Tag: Christianity

Control

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“A man without self-control is like a city broken into and left without walls.” – Proverbs 25:28, ESV

I’ve been the lie that tells them if they can hold on to me, they’ll have it all. They won’t need to worry, they won’t need to plot or plan, because I will be in their grasp.

I was there in the garden, the temptation of the power struggle. I was there as the king went mad, growing angrier, going after God’s chosen one. I was there in the back of their minds, through every person in power. They needed me, they vied for me.

And sometimes, even though they had me, it ruined them.

They would sit closest to the guest of honor but be directed back to different seats. They would be kings, holding the highest power, only to find themselves dethroned. They would scoff at prophecies then drown in the sea. And then the one, my master, would tempt a man on a mountain only to be defeated by the same man through a bloody cross and an empty tomb.

Control stands with pride. But the humble will be lifted with honor.

“But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control; against such things there is no law.” – Galatians 5:22-23, ESV

Anxiety, fear, grief, anger. It sometimes feels like all emotions roll into one. It’s easy to be overwhelmed and frustrated, grasping for a feeling, trying desperately to hold onto something that feels so impossibly out of reach.

I’ve been alone too long. I’ve been independent too long. I like things to go my way, and when they don’t, I get disturbed. If there’s the slightest disturbance, the slightest interruption, I get thrown off balance and am pushed down by the anxiety of trying to gain a semblance of control.

We pride ourselves for it. We acknowledge our age, and claim that the older we are, the wiser we are – and the more control we have. We vie to get promotions that will give us more control. We compete for it; we kill for it. Countries are in turmoil because of it.

I fight for it. It’s the combination of being scarred by your past, being scarred by anxiety and fear. All of the frustrations of life, all of the things that went wrong. Loss. I think nothing triggers it like loss.

You’ve lost someone or something, so you do all that you know to hang on to everything and everyone else. To not let go. To do all that you can to ensure that everything else goes your way, because it simply must.

You need your space to ensure everything goes your way. You have your goals, your lists. You eat those things to prevent that. You go that place instead of the place you long to, because of fear and the news. You don’t take the risks. You insist on driving, because surely things will be safer in your hands.

Deep down, you know. Because deep down, there’s this fear that has a stronghold over your life, unyielding and demanding. And if you don’t listen to it, if you don’t succumb, you’ll lose again.

This thing that plagues you, that overwhelms you…. It’s called control.

Control is demanding, it’s suffocating. And when the control you think that you have fails, it’s heartbreaking.

But are we ever truly in control? Can we actually be the god of something? Is that what God intended?

Or did He intend us to be fully broken, holy surrender? Did He intend for us to cast our cares upon Him, for He cares for us. To acknowledge Him and trust in His faithfulness. To know that this, too, shall pass. That the Creator of Heaven and Earth loves us so much that the things we grasp for should always be in His hands, no matter what.

Because maybe surrendering our petty control to Jesus is the greatest thing we could ever do.  

We do face frustration though. We do have situations in our lives where we grasp for control, begging and pleading for things, for situations, to finally work out. Or for situations to end. For the things that frustrate us to stop.

The company that’s overstayed their welcome. The person who thinks you’re friends, but deep down you don’t trust them, and you’re overwhelmed. Your finances and your budget.

But you can’t control the way others think. You can’t control the path of the major hurricane. You can’t stop that driver from drinking before they go on the road.

You can do the best you can. You can be the nicest person you can be, because you are the hands and feet of Jesus. You can prepare your home the best you can, with hurricane shutters and sandbags, etc. You can be aware of your driving, defensive of those around you, anticipating but praying for the best. Constantly on guard, knowing you did the best that you could. But at the end of the day, knowing that One who is far greater than you is ultimately in control. He sees things we can’t. He gives you the wisdom to say your no, the instinct to leave town. And sometimes that very frustrated feeling of running late because you can’t find your keys, then you catch every red light possible. But you didn’t know the other person on the road – He did. He saw what you couldn’t. So when you drive by that accident, you don’t realize who was protecting you from it all along.

As Christians, we constantly have to face accusations and attacks from the accuser of our souls. We will have trouble in this world (John 16:33). But somewhere, there’s a balance. Because while we will have trouble, while we are being attacked, we are still being protected, shielded – if we trust Jesus and surrender to Him. Nothing can happen unless it goes through Jesus. Every good thing is from Him, by Him and for His glory. He knows what the future holds, when it holds, and how it holds. He is trustworthy. We face so many frustrations, and it’s so very easy to wonder why so very much. But the Author of Creation anticipates things because He is already in the future. When things don’t go our way, when we feel like we’re losing control and overwhelmed with anxiety, we have to humble ourselves and remember that He has plans to give us a “hope and a future” (Jeremiah 29:11). Jesus is in control. Let God be God. No one could ever be better at His job than Him.

Control is a temptation, a fleeting idea, that consumes us and takes us away from what really matters. We long for traffic to go our way (i.e., that there won’t be any). We long for friends and family to come and go when we want them to, to stay for how long (or short) we want them to. To do the things that we want them to. For the promotion that we want when we want it. For the trips to go as planned. For everything and everyone to go our way and do what we desire.

Control takes us away from what matters. And that’s time. Time being safe, knowing God has a plan when the timing seems off. Time being with our friends and family, because we may not know how much longer we’ll have them for. Time with Jesus, because being still and listening and humbling ourselves is the best, healthiest thing that we can do. And only in that stillness, only in the trusting in Jesus, will we find hope and peace. Control matters not. Giving God control is the greatest decision we can ever make.

Control, by the standards of this world, is a mess. It’s a power struggle, but there’s never enough. People in power want more power. Those fighting for their rights only want more. It’s a never-ending pit, a well that goes deeper and deeper into the unknown. And when things finally seem to go your way, there may be a modicum of satisfaction, then it ends. Because there’s more. There’s always someone above you. There’s always someone with another opinion, another criticism. Another frustration comes up and you’re bogged down in traffic, and you just. Cant. Breathe.

This world’s idea of control is a frustrating battle for superiority that will never grant you satisfaction.

But when you humble yourself. When you truly humble yourself and surrender and let the Author of Creation take control, only then will you find peace.

Because when Christ, the Author of Life, is in control, it’s His perfect will being done. For good and not for evil. For a hope, and a future. There is always peace that surpasses understanding. There is always hope for a future. There is a longing for more, but it’s a refreshing longing in our souls because we humbly know that our circumstances on earth are not the end. Jesus and His Kingdom are. With God in control, we can take heart, knowing that He has overcome the world. With God in control, we can know that all things work together for our good. With God in control, we can know that the earth’s circumstances, wars, competitions, fights, angry people, competitive people, are just temporary. Because we’re just strangers passing through.

And we vie as a society to find a way to live forever. For Jesus, we should absolutely be taking care of our bodies because they are a gift from Him, and they are His temple. But while we can control the good and bad foods, the good and bad exercise, the good and bad of our bodies – we know that He is the Author of Life and He is ultimately in control of it all. He has a purpose for everything. A time and a place And Jesus is good, all the time. We might not understand it or be able to comprehend what it is that He’s doing, but, in grace, there’s a mystery of faith and trust where we have to rely solely on the King who created us. And trust that He will never fail us.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                               

“For the grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation for all people, training us to renounce ungodliness and wordly passions, and to live self-controlled, upright, and godly lives in the present age.” – Titus 2:11-12, ESV

She was overwhelmed with preparations, knowing what had to be done and when. Her hands were busy like her mind, fixing the food, frustrated with her sister. She needed help, even though she had everything all planned out.

Yet there her sister sat, at His feet, hanging on to every word He said! She longed to too. But things couldn’t be put on hold to be still, now could they?

Surely, her sister was wrong in her lack of generosity, not helping. Women were supposed to stick together and anticipate the needs of their sisters. Yet her own wasn’t anticipating her needs. Selfish that she was.

In her frustration and struggle, she made a comment to their guest. Thee, he humbled her. He reminded her of what was important. He reminded her that her tasks at hand with firm to do lists and jobs for her sister were not that important. The important thing was to be still before Him.

After all, how often is it that the long-awaited Messiah chooses to visit you?

“But Martha was distracted by the big dinner she was preparing. She came to Jesus and said, ‘Lord, doesn’t it seem unfair to you that my sister just sits here while I do all the work? Tell her to come help me.’ But the Lord said to her, ‘My dear Martha, you are worried and upset over all these details! There is only one thing worth being concerned about. Mary has discovered it, and it will not be taken away from her.’” – Luke 10:40 – 42, NLT

Peace

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“Now may the Lord of peace Himself give you His peace at all times and in every situation.” – 2 Thessalonians 3:16, NLT

This world, it feels like it’s closing in on me at every second. The dreams-dashed there, the heartbreak from losses and grief. The scheming rulers of the world, and everything to do with social media.

It distracts, and it does it’s very best to destroy any and all peace we may have. We get so bombarded with things at every corner. We get told what to do by influencers, then by those around us. Those wanting to give helpful advice, but only ruining the plans and dreams we used to have. We go to those we think we can trust, only to wonder if they’re saying things and giving advice for their own desires, or if it really is genuine.

But peace, what of it? If we watch the news for even a second, it’s disrupted and destroyed. If we give breadth to our worries and entertain our list of tasks and all the things we’ve failed to accomplish, there is no peace to be found.

But what if it’s more than that? What if peace transcends all the circumstances of this world? What if peace, like joy, is supposed to be right there with us, engrained in us, stamped on our hearts, throughout every circumstance in this life?

That we can watch the news, we can hear advice from those we don’t agree with, we can see devastation and disruption and go down the black hole of doom scrolling, we can see the hurricanes develop and the spaghetti models plot and swerve toward us. But what if, in the midst of all of that, we still have peace?

Because… we’re supposed to.

As Christians, it’s our spiritual birthright. When we repent of our sins and accept Jesus into our hearts, we have the Holy Spirit in us. Living inside of us, speaking through us, writing through us, loving through us. And giving us His peace that surpasses all understanding.

Peace, because Jesus has forgiven us for all of our sins. Peace because the Savior of the world knows the plans that He has for us. Peace because “by His wounds we are healed” (Isaiah 53:5). Peace because we know that we are just strangers passing through. Peace because the one who lives in us is far greater than anything or anyone in this world. Peace because we know that this isn’t the end. Peace because Heaven is far better and eternity, for those in Christ, is more wonderful than we could ever possibly imagine.

Jesus in us, the Prince of Peace.

This world will always bring storms. The enemy is alive (though he’s been defeated by the resurrection of Christ, and we know how eternity goes for Satan – it does not). But with the little time he has left, he’s doing all he can to steal, kill and destroy. To rob us of peace. He loves nothing more to steal it from Christians and test their faith.

I think that nothing terrifies the enemy more (aside from Jesus), than true followers of Jesus with unwavering faith and unshakable peace. The ones who have God’s Word so embedded in and written on their hearts, that no matter how vile and horrific this world grows, they can’t be shaken or concerned because the circumstance of eternity far outweighs the temporary anger of the world.

It’s the stormy sea surrounded by wind and rain. But when the sun shows and the clouds go away, and the wind stills, it’s calm and clear.

As Christians, we have the Son in us, living in us. Though there are lots of clouds, wind and rain – we need not be affected. Because the one who is Peace dwells in us, forget the outside circumstances of this world. Focus on the Son. Rejoice in the peace that He alone gives.

But what is peace?

Where do you find it?

As Christians, we’re told it’s our spiritual birthright. Something we’re supposed to lay claim to, to hold on to. To have it in the middle of the worst circumstances. To seek it, because we know our Creator.

To be confident in our knowledge of it, so we can rebuke the outside noises of the world.

Peace.

This world seems desperate for it.

Every day we’re hearing about world leaders and how fallen they are. We’re hearing of wars and threats of wars. Of pestilences and plagues. Of people, celebrities, making mistakes. Of wrecks and shootings and other unimaginable tragedies.

Then we turn around and wonder where God is. We’ve removed Him out of schools, banned Him from sporting events, mocked Him as we try to find answers for and explain everything, because it must’ve happened without some grand Designer.

Then we argue for peace. We want wars to stop, but He’s no longer welcomed in our countries. We want violence to stop, but the music and games and movies encourage it and even glorify it.

We’re so consumed with our gains and our desires that we forget to humble ourselves to the one who is over all, living through all and above all.

We kick God to the curb and then blame Him for a world without peace

How to we obtain it? Fight for it? Men search their whole lives for it and wage wars for it. People spend thousands and thousands of dollars on vacations thinking that they’ll finally have a “moment’s peace” there. They move and spend millions of dollars thinking that their new house will give them peace. But maybe it’s true that we’ll never be content running to different places if we can’t find contentment during present circumstances of life.

What is peace? Or who is peace? Can anyone actually have peace that surpasses understanding?

“Peace I leave with you, My peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your heart be troubled neither let it be afraid.” -John 14:27, NKJV

“I have told you these things, so that in Me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart!  I have overcome the world.” – John 16:33, NIV

“In peace I will lie down and sleep, for you alone, Lord, make me dwell in safety.” – Psalm 4:8, NIV

What if peace, much like joy, is something not based on circumstance, but fully anchored in Christ?

Jesus is the Lord of Peace. The Prince of Peace. The one who gives us peace that surpasses understanding.

He acknowledged that we would have trouble in this world. In fact, it’s a promise. Because this world is fallen. It’s filled with sin, wickedness, turmoil. For as long as Satan is Satan, sin is sin and human nature is prevalent, there will always be disruption and disorder of every kind.

But the good news? The good news is The Good News.

Christians do not have to fear the circumstances of this world. We don’t have to go down the rabbit hole of bad news on reels and other videos, proclaiming toxins in our food, alien abductions and space storms.

Yes, in this world we will have trouble. People in this world will always have trouble. But we serve the Messiah who has overcome the world. The one who promises peace.

The one who stepped into our world to bear our scars, our worries, our sickness an sins. So that we could have a relationship with Him and that we can know Him.

Then He went to the cross so that we might always know peace.

This world will throw everything at us. As Christians, we will continuously be attacked by a very real enemy who comes to steal, kill and destroy. But with Jesus, with knowing Him, with knowing the eternity He died and rose to give us, we can live forever with hope and peace. Because Jesus gives us wisdom. He guides us. He protects us from more things we can ever possibly comprehend. And He is with us always, He knows and He understands what we’re going through.

But Jesus.

This world might be in utter chaos. For those who know His word, this world will only get worse. But we have the secret. We have, and know, the answer. We can live forever in hope and peace because of Jesus. Because “the Coming One will come and not delay.” – Hebrews 10:37-38, NLT

This world is not our home. The circumstances do not define our lives. The verdict on earth does not compare to Christ’s “well done” in Heaven.

We are strangers passing through. But we have the secret: Christ in us, the Hope of Glory – who will see us through all things. He goes before us and stands behind us. Nothing can happen without going through Him.

And He will protect us and keep us safe, all the days of our lies. We just need to focus on Him and fix our eyes on the King of Glory.

Because this is temporary. The peace that we get to hold onto is the promise of Jesus, the Prince of Peace. The Prince of Peace is our Anchor, our Defender, our Protector. So how could we ever let our hearts be troubled or afraid?

“Dear brothers and sisters, I close my letter with these last words: Be joyful. Grow in maturity. Encourage each other. Live in harmony and peace. Then the God of love and peace will be with you.” – 2 Corinthians 13:11, NLT

I was the storm. Unwilling and unrelenting, I reacted to the skies, the wind above me. I reflected their status. I was luxury when the sun was out and calm when the sky was the perfect shade of blue. But certain clouds would come and I’d splash and grow to a deeper blue in certain spots. Wind would blow and the waves grew higher. Then the wind with the clouds, darker this time, and more blue, then so blue I was almost back – but the waves would lift and white foam would surround and overwhelm.

On the sunny, clear days I would be calm; on the surface and throughout. But with this, with my job to reflect, the outer turmoil failed to compare to what went on inside me. Fish and leviathans rolled about, being splashed from their homes. Corals and other rocks would break apart, my waves rolling them haphazardly onto shore. The boats that took my path with toss and turn, and sometimes wreck.

I reflected what went on around me. And that reflection affected everything in me, the shore surrounding me, and the living things near me.

I reflected the world. The wind, the weather, the rains. Men got sick and worried as they sailed on me, but their thoughts and cries were useless as they could never tame me.

Only the howling wind, only the sun and the clouds.

I was merciless. Lured people in by the clarity, but the outside forces could turn that clarity into a destructive war.

The most powerful, mysterious force. Tales were told about me. I was revered and feared, though people dared to brave my mighty roars.  No man could possibly understand my depths, my darkness and the creatures that lurked within me. No man could possibly understand how to tame the wind and the waves.

Ships would throw anchors, and no matter how strong they thought they were, how secure, the right storm could blow it all away. One harsh wave could wipe them out. Enough jostling and war on the surface would wreak havoc all the way down to their precious anchor and it would be uprooted.

No one could possibly tame this force. No one could. Except the One who spoke me into being. No one except the Creator. My Creator.

I was there in the formless void. I was there in the flood. I was there as He swept up and parted the Red Sea.

And then, years and years and timeless times later there was more rain, wind, and the darkest of clouds. A boat was tossed about, the men on it fearing for their lives. The storm raged, whipping me and therefore their boat all about. My mighty waves crashed and broke over their boat, nearly drowning them.

But then one of them appeared, a new one, in a calmness I had never witnessed before.

“Peace! Be still!”

The wind ceased and the clouds evaporated, and my waves stilled immediately at His words.

There was a great calm, a calm unlike anything I had ever known. Peace. Be still.

I was at peace, I was still. All the way to my very depths.

All the outside forces that had forever affected me; all of the hounding winds, pounding rain which caused the mightiest roar were still.  Were at peace. Finally. All because of Him. Surely, He had to be the Prince of Peace!

“Now may the Lord of peace Himself give you peace at all times in every way. The Lord be with you all.” (VERSE) – 2 Thessalonians 3:16, ESV

Structure

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-Structure-

“Let all things be done decently and in order.” – 1 Corinthians 14:40, KJV

Even in the formless void, I was still there, looming in the darkness. Pressing on the people. Then He spoke and the good, binding part of me came to light. I was being formed, molded. This created, good side of me would carry throughout His creation, the intricacy and webs of creation, the essence of what was holding life.

But I bloomed into other things, into words. Words that were pure and good, but that people would use to their own advantage, for their own malicious ways. Everything that wasn’t true or pure or good. People’s flesh, their motives, working and holding and biding and judging. They had their plans, they knew what to expect. Or so they thought.

But then He came.

“Don’t copy the behavior and customs of this word, but let God transform you into a new person by changing the way you think. Then you will learn to know God’s will for you, which is good and pleasing and perfect.” – Romans 12:2, NLT

I didn’t want to notice my neighbor’s structure. Not the physical structure of their house, but the structure in her life. But as the weeks turned into months of hearing a certain noise or having my yard get water from under their gate particular days of the week, I was forced to. They had their gardening day. They had the day of the week when they cleaned their car. Their day for vacuuming (townhouses with thin walls are fun).

And me? I go weeks without it. I love a clean house, but I hate cleaning. When I do, it’s one room, one cabinet, one car at a time. Everything comes out and I deep clean and organize so it’s perfect. Then leave it. For weeks. The necessities (dishes, laundry, floors, etc.) get done. But the rest? That goes by the wayside.

I’m busy. I have things to do. A schedule. Lists.

Lists. My life as been consumed by them lately. I found myself on a trip, on vacation, but still, somehow surrounded by multitudes of lists. It’s disturbing and I get frustrated with myself for it. I get overwhelmed. And when I try to relax on vacation, I still worry about the things that I need to do. The things that don’t have a checkmark by them on my oh-so-precious lists.

It’s good to have goals, it’s good to have dreams and things we need to accomplish. It’s good to work. It’s good to have structure, an order to things. A routine. I admire those with structure. I do all that I can to have more of it. My life is marred by lists that pile up of things I need to do. Of goals. Of what I shouldn’t be doing, what I should and shouldn’t be eating. It’s a never-ending, vicious circle that I need to get a grip on.

When we become so addicted to our goals, our structure, our lists of tasks we must accomplish, that we forget to rest, we’re only harming ourselves.

There’s a saying, ‘stop and smell the roses.’

Well, as I’ve gotten older, I have forgotten how.

It’s the dent in my façade. Because I want the plans, I want the structure and order. I want to do good, to handle things well. I want to be organized and for my life, my goals to go exactly how I would like them to.

Except, the list looms and hovers and when I don’t accomplish the goals and tasks I get so stressed out. I sin and fall short. And then if I don’t have a check mark next to the thing that I was supposed to do that day, when things aren’t done in the time I would like them to be; I feel like I’m failing not only myself, but Jesus. It’s a vicious, unpleasant cycle and I’m not a fan.

Then, when things work out and I’m working with others, and they fail. Or they change plans, or they don’t do things right or how it aligns with how I’d hoped, and I get stressed out.When things don’t go how they’re supposed to, when my goals aren’t accomplished in the time I had hoped, I get overwhelmed.

Did God truly set out for us to feel like failures? Does He get angry when our plans go awry and don’t work out?

Or does He want us to live sweetly broken, holy surrendered to Him? Trusting in Him? Knowing that He is our hope, our secure foundation, who will never leave us or forsake us?

That yes, He has laws, He wants us to Sabbath rest. But when life gets in the way (and life is great about getting in the way), we can’t let it destroy us to the point where we can’t catch our breath, we’re so stressed.

If God wanted us to be orderly robots bound by structure, He would have kept the animal sacrifices and the rules that cast people out and called them unclean. He would have honored the pharisees and Sadducees and built a palace as elegant as Solomon’s.

He wouldn’t have stepped down from His throne to be born in a manger – a feeding trough, of all things, for the Creator of the World. He wouldn’t have worked with His hands. He wouldn’t have called the tax collectors or healed the blind, deaf, lame and lepers. He would’ve turned His nose up at the little children. He wouldn’t have taken on the cross. He wouldn’t have shocked and dismayed the religious rule-abiders and welcomed the poor, the needy, sick and lame.

But Jesus came. And He broke down our walls, our plans, our structure – this box we so laid out for Him. He was real, He sought others so that they would know Him, that we might know Him. He didn’t come to be fed grapes and massaged with gold masks. He came to take our place, walk our steps, and have a relationship with us. To save us, in our broken ways with our cracked and faulty structures. To love us and let us know how completely and utterly and madly loved we are.

Everything He did was done carefully, orchestrated in Heaven and prophesied by prophets. But the way the Messiah came to fulfill the prophesies, the way He redeemed and healed, the way He saved the world transcended human structure and worldly expectation He came near for relationship, so that our anchor would not be in our structures, our rules, in our best laid plans. That our anchor would be Him, the Hope of Glory. The one who is the true Anchor. The Way, The Truth, The Life.

There were the pharisees. They were bound by the rules, bound by the law they so adamantly followed. Disciplined in everything they did, believing they knew exactly what was required of them.

They cast out the sick, the unclean. They despised the Romans but worked with them when people didn’t measure up to either of their standards. They punished those who broke the rules, especially those who broke the Sabbath.

They were uniform, knowing exactly how, what and when was expected of them all to please their God.

They believed in order, because He was the God who wrote the law. And surely, when He arrived, He would take Israel’s throne. He would come with pomp and circumstance and all of the prestige. He would defeat the ones who were holding them captive (Rome). Maybe He’d be a mighty warrior, and surely He would even have mighty warriors working for Him.

And they would be at His right hand, surely. Because they knew His law so well. Just as they were enforcing it today, they would enforce it alongside Him.

But then, He came. Him, with His unruly followers. He prophesied and He drew crowds by the thousands. He went to the houses of tax collectors to dine! He went to the demon possessed! He touched lepers! He talked to little children!

How dare He.

Then He dared to heal on the Sabbath. His disciples broke heads of grain and ate them on the Sabbath!

How dare they!

Then He claimed to be the Messiah. The Messiah!

How could He possibly be when He didn’t even uphold His own laws and regulations?

So the Pharisees and Sadducees joined forces. They even temporarily united with Rome to do away with this structure-breaker. This unruly Prophet.

They did all that they could to catch Him. They bribed. They schemed.

All believing that they were honoring the structure in which God had set out for them.

They even joined forces with Rome, condemning Him as a criminal, pushing Him toward the Roman’s way of punishment. Because that was the torture the unruly one deserved.

Thirty pieces of silver bought His betrayal, and they watched as He was scourged, the flesh torn off of Him. They were hurried, as He tripped over the wooden weight of the tree, He carried up Golgotha. They smirked as the nails went into His hands and feet.

And then, because Sabbath was fast approaching, they were quick and astute in making sure the other criminals were dead by breaking their legs. Because they had to be dead and taken care of so everyone else could observe Sabbath.

But this man, the structure-breaker, He seemed to have already given His last breath. And when the Roman guard pierced His side with a sword, blood and water hit the ground. Not one of His bones was broken.

Sabbath came and went and they ensured the tomb was sealed. But then, on Sunday, things started happening. Another sort of news began spreading, making them fear.

The unruly one, people were saying, had risen from the dead.

Which had to be a lie.

Except…the tomb was empty.

Even the structure of a tomb had been broken when the stone was rolled away.

What they didn’t realize, or, maybe – hopefully – some of them did, was that the Messiah came His own way. Because God, the Author of Eternity, isn’t bound by human structure or reasoning.

He’s not bound by our rules. He is The Way, The Truth and The Life. He knows those who are His. He is true love. And nothing is too hard, too difficult for Him. We say we know how things are supposed to go. We can uphold ourselves to the highest of standards, with our agenda books full, the list of tasks on our phones and all of our plans. But God.

“We can make our plans, but the Lord determines our steps.” – Proverbs 16:9, NLT

We can make all of the plans we want, but when we surrender our lives to Jesus, we really need to be surrendered to Him.

We need to open our hearts, our minds to His will. We need to trust Him, for He makes all things work together for our good. We need to earnestly seek and pursue Him, because He is worthy.

Yes, He has rules and laws for a reason. Yes, the Ten Commandments should absolutely be upheld.

God created those to protect us, guide us and give us direction.

But He came here, He came near, in the most unexpected way so we might know Him. So that we could know relationship, and how precious He is. So that we can know that, no matter how outcast, unclean or broken we are we are not too outcast, unclean or broken for the Messiah.

We should have structure, we should set goals, but we need to remember Him first. We need to walk in love with Him, and be open to His still, small voice. We need to follow His Holy Spirit, which could be out gut, our instinct, when His voice says “do this or don’t do that.”

We need to remember to rest in Christ. To know Him. To seek Him first.

To break our own rules of structure and routine so we can be messy and surrendered to His perfect plan.

God didn’t create us to be robots, He created us to come to Him like little children. To trust and love their Daddy. To know that He is always guiding. To know that He is alive, the King of Kings, and He alone is worthy. There is nothing to hard for Him.

Structure is good, but when it pulls us away from enjoying God’s beauty, from enjoying His Sabbath, we need to surrender the walls of our structure to Him.

Jesus made a beautiful world with beautiful sunsets and beautiful roses for us to enjoy and see Him in it all.

“For God so loved the world, that He gave His only Son, that whoever believe sin Him should not perish but have eternal life. For God did not send His Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through Him.” – John 3:16-17, NIV

Perhaps there was a hint of pride after his years of study, of holding onto what he knew was right.

The Promised One was not supposed to come this way.

The Messiah he had been praying for. The one he spent his life teaching about.

But there He was in front of him, humble. Answering his questions. He had kind eyes, a gentle yet deep voice. Yet He spoke with such authority and wisdom that it astounded him.

The things He said about their expectations, they didn’t make sense. But then… they did. It was if His very words had the power to open eyes and hearts. It became like a fire burning in his soul, hearing His words.

His life, his teachings had been a prisoner to structure, dedicated entirely to the law. He even assumed that that was Hashem’s will.

But the Man in front of Him – the Messiah – He wasn’t in a hurry to check off His to do list, to have a palace filled with gold and servants kissing His feet, attuned to every need. Instead, He was saying He came to serve. To save. To heal.

He wasn’t in a hurry to punish for lack of structure; He was in a hurry to break the bounds of structure, to show the world who He truly was.

John and the other disciples faded to the background, and Nicodemus let every word from his Savior soak in:

“For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life.” – John 3:16, NKJV

People Pleasing

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‘It is better to take refuge in the Lord than to trust in people.” – Proverbs 118:8, NLT

It was the underhanded bribe. The smile with manipulation underneath. The feeling of finally, finally, they were pleasing to someone. Someone approved.

Or maybe they were running scared. He was running scared. He knew the Teacher, the one who had become his friend, his brother. His Savior. And though what was happening to Him was so incredibly wrong, he didn’t want his life to be destroyed too. He didn’t want to be persecuted because of their wrong beliefs. So he aimed for pleasing the people surrounding him. Pleasing the crowds nagging him. The mocking voices, so they would no longer mock.

So he lied, he lied and he lied again. Then the rooster crowed.

And though He was persecuted and died a death he didn’t deserve, it wasn’t the end. And the people pleaser would turn into a rock who would be a martyr in the end. Because He was worthy.

“Fearing people is a dangerous trap, but trusting the Lord means safety.” – Proverbs 29:25, NLT

I don’t say no very well. If it’s something that scares me, maybe. If it’s something that I know goes against the Bible, it’s very easy to say no.

But when a loved one, a friend, even colleague or acquaintance has an idea, a need, takes control of the plans or tries to make way with their own agenda – that’s when my mouth can’t form the words. Or just word. It’s a simple, “no” -or- “I cannot.” And sometimes, I even find myself offering time, or something, that is not convenient to give.

Part of it is because I hate being rejected, so I feel like I need to please others, so they don’t. I want my image to look good. I want people to like me. I can be passive aggressive, to a fault. I come off as naïve, with a soft-spoken voice and a quiet demeanor. I’m meek. But as my pastor said, meekness isn’t weakness, it’s strength under control. Maybe.

Maybe if I used my quietness and saved my nos, people would believe it when I said no. Maybe people wouldn’t tread so much.

It’s just that, the plans are made without my input. An agenda set that wasn’t in my timing. I said I wanted to go somewhere, but that place was in the future, in my own time. Not…theirs. I love them, but God’s timing, not someone else’s. You should never go somewhere or do something because someone else wants you to if you do not feel peace. Yet don’t lead them on. Say I can’t, or no. That’s the heart of my issue.

You can’t buy your friends, because they end up owning you. You can’t submit to every wish and plan that someone else has. Because in the end, it’s their relationship and their power over you. You were never in it. You were just the happy, pleasant companion that they can bounce all their ideas off of, or put their rants and stress on. It falls on you. If they’re friends with you for their own motives, and not because they genuinely like you, you will always feel stressed out and overwhelmed because it is a toxic relationship. If they bring you stress instead of joy, if they bring you demands instead of actual friendship – they are not your friend.

Satan comes to steal, kill, and destroy. He will use every opportunity he can, even if it’s through people you know, to attack you. When you’re in God’s will, when you’re doing things that shake the kingdom, we have a very real enemy who wants to wage war. Who wants to destroy. He isn’t very subtle. It can seem like a regular motion at first, but in the end, he makes himself known. It’ll be a jab here, a jab there. A random thing happening that is so very bizarre that the only thing you can do is stop and realize that that jab was from your enemy. But the enemy, by the blood of the Lamb, has been defeated. He has no hold on you, no say over your life. He can try to attack, but you have Jesus, the King of Kings, on your side. You have angels guarding you and going to battle for you. There is nothing that Satan can do to stop God’s plan for your life. Job had to face his attacks, he went through so many trials and tribulations, but God, in His mercy, and because He is who He says He is, restored. He restored more and better than Job could’ve ever hoped or imagined. Not because Job or his friends were perfect – far from it. But because God is.

The enemy will use “friendships” against us, and people against us. He came disguised as an angel of light, easy to persuade and trick. But the One who truly is the Light of the World has defeated the enemy. People might feel like they can control your life, manipulate you with their ideas. Recognize what narcissism is. It comes in the form charm, making you feel like the most clever, important person in the world. But then, somewhere in the chaos of the demands and the feeling of being insufficient, you recognize in your spirit you feel stressed after being with that person. The demands come. The stresses multiply. You have saved your nos, but now it’s time to say your no.

If they are your friend, if they are in it because they’re truly for you, then they will understand. But guard against the person who ridicules you, the one who jumps on social media to make complaints because you didn’t kowtow to their wishes. Or test them by their fruit. If they easily criticize others and gossip, and put down on others, know these red flags.

God wants us to be lights to everyone and witnesses, but He’s the Father who, seeing His child in jeopardy and spiritual turmoil, would never leave them there. He’s the Father who steps in and teaches His child to stick up for themselves, but He also defeats the enemy. Justice is His. He pulls us out of harm and sets our feet upon stone. He is the solid rock. Know when the situation feels so overwhelming and the attack so vile that you need to get out, and get out. Stay out. Don’t entertain the enemy. Leave justice in the hands of God, for Jesus is justice Himself. Leave that person, that friendship, in God’s hands. Because He will do everything to protect His children from those that mean harm. If a person is intended to be in your life, they’ll be there.

I catch myself going out of my way to say something that will please someone, while failing to realize that the very thing that would please them would inconvenience me. It would stress me out and become a burden. But I would bear it, for them.

I think I’m doing this good, this pleasing them, and it’s good. But ultimately, it goes against my gut instinct. And well, yes, Jesus realizes our motives and our purpose – He also gives us the Holy Spirit. And the Holy Spirit also speaks to us through instincts, through our emotions. He guides us along His path of life.

So when we feel like we shouldn’t go somewhere or do something, pray. If you don’t feel an absolute peace, pray some more. And if you still do not have peace, let your answer be, “I can’t” or “No.”

You do not owe anything to anyone, and your purpose in this life is to follow Christ. You don’t owe an explanation. Let your no be no and your yes be yes.

It might be frustrating as can be. It might feel like you’re letting the world and everything around you down, and that you’ll be a disappointment. But if the person you are staying “no” truly has the right motives and truly regards your friendship, they will understand.

God will ask us to do hard things, but He will never guide us into doing something that will 1) tempt us 2) give us anxiety 3) be more than we can bare. His yoke is easy, and His burden is light (Matthew 11:30)

When we feel like we’re being asked to do too much, when we feel like we’ve reached our breaking point, but still the demands keep coming – say your no. Pray, and say your no. Where Jesus is, there’s peace and there is safety. Yes, He will pick up and force you out of your comfort zone, He will guide you in His purpose for His glory. But He will never force you to do something that overwhelms you to the point of anxiety, overwhelming desperation, and fear. Fear is not of God. Being bullied and manipulated into doing something, being pressured to the point of stress, is not from Jesus. God is good, and He’s the loving Father who calls us to be bold and courageous (Joshua 1:9). But He also reminds us to take heart, for He has overcome the world (John 16:33)

Remember when the Pharisees made their demands, when people who mocked Him demanded miracles. When Satan demanded He bow.

These people, the enemy…they didn’t realize whom they were speaking to. They made their demands, but Jesus knew their hearts and their motives. He knew His purpose. Sure, it could’ve been easier their way, maybe if He had answered. But His gaze wasn’t fixed on the easy, temporary temptation of fleshly relief; His eyes were fixed on the cross and the empty tomb and eternity for all who call on Him.

The Savior, the one who is eternally good and kind and worthy, didn’t go out of His way to meet the demands of people. He knew truth because He is The Truth. He knew the depths of their hearts. I’m going to assume that Jesus didn’t have stress or feel overwhelmed by the situation because He could see them for what they were, and He was fully Himself. Fully God, fully man. Fully gracious, but fully justice. His mercy knows no bounds, and His justice is life because He is life.

He was the Lamb of God, and He only was here for the approval – for the life, death, sacrifice, and resurrection of one. God. He discernment far beyond what any of us every could. And He conquered the grave so we can have eternity. He saw the hearts of men, but never gave the enemy a foothold. The ultimate one who would bring true love to people wasn’t a sacrificial people-pleaser, He was and is strength and hope and life.

He understood, though. He understood how the crowds can be, how people can sway and manipulate identities. He knows my issues and He sees yours. He knew Peter’s before they happened. That absolute utter fear which led to denial so he would have good standing with the crowd.

Jesus knew, He foresaw, and He forgave.

Peter the people-pleaser became a martyr for his Savior. When Jesus conquered the grave, spreading that Good News became Peter’s identity. No longer needing to please the fallen people of this world, but needing to tell everyone that the Messiah is risen, and Jesus was his identity.

“Our purpose is to please God, not people.” – 1 Thessalonians 2:4, NLT

He told Him he would never deny Him, that he would never walk away. That he would stay by His side as He had with him. Yet He saw things he couldn’t, He understood his weakness more than he could comprehend. Jesus knew the depths of despair, the insecurities that had plagued Simon Peter. In three short years Jesus had took hold Peter’s life, and the lives of all who followed Him, and turned them upside down. Peter was changed. And yet this nature within him, the one of needing to please those around him, to have the approval of others, that stained his very soul.

In the harshest moments of Jesus’ life, when He bore a weight no one could ever possibly comprehend, Peter denied Him. Peter denied Him again. Because Peter was terrified for his own life, terrified of what they would do. When all that should’ve mattered, all that did matter, was what Jesus would do. What He had already done. But I couldn’t see beyond his fear. He couldn’t see beyond what they would do if he didn’t think as they wished.

The rooster crowed, just as He said it would. And Peter wept.

He wasn’t there, didn’t see the ultimate punishment and the hell they put Christ through. He wasn’t there, caught up in his shame and sin, horrified by this separation. He hid from Him, and had lied to save himself. Yet this Man who never did wrong – He truly never did wrong – He was dying. He was on the cross. And He was killed.

Surely, out of all the miracles, He could’ve spoken a word and could’ve been rescued. He fulfilled so many prophecies, so why did it have to end this way?

But what was it the prophets had said? What was it they foretold?

Saturday felt like the longest day in history. Buried in his grief, overwhelmed by his shame and lies.

Yet when Mary came running in, saying the stone had been moved. There was a glimmer of hope. He said He was Life. And the one who is Life couldn’t stay in the tomb, could He?

John outran him, but, out of breath, he let Peter enter first.

The tomb was empty. The linens which had covered Him were there, neatly folded. The tomb was empty. Surely…surely.

Then Peter saw Him, he saw His hands, His feet. He had risen! He had defeated death! Every prophecy foretold He fulfilled. Jesus was risen! He had conquered death. And with it, sin. His sin. His denial. His guilt.

He told Peter he would be His rock. How could Jesus redeem him so? Yet there He was, the perfect sacrifice for the world had somehow chosen him, this lowly fisherman – and chose him to fish for people. With all his fears of needing to please people, all his years of covering his tracks, of feeling as though he wasn’t enough. He still chose him. His forgiveness and mercy knows no bounds. And though he would fall, because he was not perfect, Jesus still made him righteous. Because it was His perfect work at the cross. There would be trials, but there would be joy. There was a priceless inheritance beyond this world, a salvation all through Him. And Peter would tell the world about Jesus.


“But Peter and the apostles answered, ‘We must obey God rather than men.’” – Acts 5:29, ESV

Sin

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“Then Jesus stood up again and said to the woman, ‘Where are your accusers? Didn’t even one of them condemn you?’

‘No Lord,’ She said.

And Jesus said, ‘Neither do I. Go and sin no more.’” – John 8:10-11, NLT

I had been there without purpose, lost in the darkness. I was there as a space, waiting for something, for some type of meaning.

Finally, that came. Words were spoken. It happened so quickly. One day went by, then two, then seven.

I was seeing these things brought to life, names being given. Lights and then a light for the darkness. Living creatures, then living man. A perfect plan taking shape, light taking over. Finally, my once formless, void-less self, was brought to form, was made a house. I was chosen, out of everything else. I was the space that was spoken to, and I abounded with thrilling creation. I was a place that would hold something so incredibly dear and near to the ones made in His Image.

There was wisdom, light. It was beautiful.

There was an enemy lurking, buried in the depths. The reason I’d been enveloped in darkness. Surely, he couldn’t win. How could anything created by the Creator go against Him? How could some slivering creature deceive those made in the Creator’s very Image? Imago Dei.

He desired a relationship. He desired true love. So, He provided free will. The choice.

I shuttered as she took the fruit, making the wrong choice.

Though I still had a purpose and housed such beauty, a darkness I had never known before entered. It felt as though it were strangling me. I had seen such life before, but now there would be death. I wondered how this story would turn out. Would there be wrath? Would I go back to what I had been before He spoke light over me? Would my story ever have redemption? I was a void, a dark shell; but He spoke purpose and life over me.

Yet sin entered in, and the darkness I thought I knew before abounded.

I waited, for thousands and thousands of years. Prophecy after prophecy of one who would redeem.

Then there was 400 years of silence and burdens unimaginable. The weight kept pressing on, the darkness of that within me grew heavier with each passing day, with each passing sin. It felt hopeless.

But then, just when it felt like the void had settled in forever and the new darkness was here to stay, a star rose in the east and with the breath of a newborn, the greatest Light had entered. 

A Light to forever shine in the darkness, to never be extinguished.

“The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness can never extinguish it.” – John 1:5, NLT

Everyone has sinned, we all fall short of God’s glorious standard. For me, it feels like I’m good at falling short every day. The gossip. The judgement. I stub my toe and a word pops out that I shouldn’t say. Someone is just a little too good looking. There are books, movies, shows and music that have themes, scenes and words that just does not simply honor God in any form. Instead, it tears Him down and makes a mockery. I lie, I cheat, I fear. I want too many things. The greed, the frustration and anger, contempt, unforgiveness, bitterness. The selfishness, the judging, the criticizing.

I sin. I fall short.

We all have.

It’s engrained in us. I feel horrible when I fall. But sometimes, I either turn around and do it again, or I keep pleading forgiveness for something that, if I was truly sincere the first time I repented, He’s already forgiven me.

Then sometimes I repent, and when tempted to go back, God helps me be strong. But what happens when I sin and fall short, when I give in again? Why do I keep going back to something that doesn’t give me life? Something that only satisfies the temporary and leaves me second guessing if I could ever deserve the eternal?

Because the thing is, I don’t deserve it.

But Jesus bore the full brunt of what I deserve, of what my sin does, on the cross. Because of Christ’s perfect work, I can have eternity with Him.

Nothing is greater than Christ’s sacrifice on the cross. No sin I commit is too big for His redemption story. I believe it’s the repetitiveness, it’s the weak side, it’s the time and time again that I fall short, that hurts the most. I’ll ask Him a million times to forgive me. And because He is truly good, He is truly just, and His sacrifice was perfect, He does. He already has. Yet knowing Him, I want to please Him and honor Him with my life. I want to go and sin no more. But we have a very real enemy that is always waiting to trip us up, waiting for us to fall. And it’s in those moments that He will use and abuse to make us think that we are no longer loved or cared for. To make us think that we’re so dirty and buried in our sin that we have no right to ask for forgiveness and come boldly before the throne of our gracious God once again. Sin separates because Satan steals.

Jesus and His perfect work ensure that though we sin and fall short, when we come before Him and repent – there is nothing that Christ won’t forgive (except the unforgivable sin which is denying the Holy Spirit): “Whoever blasphemes against the Holy Spirit will never be forgiven; they are guilty of eternal sin.” – Mark 3:29, NIV

We are saved by grace through faith in Jesus (Ephesians 2:8-9). This world is going to give us a reason to sin every day. Sometimes we wake up on the wrong side of the bed and that can affect us. Or the stresses pile up so very high, and that can make us want to give in to temptation. We have all sinned and fallen short (Romans 3:23).

But. God.

God’s grace. There is nothing that we could ever do. We can sit and beg and fall to our knees and plead for forgiveness a million times. We can even resort to making some sort of sacrifice; but what sacrifice would matter when the only Perfect Sacrifice laid down His life to conquer death and the grave?

We have all sinned. But He tells us broken, fallible creatures to, “Go and sin no more.” When we fail? I believe that’s His same command. Repent. Genuinely, remorsefully, repent. Realize what you have done isn’t in God’s best interest for you. Realize the stain. Realize the bloody cross and the punishment that you deserved, that He bore. He bore our sins and sicknesses, and He conquered death and the grave so we can have eternal life through Him.

We can never fully comprehend the entire weight of what sin does until we look at the death Jesus had to die for us. We must closely examine how He took our place. The beatings, the lashings, the crown of thorns, the nails into His wrists and feet. The bloody cross. His blood for ours. His life for ours. Death had to die so we could live. Without Him, we would be bound to the Old Testament laws and the sacrificial system. Without Him, we would be hopeless, barely getting by, guilt eating at us until the next sacrifices were made. An animal’s life for what we had done. All eloquence and grandeur, but it would never be enough. It was never enough until love came down and took our place.

“The Lord observed the extent of human wickedness on earth He saw that everything they imagined was consistently and totally evil.” – Genesis 6:5, NLT

I’ve read Genesis so many times, but this time, it jumped out at me.  With every evil intentioned theme in movies, shows and other media, this feels like what’s going on in our world today. It feels like the United States has quickly, devastatingly, become Babylon, where everything people imagine – especially things highlighted in the media – has become consistently, and totally evil.

This is also the first place in the Bible where God’s heart breaks. Because of humanity’s sin and wickedness. The floods came along with Noah’s story, where the few righteous (Noah’s family) were saved. Everyone else was swept away.

But all have sinned, all have fallen short. Nothing could ever truly fix it. No one sacrifice would cover a person’s sin throughout their lifetime, nothing could ever truly be enough. People would always have to repent, to plead. To find the right lamb.

But God so loved the world.

God, and only God, could know the one, perfect sacrifice. The only Lamb that could cover every sin throughout all of eternity. Only God, through taking our place, could bear the weight of the world, bear our punishment, and give us freedom. The full extent of our wickedness, the full extent of our sins and sicknesses and sorrows. Of death.

Only God. He gave His one and only Son, Jesus. “For God made Christ, who never sinned, to be the offering for our sin, so that we could be made right with God through Christ.” – 2 Corinthians 5:21, NLT

It was there, on the cross, full circle, where His heart broke. Before the flood, before the rainbow, His grand redemption plan was set into place. He broke there before Noah, and it broke for all humanity forever on the cross (deduced by the blood and the water. Jesus died of a broken heart.) By His grace, through faith, we are saved. It was nothing that we could ever do but everything He’s done. Because of Jesus, we have hope, we have eternity, and we can rejoice because, though we don’t deserve it, we get to have His peace and His joy. We get to rest in our Savior. We are redeemed. We are given new life. And it’s all because of Jesus!

Jesus. It’s all because of Him. It was nothing I could ever do, or you could ever do. We are so imperfect. But the perfect one bore our sins and sicknesses and conquered death so we can know eternal life.

Paul once said about His sinful nature:

“So the trouble is not with the law, for it is spiritual and good. The trouble is with me, for I am all too human, a slave to sin. I don’t really understand myself, for I want to do what is right, but I don’t do it. Instead, I do what I hate. But if I know that what I am doing is wrong, this shows that I agree that the law is good. So I am not the one doing wrong; it is the sin living in me that does it. And I know that nothing good lives in me, that is, in my sinful nature. I want to do what is right, but I can’t. I want to do what is good, but I don’t. I don’t want to do what is wrong, but I do it anyway. But if I do what I don’t want to do, I am not really the one doing wrong; it is the sin living in me that does it… I love God’s law with all my heart. But there is another power within me that is at war with my mind. This power makes me a slave to the sin that is still within me. Oh, what a miserable person I am! Who will free me from this life that is dominated by sin and death? Thank God! The answer is in Jesus Christ our Lord.” – Romans 7:14- 25, NLT

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He believed his cause was of righteousness, and he was doing the right thing. He was all in for persecution and condemning His followers. He hated them with a passion he believed was from Yahweh. He lashed out. He agreed with the killing of the young man they called Stephen. Surely Yahweh would be pleased. After all, how dare this man who came from Nazareth be called the Son of God? After all, he was condemned to die on the cross. Found guilty. He was buried in a sinner’s grave. Surely, no Messiah prophesied would come as He did. So poorly, hanging out with despised tax collectors and other sinners. Fishermen. The diseased outcasts. Manipulating people by the thousands and using bizarre methods to work His supposed miracles.

Yet… he saw Him when he shouldn’t have. He was acting in self-righteousness, following the regulations of the religious leaders instead of actually seeing what the prophets had written. What He had fulfilled. He had fulfilled everything.

He saw Him, real as ever, risen.  He was blinded yet seeing more than he had ever seen.

He had been malicious to His followers, promoting their punishment and murders. Despising His Way.

Only when he was blind did he truly see that He was The Christ.

When he saw, when he accepted, He guided him to his actual purpose.

If the Risen Messiah could choose him after all I had done, after the depths of his sin, then He must truly love everyone. He must desire every heart, every soul. The Jews first…and also, the Gentiles (Romans 1:6).

He would tell them about Him. All of them. He would tell of this redemption story set in place from the beginning of time. He would boast, from now on, only in Christ Jesus and Him crucified (Galatians 6:14).

The resurrected King had redeemed Saul, and turned him into Paul. He brought Paul out of death into life. Out of the darkness, into His light. He was so incredibly blind, held by the weight of what he had been taught to be right. Bound by the pride of religion and laws, while missing that He came for relationship. He came humbly. And Paul could finally, finally see.

“For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.” – Romans 6:23, ESV

Anger

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“Don’t sin by letting anger control you. Don’t let the sun go down while you are still angry.” – Ephesians 5:26, NLT

I’m a root that grows. I sink deeper through an outburst. Words not meant to be heard.

If they’re not careful, I will fester like an infected wound. My roots will grow down and down, wrapping around and strangling the gut, the heart. I breed bitterness. I lead to vengeance. Sometimes even murder. If they hold on to me, if they listen and aren’t slow to me, I will ultimately destroy them.

But if they’re still, if they choose a different path – they might even change the world for the better.

“Understand this, my dear brothers and sisters: You must all be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to get angry.  Human anger does not produce the righteousness God desires.” – James 1:19-20

My anger usually comes in short bursts (road rage, football team losing upset). I get hurt sometimes, I get upset when someone does something unkind, or something I think is wrong. But have I ever yelled at a person in an argument (not road rage, where I *have* indeed yelled as someone cut me off)? No. I don’t do anger well. I don’t do arguing well.I don’t see how petty arguments are necessary. I hate conflict. I get angry with myself. Upset with my procrastination, my sin, what I haven’t done – but I think that tends to be more stress.

I was overwhelmingly hurt and frustrated by people with ill intentions after my family had passed away.

I’ve dealt with a lot. After the loss of a loved one, I felt like, for years after, it was a battlefield. People came and seemed to rage a battle all because of greed. They manipulated and cheated and plotted. God protected me every time, but it was eye-opening. It was the greatest lesson in my life. Somewhere along the way… my heart got hardened. There are the people that I trust completely, the ones who have been the hands and feet of Jesus. But there are others that my guards go up.  I wait for them to stumble. I wait for them to show a side so I can turn away. To prove my distrust was wrong, that my suspicions were correct.

I became someone I didn’t like. Frustrated and saying things I shouldn’t say in traffic and with bad drivers. Judgey over people. Irritated when things don’t go my way. More suspicious over every encounter because I don’t know them, so what could they possibly want with me. A neighbor would do something that would irk me, so I would let them know in my own way; instead of being still and waiting. I would put others down to others, because how dare they.

Sometimes, there’s something in my gut that says not to trust. To be on guard. To be wary. And is it my bitterness, or is it the Holy Spirit? Is the anger of a past hurt still poisoning me, or is it just anger? Is it my foolishness, or is it Christ warning me about a certain situation?

According to Healthline, “The physical signs and symptoms of anger include: Increased blood pressure, increased heart rate, tingling sensation, muscle tension.” Not only this, but anger leads way to, “Irritability, frustration, anxiety, rage, stress, feeling overwhelmed, guilt.”

Healthline.com/Why Am I So Angry, medically reviewed by Timothy J. Legg, PhD, PsyD. By Erica Cirino, 2019

The Bible warns us about a lot of things, and bitterness and anger are a couple of things we’re warned about.

Every time in the Bible when it refers to an unyielding heart, it shows “God hardened their hearts”…against Him.

Anger is the short-tempered outbursts and frustrations, unleashing of a grudge. Bitterness is the poisonous root that grows, the silent killer that destroys (Hebrews 12:15).

It can feel easier to be angry. It’s one of the passionate emotions, it overrules the docile, humble ones. We’re good about holding grudges, speaking before we think, going with our emotions and wanting to get the weight pressing on us off our chest. So we swerve and make rude gestures, we don’t pick up the phone, we write reviews or go to attorneys for lawsuits.

As Christians, our first instinct should be to pray. Our instincts should be that of mercy and grace. Of peace. Of forgiveness, because we’ve been forgiven. We’re to be peacemakers. But everything about this world tends to make us want to flee in the opposite direction. So many people do have cruel intentions. There are those who thrive off deliberately plotting evil. I think, since COVID, drivers have gotten a bit more reckless – at least in the USA. There’s crime everywhere. We have to be on guard. God gives us the gift of discernment for a reason.

If it’s from God, if it’s His just emotion in us, then how we’re feeling will never lead to bitterness, resentment and vengefulness. How we’re feeling will lead us to Jesus. To pray.

Yes, we get frustrated with our parents, impatient with our children, and into squabbles with our spouses. But if something we do leads to one or the other running and slamming the door, leads to separation and resentment, our response should be to humble ourselves and go to Jesus. Nothing should be that important that it destroys the ones you hold most dear. Nothing should be so important that it puts your life and the lives of others in jeopardy over the way you’re driving. Nothing is that important that it destroys relationships and ruins lives.

God’s just anger gives life, and fights for it. It hates what is wrong and holds true to what is right.

We are to embrace discernment, to be on guard. And people will inevitably wrong us. Some people can be so cruel. We should always listen to our gut instinct (the Holy Spirit), and the advice of those we trust. We can forgive, but if someone does something that is truly cruel, is truly meant to bring you harm, then still forgive, between you and Jesus. Because forgiveness is best for you. Because Jesus is so much better at handling things than we could ever be.  And if this person truly means harm, do not entertain the one that is deliberately set against you. Do not give a foothold to the enemy. Forgive and move on. Jesus rebuked Satan, and we need to follow His example.

There is righteous anger. God’s Word tells us to be, “You must be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to get angry.” – James 1:19, NLT

Do not be short tempered. Be slow. Pause. Think about it. Is your anger because of your emotions in overdrive, over a fleeting thing that doesn’t carry any weight? Be slow. Think. Or is it about true injustice which can lead to Godly anger? About things like human trafficking, kidnappings, terrorist attacks? About the true injustices of this world that break our hearts for they break the heart of God. So with this righteous anger, we fall on our knees and plead to the King of Kings who says that “Vengeance is mine.” (Romans 12:19)

Anger and bitterness are not what Jesus intends for us. He wants us to love our neighbors. He wants us to offer our enemies our other cheek (Matthew 5:39). He wants us to be humble and gentle, patient and kind. He wants us to not be bitter. He wants us to know that vengeance is His.

If I’m righteously angry it’s to do with injustice, and it’s a heartbreaking anger that motivates me to want to do something to stop injustice. Righteous anger makes me want to pray and petition God, not sharpen my knife.

There is so much injustice in the world. There really are bad drivers out there. There really are bad people out there with ill motives.

We are supposed to have discernment. We are supposed to guard our hearts above all else (Proverbs 4:23). We are to pray about everything (Philippians 4:6-7)

But we are not supposed to be completely cemented, distrustful, angry, and bitter about the world around us, when we have Christ in us the Hope of Glory living on the inside of us.

This world is going to fail us, time and time again. It’s going to frustrate us. But we need to trust that our Father in Heaven will take care of us, protect us and provide for us. We need to press in and seek Him first, so the outsiders with cruel intentions won’t get to us. We need to not be blinded by our rage and judgements but seek Him first.

We need to remember the verse, “And whatever you do or say, do it as a representative of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks through Him to God the Father.” – Colossians 3:17, NLT

That verse is so humbling. “Whatever you do or say.” Represent Him. Represent Jesus. In whatever we do, we’re His lights. In whatever we say, we’re His messengers. When we gesture inappropriately to the person who cut us off, when we blow back the dirt the other neighbor pushed in our yard, when we judge someone because they don’t measure up to our standards…That is failing that command. Because Jesus wouldn’t. He had so many people against Him. He had so many people making snide remarks and looking for ways to accuse Him and have Him killed. He understands human nature. He could’ve stopped them with a word. He could’ve wiped them out with a flood. He could’ve called angels to start a battle. But He chose the rainbow after the flood, He chose to take our place, He chose the cross.

We are commanded to be “Salt and light” in the world. Yet this world makes it easy for us to distort the salt command and be salty. And distort the light command into thinking we’re showing how that person is wrong.

We’re to be like Jesus. The essence of love, peace, and kindness. Yes, He is the Truth and He brings justice. But we need to bring everything to Him. Our joys, our upsets, our anger.

Whatever we do, whatever we say – people know we’re Christians and we are failing Him when we act like the world.

It was never our petty selves. His purpose, His justice, is far greater. The enemy of our souls, Satan, has been overcome “by the blood of the Lamb and by the Word of their testimony.” -Revelations 12:11, KJV

“But now you must put them all away: anger, wrath, malice, slander, and obscene talk from your mouth.” – Colossians 3:8

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He had every opportunity to do what was right, but he refused. How could his offering not be acceptable, but his brother’s was? It ate at him, tormenting him, plaguing him. He was so angry.

Maybe he plotted, wondering the ways he could have justice for himself. Maybe it was a spur of the moment outburst. He invited his brother into the fields and attacked him, killing him. All because of anger, and maybe a whole lot of jealousy and pride as well.

Descendants from the very first humans God spoke life to, to mess up so quickly, so drastically. Cain let his anger, his sin win, and is forever known as the first murderer.

“’Why are you so angry?’ the Lord asked Cain. ‘Why do you look so dejected? You will be accepted if you do what is right. But if you refuse to do what is right, then watch out! Sin is crouching at the door, eager to control you. But you must subdue it and be its master.’” – Genesis 4:6-7, NLT

Anchored Identity – Introduction

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Anchored Identity

-Introduction-

“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through Him all things were made; without Him nothing was made that has been made. In Him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind.” – John 1:1-4, NIV

In the beginning.

In the beginning was the word.

In our beginning, in your beginning, it probably started with a cry. With a whisper of a name.

Then the whir of hospital monitors and medical tools, and the voice of a million strangers bombarded you. You were whisked off; taken from the comfort of the warm home you’d grown to love the last nine months.

Yet through the whir, maybe your little ears heard voices in the background. They were familiar. You’d come to love them as you’d developed in your home. As you were being poked and prodded and cleaned, you heard the comforting voices and clung to them, until you were finally placed to rest on the familiar heartbeat of your home.

Then the familiar voice, this heartbeat’s voice, said a name over you again. Your identity.

The one thing that would stick with you.

You weren’t prepared for the others though. The identities given through the noise. More of a blur.

More confusion.

More judgement.

More of a cruel world.

What would it be like to be brand new again? What would it be like to have a fresh start? To have a name spoken over you that would be your identity, without judgement. With love, and joy.

It couldn’t be possible, could it?

The labels the world pressed on you had become your identity, along with your name.

Lost. Confused. Unloved. Unwanted. Orphan. Homeless. Sick. Anxious. Mourner. Broken. Fearful. Unknown. Condemned. Criminal. Liar. Greedy. Sinner.

The noise. The identities.

The identities come like one wave after the next, crashing against you and pushing you down to the depths. You feel like you are drowning.

But then, something solid comes within your grasp. Your saltwater-blurred eyes open to find the barnacle encrusted steel piece stuck in the floor of the sea. You grab hold of the line attached to it and follow it with your eyes through the muck and mire. There’s a light at the end. So you hold onto your anchor, and follow it to the light.

Because the identities the world pressed on you were suffocating, but this anchor – there’s a light at the end. There are the promises of newness. Of new identities. Of promises of hope and a future and a glorious eternity if only you cling to this Anchor.

“So from now on we regard no one from a worldly point of view. Though we once regarded Christ in this way, we do so no longer. Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!” – 2 Corinthians 5:16-17, NIV