behold the greatness

“Behold your God!” Behold, the Lord comes with might, and his arm rules for him; behold his reward is with him, and his recompense before him.    Isaiah 40:9b-10

Rhythms, disciplines, or practices; call them whatever you like but in the Christian life we have a whole list of things to do. They are things we should be pursuing and engaging in as regular parts of our following after Jesus. From Bible reading, to time spent praying, fasting, serving others and worshiping (just to name a few); we have a list of “to do’s” that are a part of our lives.

These practices are good things. They are right things–so long as they are kept in their proper place. So long as they are seen as ways of responding to Christ. So long as the “to do’s” don’t become our identity or the place from which we get our value. I love these things we do. I love learning how to do them better, how to go deeper with them, how to learn more of Christ in them. And I read books on them; books on how to study the Bible well, how to pray effectively, how to fast responsibly, etc.

I’m wondering though, is there a practice (at least one) that we have largely neglected? Not that we would disagree that it’s needed, but have we forgotten to preach and teach on it, to write good books about it; forgotten to encourage one another to spend intentional time in it?

I’m thinking of the practice of beholding. Beholding the greatness of God; beholding his majesty and magnificence. I’m not talking about listing the things he’s done for us, that’s the practice of gratitude (another intentional practice that we don’t give enough attention to). What I’m talking about here though is recognizing the holiness and grandeur of God. Not just being awed by what he does for us, but literally being amazed and astounded by who is.

When was the last time you spent significant energy considering the truths about God’s character that involve more than just listing what he’s done for you? 

We see merit in setting aside time to read our Bibles (even if we struggle to do so regularly) and we see the need to give time to prayer. Why would we not also give intentional time to the practice of beholding the greatness of God? The NIV uses the simple word “see” in Isaiah 40:10, “See, the Sovereign Lord comes with power…” and the ESV uses the word “behold” in the same verse. Personally, I like the word behold a little more because for me it intimates something deep and significant. An intentional perceiving of something (or in this case, Someone) impressive. But the call us for to see the Sovereign Lord is such a powerful reminder as well.

How often do we just not see him in our daily activitites? How often do we pray to ask for things from him and read to learn things about him and talk to tell some things about him and yet go through the whole day and not see him?

Behold the greatness of God. He comes and he brings everything with him that he needs. His rule is with him, his reward is with him, his recompense is with him. He does not come needing or seeking to gain. He comes delievering, determining, ruling. And all he receives ultimatley has come from him as well.

I love how Isaiah 40 proceeds afetr verse 10, because it offers the chance to bring about comparisons. It asks some critical questions of God: Who measures up to him? Who is like him? Who can give counsel to him? Comprehend him? Who has his endurance, or power, or faithfulness?

No one. No one. No one.

Behold the greatness of God, who has no equal, who is measured against none but himself. The Sovereign Lord who is Creator, Sustainer and Redeemer all in one.

How would our hearts be changed if we began to give regular time to sit and ponder the greatness of God? What if we were patient enough and willing enough to learn how to make our relationship with Christ less about ourselves and our needs and our wants and our blessings and our thoughts and more increasingly about Jesus? What if when we spent time in Bible study and in prayer we spent equal time in beholding God, in seeing him? Can you imagine the way our hearts would be moved? The depths of the love of Christ we would discover? The change we would experience?

It seems to me we would come to know him far deeper and love him far greater.

Now this is eternal life, that they know you the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom you have sent.  John 17:3

 

with us and working

Keep your life free from love of money, and be content with what you have, for he has said, “I will never leave you nor forsake you.”

So we can confidently say, “The Lord is my helper; I will not fear; what can man do to me?”

Hebrews 13:5-6

 

My writing has taken a turn for the infrequent and rare. It’s not intentional, not desired; it’s just what has happened. I guess with the blessing of four children and a wonderful wife, followed by the responsibilities of a full-time job, accompanied by the privilege of helping pastor a community of believers, rounded out by an investment in getting an education in Biblical counseling something was bound to fall by the wayside. I don’t hope for it to remain this way. I don’t intend for it to continue being a rare occurrence that I write. It simply was lost in the shuffle of busyness. I want to see if that’s something I can rectify because it’s good for my soul to process the words God has given us.

 

The ease with which writing got lost amongst the busy life I live reminded me of just how easily we lose what we cherish, even what we need. We lose what we know to be true. Consider the words at the beginning of this post; the words from the writer of Hebrews. His reminder: God is with us. God is working.

 

He first calls us to be content; to not become consumed with greed and want and the slavery of materialism. The fuel for this battle against the consuming fire of consumerism? God will never leave us.

 

God is always with us.

How many days do we run through—head down and determined—seeking to get to the goal, searching for the prize that’s caught our eye, and forget that God goes with us? Not forgetting in theory, not forgetting if someone asked if we believed God was with us, but literally forgetting to engage the presence of God. Forgetting to speak to him, to rely on him, to listen for him? How many days do we actively not remember the presence of Jesus walking through our day with us?

The writer continues by reminding us that the Lord is our helper, so why should we fear the attacks of people. Why do we put so much weight in the opinions of others? Why do we spend so much energy seeking approval from those we share life with? Or those we don’t share life with? Why do we obsess over appearance and perception and image? Because we forget that God is for us and God is working.

 

The Lord is my helper. If only I could remember that.

 

Life is inherently busy. We fill up our time with stuff and with things. Just as we tend to fill up the empty space in our homes with junk we don’t need, we tend to fill up our schedules with places to go and people to see; shows to watch and goals to accomplish. We feel over-busy and under-rested. And in the fast paced moving of day in and day out we so easily forget him.

 

We can spend a few moments in the morning, or at meals, or in the evening, or at whatever time we find that works, and in those moments we can remember God. Engage him and listen to him. But what about the rest of our days? What about the times of going and doing and being? Do we remember him? Do we speak with Him? Do we listen to his whisperings?

 

God is with us. God is working.

 

Can you imagine the impact on our lives if we lived every moment believing this? Living in response to this? Can you imagine the different trajectory your life would take? The impact on your daily decisions and attitudes of the heart if this simple piece of gospel truth permeated to the all aspects and all moments of the day?

 

We would live wholly differently. We would be wholly different if we could just be captured by the radical truth of a God literally present and actively working. It’s not a theory, and it’s not abstract.

 

God is with us. Literally. Now. And he isn’t going anywhere but wherever we go. Wherever we are. He is there before us and will be there with us. And he isn’t just there. He isn’t just sitting, just watching, just disappointed, or just keeping tabs on us. He is working. He is moving. He is being the God of the universe who gave himself to save us.

 

God is with us. God is working.

 

living stones

You are coming to Christ, who is the living cornerstone of God’s temple. He was rejected by people, but he was chosen by God for great honor. And you are living stones that God is building into his spiritual temple. What’s more, you are his holy priests. Through the mediation of Jesus Christ, you offer spiritual sacrifices that please God.

 As the Scriptures say,
“I am placing a cornerstone in Jerusalem,
chosen for great honor,
and anyone who trusts in him
will never be disgraced.”

 Yes, you who trust him recognize the honor God has given him. But for those who reject him,
“The stone that the builders rejected
has now become the cornerstone.”

And,
“He is the stone that makes people stumble,
the rock that makes them fall.”
They stumble because they do not obey God’s word, and so they meet the fate that was planned for them.

1 Peter 2:4-8

 

Jesus. The cornerstone. The one on whom we are built and by whom we are held up. The stone rejected by the “builders.”

 

What builders? Who are these builders? Builders of religion? Builders of self-promotion? Those that build in the spirit of Babel so as to make themselves famous?

 

Does it matter who they are? They are building. They are seeking to construct their own place. This is not theirs to do. They are not invited to build.

 

How often do I do this? How often am I taking charge of the building? Constructing my own place and purpose?

 

 

God is the one building us into his spiritual temple. He is the one placing us as stones, setting us on Jesus, constructing the frame work of our lives and ensuring that we rest on the only sure foundation.

 

Builders reject Jesus—the only true cornerstone—because they only pretend at building. They, who are we, only play at what we do not understand or have the skill to accomplish. We are not builders. We are being built. Built together, built into Christ.

 

But it takes great trust in the one true Builder to simply rest in the hands of him who sets us in place, pieces us together, and accomplishes his plan. We are only stones—rocks really—if left alone. We have no value or purpose out on our own. And who ever heard of a simple rock building anything of worth any way?!

 

We are not meant to build, but be built. Thankfully we are being built on the cornerstone that God has chosen for great honor.

 

love the Father well

So think clearly and exercise self-control. Look forward to the gracious salvation that will come to you when Jesus Christ is revealed to the world. So you must live as God’s obedient children. Don’t slip back into your old ways of living to satisfy your own desires. You didn’t know any better then. But now you must be holy in everything you do, just as God who chose you is holy. For the Scriptures say, “You must be holy because I am holy.”     1 Peter 1:13-16

 

It’s an uncomfortable balance, this salvation by grace and the call to be holy. We are saved because of nothing we do. We don’t earn it, we aren’t worth it, we don’t deserve it. There is nothing to work out…and yet there is everything to work out. We are called to be holy, to think clearly, to be and do all sorts of things. It’s awkward. It tempts us to focus on self and think in terms of what we do instead of who is working in us.

 

Peter helps us along the way.

 

Right in the midst of his call to be holy Peter reminds us to look forward to the salvation that Jesus Christ is bringing. The reminder, for me, is the very clear distinction regarding why we are called to be holy. The actions we are called to display are not about our salvation, they are about our love. Behaving as children of the light is not about the position of our soul—we are positionally set right with our Father when we accept Jesus as the Son of God and our Savior. Behaving as children of the light is about loving our Father well.

 

We are called to live as obedient children. Obedience is how we show love for our Father.

 

All who love me will do what I say…     John 14:23

 

We are called to stop living simply to satisfy our own desires.

 

You do not belong to yourself, for God bought you with a high price. So you must honor God with your body.    1 Corinthians 6:19-20

 

Our call to be holy is not about earning and it’s not about proving worth. It’s about loving the one who loves us. It’s about being in relationship with the holy God of heaven. He has given us his Son and asked that we give him our lives. If we are looking forward the salvation that will come to us when Jesus Christ is revealed, this call to give him all will begin to be recognized for the small sacrifice it truly is.

 

Come now children, let us live in obedience. Let us love the Father well.

 

the destroyer

And don’t grumble as some of them did, and then were destroyed by the angel of death.   1 Corinthians 10:10

 

The power of this statement should be more than mildly disturbing to us. It should shake us. It should convict us. Grumbling, complaining—these are pervasive in the lives of most of us. And here we have the statement from Paul that some who complained were destroyed. Destroyed?! Really?! Just for complaining?

 

He’s referencing the Israelites in the Old Testament and the language he’s using is strong. Destroyed by the angel of death. Some translations render it “destroyed by the destroyer.” What Paul is pointing out is the way in which the Old Testament reveals how offensive and rebellious God views complaining and grumbling. How unwilling he is to really put up with it. And how destructive it is in our lives. Numbers 14 is a good example of what Paul is referring to.

 

How long must I put up with this wicked community and its complaints about me? Yes, I have heard the complaints the Israelites are making against me. Now tell them this: ‘As surely as I live, declares the Lord, I will do to you the very things I heard you say. You will all drop dead in this wilderness! Because you complained against me, every one of you who is twenty years old or older and was included in the registration will die. You will not enter and occupy the land I swore to give you.       Numbers 14:27-30

 

Notice that the destruction in this instance isn’t instantaneous. It isn’t death on the spot. The death and destruction that results from the complaining is long-term. It is the death of hope and promises God has given. It’s the destruction of purpose and blessing. It’s God saying, “I had amazing things available to you, but you just can’t get out of your moment and beyond your preferences. So you sink into self-interest and self-worship and you fail to trust me for the now. So the promises of tomorrow are no longer available.”

 

“Because you complained against me…”

 

We tend to think it is our right to complain when things don’t go as they should. I think we see complaining and grumbling as normal. This is just what we do. But God takes issue with it. Why? Because how we face trials and frustrations, how we respond to disappointments and suffering reveal who we are. Jesus said the things that come out of our mouths reveal what’s going on in our hearts. And when we grumble we are revealing a relational problem between us and God. That’s the nice way of saying there’s a sin problem.

 

David Powilson says that when God hears someone grumbling he thinks, “death penalty.” Our intial reaction to that statement might be that it sounds a little harsh, but when we look at what god says and does in the Bible we can see he’s right. God intends that we—along with the Israelites of the wilderness—begin to recognize the seriousness of grumbling and complaining. Grumbling is sin. And sin is a capital crime.

 

Thankfully our death penalty is paid through Christ, but that doesn’t alleviate complaining of its gravity and seriousness. It is still a destroyer. It destroys intimacy with the Father. It destroys our trust of God. Complaining ruins our witness and our hope. It tears down vision and confidence in our calling. It is perhaps one of the most efficient derailers of joy and power in the life of a believer. It takes the focus off of God, it moves our gaze away from his leading, and places it firmly on ourselves. Feeding our victim mentality and some notion of “fairness” we seem obsessed with.

 

It’s my prayer today that God will give us hearts of gratitude today. That he will remove the spirit of complaint and dissatisfaction from us. That he will shut our mouths until he has removed the root of grumbling from our hearts.

 

for heaven’s sake

Lord, we confess our wickedness
and that of our ancestors, too.
We all have sinned against you.

For the sake of your reputation, Lord, do not abandon us.
Do not disgrace your own glorious throne.
Please remember us,
and do not break your covenant with us.

 

                                                            Jeremiah 14:20-21

 

I’ll admit, I’m pretty good at coming up with reasons why I think God should answer my prayers. When I go to him, I not only have requests, but I usually have reasons why I think these particular requests are good ones. Reasons why I think it makes sense that God should affect things in the ways I’m asking him to. I think we all do this—and probably far more often than we realize.

 

I’m not writing this to make a case for why we shouldn’t do this or why it’s somehow bad. Actually, I think it makes a lot of sense. The Bible tells the story of God sending Jesus so that we might have relationship with him through the sacrifice of his son. Relationship. In any healthy relationship communication isn’t just a series of you submitting a list of what you would like from me and me just deciding yes or no based on that. It’s a relationship in which conversation is dynamic and back and forth. Obviously we must understand that we aren’t in the business of convincing God something is a good idea—he knows everything and understands our own logic better than we do. But I do believe he cares about our honest thought process and wants to interact with us. So I don’t think we should stop sharing with God the whys of our requests. We’ll benefit from it even when he doesn’t do what we are asking and hoping for.

 

Today, I’m thinking more about our reasoning itself. What we think is a good reason for asking something of God. I was struck by this as I discovered just how often in the Bible we find people calling on God and requesting things of him using words like, “for your name’s sake” or “for the sake of your reputation.”

 

I’m realizing that my reasoning is usually not this selfless. I don’t usually think of the ramifications of my request on God’s name or reputation. I just don’t. When I’m asking God for something I am definitely thinking of how it affects me or how it affects others. Rarely do I think in terms of how it affects God.

 

I have prayed from time to time genuinely believing that this answer to my request might bring others to praise God more. But I just feel that this goes deeper. This is a thinking further through the implications of my request.

 

Am I convinced that my request would reveal God in a better light to those who bear witness to what he would do?

 

Am I thinking of the way others will see God more than I am thinking of how convenient this answered prayer would be for me or those I love?

 

I may still be wrong. God may still say no. Or wait. I may—and usually don’t—understand the full implications of what this answered request would do versus what it does for the image of God when it goes unanswered. But just being more intentional about thinking this way as I pray is a good challenge for me. To make a request about more than just myself and my interest and my convenience. This has to be a good thing for my relationship with God—and for my prayer life.

 

 “O Lord, hear. O Lord, forgive. O Lord, listen and act! For your own sake, do not delay, O my God, for your people and your city bear your name.”       

                                 Daniel 9:19

 

grieving well

All praise to God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. God is our merciful Father and the source of all comfort. He comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort others. When they are troubled, we will be able to give them the same comfort God has given us. For the more we suffer for Christ, the more God will shower us with his comfort through Christ. Even when we are weighed down with troubles, it is for your comfort and salvation! For when we ourselves are comforted, we will certainly comfort you. Then you can patiently endure the same things we suffer. We are confident that as you share in our sufferings, you will also share in the comfort God gives us.       2 Corinthians 1:3-7

 

 

I have delayed writing this morning for no other reason than it simply requires a great deal of emotional energy today. As I write I am grieving for two families. Families who are dear friends to my wife and I. Families who are both suffering the tragedy of loss today. Just a few short weeks ago both families were celebrating the expectancy of new life coming into their families. One family expecting their first, the other expecting their third. And in the span of three days, both have suffered loss at the hands of miscarriage.

 

There are no adequate words for this day, but if some could be said, these seem fitting: “I hate it when things like this happen. I do not like this world.” All too wise for her young years my eldest daughter proclaimed this sentiment through tears hot with anger and wet with grief far too large for her small heart.

 

This world is broken—as are all who live in it. And we suffer at the hands of tragedy and pain and loss. It’s not how it was meant to be. It’s simply how it is. Sin has wrought devastation and it breaks the heart to see people hurting with grief. They are suffering and we cannot make it right.

 

It is now that they need God’s comfort showered on them. This is the best we can offer them. Along with tears and hugs. Alongside an ear to listen and the meals brought to simplify the all too large and looming daily tasks. Above it all and through it all we call out for God’s comfort to come.

 

It is amazing how God is working even before the tragedy strikes. It shouldn’t be amazing—we know he is in control and knows all things. And yet it is. A God so magnificent and supreme invested in orchestrating the little things to bring comfort and assurance and wisdom in the midst of our tragedies.

 

Could it be considered coincidence that a sermon—planned weeks and weeks ago—could be on the topic of suffering the very day that a church body wrestles with these tragedies and seeks to understand how to love well and grieve with our beloved brothers and sisters? I suppose it could be—if we did not know the Father of mercy and source of all comfort.

 

How do we grieve well when others are hurting?

 

What does it look like to come along side without easy answers and trite explanations?

 

How do we love well for the long grief, not just the immediate sting of tragedy?

 

God is at work here. And in the midst of anger at brokenness and death we find comfort and assurance that he is able, whatever is needed. When we are sensing loss and hurting from our wounds, we have God who comforts. More than words, more than distractions to dull the pain, more than pushing it down so time can give us distance, this is what we hope in: a God who comforts the soul.

 

He will not crush the weakest reed or put out a flickering candle…

 

even sinners do that

If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you? Even ‘sinners’ love those who love them. And if you do good to those who are good to you, what credit is that to you? Even ‘sinners’ do that. And if you lend to those from whom you expect repayment, what credit is that to you? Even ‘sinners’ lend to ‘sinners,’ expecting to be repaid in full. But love your enemies, do good to them, and lend to them without expecting to get anything back. Then your reward will be great, and you will be sons of the Most High, because he is kind to the ungrateful and wicked. Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful.   Luke 6:32-36

 

Even sinners do that. Those words cut down deep.

 

How much of my behavior fits into this category? I sometimes wonder how much of the things that I do—things which leave me self-impressed—are nothing more than what a nice sinner would do in my place. Doing good to those who do good to me. Loving those who love me. Giving to those who I know will repay me.

 

Where is the risk in this kind of living? Where is the reckless God-love?

 

Loving those who have never shown love to me; doing good to those who only give me grief or annoyance—this is loving like Jesus loves. Lending our money and not expecting repayment…this may be the hardest of all for some of us. Maybe we don’t expect the actual money back, but we deserve something in return…right?

 

Do I give expecting thanks?

 

Do I lend anticipating reciprocation when I’m in need?

 

In truth, I probably just want my money back.

 

Do I give assuming they will honor me with their lips? Put in a good word with friends? Tell me how they couldn’t do it without my help?

 

Even sinners do that.

 

Where is my heart when I lend and they don’t thank me?

 

Where is my heart when I love and they show no interest?

 

Where is my heart when I do good and they criticize the quality of my efforts?

 

The Most High is kind to the wicked and the ungrateful. He is kind to us. Being his children means being kind to those same people—those people just like us.

 

We were loved with reckless abandon—the Father giving up all for us. We are called to be his children, to be those who love as he loves. He loved us while we were still sinners; loved us when we showed no interest. He did good to us when we had never done good for him. He gave—gave his only Son—and has never asked for repayment. This is how we were loved and how we are called to love in return.

 

spacious place

He reached down from on high and took hold of me;
he drew me out of deep waters.

He rescued me from my powerful enemy,
from my foes, who were too strong for me.

They confronted me in the day of my disaster,
but the Lord was my support.

He brought me out into a spacious place;
he rescued me because he delighted in me.

                                                            Psalm 18:16-19

 

He reached down and took hold of me. He drew me out. I had no merit that made me worthy. I had earned no right to this. I did not. I cannot. It is only because he is great. He rescues and shows his strength because he is great. It is to himself and for himself that he saves. And I am the recipient of a spacious place.

 

This grace I find myself in is indeed spacious. I cannot find its limits. I cannot trek its boundaries. All I need is here. All I am is found here. Here, where God is. Here where God rescues me and draws me out. Here where God takes hold of me. This is a place of grace.

 

My enemies were too strong for me, but God was stronger still. They confront me and seek to draw me from him, but God is my support. God brings me out. And God brings me in—in to this spacious place of grace.

 

 

As for God, his way is perfect;
the word of the Lord is flawless.
He is a shield
for all who take refuge in him.

For who is God besides the Lord?
And who is the Rock except our God?

It is God who arms me with strength
and makes my way perfect.

He makes my feet like the feet of a deer;
he enables me to stand on the heights.

He trains my hands for battle;
my arms can bend a bow of bronze.

You give me your shield of victory,
and your right hand sustains me;
you stoop down to make me great.

You broaden the path beneath me,
so that my ankles do not turn.

                                                            Psalm 18:30-36

 

He is my shield—shielding me from my enemies even when my enemy is myself. He is the spacious place of refuge. In him I can hide and live and be. In him I can find rescue and hope and life.

 

No one is God but God. None are so strong, so great, so perfect. It is he who trains. He who enables. He who gives.

 

Why would the God of heaven stop to me? Why bend low to my lowly place? Why make great one who is like me?

 

The Lord is perfect and flawless full of strength. And so he loves in complete perfection. He chooses and direct in utter flawlessness. He pursues and rescues and shields in mighty strength.

 

There is none like him; none but him. God alone is great!

 

May we worship the Lord today for being the one with no equal. The one perfect and complete. The one Rock and Shield who takes hold of his children and draws them out and brings them in to his spacious place of grace.

 

connecting is seeing

Early the next morning Jesus went out to an isolated place. The crowds searched everywhere for him, and when they finally found him, they begged him not to leave them. But he replied, “I must preach the Good News of the Kingdom of God in other towns, too, because that is why I was sent.” So he continued to travel around, preaching in synagogues throughout Judea.                   Luke 4:42-44

 

Jesus repeatedly finds time for quiet, time for isolation with the Father. Honestly, if Jesus can do it—with all the crowds seeking him out—what excuse could we possibly come up with for our schedules being too full? For us finding no time? I have so much on my plate, so many responsibilities and things to do, but there are no crowds screaming for my time, no demands so lofty or varied as what was asked of Jesus.

 

This was Jesus’ practice; his habit. He found time to get away, to be alone. And we know from other places where this exercise is spoken of in the gospels that Jesus did so to pray. He was communing with the Father.

 

What is so compelling to me here is what he gains from this time apart. He is gaining clarity. He is gaining the Father’s vision for making decisions. The verses preceding these in Luke 4 show a Jesus who is doing the miraculous and doing it on a grand scale. He is healing, he is restoring, he is setting people free from physical, emotional, and spiritual bondage. What could be better? Surely he should spend the rest of his days on earth continuing this until all within reach are healed. Shouldn’t he?

 

Jesus is doing a good thing. He is doing a right thing. He is beating back the affects of sin and corruption, destroying the result of our depravity by making whole those who are broken. But then he gets away, he gets himself apart from the good things he is doing to seek the Father, and he comes back clear on his next move. Clear on his calling to go and do something else; something other than the good thing he was doing.

 

Sometimes the good things we are doing aren’t the best things God is calling us to.

 

Sometimes God has a different plan for us. Not because the things we are engaged in are bad, but because God has something more for us. Something different. How could Jesus, in the face of those broken people who are begging him not to leave, turn from them and go? How could anything be more important than meeting the needs of those hurting people?

 

He could go because he had spent time connecting with the Father. Time apart from all the distractions of the good, to find the best. Standing far off in the present time it is easy for us to be glad and grateful that he went on from there. Easy to be relieved because we now have all the other teachings, all the other miracles in other places to learn from. And most importantly, we have the sacrifice of his life for our eternal life. His death for our forgiveness. But in that moment it could have been hard to see the good in his leaving; especially had we been standing in the crowd. Most certainly if we were there begging for temporary healing.

 

If ever there was a clear example of our need for time along with God, this is it. Clarity for the journey may sometimes only come when we’ve spent time with the one we are journeying towards. There are so many good things to be done, we need to seek out what the best things are. What has God designed us for, called us to, put in place for us?

 

Time alone in prayer gives a more clear vision. It can give us the Father’s eyes and heart for our own trek towards him. Jesus comes away from isolation with  the Father and he comes saying, “…that is why I was sent…” The next steps are clear, the path laid out, the vision captured. I’m not implying that Jesus didn’t know before this what he should be doing, but simply that he came away with a sense of urgency and conviction. And in truth, we don’t have the clarity Jesus started with. Most of us don’t have any real conviction about our steps. We need the Father’s vision, the Father’s heart. We need the Father.

 

It is time to set aside too busy and too distracted for some time, just a little time to sit with the Father. Time to listen, time to lean in and just be with the one who calls us and saves us and sends us. Time to see the best and not just the good.