Spiritual practices and spiritual encouragement

When I was a child, I tried to turn a Chihuahua into Lassie.

I wanted a dog like Lassie, that heroic TV collie who had long orangish/brown fur, bits of black around her perky ears, and a huge white mane that fluffed softly from her chest and was always clean and brushed. Every week I watched her rescue little Timmy from danger.

I thought if I had a dog like Lassie, she could rescue me if a river swept me away, attack bad people that tried to hurt me, and run for help if I were trapped in a collapsed mine. Then she would lick my face while sweetly whining, just as Lassie licked Timmy’s face at the end of every show.

Trying to turn things into what they're not

My sister Karen, brother Tony, and I playing in the sprinklers with Moosie, the tiny blob in front of us

But I didn’t have a Lassie. I had Moose: an irritable, golden blonde Chihuahua whose girth nearly matched her height. The top of her head sported a large, bald soft spot I wasn’t supposed to touch. She scurried about on spindly legs while her toenails went clickety-clickety-clickety. When I disturbed her frequent naps, she growled and bit my fingers with needle-like teeth.

Nonetheless, I was sure Moosie could be like Lassie with a little nudging.

So one day when a group of kids big enough to go to school were hanging out on the sidewalk in front of our small stucco house, I decided to bravely walk outside with Moosie by my side. I called her. She ignored me. I picked up all eight pounds of her and carried her to the front door. “Come on, Moosie, we’re going outside,” I coaxed. I set her down and she put her wiggling, wet nose on the crack where the door opened. I turned the doorknob and pulled on the door. She jumped out the door and I followed her. But as soon as she saw the school kids, she ducked her nose onto the ground, whipped her skinny tail under so far it nearly touched her pointed chin, twisted the front half of her body around like a hairpin, and dove back into the house.

The big kids stared.

A Lassie she would never be.

Trying to turn things into something they're not

Moosie standing on the armrest of a chair staring at my grandmother’s parakeet

Although I wanted a dog to protect and befriend me, what I didn’t know is I had someone infinitely more reliable, infinitely mightier, and infinitely more concerned for me than Lassie ever could be for Timmy. Lassie, after all, was mortal, besides being fictitious. Her successes depended on a storywriter’s will to keep the dangers facing Timmy within Lassie’s ability to overcome. There was no Lassie that could protect me from the dangers of the real world in which I lived.

It wasn’t a Lassie I needed, then as a child or later as an adult. I needed, and have, the Good Shepherd. This Shepherd knows my heart and thoughts, as well as the heart and thoughts of all around me. There is no story line bigger than his abilities to overcome. Not even death.

And yet … we sometimes try to mold people and situations and things into being that which only the Good Shepherd can be for us. When we try to make creation do what only the Creator can do, we set ourselves up for disappointment and unhappiness.

  • We may try to mold our spouse into being everything we emotionally need, rather than seeking all we need from God
  • We may turn our environment into never-ending entertainment, rather than taking our nagging and tumultuous thoughts to God for examination
  • We may feign illnesses so family members will prove they’ll always care for us, rather than trusting God for our future
  • We may form our deeds into exceptional works to prove we’re good people, rather than accepting the forgiveness God offers through Christ Jesus
  • We may habitually dull pain and sorrow with alcohol or drugs, rather than seeking the lasting comfort that only God can give
  • We may chase positions, possessions, and people to gain worth, rather than pursuing the eternal glory God offers
  • We may shape our work to gain approval from people, rather than being satisfied that the only approval which counts is God’s
  • We may manipulate others into doing what we want, rather than acting in honest ways and trusting God to provide for us
  • We may try to control others, rather than committing ourselves to prayer and trusting God with others’ lives

Have you been looking to mold someone or something into that which only God can be, just as I tried to mold Moosie into Lassie? It won’t succeed. Only the Good Shepherd can guide and care for you as you need.

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.

He makes me lie down in green pastures.

He leads me beside still waters.

He restores my soul.

Psalm 23:1-3a

 

Seeing the heavenly Father’s patience with our weaknesses isn’t always easy.

Years ago a young man barely out of high school asked me how he could know God still loved him despite his repeated failings.

weaknesses

At ten months, I found walking on grass a challenge!

People had told him God is a loving and patient Father who forgives sin, and had given him many verses, but he wasn’t sure God could keep loving him when he failed so often at things with which others seemed to have little difficulty. Even the fact that he couldn’t grasp the verses the way others did was, in his mind, a failure.

I knew he’d grown up with a demanding father who showed little love and acceptance, but he believed his father’s lack of patience with him was justified (hadn’t his dad told him so?). Hearing that God is like a patient father naturally caused him to see God as having his earthly father’s limited patience.

I asked him if he’d ever watched parents teach a child to walk. He said yes, he often had dinner with his older brother and his wife, who had a young child.

I asked, “When the child fell on his diaper the first time he tried to walk, did your brother yell at him?”

“Of course not!”

“When he fell a second time, did they spank him?”

“No! How could you ask that?!?”

“When he continued to fall as he tried to walk, did they give up on him and tell him he’d never make it?”

“No, you don’t understand them at all!”

“Then did they praise his attempts, and embrace him when he fell?”

He nodded, but I could see he didn’t catch the connection.

I told him that parents know a child will tumble many times while trying to walk. They delight in his attempts, even though they’re not initially successful. They care only that he keeps trying, for they know that with their help he’ll succeed. The only reaction that would displease them is if the child after falling decided, “That’s enough. I don’t like falling. I’m going to give up trying and just be satisfied with crawling.”

God's patience with our weaknesses is like a father helping a baby take his first step

My friend Matt helping his son take first steps

I said, “God’s patience with our weaknesses is like your brother’s patience with his son’s imperfect walking. God is teaching you to walk. He’s delighted with your attempts, and doesn’t mind that you fall as you learn to walk. In fact, when you fall, picture him scooping you into his arms to assure you he’s pleased with your attempts, just like your brother does with his son.”

He grinned. “That makes sense,” he said. “That really makes sense.”

Some time later, he told me that analogy was a turning point in his spiritual walk. He finally believed God loved him. I think just as important as the analogy was that he finally had someone to model God’s love more correctly.

And he arose and came to his father. But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and felt compassion, and ran and embraced him and kissed him. ~Luke 15:20

Last spring I decided to grow lettuce because I was tired of tossing bags of limp leaves from the refrigerator when I was hoping to make a salad or sandwich wrap.

Young lettuce plants grow below amaryllis blooms

In April, young lettuce leaves peek from below amaryllis blooms

I knew I’d have to use clay pots near our house since rabbits would devour lettuce farther away, so I checked how many I could turn to that use. If I planted some with the arugula, gave up a pot of carrots, and mingled others with early blooming flowers, I’d have three pots—plenty!

So I headed to Plant Depot and bought a pony-pack each of romaine and red leaf lettuce. Back home, I planted the three pots, nestling red leaf lettuce among just sprouting amaryllises in one of them. I figured when the amaryllises finished blooming, the growing lettuce leaves would hide their fading leaves and within weeks take their place entirely.

All went well … for awhile.

Stunted lettuce heads grow among amaryllis bulbs

In May, lettuce growing among amaryllises hasn’t grown

But by mid-spring the lettuce tucked among the amaryllises was stunted and tough, while the other plants were round and tender.

That’s when it hit me. Amaryllises aren’t annuals—plants that completely die back after blooming. They’re bulbs, so even though what’s on the surface dies back, what’s under the soil multiplies. The lettuce roots had no room to grow and couldn’t produce good leaves.

Amused at my cluelessness, I thought, Isn’t this just like what happens when we try to add a new spiritual habit without making space for it?

After all, adding a spiritual habit doesn’t happen magically and usually requires us to give something up.

For example:

Several healthy lettuce heads grow in a clay pot

In May, romaine and red leaf lettuce grow happily in their own pot

  • Regularly spending time with God by reading the Bible and praying helps us know God and draw close to him (Joshua 1:8; Matthew 6:6; 2 Timothy 3:16). To make spending time with God a habit we might decide to give up one daily sitcom or fifteen minutes of Internet surfing. (After all, don’t we have time for what we really want to do?)
  • If I want to share the gospel better, I might memorize key verses (1 Peter 3:15). To accomplish this, I might spend ten minutes of every lunch break memorizing instead of relaxing with co-workers or a book.
  • If I’m a poor listener, perhaps I’ll spend a day listening to others and drawing them out, while giving up sharing my own stories and the advice that’s always at the tip of my tongue (James 1:19).
  • If I’m a worrier, I could commit to spending a day casting every care upon God with thanksgiving, while refusing to think about potential outcomes and solutions (Philippians 4:6-7).
  • If I decide to give more money to the poor or to missions, I’ll have less to spend on something else.

Nestling lettuce amongst amaryllises doesn’t work, so if you feel God tugging you to take on a spiritual habit of eternal value—make space for it.

If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. ~Luke 9:23

 

The first sunny Saturday after two weeks of rain, I donned blue gardening gloves, grabbed  weeding fork and  pronged hoe, and headed to the backyard. I found the variegated nasturtiums I’d sown around the now gone summer annuals had sprouted nicely, but so had clumps of dark red oxalis, thick sprigs of mint, and sprays of apple-green asparagus fern.

Complaining needs mattock

Mattock

It’s not that these plants aren’t attractive, but they’re invasive intruders that send underground runners that twist around other plants’ roots, sometimes killing them. They’d have to go, but to painstakingly detangle each from the nasturtiums would take more hours than I had.

I called Clay over to show him the dilemma. He grabbed his mattock (its head is like a heavy hoe on one side and an axe on the other). Five minutes of hacking and thuds sent every plant flying … including nasturtiums. Earthy and minty scents surrounded us. With fingers and hoe, I carefully sifted the soil, removing every bit of root and tuber hiding beneath the surface. Later when we were certain the flowerbed was cleared, we planted a strong-rooted blue-flowered potato bush.

Some parts of our spiritual lives are like flowerbeds that need to have everything pulled so we can plant afresh.

For instance, take complaining. One day while thinking over “Do everything without complaining or arguing” (Philippians 2:14), I realized I’d grumbled a bit the previous few days. Maybe more than a bit—in fact, enough that I knew I needed a big change.

But the problem was some things that fall under the label of complaint are legitimate: sending back an overcooked restaurant rib eye, for instance, or carrying out Jesus’ directives to talk to those who’ve wronged us. Yet complaining is one of those things that always seem right at the moment and only upon reflection appear otherwise.

I knew if I tried to stop just the “bad” complaining, in the nanosecond of deciding whether I should pull what was approaching my lips, I’d make a lot of mistakes.

So I decided to do a 24-hour fast of all complaining, good or bad. Fasting is temporarily giving up something legitimate as a discipline and offering.

I discovered some things:

  • I wasn’t dealing with just a few little sprouts here and there, but deep running roots trying to push out shoots much more often than I thought.
  • Ninety-five percent of the complaints I yanked needed yanking. Ouch.
  • It was harder than I thought and I didn’t quite succeed, so I extended the fast one extra day for more soil sifting. That gave me a cleared plot into which I could plant what was valid.
  • For weeks after the fast I was keenly aware of when I was about to be negative, allowing me to pause and think before speaking.
  • When I did have to address something negative, I sounded less cranky.

The 24-hour complaining fast was so helpful I’ve repeated it throughout the years whenever I’ve noticed grumble weeds growing.

If you’ve never tried a complaining fast before, why not give it a try? Let me know how it goes.

Do everything without complaining or arguing, so that you may become blameless and pure, children of God without fault in a crooked and depraved generation, in which you shine like stars in the universe ~Philippians 2:14-15

 

A young woman recently asked about betrayal:

Learning from betrayalAfter praying and fasting, I clearly felt God’s blessing on a dating relationship. But when we were about to get engaged a year later, he confessed the marriage would be a cover for his active gay lifestyle. How does one get past God letting us think he’s leading us toward something with special blessing, when He’s actually intending something completely different, knowing it’ll cause us pain? I feel God betrayed me. [ref]The question is edited for brevity and anonymity.[/ref]

 

I am so sorry for the pain this man’s betrayal caused. To discover someone we trusted and thought we knew has deceived us is quite a shock, and it’s natural to begin to doubt others’ honesty and intentions when struck like this.

I’m thankful you’re searching for answers. It will take time before you know fully what good God intends to work through this; indeed, you may not know all in this lifetime. In the meantime, immerse yourself in Scriptures. There you’ll see how others handled betrayal, including Jesus, Joseph, David, the patriarchs, and the apostles. You’ll also grow in understanding God and the big picture of what he is doing in this world.

Although there are numerous examples in the Bible of godly people who prayed and yet had life turn out differently than expected, I find Jeremiah the most helpful because of his candor as he worked through his feelings. During a time I dealt with a betrayal, I read Jeremiah repeatedly, finding comfort in knowing my experience was not unique, assurance that betrayal by people does not equal betrayal by God, and hope in God’s power to work great good through suffering.

Here are some of the things God worked in Jeremiah’s life through suffering and betrayal. You may discover God works some of these in your life as well.

God teaches us to discern his voice better

Jeremiah learning from betrayal

“The Prophet Jeremiah” from the Sistine Chapel, by Michelangelo (public domain)

When God first called Jeremiah to be a prophet and gave Jeremiah a message of pending destruction if Judah did not repent, Jeremiah was confused and asked God why he had been deceiving the people by telling them through other prophets that all was going to be well with Judah (Jer. 4:10). God explained the prophets Jeremiah had been listening to had spoken falsely in his name: he had not given them the words of peace and assurance they proclaimed and which merely fit what the people wanted to hear (Jer. 5:12, 31). What Jeremiah had been told were God’s words were not, and God helped him grow in discerning what was from God and what wasn’t.

Even those without the incredible prophetic giftedness of Jeremiah can grow in discerning God’s guidance better. When I was a young Christian, some of the teaching I heard about how to discern God’s will and voice turned out to be wrong, and part of the way I discovered that was through having situations turn out differently than I expected. Since God does not lie, I knew my understanding was mistaken so I sought guidance in Scripture and from God, and I grew, just as Jeremiah did and just as you will.

God teaches us wisdom

One of the ways we become wise and grow in the knowledge of good and evil is by living through the effects of both good and evil. Sometimes when we pray for wisdom, God grants that request by allowing us to go through eye-opening experiences.

As God continued his first message to Jeremiah, Jeremiah cried out in anguish because he did not think his fellow Israelites deserved punishment. God assured him if he could find one honest person in Jerusalem, he would forgive the city (Jer. 5:1). Though Jeremiah searched, he found no one.

Even so, it was years before he understood what God meant by cordial words hiding what is hidden in the heart (Jer. 9:8). Jeremiah did not understand the depths of the depravity around him until his prophetic words tested people’s hearts and he saw their ways with his own eyes (Jer. 6:27, 11:19).

God teaches us discernment about people

Despite God’s warning to Jeremiah not to trust the people around him (Jer. 9:4-6), Jeremiah found it hard not to. When he discovered a plot against his life, his anger burst out not only against his betrayers (Jer. 11:18-20), but against God (Jer. 12:1-4). God exhorted Jeremiah to continue his work, to remember his warnings about whom not to trust, and to trust him for justice (Jer. 12:5-7). Over the 40 years that Jeremiah prophesied, he grew in discerning the wicked (Jehoiakim), the weak (Zedekiah), and the godly (Josiah and Ebed-Melech). He also learned that God was with him even when people betrayed him.

I was betrayed once by a church leader. I had seen warning signs, but wrote them off, naively thinking someone lacking spiritual maturity wouldn’t be in leadership, and that because God loves truth no one would believe the falsehoods going around anyway (I initially thought them correctable mistakes and only later learned they were intentional lies). I learned discernment the hard way. But I also learned God was with me and was teaching me important lessons. God promises to work all things for your good, and you will learn and grow through this too.

God exposes wolves in sheep’s clothing

Early in Jeremiah’s ministry, people didn’t know which prophets to believe, a situation that greatly displeased God. After Jeremiah had prophesied about three decades, the prophet Hananiah came out strongly against him, making it plain that both could not be true prophets (Jer. 28). When Jeremiah pronounced God’s judgment of death on Hananiah for making people trust a lie and Hananiah did die, God exposed the false and true prophets. Godly people knew whom to trust, while the ungodly chalked Jeremiah’s words up to coincidence.

As painful as your situation is, the deception came out before a marriage would make it even more painful. God granted wisdom and exposed a sham. Hopefully this exposure will prevent the man from hurting others.

God strengthens us

When God called Jeremiah to be a prophet, Jeremiah protested that he was a child who didn’t know how to speak. God promised to make him into a bronze wall (Jer. 1:6, 18) that could withstand the attacks of the priests, kings, and people who would fight against him. Apparently, Jeremiah thought this meant he wouldn’t feel the pain of the attacks. When the persecution increased, Jeremiah cried out over his pain and asked if God had deceived him (15:18).

But God had not promised Jeremiah a pain-free ministry. Part of the reason God punishes those who act evilly is that they inflict unjust pain on others. In this instance, God rebuked Jeremiah, called him to repent of his worthless words, and reminded him of his promise to make him a bronze wall that could not be prevailed against (Jer. 15:19-20). Jeremiah had received evidence enough of God’s faithfulness and promises to deserve the rebuke, and he repented.

God did indeed make him into a bronze wall, but not by making him insensitive to pain; rather, he taught him to trust in God’s faithfulness and to endure despite hardship.

God comforts so we can comfort others

Jeremiah suffered insults, mocking, death threats, imprisonments, and beatings. Sorrow at times overwhelmed him (Jer. 5:18). But God cared deeply about Jeremiah’s pain, and he cares about your pain too.

Jeremiah grew spiritually as he saw God’s faithfulness amidst human unfaithfulness, and he came to trust God fully. When his prophecies about the fall of Jerusalem came to pass, he responded not with smugness, but with compassion. He knew by then that the pain of exile was the only way the wayward Hebrews could have hope and a future (Jer. 29:11). He tenderly ministered to the distressed people around him through Lamentations, passing the comfort God gave him on to others (2Co. 1:4).

Through the pain and sorrow, here’s what Jeremiah had learned:

Though he brings grief, he will show compassion, so great is his unfailing love. For he does not willingly bring affliction or grief to the children of men. Lamentations 3:32-33

Draw close to the God of all comfort. I’m praying for you.

Oil painting of grapesJesus taught us he is a vine and we are his branches.[ref]John 15:1-8.[/ref] As long as we remain in him, we will bear fruit, for we have a heavenly Father as vinedresser, pruning and caring for us. It may take time for a branch to bear fruit, but our Father knows what he’s about, and as long as we remain in Jesus, we will bear fruit, fruit that will show we are Jesus’ disciples: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.[ref]Galatians 5:22.[/ref] We remain in Jesus by obeying him.[ref]John 15:10.[/ref] Jesus explains why he tells us all this: that his joy may be in us and that our joy may be full, complete, missing nothing.[ref]John 15:11.[/ref]

There we have it. Jesus means for us to have joy, and we will, if we stick to him. As his life flows through us, buds one day appear, and then the blossoms of desire. The beauty of the flowers delights, but doesn’t last. This should not discourage us, however, for falling petals are a part of the fruiting process. If the branch stays attached, underneath where the flowers once were, the fruit begin to swell and grow until one day they abundantly fill the branches.

Excerpt from Philippians: Steps to Joy & Peace (forthcoming).

Part five of a five-part message accompanying chapter 2 of The Story

What happens when we know what’s right to do, but doing it is a struggle? I resonate with Jacob’s seven courageous steps as he returned home despite his brother’s vow to kill him. In earlier posts, I mentioned that Jacob in faith immediately started on his way. When circumstances worsened, he prayed and repeated God’s promise to him. He arranged to repay the debt he owed his brother. Then he risked losing everything dear to him by sending his family and all his possessions across the river where Esau advanced. We come now to Jacob’s final two courageous steps.

Wrestle in Prayer

Ruben's painting of Jacob and Esau reconciling
Peter Paul Rubens, “The Reconciliation of Jacob and Esau,” 1624

Several years ago I wrestled in prayer late into the night seeking wisdom. Finally, at 2:00 a.m. the answers came clearly, I understood the situation in a new way, and realized what needed to be done, and was at peace.

The next morning I turned to a Psalm, and there found a verse declaring God’s attitude towards the type of situation I faced. Marveling at God’s continued guidance, I scribbled notes in my Bible’s yellowing pages and pondered over how often it seems that effective wrestling prayer happens at night. Paul talked about “wrestling in prayer … that you may stand firm in all the will of God, mature and fully assured” (Colossians 4:12). Wrestling prayer is transformational and especially suited for finding God’s will and standing firm in it.

From there I turned to Genesis and read that just as I’d wrestled through the night as I prepared to meet my situation, so Jacob wrestled through the night as he prepared to meet Esau.

After Jacob sent his loved ones and treasures across the cold river in the darkness of night, he remained behind. By the river’s banks in an outward struggle that mirrored the conflict within him, he wrestled with a man through the night (Genesis 32:24). It turned out this was no ordinary man: the Divine had appeared in a physical form that allowed Jacob to interact.

Jacob wrestled until daybreak, when the man touched Jacob’s hip, wrenching it and making obvious the man was no human and could have disabled Jacob at any time. Now Jacob lost the physical strength on which he depended, and would be unable to fight if his brother attacked.

The man commanded Jacob to let go of him, but Jacob refused, entreating the man to bless him first. The man then said, “Your name will no longer be Jacob, but Israel, because you have struggled with God and with men and have overcome (Genesis 32:28).

Wrestling through the night transformed him from Jacob—“he who supplants”—to Israel—“God struggles.”

Just as Jacob wrestled until he was transformed, so we wrestle in prayer until we’re transformed and God blesses us with the understanding and peace we need.

The man disappeared and Jacob had just one step left.

Just Obey

As the sun arose, Jacob crossed over the river and limped ahead of his family to meet his brother. He bowed seven times before Esau.

Limping, weak, and tired, he courageously faced that day’s challenge.

In so doing, he showed his changed character. He advanced first before his family, not holding back in case he needed to escape. He bowed to Esau and called him lord, thus respecting him as older instead of trying to supplant him. He humbly acknowledged all he had came from God instead of greedily grasping for greater. He made restitution, and when Esau refused it, he insisted on repaying his wrongs.

God gave Jacob the covenant blessing. It was a gift, not a treasure taken by treachery. His character was transformed. And God delivered him as promised, for unbeknownst to Jacob God had already changed Esau’s heart: “But Esau ran to meet Jacob and embraced him; he threw his arms around his neck and kissed him. And he wept” (Genesis 33:4).

By humbly and courageously obeying God, Jacob had allowed God to change him.

***

Do you have before you a task which takes courage? Here are the seven ways Jacob courageously obeyed:

Start on the way
Be still and pray
Promises say
Try debt to pay
Risk come what may
Wrestling pray
Then just obey

Related posts

Courage: Jacob’s Example Part 1

Courage: Jacob’s Example Part 2

Courage: Jacob’s Example Part 3

Courage: Jacob’s Example Part 4

Part four of a five-part message accompanying chapter 2 of The Story

How do we courageously obey God when obedience is risky? I find help in Jacob’s seven courageous steps as he returned home despite his brother’s vow to kill him. In earlier posts, I mentioned that Jacob in faith immediately started on his way when God told him to go home; that when circumstances worsened, he prayed and repeated God’s promise to him; and that he arranged to repay the debt he owed his brother. We come now to Jacob’s fifth step of courage: risking all to obey the God he trusted.

Risk Come What May

Ruben's painting of Jacob and Esau reconcilingPeter Paul Rubens, “The Reconciliation of Jacob and Esau,” 1624

At eighteen, I worked for a secretarial agency during a bad recession. Business was scant. One day the owner excitedly told me she had an idea on how to increase income by restructuring rates, and she asked me to call competitors, say I had a large job, and ask for quotes. I thought, “She’s a Christian and an adult, and she thinks it’s okay. Besides, who could it hurt?” I complied, but was dismayed when a competitor excitedly asked for details. I realized I’d raised the hopes of someone desperate for work. Convicted because I knew the Bible forbade lying, I committed to never do this again.

Years later, that commitment was tested. I’d been at a new job only a couple months when a successful and driven sales VP asked me to make a similar call. I prayed for alternatives, and then offered to see if my assistant would take the assignment directly from him and, if not, to call the competitor and ask for pricing directly, explaining that as a Christian I wasn’t comfortable lying. His pricey pen froze midair as his deep-set eyes glared under thick gray eyebrows.

My assistant declined, so the next morning I prayed for God’s help, called the competitor, and requested pricing. When he asked from what company I was calling, I told him honestly. Sounding surprised, he gave me the numbers and said they were public knowledge anyway. I passed them on to my still angry boss. He didn’t fire me, but he did pile on unpleasant work for a couple weeks, apparently testing whether I would refuse anything else. It took time, but we eventually had a good working relationship.

A year later he told me what happened. He had gone home that night furious and told his wife he was firing me the next day. She asked him why he would fire someone he’d just learned he could trust even at the risk of losing her job. He grudgingly delayed firing me, and finally decided having an honest employee was valuable.

We all face times when obeying God brings risk. That’s what Jacob faced as he stood at the bank of a cold river in the middle of the night. On the other side was the home to which God commanded him to go. But also on the other side was danger, for his brother Esau was advancing with 400 men.

Working in darkness, Jacob trusted in God’s promise and sent his entire family and all his possessions across the water that separated him from Esau.

It’s one thing to pray as he had earlier, “God, all that I have is undeserved.” It’s another to actually obey knowing we may lose what’s dear to us. That takes courage.

The willingness to suffer the repercussions of doing right, to accept loss as a possible part of God’s plan, and to embrace an uncertain future as being part of the trustworthy plans of a just and good God requires recognizing that we are servants of the most high God. It’s where we do what’s right despite the potential cost. It’s where the mother releases her college-bound child, the husband his financial security, and the grief-ridden their beloved into the hands of God. It’s where we let go and trust.

We leave our story now with Jacob still on the safer side of the river, knowing God wants him to cross over and face his brother. The next post brings us Jacob’s final two courageous steps.

Related Posts

Courage: Jacob’s Example Part 1

Courage: Jacob’s Example Part 2

Courage: Jacob’s Example Part 3

Courage: Jacob’s Example Part 5

 

Part three of a five-part message accompanying chapter 2 of The Story

Years ago I decided that any time I said something negative about someone to a person who didn’t need to know, I would go to the person I’d talked to and say, “When I told you about so-and-so, I was gossiping and that was wrong. I apologize, and I ask that you not let the story go further.” I dreaded doing this, but I knew it was the least I could do to repay my debt to the person I’d wronged.

Ruben's painting of Jacob and Esau reconciling

Peter Paul Rubens, "The Reconciliation of Jacob and Esau," 1624

It’s often hard to admit our wrongs. We may fear losing face or suffering retaliation. Some people avoid those they’ve wronged at all costs. Yet Jesus said we should make things right with those who have something against us even before we bring God gifts (Matthew 5:23–24). This was Jacob’s predicament as he paused before the river separating him from Esau.

In my last two posts we saw that God told Jacob to go home, a place he’d fled twenty years before because his brother Esau vowed to kill him. Jacob courageously started on his way, but panicked when he heard Esau was coming with four hundred men. He stopped franticly planning long enough to pray and repeat God’s promise to him.

Apparently during Jacob’s prayer time, the Holy Spirit encouraged him to make amends. After all, the split between Esau and him was his fault: he had deceitfully defrauded his brother.

Isn’t that a common result of prayer? The Holy Spirit reminds us of the issues we haven’t really dealt with appropriately and tugs our conscience, reminding us we actually have to make things right. Jacob’s return home required another courageous step.

Repay Debts

Jacob stayed up that night and selected a gift for his brother Esau (Genesis 32:13). Officially, he didn’t owe Esau anything: his father’s oral blessing was legally binding even though Jacob had tricked his dad into thinking he was Esau. But spiritually, he needed to make things right. From all that Jacob had, he separated out that which would make restitution to his brother. In so doing, he let go of the greed that had driven him to defraud Esau.

Coming clean when we’ve wronged someone takes courage. Our pride likes to keep us from admitting our wrongs, and tempts us to justify ourselves by looking at the other person’s wrongs (real or not). But repaying debts we have the means to repay and apologizing for wrongdoing is essential for spiritual growth and healthy relationships.

Jacob couldn’t make up for all the pain he’d caused, but he readied what he could before meeting the challenge that comes next in this series.

Related Posts

Courage: Jacob’s Example Part 1

Courage: Jacob’s Example Part 2

Courage: Jacob’s Example Part 4

Courage: Jacob’s Example Part 5

 

 

Part two of a five-part message accompanying chapter 2 of The Story
Ruben's painting of Jacob and Esau reconciling
Peter Paul Rubens, “The Reconciliation of Jacob and Esau,” 1624

Sometimes doing what’s right brings hardship. An addict who finally seeks help must face all those things he was running from that got him hooked in the first place. Obeying Jesus’ command to talk to others about sin can strain relationships. Moving because we sense God’s call brings difficult adjustments and many losses. As happened to me, addressing a co-worker’s inappropriate actions can increase tensions in the workplace. The courageous course often passes through dark valleys.

Jacob’s was. In my last post, Jacob courageously started on his way to obey God’s command to return home, but heard Esau was coming with four hundred men.

With adrenaline flowing and heart racing, Jacob planned for the worse. He divided the people into two groups, thinking if Esau attacked one, the other could escape. Perhaps he considered fleeing back with the escapees if God didn’t come through.

But Jacob was a prophet and God’s command to go home was unmistakable. He didn’t allow panic to rule: he took another courageous step.

Be Still and Pray

Jacob stopped his frantic planning and prayed, a courageous step both because he had to pause from preparing to protect himself and because honest prayer opens us up to hearing what we might not want to hear, such as a word to move in a direction we’d rather not go.

Here’s Jacob’s faith-fostering prayer:

First, he recalled his relationship with God: He called God the God of his grandfather, Abraham, and his father, Isaac. He cried out, “O Lord, who said to me, ‘Go back to your country and your relatives, and I will make you prosper’” (Genesis 32:9).

Second, he remembered that God’s blessings are undeserved: “I am unworthy of all the kindness and faithfulness you have shown your servant. I had only my staff when I crossed this Jordan, but now I have become two groups” (32:10). When we fear losing something, remembering that what we have is undeserved keeps us from concluding God owes us.

Third, he honestly stated his fear: “Save me, I pray, from the hand of my brother Esau, for I am afraid he will come and attack me, and also the mothers with their children” (32:11). Sometimes we think fear is of itself sinful, and that keeps us from admitting our fears to God and honestly asking for what we need. But Jacob didn’t do that: He told God exactly what he was afraid might happen.

Prayers like this calm fear. Do we fear financial ruin and loss of status? Do we worry about others’ opinions? Do we dread the loss of a beloved who brings us joy, companionship, and strength? Are we anxious over our child’s uncertain future? We can pray like Jacob.

Jacob’s prayer had a fourth element, but it’s so important that it stands alone as an important step of courage.

Promises Say

Jacob repeated God’s promise to him: “But you have said, ‘I will surely make you prosper and will make your descendants like the sand of the sea, which cannot be counted’” (Genesis 32:12). Can’t you just hear peace calming his heart in the words, “But you have said,” as Jacob courageously put his trust in God’s promise? “But you have said” turns our focus from fear to faith.

Few things build faith and calm fear more than repeating God’s promises. When we need courage, we can write out God’s promises on cards and place them where we’ll see them often. We can memorize his promises and repeat them over and over until they’re a part of us. We can pray, “But you have said.” There’s nothing like God’s promises to bring peace in the presence of fear.

Jacob still hadn’t completed God’s task, though. We’ll continue this story in the next post.

Related Posts

Courage: Jacob’s Example Part 1

Courage: Jacob’s Example Part 3

Courage: Jacob’s Example Part 4

Courage: Jacob’s Example Part 5

 

 

Part one of a five-part message accompanying chapter 2 of The Story
Ruben's painting of Jacob and Esau reconciling

Peter Paul Rubens, "The Reconciliation of Jacob and Esau," 1624

When I was about 21 and working at a megachurch, a co-worker more than twice my age to whom I didn’t report moved two brown filing cabinets into my cubicle and dropped on my desk a foot-high stack of invoices to be filed and handwritten letters on yellow paper to be typed. A manager laughed when I told him and said to tell the co-worker his work wasn’t my job. As I tried, this much taller man with tight, grizzled curls and bristly beard lifted his chin high, stared down at me from watery blue eyes that drooped slightly at the outer corners, frowned, and said that I had to do whatever he said because I was a woman and he was a man.

As I tried to get myself out of this increasingly tense situation, my mouth felt full of cotton, my hand trembled, and I stuttered for the first time in my memory.

Later that afternoon he repeated his comments to the church’s chief administrator and was fired. But one thing I learned from that bizarre experience is that sometimes nervousness, tension, and fear bring unexpected physical responses that we can’t control.

I used to think just feeling fear was sinful: it’s not. God gave us physical responses so we could perceive and escape danger quickly. Many “Do not fear” verses are akin to a loving mother telling her child on the first day of school, “Don’t be afraid—you’ll be okay.” Others, like Jesus’ admonition not to fear those who can kill the body but not the soul (Luke 12:4), exhort us to courageously obey despite fear of consequences.

Courage isn’t the absence of fear, but the willingness to do what’s right despite fear.

Revelation 21:8 initially struck me as odd: it says that the coward’s final destination is hell. You see, to continually disobey out of fear of losing something is to love that thing more than God—it’s idol worship. It’s the opposite of what Jesus said his followers must do: deny themselves and be willing to lose everything in the world and even their own lives for him (Matthew 16:24–26). Following Jesus takes courage.

C. S. Lewis put it this way in The Screwtape Letters: “Courage is not simply one of the virtues but the form of every virtue at the testing point, which means at the point of highest reality.”

The Old Testament gives us an example of courageous obedience in the story of Jacob’s reunion with his twin brother, Esau. Jacob had fled Esau, who wanted to kill him. Yet God told Jacob to return home despite his fear. Jacob met the challenges he faced courageously in seven ways we can emulate.

Start on the Way

When God told Jacob to return home to his family, he’d been gone twenty years. His brother had vowed to kill him after Jacob tricked their father into giving him what belonged to Esau. Their mother had told Jacob she’d let him know when Esau’s anger subsided, but word never came. Nonetheless God told him to go home and promised to be with him. Jacob set out with his family, possessions, herds, flocks, and servants without knowing how God would protect him.

When we know what’s right to do, the first courageous step is to simply start on the way.

Starting out courageously is no guarantee all will go smoothly, however. Jacob sent Esau a message saying he was heading home. But when the messengers returned, they reported Esau was coming with four hundred men.

As with Jacob, when we courageously obey, our situation may seem to worsen. Jacob needed to continue to courageously act, as we’ll see in my next post.

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Courage: Jacob’s Example Part 2

Courage: Jacob’s Example Part 3

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Courage: Jacob’s Example Part 5

 

Jackie with her front tooth fixed

We found ten-year-old Jackie crying next to the pool, waiting for us. She’d been our foster daughter for just a short time, but she came quickly into our arms. She was still damp and the scent of chlorine clung to her. Gently pushing blond hair from her face, I said, “Let me see, Jackie.” She opened her swollen lips to display the front tooth broken off in a sharp slanted line.

My husband said, “We’ll call the dentist just as soon as we get home, Jackie. He’ll fix your tooth right away.”

After a few more minutes of making sure she was otherwise okay and assuring her that her tooth was fixable, my husband asked, “Jackie, why ever did you dive head-first into the shallow end of the pool?”

“No one told me not to,” she said.

“That’s not true, Jackie,” I said, surprised. “We told you many times not to dive into the shallow end because you could get hurt.”

She wailed, “I didn’t believe you! I thought you were trying to keep me from fun.”

How often are we like that with God, thinking his commands deny us good things? Our disbelief that God’s intentions are good can result in broken teeth like these:

  • A young mom lies rather than learning to tell the truth in love: Her family doesn’t trust her.
  • A wife refuses to forgive: Her marriage and faith crumble.
  • A teenage girl sleeps around: She’s a mother even though she still needs one herself.
  • A teenage boy dabbles in drugs: Addiction ruins his education and confidence.
  • A couple covets their friends’ lifestyles: They’re crushed by debt.
  • A husband indulges in porn: His wife is hurt and feels inadequate.

This list could go on endlessly, couldn’t it? Who hasn’t dived into the shallow end of some pool of disobedience and come out with broken teeth—or worse?

After her accident, Jackie believed our rule was meant for her good and resolved to never dive into the shallow end of a pool again (that’s true, isn’t it, Jackie?). Of course, no preteen believes every parental warning, but God does expect grown-ups who profess Christianity to believe that the Creator of the universe gives his commands out of love, to acknowledge he knows best, and to resolve to obey him.

Righteous are you, O LORD, and your laws are right. The statutes you have laid down are righteous; they are fully trustworthy. Psalms 119:137-138

Related:

Chasing Crows

Working Out Your Salvation?