used these evils to fulfill his even better plans. What looked like a series of unfortunate events were instead God's tools for blessing, which Joseph eventually realized and testified to in the presence of his brothers. 

God was able to use the horrible -- hatred, betrayal, slavery, slander, isolation, prison and living in exile -- to fulfill his covenantal promises to Joseph and his family as he transformed these evils by his abounding grace. Jospeh's life was blessed and full of grace, not just when he was elevated to leadership in Egypt, but even before he was "knit together in [his] mother's womb" (Ps 139:13-14). God's hesed love could and would not be hindered by intense suffering or persecution. In fact, these difficulties only worked to shine a greater light on God's grace and favor. 

Like Joseph, all of us who are "in Christ" have his promise of covenantal faithfulness and the assurance that his loving plans for us cannot be thwarted. He guarantees us that no on can take us from his hand (Jn 10:28-30) and that he is able to use all that is bad in our lives -- the betrayals, injustices and suffering -- to bless us and bring glory to his name (Rom 8:28). Our challenge, like Joseph's, is to resist the urge to define God's character and purpose for our lives based on our circumstances rather than allowing his proven love and abounding grace to be the starting point for all our understanding (Prov 3:5-6). 

Joseph had a choice to put his trust in his circumstances or to keep his eyes on God, and he chose the greater portion. When circumstances threaten to define us as victims and God as anything other that who he says he is, we can choose by faith to resist by standing on God's promises and trusting in his proven character, declaring with complete confidence that "The Lord is upright, he is my Rock, and there is no wickedness in him" (Ps 92:15).

"And God is able to make all grace abound to you, so that in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work" (2 Cor 9:8). 


Friday, January 31, 2020

Waiting Rooms


Since I was about six years old I dreaded going to the doctor -- not so much for the actual visit, but because I really hated waiting rooms. Sitting in a sterile and drab office lined with uncomfortable chairs and stacks of old magazines gave me a hemmed in feeling. Depending on how long I’d have to stay, my patience would give out and I’d start to panic, somehow thinking I’d never get out.

As a Christ follower, I’m often in a similar place – only it’s God’s waiting room. I can’t just cancel the appointment or leave when I’m tired of waiting if I want to experience the blessing of His peace and presence. I’m there until it’s time to move on, which usually means learning important life lessons and developing a deeper level of trust and dependence. 

Like all waiting rooms, spiritual ones require special grace and patience. I believe this is true for several reasons. 

They don't tell time. Uncertainty about how long I’ll be in a place I do not want to be waiting for God to break through with deliverance is uncomfortable to say the least. God uses these ambiguous situations to test my faith, challenging me to grow and mature to become more like Christ (Jas 1:3-4). When I enter a season of waiting, my initial response is to look for a way of escape, much like the Israelites did (Ex 32).

During our first year in Korea, I was often tempted to doubt God’s wisdom in leading us there. I'd wake up many mornings convinced we had somehow missed God’s leading and come to the wrong place. As a result, I developed a back-up plan for bailing out and returning to the states. I fell into a pattern of rehearsing our quick escape -- how we could pack, book tickets, move back into our house, and put the girls in their previous school with an almost seamless transition. The more I dwelt on this, the less I was able to trust God and more miserable I became.

My husband knew from experience that running from the uncomfortable was not a good idea, and he challenged me to trust the Lord and wait on him. I slowly began to see that making a rash decision to leave would mean forfeiting God’s grace, which led me to repentance. By finally acknowledging that his ways were higher than mine, and his thoughts far greater than my own, I begin to come into agreement with the mindset of the Spirit that I was where I was for purposes beyond my understanding (Rom 11:33-36). This mindset led me to submit to God and present myself as his living sacrifice, willing to do what he called me to do and wait as long as he called me to wait (Rom 12:1-2).  As I exercised the gift of faith in his goodness, he began reminding me that his plans for my life were good and designed to make me mature and complete, lacking nothing (Jer 29:11, Jas 1:4).

They're restrictive. Waiting rooms leave us feeling hemmed in or trapped, and this at times can lead to panic. I like to do things quickly and move on, which obviously isn't the pace of waiting rooms. Instead, the interval can feel long and tedious. I’m always free to go, but running ahead or from God is never the right choice. He wants me to wait patiently so He can prepare me and others for the next step.

One of my overused lines while we were in Korea was, “I no longer have grace for this.” My husband would give me a look that said, “Oh really?” He didn’t have to say any words because I knew what he was thinking – that if and when it was time for my season of waiting to end God would let us both know. And until that time I DID have grace, but I had to choose by God’s gift of faith to stand in it.

I remember going to the local Korean hospital for tests and had to wait a long time to see the specialist. When I walked into the room and saw it was filled with people my heart started pounding with a sense of panic about being hemmed in a room with so many people speaking a language I could not understand.  Even though I had no idea how long they had been waiting, the room felt tense and unwelcoming.

Though my gut response was to panic, I remembered one of my students who usually sat with his eyes closed while he was waiting for class to start. His face always looked calm and peaceful, which spoke volumes to me. Because he was a Christian, I assumed he was practicing resting in God’s presence through prayer while he waited.

As I thought about him, I sensed the Lord nudging me to try sitting still and praying.  I found a seat in the back of the room where I reluctantly plopped down, closed my eyes and went over the Lord’s Prayer and as many verses as I could remember. I had to wait almost an hour, but by focusing on truth instead of my frustrating situation I endured it with a lot more grace that I had in the past.

I realized God was giving me a snapshot of what resting in a place of uncertainty looked like so I would start applying it to more of my life – no matter how long I had to wait. I also realized that the same peace I was experiencing there was mine for the longer duration if I’d learn to trust in God’s timing and refuse to fret. 

They test our hope for deliverance. In the waiting room of a doctor’s office there’s a high probability that I’ll see the doctor and leave at some point in the day. With God, I realize that the timing is not so clear, which often leaves me wondering how long I’ll have to wait. I know from experience that it could be a day, months or even years.  

I prayed for five years as I waited for God to bring Mark into my life. During this time I cried a lot and even started praying several times a day that God would send the man he wanted for me. Some days and weeks dragged on to the point that I didn’t think I could wait any longer. I would meet someone, think they were God’s answer, and start moving forward in the relationship only to hit a wall of disappointment when it did not work out. Then I would return to the waiting room, where I had to continually learn what it meant to be still and know that he is God, not me.

Twenty seven years later, I’m more thankful for that time of waiting and preparation than any other season in my life. For one, I’d never have been ready to marry until I matured some more and dealt with severe pain from my past. Plus, God used that season for me to study and learn about his character as I was pursuing a master’s degree in theology. When we met, I was spiritually and emotionally ready, not perfect, to commit the rest of my life to marriage and having a family. I cannot say that I would have been able to persevere through some of our challenging trials if I had not learned what I did while I was waiting on God.

They expose stubbornness. As a child, I used to have melt downs in waiting rooms, begging my mom to get me out. Even as an adult I’ve left doctor’s offices before my appointment because the waiting was taking up too much time. Instead of giving thanks, seeing the time as a chance to recharge, read and have some quiet, I would grumble.

My relationship with God is incredibly similar. For the past many years I’ve been in one season of waiting after the other: waiting to get married, to have children, to see them mature and grow up; waiting for friendships to flourish, for relationships to heal, for greater wisdom and understanding to live in a way that honors God.
Our last year in Korea was another time of intense struggle as I weekly pleaded with God, often on my face with cries of desperation, that He would open the door for us to return to the states. With our son in Alabama and both girls in college in North Carolina, the distance carved a hole in my heart that seemed to expand and ache more each day. I came to a new end of my ability to press on in my own strength and began clinging to God for moment by moment grace just to get through the day.

When I chose on some days not to trust His timing and pushed Him away, I immediately fell into a pit of anger and despair (a miserable place to be if you haven’t experienced it). After wearing myself out wrestling with God, I would come back to a place of surrender, trust and thankfulness. It’s there that I found peace and assurance in His unchanging goodness and promise to deliver me at the right minute – not a second too early or late.

He finally did open the door for us to come home to be with our family. As I look back on those years of waiting, I can see how He used them to radically change me in ways that never could have happened otherwise. Through some painful and often seemingly unbearable times I am learning to trust God more, to persevere in His strength instead of my own and to rest in His timing, knowing that He’s in charge, overseeing my life with tender care and compassion.

“Wait for the Lord; be strong, and let your heart take courage; wait for the Lord!” Ps 27:14