Grace of the Commonplace

I was laying in bed late last night, thinking and praying... examining my own heart.  I was able to do some reading on our trip, having bought "Crazy Love" and "Erasing Hell" by Francis Chan in Lyndon.  I read "Crazy Love" while we were on the road, and my mom would occasionally read a chapter from "Erasing Hell" or an entry from Oswald Chambers' "My Utmost For His Highest".  For those of you who have read these books, you know that they do not contain easy things.  My heart was changed and convicted as I again realized the greatness of my God, my great inadequacy, and the cost and beauty of my calling. There is no way I could ever change myself - to somehow live up to the perfection of who Christ is. If I see myself as able to stand, I am gravely mistaken. I am swept away in the flood, on my face before a holy God, who gave His life to make me His child.  And so I am continually learning, growing in understanding, in the knowledge of my Saviour, and to this there will be no end.  But with each new insight, I pray that I will not merely hear, but that my life would be transformed.  These past few days, I've been thinking a lot about self-consciousness, insecurity, and pride.  All of those go hand in hand, and I struggle with each one.

Last night I was thinking of how I can so often separate myself from the life of Christ in me.  I realized that the things which I see as being to my account are in reality discounted.  As soon as I do something to which I associate a reward, I have begun to rely on myself and give in to pride. I had to ask myself, "Am I the judge of how effective I am as a Christian, or is God?"  Am I rewarded based on the knowledge that I somehow blessed the life of so-and-so?  If that were true, I would have already received my reward in full. 

During our holiday, Mom would often read a devotion from Oswald Chambers' "My Utmost for His Highest".  The August 21st entry really spoke to my heart on this issue.  I have copied it below.

"Blessed are the poor in spirit." Matthew 5:3

The New Testament notices things which from our standards do not seem to count. "Blessed are the poor in spirit," literally - Blessed are the paupers - an exceedingly commonplace thing! The preaching of to-day is apt to emphasize strength of will, beauty of character - the things that are easily noticed. The phrase we hear so often, Decide for Christ, is an emphasis on something Our Lord never trusted. He never asks us to decide for Him, but to yield to Him - a very different thing. At the basis of Jesus Christ's Kingdom is the unaffected loveliness of the commonplace. The thing I am blessed in is my poverty. If I know I have no strength of will, no nobility of disposition, then Jesus says - Blessed are you, because it is through this poverty that I enter His Kingdom. I cannot enter His Kingdom as a good man or woman, I can only enter it as a complete pauper.

The true character of the loveliness that tells for God is always unconscious. Conscious influence is priggish and un-Christian. If I say - I wonder if I am of any use - I instantly lose the bloom of the touch of the Lord. "He that believeth in me, out of him shall flow rivers of living water." If I examine the outflow, I lose the touch of the Lord.

Which are the people who have influenced us most? Not the ones who thought they did, but those who had not the remotest notion that they were influencing us. In the Christian life the implicit is never conscious, if it is conscious it ceases to have this unaffected loveliness which is the characteristic of the touch of Jesus. We always know when Jesus is at work because He produces in the commonplace something that is inspiring.

A quote from the previous day sums this up well, "Christ-consciousness will take the place of self-consciousness. Wherever Jesus comes He establishes rest, the rest of the perfection of activity that is never conscious of itself."  If it is God who judges and rewards, I will be eternally blessed, not by deeds consciously done in my own strength, but by things done in the unconscious life of the Spirit of God, of which God alone knows the effects and the rewards.

In the end, it comes down to pride. Isn't it such a struggle? I have heard many of you express the difficulties of the battle - but I am so encouraged knowing that we are fighting it, facing it.  And yet, you see, this too poses a problem in my mind.  If we think we can beat pride by simply mustering up the strength to fight it, we will only find ourselves entrenched more deeply.  When we feel that we have become less proud, that is when we are most proud.  As Oswald Chambers alluded to, the only true humility is "unconscious" humility.  If I begin to focus on the overflow, rather than the Fount, it becomes mine rather than His, polluted and worthless.  Jesus said in John 4:14, "Whoever drinks of the water that I will give him shall never thirst; but the water that I will give him will become in him a well of water springing up to eternal life.”  Who will seek this water but the one who recognizes their thirst?  Likewise, we must remember always that it is God who is at work in us - it is the overflow of His grace that proclaims His glory. 

As 1 Corinthians 13 shows, love is ultimately self-less.  It is love that we must walk in, for love "does not seek its own."  Galatians 5:6 says that the only thing that is of any value is "faith expressing itself through love." (NIV)

"If anyone supposes that he knows anything,

he has not yet known as he ought to know;

but if anyone loves God, he is known by Him."

(1 Cor 8:2-3) 

"For it is not he who commends himself that is approved,

but he whom the Lord commends." (2 Cor 10:18) 

"For the love of Christ controls us, having concluded this,

that one died for all, therefore all died; and He died for all, 

so that they who live might no longer live for themselves,

but for Him who died and rose again on their behalf." 

(2 Cor 5:14-15)

There is a mysterious and beautiful complexity to the surrender we are called to.  While dying, we live - not by the merit of our death, but His life.  May it be that we would never attempt to commend ourselves to the Lord, but instead be overwhelmed by the Savior's love, longing to serve Him with true devotion.  It is the Lord God who has approved us in Christ, so that we would be controlled by the love of Christ. He knows us! Incredibly, He chooses to use our lives for His purposes, but we must realize the truth that He is not dependent on us, or even on our obedience. Yet, by Him, we live, and are empowered by the Spirit to no longer live for ourselves! This is the work of God alone, and is deserving of our praise. It is my prayer that we would grow in the knowledge of this great Saviour, to the praise of His grace. "He must increase, but I must decrease."

The Scent of Lavender

A couple Saturdays ago, I found this green vase at a garage sale.  I seem to have a strong attraction to green glassware.  After scrubbing my find, it sat empty for a while.  My darling Mumsy knows how I love lavender, and I was pleasantly surprised to see a sweet little bouquet on my dresser as I went to bed one night.  I bent over to smell the fresh blossoms... nothing.  How could this be!?  These perfect flowers had just insulted my nose with their lack of scent, and there they sat, smugly smiling up at this poor, disappointed girl.

The next morning I thanked my mom for her thoughtfulness in putting the flowers in my room, and she mentioned that I should crush the blossoms a bit so that they would release their scent.  I did so, and that night I inhaled their fragrance while I had my devotions.  It set me to thinking.  God usually gives me a verse in my head, and I go from there.  This time it was Isaiah 42:3 "A bruised reed He will not break And a dimly burning wick He will not extinguish;" If God wishes me to be a fragrant aroma, I too must be crushed.  I must be broken.  The following verses describe well what we are called to be.

"Therefore be imitators of God, as beloved children; and walk in love, just as Christ also loved you and gave Himself up for us, an offering and a sacrifice to God as a fragrant aroma."  (Ephesians 5:1-2)

"For we are to God the aroma of Christ among those who are being saved and those who are perishing." (2 Corinthians 2:15)


The aroma of Christ... what does that mean?  It must mean that we "smell" like Him.  To start with, there are some major clues in the verses above.  We are to be "imitators of God", to "walk in love", to be an "offering and a sacrifice to God", and to share the knowledge of Him with this world.  None of these things, however, can be accomplished if we simply sit like perfect blossoms, untouched and untouchable, entirely content with ourselves, unable to extend grace to those who come near enough to seek the divine aroma.

No, to be these things, we must first be broken.  To be honest, my flesh rebels against that.  I like being right, being strong, being adequate.  But my spirit rejoices in brokenness, because it is life to me.  Never has the Lord turned me away when I have come to Him broken over my sin, realizing again the rawness and reality of my need for the cross.  Always, my wounded heart is bound up, my guilt is forgiven, and I am left with the overwhelming joy of worshiping my Savior with clean hands and a pure heart that were washed by His blood.

I had a couple hours last week to read through Isaiah and journal for a while after I put the little guy I was looking after to bed (who, ironically, is named Isaiah).  Such beautiful promises and gentle rebuke the Lord gave to my heart that night!  Isaiah is one of my favorite books because of how clearly the nature of God is revealed.  His attributes are like a perfect diamond - each facet reflecting and enhancing the others to display the brilliant whole.  That evening, I was given a deeper understanding into God's righteous wrath, perfect justice, and incredible mercy.  The words of scripture are perfect, showing the error of the proud and showing grace and hope to the humble.

"For thus says the high and exalted One
Who lives forever, whose name is Holy,
'I dwell on a high and holy place,
And also with the contrite and lowly of spirit
In order to revive the spirit of the lowly
And to revive the heart of the contrite.'" (Isaiah 57:15)


"Woe to those who are wise in their own eyes
And clever in their own sight!"(Isaiah 5:21)

“For My hand made all these things,
Thus all these things came into being,” declares the LORD.
“But to this one I will look,
To him who is humble and contrite of spirit, and who trembles at My word." (Isaiah 66:2)



To be raised, we must realize our lowness before a great God.  Christ himself is our greatest example.  He humbled himself to the point of His death, to achieve the glorious resurrection of many for the praise of His name.  In my own experience, it is when I feel like I'm doing just fine, when I become self-satisfied, that my relationship with Christ grows shallow.  I begin to forget that everything I am is from Him.  The reason I am writing this today, is because the Lord is reminding me of these very things.  So as I walk into my room tonight, where the crushed lavender is filling the room with the fresh fragrance of death, I will remember that life is poured out of the dying.  The seed of life has been planted in my heart, and "unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit." (John 12:24)  That is my prayer for myself and for all to whom His life has been given.

Peter's Perspective - The Passover Lamb (Sunday)

Jesus' body had been taken down and buried in the grave of a secret disciple, Joseph of Arimathea.  I spent the Sabbath with John, Mary, and several other disciples in a house just outside the city.  It was now Sunday morning, the first day of the week, and John and I sat on the doorstep of the house in the predawn light, quietly discussing the departed Messiah.

 

John looked up to the distant hills, where the shepherds were already bringing their sheep out to pasture.  "He said He was the Good Shepherd who laid His life down for His sheep."

"How could a shepherd lay his life down as if he was a sheep himself?  Jesus was slaughtered like a passover lamb!"

"He is God, Peter.  Anyone who has heard Him knows it.  Do you remember during the Feast of Dedication, when He said, 'I and the Father are one'?  He said He was giving us eternal life, and that we would never be taken from Him."

"But He has been snatched from us," I said flatly.

John simply looked into the sun and said nothing.  I could tell that he was trying to hold back the emotions of  grief from the way his jaw was working.

He finally looked at me, and said, "When He sent us out, He said, 'not even a sparrow falls to the ground apart from your Father.'"  Unshed tears glistened in his eyes and I looked away as the rest of the Jesus' words from that parting speech came to my mind, and pierced my guilty heart.

"Everyone who confesses Me before men, I will also confess him before My Father who is in heaven. But whoever denies Me before men, I will also deny him before My Father who is in heaven... he who does not take his cross and follow after Me is not worthy of Me."

As we sat there in silence, a figure were seen running down the road toward the house.  As it drew nearer, I saw that it was Mary of Magdala.  She was weeping and out of breath, but she conveyed her message between sobbing gasps.  "They have taken away the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid Him!"  John and I immediately stood and rushed to the tomb the way she had come, leaving her to catch her breath.  John reached the place of the opened tomb first, and stood looking in.  I quickly caught up and rushed inside.  I was startled to see the linen wrappings neatly folded, and the face-cloth rolled up beside them.  We did not know what to make of this, but returned to the house to tell the other disciples what we had seen.  Mary had again left to mourn at the tomb, but she was seen not long afterward, racing up the road toward the house.  I stepped out to receive her, but instead of sorrow, her face radiated with joy.  "I have seen the Lord!"

Later that evening, we were still reeling with the news of Jesus' appearance to Mary.  All of the disciples kept asking Mary questions like, "Are you sure it was Him?" and "What did He look like?".  We had locked the doors in fear that the Jewish leaders would arrest us if they heard that we were spreading tales of a resurrection.  Even we did not fully believe it.

The meal was almost finished when a man appeared in our midst.  I almost fell from my chair when I saw that it was Jesus.  We all worshiped Him, and praised God, overcome by joy and amazement.  He reproached us for our lack of belief, showing us His hands and side that were pierced.  "The scriptures have said that the Christ would suffer and rise again from the dead the third day, and that repentance for forgiveness of sins would be proclaimed in His name to all the nations, beginning from Jerusalem."  He asked for a piece of fish, and He ate in in front of us, proving that He was indeed alive.

Alive!  Truly alive!  My joy was suddenly stripped from me as I realized that I could never serve Him in the same way again.  I looked down at the table as the others exalted the living Lord.

"Peter."  It was His voice!  So commanding, and yet filled with infinite kindness.  "Peter, do you still not believe?"

He caught the attention of the gathering with a glance, and began to teach us.  "What does the Passover lamb represent?"

John answered, "It was the ransom of the first born in Egypt."

"Yes.  It is a sign of coming redemption of all who are atoned for by its blood.  I am the Lamb who takes away the sins of the world.  Peter, do you believe?"

Oh Lord, help me believe!  I was overcome by the sense of my own guilt and shame before Him, and covered my face helplessly with my hands.  "Peter," He whispered, putting His hand on my shoulder.

"Forgive me," I said brokenly.

"By these wounds, you are healed." He again held his wounded hands out to me.  "What the blood of goats and sheep could not take away, My blood has washed clean."  At these words, it was as if my heart was flooded with light.  Something had changed inside of me, and I knew that I would never be the same.  No longer was I bound to my own strength, but filled with the very power of God.  He had wiped away the former things which bound me to sin and unbelief.

"Peter, you will be my witness to proclaim repentance for the forgiveness of sins.  Just as you have been forgiven, My death is a ransom for all who will look to Me."

Peter's Perspective - The Passover Lamb (Friday)

Sometimes I just have to laugh at myself... I tend to make big plans that never quite work out as I envisioned.  There's a bit too much on my plate right now.  I had planned to write an Easter series that looks at the story from Peter's perspective, but only Thursday's post actually made it to the blog.  I've decided I'm still going to finish the story.  You don't mind, do you? ;)  Peter reminds me so much of myself, which I will elaborate on in the near future.  To be honest, I think it's far too easy to come down from the intensity and spiritual richness of Easter and forget the fact that the glory of the resurrection and the sacrifice of Christ needs to be real and vital to us every day.  With that in mind, please don't pass this over just because it's past Easter.  It is my prayer that the richness of the gospel of Christ would be portrayed through these words, and that I and all who take the time to read will continue to expand in our knowledge of and love for the gracious and glorious Savior!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

After the Passover meal was finished, and our host had been thanked, Jesus led us to the Mount of Olives once again, to the Garden of Gethsemane to pray.  As we left the house, I asked Jesus if Judas would be coming with us, but He simply replied, "He will return when the time comes for the Son of Man to be offered up." 

The sun had already passed beyond the horizon as we climbed the dirt path up to the Mount again, but the gray light still lingered to light our steps.  By the time we reached the garden of Gethsemane, the darkness was complete.  We lit a small fire for warmth and light, and sat huddled around it.  Jesus told the others to stay with the fire, but called James, John, and I to go under the olive trees to pray.  The joy and peace that Jesus had displayed as we sang the Passover Hallel was now overshadowed by a deep sorrow that we did not understand.  He looked up at us, and with pain in His voice, but gently, as if to beseech us, He said, "My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death. Stay here and keep watch with me."  He went a little beyond us and fell to the ground, sobbing, "“My Father! Abba! If it is possible, may this cup be taken from me. Yet not as I will, but as you will.”  He continued in prayer, affirming His desire to do the will of the Father, but obviously overcome with anguish as He considered the coming darkness.  Two times more, He asked that the hour may pass Him by, and then He fell to silence, still kneeling beneath the olive trees.

Our souls were stricken at His prayer. Could it be that His words long ago to us that He would go to Jerusalem and be killed by the elders and scribes were now to come true?  At the time, I had rebuked Him, saying "God forbid it, Lord! This shall never happen to You!"  His response to me was a harsh reproach.  "Get behind Me, Satan!  You are a stumbling block to Me; for you are not setting your mind on God's interests, but on man's."  This time I would not fail Him.  I would not question His words, and I would never leave Him.

Even with the weight of sorrow and strength of resolve, fatigue began to catch up to John and I, who had been on watch the night before.  When Jesus returned to us, we were beginning to drift into sleep, overcome by exhaustion and anguish.  He said to us, "Why are you sleeping? Get up and pray that you may not enter into temptation!"  We shook ourselves awake, and as I looked up with sleep-blurred eyes, I was startled to see that the drops of sweat on His forehead glistened red in the light from the fire.

He led us back to the other disciples, who had also dropped into slumber.  Rousing them, He said to us all, calmly now, "Are you still sleeping and resting?  Keep praying.  The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak."  Looking up into the darkness, He said, as much to Himself as to us, "Look!  The hour is at hand and the Son of Man is being betrayed into the hands of sinners. The one who betrays Me is at hand."  Startled, I saw that indeed, a crowd was coming near us in the garden.  Judas, who led them, greeted the Master with a kiss, but then went to stand beside the chief priest.

Stunned with the implications of this turn of events, my first reaction was hatred for the betrayer.  "Traitor!" I hissed.

Jesus, filled with quiet courage, ignored me and said to him, "Friend, do what you have come for."

Friend?

Image Credit

Rage filled me as they seized Jesus, and I drew my sword.  I would never deny Him!  I would die defending Him!  Blindly, and with a cry of desperation, I struck out at the member of the crowd closest to me, the slave of the priest.  My blade sliced through sinew and cartilage, and his severed ear fell to the ground.  The slave screamed with pain as he grasped his bleeding head. Immediately, guards rushed towards me and the garden erupted into chaos.  I was struggling in the grasp of three Roman soldiers, yelling out threats and curses, when a stunned hush fell over the gathering.  Jesus was walking towards the wounded slave, hands outstretched.  As if they were the ones bound, the pharisees and guards stood watching dumbly as Jesus took the bloody hands of the man I had wounded.  Putting His hand over the flow of blood, He healed him so that his ear was perfectly restored.  The slave looked at the ground, where his old ear lay, and felt the new, perfect skin and cartilage with awe.  Turning, Jesus looked at me. "Put your sword back in its place, for those who take up the sword will perish by the sword.  If I were to ask my Father, He would at once put more than twelve legions of angels at my disposal.  But this is now happening to fulfill the Scriptures of the prophets."

He then turned to the mob, and asked them, "Whom do you seek?"

"Jesus the Nazarene."

"I AM He."  At these words, the name of God, spoken with the very voice of God, the assailants drew back and fell to the ground.  He said to them, "I told you that I AM He, so if you seek me, let my followers go on their way.  I will drink the cup the Father has given Me."

With that, they were again overcome by hate, and bound Him, taking Him into the court of the high priest.  All of us deserted Him in fear of his accusers, but none of us were taken.  John and I followed the cohort at a distance until they reached the court of the priest.  John knew the owner of the house and entered with Jesus, but I remained outside, overcome by fear.  The coming King had been arrested as a common criminal, and my confidence was shattered.  I stood there, slumped dumbly against the door of the outer court, and the darkness within me became greater than the darkness of the night.  Little time had passed before John came out again, begging me to come in to the fire.  I was fearful of being recognized, but I followed him, attempting to warm myself while staying in the shadows as much as possible.  Despite my efforts of concealment, a young servant-girl started as she caught a glimpse of my face from across the fire, and blurted out, "This man was with Him too!"

"I don't know Him - I don't even know what you're talking about!"  It was said too quickly.  My Galilean accent was made even more pronounced with the terseness of my words.

She gave me a strange look, but left to speak to the other men in the courtyard.  Before long, one of them came over to me.  "Surely you are one of the followers of Jesus of Nazareth."

"Sir, I am not."

Another slave came over who was a relative of the man whose ear I cut off.  Standing over me with his arms folded and a scowl on his face, he asked menacingly, "Didn't I see you in the Garden with Him? Even your accent betrays you!"

At the word "betray", I cringed, but I maintained my assertion.  "I don't know the man!" 

The moment the words left my mouth, a cock crowed from just beyond the wall.  I looked up to where Jesus was being led into the courtyard by guards who were preparing to beat Him.  He turned and looked at me, eyes filled with such gentle sadness and reproach that I felt as if I had been dealt a death blow. Overcome with sorrow and shame, I fled from the courtyard and began to weep uncontrollably.  "Oh, forgive me Lord!  Forgive me!  What have I done?"

How could I even cry out to Him? I was utterly undeserving... nothing but dust.  Nay!  Worse than dust - I was the vilest offense; a stench, a worm, and not a man. 

What unfolded in those hours, I cannot now tell, but from sunrise to well into the day I numbly wandered the streets of Jerusalem as if I were in a dream.  The city of promise had become a city of death to me, and by my denial, I knew that I too had betrayed the Lord, the Son of God.  I, who had been so bold in my assertion of loyalty, was now stripped of all pride and forever separated from the Lord I loved.  At noon, the sun was strangely darkened, though there was not a cloud in the sky, and I knew that this was a sign from God.  The streets were now empty, as if the citizens dreaded some strange omen.  A man was coming towards me from a gate in the city, groping in the peculiar darkness, dressed in the robes of a temple official.  I recognized him as one of the men who had arrested my Lord.  "Where is Jesus?" I croaked through parched lips.

He spat on the ground and squinted at me in derision.  "Nailed to a cross on the Place of the Skull, where He belongs.  And who are you that you should ask?"  Overcome by a wave of nausea, I did not answer him, but brushed past to make my way to Golgotha, the place favored by the Romans to hang criminals sentenced to crucifixion.  When I arrived there, it was nearly three o'clock.  Three men hung on the cross-shaped instruments of torture, and a small gathering of men and women stood or knelt before them in grief.  John was there, kneeling with his arm around Mary, the mother of Jesus, who shook with sobs.  At first I did not recognize the man who hung in the middle, because he was so disfigured by bruises and bleeding wounds.  With a gasping sob, I realized that it was Jesus who was lifted up there to die.  How could it be?  With amazement, I saw Him push Himself up to draw in a ragged breath as He cried, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?"  He fought for a few more precious breaths with which He said His last words, "It is finished!  Father, into your hands I commit my spirit."  As His limp head fell to His chest, the earth shook, and even the Roman soldiers said that "this man was surely the Son of God."  I had crucified the Son of God.

As In a Mirror

How do we know God?

By looking at a picture of a person, do you know them? Can you have a relationship by only knowing the outside of a person? The body is not the person. The person is the spirit within, the thoughts and dreams and spiritual attributes. The true person guides the deeds and motions of the body- without the spirit, the body is dust, and without life. To know a person then, there must be a communication of the things of the heart.

God, on the other hand, is spirit. “God is spirit, and his worshipers must worship in spirit and in truth." (John 4:24) While it is true that the church is his body on earth, (1 Cor 12:27) we are imperfect human beings, while Christ, the head who is physically unseen, is perfect. He is fully alive, truly a person, unencumbered by the flesh. And yet Jesus came to wear the weakness of a human body. He became as dust to be glorified once again, bringing believers to eternal life through the glory of his resurrection!

How do we know this God? Can we see Him through His creation? Certainly, in a small way. But creation is such a small and fallen reflection of who God is. People are the only beings made “in the image of God”. But even at that, we are only created beings. By sin, the image of God in us has been all but destroyed, and by Adam's fall the whole world is subjected to sin's destructive influence. God is not his creation, any more than an artist is his painting. An artist paints a landscape, but by looking at that painting afterward would you know the artist? That is, would you have a relationship with the artist, with the artist knowing you as well as you knowing the artist? Art is certainly an expression of the soul of the artist, but it is not the artist himself. Likewise, God expresses part of who he is through nature, but appreciating the artwork doesn't translate to knowing what the artist looks like. If you already know the artist, you may find that you know them better after studying their work. You won't get far doing it the other way around because you will only be imagining what the artist is like. The essential part of the relationship, direct communication, will be lacking.

The communication that is so essential to truly knowing God is found through His Word. He has written a letter to all who will read it, and has given an interpreter, the Holy Spirit, to help us understand and live out those words. We are certainly well equipped. Not only are we freed from sin's lordship, but we have a letter filled with assurance and love, the Holy Spirit who is God living in us, and a promise of eternal life with God.

Why is it so hard to feel God's presence? Why do we find the Bible so dry and worldly entertainment so appealing? Why do we worry about our future on earth and fail to be excited about our inheritance in heaven? Why do we concern ourselves over our grades and salaries more than the salvation of the lost? May I propose that our relationship with God is lacking. We fail to listen and don't understand why he isn't speaking. What is our priority today? Is the station of our heart tuned in to his, or is the static of this world weakening the signal? Perhaps we need to become familiar with his voice once again by reading the words he has written to our hearts through the Bible.

May this be our cry! “Open my eyes that I may see wonderful things in your law. I am a stranger on earth; do not hide your commands from me. My soul is consumed with longing for your laws at all times.” (Psalm 119:18-20)

“For everything that was written in the past was written to teach us, so that through endurance and the encouragement of the scriptures we might have hope.” (Romans 15:4)

“All scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting, and training in righteousness so that the man of God may be thoroughly equipped for every good work.” (2 Tim 3:16-17)