It's Michael, and I'm honored and excited to serve as the Discipleship Minister at Houston Northwest Church! God led our family to HNW about a year ago, and I am humbled by the opportunity to minister to the church that has so immensely encouraged and loved our family.
 
I am married to Sarah for almost nine years, and God has given us three wonderful children: Winnie (4), Lucy (2), and Gideon (4 mos.). Sarah and I met as teenagers in our church's student ministry right up the road in Magnolia, and we share a beating heart for Jesus and his church. We love spending time with our kids, being active and outside, and enjoying good food and conversation with dear friends.
 
I studied at Wheaton College in Illinois and have served churches in Austin, Northwest Arkansas, and Greater Houston over the past 10 years. Outside of vocational ministry, I have also worked in retail management and software consulting. I'm passionate about helping people follow Jesus within the context of community in whatever season God has them, and this is my continued prayer as I begin serving the discipleship ministries of HNW.
 
I can't wait to meet you all in person, and if you see me on a Sunday, don't hesitate to introduce yourself. I'd love to meet you!

In Christ,
Michael

Rose Rodriguez has been promoted to Student Ministry Director! She has faithfully served our ministry over the last two years and has done an incredible job leading.

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My name is Rose Rodriguez. I have been married to my husband, Jason, for 27 years and have four amazing daughters. My family started attending HNW in January 2020. Very early in 2021, my husband and I started serving HNW Students as small-group leaders. It was in August 2021 that I started working for HNW as a Student Ministry Assistant.

At our previous church, Jason and I served as student ministry directors for over 20 years in both the local church and at a district level, which consisted of churches from Texas, Oklahoma, Arkansas, and New Mexico. Our primary role was to support the local church student ministry leaders and lead camps and retreats.

There are so many reasons why Jason and I love ministering to students and their families, and it can sometimes be difficult to put into words. What I can say is that serving students provides us with a front-row seat to watching young people grow in their relationship with Jesus. We consider it a privilege to be able to remind them along the way of God’s unconditional love for them and to encourage them as they grow into the identity that God has already declared over them. Serving students keeps us grounded, and I’m always thankful when I’m invited to join in on the conversations when students ask the tough questions or when they invite me to play a game. Even though I might get hit with a ball, it’s all good. I still recover well. LOL

In addition to serving students, I love spending time with my family, checking out all the cool spots in Houston and as a native Texan I feel obligated to rate restaurants by their sweet tea. Since both Jason and I are from San Antonio, we frequently visit our extended family there, but above all, we are honored to be a part of what God is doing at HNW as we lean into God's calling in our lives.

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The adoption, it seems, has come full circle.

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Christianity teaches that the Lord adopts us through the forgiveness of Jesus. He has chosen us and transformed us. We are no longer enemies of God, but, if we receive His grace, we are His sons and daughters. We are adopted.

Will we allow our adoption to transform us? Will we use it to allow us to love others?

I want my adoption to go full-circle over and over.
 
I want the love of Jesus to overflow onto everyone else in my path.

When you are in Christ, your adoption leaks onto others, allowing you to adopt them in love and grace and to model the gospel of grace that has been given.

At Aunt Emmy's party, John and Lori set out a Bible with pens. They asked those present to underline a verse and to sign their name next to it.

I chose Ephesians 1:5:

"He predestined us for adoption as sons through Jesus Christ, according to the purpose of his will."

Don't waste your adoption.

Steve Bezner

Photo: Steve and Joy Bezner with Emily (between me and Joy) and Lori (on the right) at the girls’ high school graduation.

Do nothing out of rivalry or conceit, but in humility consider others as more important than yourselves. -Philippians 2:3

Let’s get this out of the way now: I once cried at 4th of July fireworks.

On that particular Independence Day, I stood behind my (then young) family as fireworks were bursting in perfectly-timed coordination with “The Stars and Stripes Forever” and “1812 Overture.” I thought of my grandfathers and their service in World War II. I thought of the beauty and power of free speech. And, being a pastor, I thought of how grateful I was for religious liberty.

So, yes, I shed a tear. What can I say? I’m thankful for America.

Lately, however, I’ve been thinking more—and a little bit differently—about my rights. Specifically, I’ve been thinking about how the gospel calls me in very clear terms to surrender them. To be clear: I’m not talking about legalities here. I’m not talking about elections or the Constitution. I’m talking instead about something deeper.

If I could preach a sermon to every single American today, it would be that the freedoms and rights we remember and celebrate today become stronger when they are seen as a freedom and a right to love and help others. When I think of the freedom I have in Christ, I know that I have not only been set free from an old life, but I have been set free to live in a new way. I have been set free to live the Jesus Way in the midst of a world eagerly awaiting remaking.

What does such a freedom look like?

Humans were made to live in complete freedom, fashioned in the image of God (Genesis 1:28). Jesus is the image of the invisible God (Colossians 1:15). In other words: If you want to know what it means to live up to the image of God that has been placed within you, then live like Jesus. He is the image of the invisible God. As you live like Jesus, you’ll experience a freedom that far surpasses anything you could find in the Bill of Rights.

Rights are about self; the gospel, on the other hand, is all about self-giving love. The cross is our reminder: God gave Himself in a loving way so that He might bring healing and wholeness to each of us, to bring about the redemption and remaking of all things.

Simply put: When I focus on my rights, I think primarily of myself. When I focus on Jesus, I find myself thinking of others.

The earliest Christians were enslaved by Rome, but they talked incessantly of their freedom in Christ. They had been set free from sin and death. And, in turn, they were set free from the thing hardest for most humans to escape—thinking first and foremost of themselves. When we are able to forget ourselves, to truly practice humility, we enter a new level of freedom. No longer are we simply free in a spiritual sense, but we are able to walk freely in the world, experiencing a relational freedom of which most only dream. We are not attempting to impress others. We are not worried about appearances. We are operating from a freedom of being fully known and simultaneously fully accepted. This freedom flows as we find our identity in Christ. As such, we are able to share our possessions, to serve others, to give.

We are finally freed to love others the way we have been loved. The way we would want to be loved.

This is the greatest freedom of all—the freedom of Christ.

“It is for freedom that Christ has set us free.”—Galatians 5:1

Jesus set you free so that you could actually live free. And that freedom is so that you can be free to relate to your neighbors, to your family, to your enemies—as if you are embodying the very image of the invisible God among them. You become Jesus in their midst. You live freely.

Today reminds me that I am free to worship the One who allows me to think less of myself. I am free to worship the One who gave of himself so that all things might be new. I am free in humility to consider others more important than myself. (Philippians 2:3)

I am free to love.

I’ll celebrate that.

Hopefully without tears.

Image: Subsplash, OC Gonzalez

Just hours ago, the Supreme Court officially handed down a ruling that effectively overturns the legal precedent set by Roe v. Wade, meaning that abortion laws must be determined by individual states, barring a law passed by Congress. Christians and churches historically have opposed abortion, focusing the bulk of their legal and political energies on Roe. (I wrote about that historical and theological belief here, if you are interested.) Now that Roe is officially overturned, Christians have an even greater responsibility to minister within their communities, particularly in states where abortions will be highly restricted.

Why do we have this responsibility? Because we are pro-life. We cannot be part of the group advocating for the end of Roe without also advocating for a way for women with unwanted and crisis pregnancies to receive care, assistance, and support. Additionally, we must work to build support systems for the increasing number of babies (and, thereby, preschoolers) we will soon have.

The church must continue to work and advocate in a way that renders abortions essentially unnecessary. The church must work to ensure that every woman feels loved and that every child will have its needs met. This decision is fresh, and I am still thinking through implications, but I know this:

If we call ourselves pro-life, we must work to build an even stronger culture of life.

I hope we will resist the impulse to speak flippantly and that we will instead think of ways that we might concretely work to support those in our communities struggling with crisis pregnancies and the women wondering how they will raise children without a family or other relational support structures.

Where might Christians place their energies today?

A few thoughts and a few reminders:

Value pregnant women, no matter their story. Abortion disproportionately affects the impoverished. Abortion disproportionately affects minorities. Abortion disproportionately affects unwed women. Abortion disproportionately affects women from unstable home situations. And each of those women are created in the image of God. Churches should begin thinking immediately about a way to publicly demonstrate their openness to helping pregnant mothers looking for assistance, and they should hand those resources out, no matter the story behind the pregnancy. If a woman is pregnant, the church cannot stand in judgment, but must spring into compassionate action, working to connect that mother with the services and assistance needed. I suspect that churches will need someone within the congregation who will be willing to mentor and guide (particularly young) mothers through their pregnancy and assist them in assessing their options post-birth.

Support domestic fostering and adoption. If abortion is not an option, the number of children within the foster care system and in need of adoption will increase rapidly in the coming years. Christians should look for ways to encourage their members to foster children and to consider adopting children from within the foster system. Additionally, Christians should partner with adoption agencies, helping pregnant mothers to place their child in a loving home, if that is desired. Joy and I have long been fans of New Life Adoptions, a Christian open-adoption agency started by our church almost 40 years ago. I would recommend financially supporting New Life or similar organizations so that they are able to support the sure-to-increase number of mothers.

I obviously support international adoption and will continue to do so. At the same time, the overturning of Roe means that Christians must put specific energies towards domestic fostering and adoption.

Support local pregnancy centers. Beyond adoption and fostering organizations, pregnancy centers provide women with prenatal care, nutrition information, connection to medical experts, and can serve as a bridge to mentors, adoptions agencies, the fostering system, and churches who will assist pregnant mothers.

Support financial assistance for pregnant women in need. One of the most common reasons pregnant mothers choose abortion is the lack of financial support. Pregnancy, birth, and child raising are all very costly. Our church has long supported those in our community in financial need, and I anticipate that this ruling will push us to examine this particular aspect of our generosity even more closely. Some individuals may have the financial bandwidth to assist a pregnant woman and might choose to exercise generosity in providing for her care and the care of her child. Bottom line: we must work to insure that those who are pregnant have the financial wherewithal to have a healthy pregnancy, to receive proper care, and to raise the child in a supportive environment.

Advocate for legislation. As generous as some people, churches, and organizations might be, the church will now need to ask her elected officials to propose, craft, and pass legislation that will help women with crisis pregnancies and the costs of child rearing. I need to think further about what laws ought to be proposed, but beyond financial support, we ought to consider ways that medical costs, childcare, mentoring, counseling, parenting classes, and the like might be made available to those who would previously have chosen abortion. In coming days I’ll be asking those in my sphere what steps the church ought to take to help advocate for appropriate pro-life legislation in a post-Roe world.

After initial publication, one of my friends reached out via Twitter and pointed out that we should also be certain to advocate for legislation that protects women who are undergoing a miscarriage so that they are able to receive life-saving medical treatment. I appreciate her sharing that perspective and completely agree.

We are entering a new era in the history of our nation. It is an era for which many Christians have long hoped and prayed. But a legal victory is not the finish line. It is the beginning of increased ministry. May we work faithfully to serve the women and children in our communities in the name of Jesus. And may we work to build a stronger culture of life.

Image: Subsplash, Ian Hutchinson

This morning the Supreme Court handed down a ruling effectively overturning the fifty year-old precedent of Roe v. Wade and thereby sending abortion laws back to the individual states. I wrote these thoughts regarding Christians and abortion in 2015. (Original link here.) I’ve edited this version some. I hope to come back shortly with thoughts on how the church should proceed in a post-Roe world.

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We love to talk past one another.

This is no more obvious on any issue than that of abortion.

How to talk about such an issue?

As a Christian, I hold to the teaching of Jesus that I am to love my neighbor as myself. Therefore, I hope that my writing will convey that spirit of love. Additionally, this essay is not a condemnation of any woman who has chosen to have an abortion — more on that in a moment — but is instead intended to explain why historically Christians have argued for other options.

With those things in mind:

Part One, Theological and Scriptural Reasons:

1. Christians believe in the sanctity of human life.

This belief is, ultimately, the cornerstone of all orthodox Christian responses to abortion. The ancient Jewish community (the theological predecessor to the church) held to this conviction as well. These convictions begin with a reading of the Bible, the book that Christians hold to be sacred.

The Christian conviction that human life is sacred comes from multiple portions of Scripture, but it springs initially from the opening chapters of Genesis: the creation narrative. Throughout the creation account, the Lord claims that creation is very good. However, after creating humankind in His image (Genesis 1:28), the Lord says that humanity is VERY good. The poetic and structural work of Genesis is not accidental. The Lord has said creation is good five times, but here, the sixth time, he says the work is very good. This is not accidental. He says it is very good, for humanity is the cornerstone and climax of creation.

When Christians oppose abortion, they are beginning with the fundamental belief that humans are the capstone of creation, created in the image of God, and therefore ought to be preserved.

2. Christians believe life begins prior to birth.

The first conviction — the sanctity of human life — is not all that surprising. The rub begins with the second conviction that human life begins prior to birth. (For those who watched the debate surrounding SB5 in Texas in 2013 (Wendy Davis’s filibuster), much of the discussion regarded whether a fetus at 20 weeks could experience pain; while much research suggests the answer is yes, Christians do not believe pain determines personhood.)

This conviction is formed from two places: the reading of Scripture, and the intention of heterosexual intercourse. If you are not a Christian, Scripture will not matter much, but let me list a few of the Scriptures Christians have held to in their understanding of human life beginning prior to birth.

The Psalms declare that those in the womb are being formed by the Lord: “For you formed my inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother’s womb” (Psalm 139:13).

Jeremiah 1:5 states, “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, and before you were born I consecrated you; I appointed you a prophet to the nations.”

Job 31:15 says, “Did not he who made me in the womb make him? And did not one fashion us in the womb?”

There are other Scriptures, as well, but you see the point of them: human life is not only the capstone of creation, but it is formed intentionally in the womb. (Side Note: This is why Christians have supported giving birth to children that are diagnosed with special needs or deformities prior to birth. They believe that even the most deformed of humans are intended by God to honor Him. While over 90% of Down’s Syndrome babies are aborted due to concerns of care and cost, Christians support giving birth to those children because they are still created in God’s image and can show us His image in their lives.)

Beyond Scripture, Christians believe that sex is not merely an act for pleasure, but also for reproduction. In other words, Christians believe that when they engage in sex, they are prepared to welcome and care for any children that may result from that sexual activity. This conviction, of course, affects the way they view sex. As a Christian father, I teach my children that sex is to be reserved for marriage. This is not because I am anti-sex. I am actually pro-sex. But I am pro-sex within marriage because I want any children that result from sexual intercourse to be welcomed into that relationship.

Consequently, Christians believe that if a woman is pregnant, a life has begun and it must be cared for and preserved. (Side Note: There is debate within the Christian community whether life begins at a) conception, b) the formation of a heartbeat,  c) the beginning of brainwaves, or d) at some other point. While there are different answers within the Christian community, there is almost universal agreement within Christianity that the termination of a viable pregnancy is tantamount to murder, for they see the pregnancy as a human life. To be clear, in cases where the mother’s life is in danger, Christians have historically and almost universally understood that an abortion may be a medically necessary procedure.

The earliest Christian ministry manual—The Didache—was written in the second century AD and confirms this has always been a Christian perspective. It simply says, “Thou shall not murder a child by abortion nor kill that which is begotten.” This mindset is not a recent development. The word “fetus,” for example, is Latin for “offspring.” The ancients saw the pregnancy as the beginning of a human life and named it as such.

3. Christians believe children are a blessing. Convictions #1 and #2 then lead to #3. If humans are the capstone of creation, and if life begins prior to birth, then a child is not a liability or a problem, but a gift from God. This is a great dissonance to our culture, particularly in the West. We are, if we are honest with ourselves, rather selfish creatures. We want what we want, and we want it as soon as possible. Children often prevent us from this process of self-actualization, and, consequently, our culture has viewed them as obstacles to overcome, for anything that prevents my self-actualization cannot be good.

I could wax eloquently about how Ben (my oldest son) was an unplanned pregnancy while I was a full-time graduate student and diagnosed with heart failure and my wife was completing her teaching certification leaving us broke, sick, and with child. I could tell you that he and Andrew are the greatest delights in my life.

But such a story is not an argument. It is simply my experience in light of my walk with Jesus.

Christians believe that when God gives a child, he gives a blessing, and therefore, that child should be cherished.

4. Christians believe the prior convictions are higher than personal rights. Many questions arise when an unplanned pregnancy occurs. What if I don’t want to have a baby? What if I can’t provide for this baby? What if the parents will treat this child badly?

Much of the political debate surrounding abortion centers on an issue typically phrased as “woman’s reproductive rights.” Those who believe women ought to be able to terminate a pregnancy argue that limiting that right interferes with personal rights and a woman’s right to control her own body. As I’ve already demonstrated, the Christian conviction that this child is a human life comes into direct contradiction with this opposing conviction of personal rights. Consequently, Christians have argued that the child should be carried full-term while those who support abortion argue that the fetus is not a fully-formed human life and can be terminated.

For example, this New York Times editorial from 2004 about a mother who selectively reduced her pregnancy with triplets to a single pregnancy focuses on individual rights. Her decision is driven by career, lifestyle, etc. Proponents of abortion would support such reasoning; historic Christianity would argue the rights of the unborn children are human rights on the same level as that of the mother. Both sides appeal to human rights. Proponents appeal to rights of freedom; opponents appeal to rights to live.

5. Consequently, Christians are advocates for alternatives to abortion. In his book, The Rise of Christianity, Rodney Stark shows how first-century Christians would rescue unwanted babies from the dump. When pagan Roman families would discard children (usually girls), the Christians would offer to take them in, to adopt them. Christians have always held to a culture of life.

Consequently, Christians not only argue against abortion, but they also argue for fostering and adopting, because they believe that the best path for every child is into a home. Right now I have numerous Christian friends adopting children of all backgrounds, nationalities, and races, because those children are without parents. These friends take seriously the command of James: “True religion is this: to care for widows and orphans.”

I do not have statistics available at this moment, but Christian adoption (through organizations like New Life Adoptions) is on the rise, primarily because Christians feel it is the most effective way to stem the tide of abortion. Such a movement is not without issues, to be certain, but when I talk to friends of mine who have adopted, I am encouraged that adoption is a beautiful way to demonstrate the love of Jesus . (Side Note: I once heard a study claiming that if every church in the United States adopted one child, there would be no need for foster care. I’m grateful to pastor a church with multiple adoptive and foster families.)

Part Two, Sociological Reasons:

I am a pastor, so I want to talk about three particular social issues I find troubling with the issue of abortion, for I think these affect the spirit of humans, and consequently, should be considered by people, even those who are not people of faith.

1. Minorities are affected disproportionately by abortion. There are a legion of reasons why this is the case, but the African-American community is most adversely affected by abortion. Forget about the sinister beginnings of Planned Parenthood being designed “to exterminate the Negro population.” Whether that is intended today or not, abortion terminates pregnancies of minority women at three times the rate of non-Hispanic, white women. In other words, a smaller percentage of the population uses abortion at a higher rate, preventing the expansion and flourishing of that race.

2. Females are affected disproportionately by abortion. I’m not talking about sex-selective abortion, although worldwide more girls than boys are terminated. That is certainly tragic. But I am talking about the post-abortive depression and guilt that thousands of women experience every year, as discussed in this Atlantic monthly article. When women like “Jane Roe” (Norma McCorvey) end up being pro-life by the end of their lives due to the overwhelming feeling that they are killing, this seems to be a sociological phenomenon that ought to be investigated.

3. The majority of Americans oppose late-term abortion. This is not some closed-minded theocracy, as many proponents of abortion would claim. As The Huffington Post reports, Americans overwhelmingly support a ban on late-term abortions: 59% to 30%. If public opinion matters in other social issues (i.e., same-sex marriage) in the eyes of Congress and the courts, shouldn’t such support matter in this social issue?

Postscript: Are You Condemning Women?

One night as part of a church small group, we took turns sharing our story of coming to faith. One of the women in our group confessed that years earlier she had become pregnant and chosen to have an abortion. She broke down into tears, almost hysterical with guilt. And our group modeled Jesus well, in my estimation. We each hugged her. We told her that the Lord had forgiven her through the grace of Christ. And we told her that we each loved her. To this day she is a committed Christian and a close friend.

This essay is not intended to condemn any woman that has chosen to have an abortion. Guilt, manipulation, and anger are not the tools of Jesus. This essay is instead intended to demonstrate why Christians feel strongly about this issue, and it is intended to hopefully change some hearts.

If you are a woman who has had an abortion, or if you are friends with a woman who has made such a choice, I hope you will understand the desire of the church is this: To show love and to offer grace.

I hope you will not hate Christians because they want to see abortions reduced and, one day, eliminated. We believe we are preserving human life, that portion of creation most treasured by God. And I hope you have not felt attacked. Instead, I hope you have understood our position, and I hope you will respect us as we speak into the democratic public square of our nation, a place where all voices can be heard, including those that belong to people of faith.

Image: Subsplash

Evil in the world is far worse than any fairy tale villain.

Evil is real. And it will come calling.

You might bristle at the thought. You may not have experienced evil firsthand. But millions of our neighbors have no such luxury. Those in Ukraine who have seen their nation razed by Russian artillery know that Putin is an evil man. Those in Uvalde who grieve the loss of grade schoolers murdered know that evil kills. Those Uighurs lined up for involuntary organ harvesting within concentration camps at the hands of the Chinese government understand evil.

Lately our congregation has experience more evil than normal. A few weeks ago, five people with long-standing generational ties to our church were murdered. Just days after the funeral, another man in our congregation was murdered. And then, almost unbelievably, just days after that murder, a man in our church’s neighborhood was murdered. He lived across the street from one of our elders.

Each of these murders was senseless. No motive of vengeance. No sensational details.

Just…evil.

Many within the United States or the comfortable confines of Western Christianity have hesitated to use the word “evil” in recent years. We have been insulated, perhaps, from pain. We have been protected from a violent government. We have experienced relative comfort and ease.

It’s why evil is so startling. When you are sailing smooth seas, you do not expect the hidden rocky crag waiting to destroy your ship’s hull.

But evil is here. No mistaking it.

The Bible is unflinching in its recognition of the reality of evil. Most biblical scholars agree that the oldest book of the Bible is Job—a timeless wrestle with evil in which a blameless man loses everything. The oldest writing in our collection of ancient Scriptures is a book grappling with the question of evil. Before the wonder of creation, the Bible stares down the problem of pain. Over and over, in fact, the Bible bluntly tells us that we will not escape this life unscathed:

“In this life you will have trouble.”

“It rains on the just and the unjust.”

“Consider it pure joy when you face trials of many kinds.”

“The thief comes to steal, kill, and destroy.”

Most of us have written a fairy tale for our lives in our minds. We have envisioned a blissful marriage or perfect children or eternal friendships or a skyrocketing career. But there are no fairy tale lives in the real world. In the real world, marriage is a fight. Children are impossible to predict. Friendships ebb and flow. If you have lived for very long, you have already experienced this.

But we tend to fantasize about the fairy tale, to try to rewrite the very things happening in front of us.

We would do well to take the unflinching view of the Bible:

You will find much beauty and good in the world. But you will also walk through fire. And you will be burned.

Some people mistakenly believe that if they choose to follow Jesus, they will not be touched by evil. But that is not the case. Jesus himself was murdered. His earliest followers were routinely beaten and killed.

Faith in Jesus does not protect us from evil. Faith in Jesus is what sustains us when evil visits.

When the Lord answers Job, He does not give Job easy answers as to why evil visits, but He does assure Job of one thing: His sovereignty over all of creation. He is the one who laid the foundations of the earth. He is the one who sees all things. He is the one who is wise.

Scripture is unflinching about the existence of evil. But the Bible is also unflinching about the goodness of God.

When evil comes, you will either look at the world and believe it to be random and meaningless, or you will trust that God is good and will work all things for the good according to His purposes (Romans 8:28).

When evil comes, you will either hope in the Resurrection, or you will be hopeless because you will believe that death is the end.

God can redeem the worst of evils. I have seen it happen. I am watching it happen even now. I believe He can do it even in the midst of whatever evils may befall you. The first Christians believed that by suffering well we showed the very nature of God, because Jesus suffered well, and Jesus brought about redemption.

Yes, evil will visit. Yes, you will be burned by this life.

But while you are being burned, even as your storybook ship is being smashed by the crags of life, faith in Jesus can sustain and bring hope. Faith can redeem. Faith can give us the strength to carry on. Faith glorifies God while also bringing us closer to Him. Faith allows us to experience His love and peace when the world is on fire.

Faith is what allows Him to rewrite your story. To take what was meant for evil and to write it for good.

And that’s better than any fairy tale.

Because it’s the truth of how things really are.

Image: Subsplash, Daniel Jansen

Memory is a cruel mistress.

When I was in seventh grade, I tried to be funny. It failed. I still physically wince when I remember what I said in front of my friends. It was not funny. It was awkward, at best. More honestly, it was terrible. Offensive, even. I still can’t believe I said those words.

Even odder is that I still remember it. I regretted the words the moment they left my mouth, and now, some 34 years later, I still feel foolish for having uttered them.

As someone who tries mightily to avoid mistakes, this memory still somehow assails me, jumping out at the least opportune moment, bludgeoning my dignity.

And this happened in the seventh grade over something dumb I said.

Since then I have made much more consequential mistakes, much more colossal errors.

When I became a pastor, I envisioned teaching the Bible and making hospital visits, leading worship services and sharing the gospel. I never considered that I would become an organizational leader. More frankly, that wasn’t what I wanted. Perhaps intuitively, I knew that being out front meant being the one to absorb criticism.

And, for me, here’s the odd thing: Criticism doesn’t necessarily bother me. Like anyone else, I don’t enjoy unfounded criticism, but I truly enjoy improving, so I enjoy feedback. I’ve worked harder in recent years to created more spaces and systems for personal feedback, because I want to grow as a pastor and a leader.

The thing I hate isn’t criticism. I hate making mistakes. I hate being wrong. And I really hate remember how wrong I was. Over and over and over.

The thing about those careless words in the seventh grade that bother me so deeply isn’t the actual words I said. It’s that I knew I would regret them before I said them, and then I said them, anyway. I hate making mistakes.

I’m generous with grace to those around me. I’m far less gracious with myself.

I can forgive those who wrong me with relative ease. I can punish myself for a boneheaded mistake for years. 34 years and counting, it seems.

I have made more mistakes as a pastor in the last decade—maybe the last five years—than in the rest of my life combined. Just thinking about some of them makes my face turn red, my eyes cast downward. It’s quite pleasant outside as I type these words, yet an involuntary shudder just shook my body. I hate making mistakes. And I hate that I have made so many of them recently.

I think of decisions I made regarding the church in the wake of Harvey, particularly regarding facilities and our finances. I think of staff debacles that were glaringly obvious to those around me while I continued  to believe the best. I think about families who have left our church for other congregations over the years and wonder if I did something to offend them. (They say no, but I wonder, anyway.) I think about the way I led our church through those early days of COVID and wonder what, if anything, I should have done differently. I think about that journalist.

I think about these—and so many more—things, and I wonder, “Am I a failure?”

I recently sat with some older and wiser church members and confessed all of these emotions.

The wife calmly countered, “If you know you did not intentionally disobey the Lord, then you need to let those mistakes go. That’s all they are: mistakes.”

Almost immediately followed by, “And remember that God gives grace for the rest.”

Talk about a one-two punch of gospel-soaked freedom. I didn’t know that I had been carrying those decisions, but I almost immediately felt physically lighter, like the winds of grace swept them straight from my shoulders.

I had secretly been feeling like a failure, and I didn’t realize it. I had been flagellating myself with honest mistakes—things for which I would have forgiven anyone else. And I was holding on to things for which Jesus had died. And I did those things because I held myself to an impossible standard—perfection.

I imagine you, too, might have fallen prey to the Perfect Game—the elusive search for the version of you that will only exist one day in Glory. I also imagine that you, too, have things you have done about which you are ashamed, things that you remember and wish you could forget, things the Enemy dredges up when you are walking closely with the Lord. I also imagine that you have genuine rebellion in your past—things that were not mistakes but were instead your kicking against the goads when you knew you should be walking with the Spirit.

If your feet and hands are bloody from fighting the grace of God and from beating yourself, might I remind you of a Cosmic Truth?

Yes, you were a spectacular failure.

But the blood of Jesus is the only blood you need on you these days.

You don’t need to kick; his feet have already been pierced for your rebellion.

You don’t need to beat yourself; his body has already taken your punishment.

You don’t need to swat away those lies; his hands are scarred with the truth.

On the days when you feel like a failure, remember the grace of God. Let it pull you back to the Body; allow it to make you one again with the One who fashioned you. Remember that mistakes are not the same as disobedience and remember that even the greatest of your disobediences have been covered by grace.

Remember these things instead.

Memory can be a cruel mistress.

But memory can also lead us to bread and cup, pierced hands and feet, an empty tomb, and the Spirit that gives new life.

Image: Unsplash

¿Quién ha creído a nuestro anuncio? ¿y sobre quién se ha manifestado el brazo de Jehová? 2 Subirá cual renuevo delante de él, y como raíz de tierra seca; no hay parecer en él, ni hermosura; le veremos, mas sin atractivo para que le deseemos. 3 Despreciado y desechado entre los hombres, varón de dolores, experimentado en quebranto; y como que escondimos de él el rostro, fue menospreciado, y no lo estimamos. 4 Ciertamente llevó él nuestras enfermedades, y sufrió nuestros dolores; y nosotros le tuvimos por azotado, por herido de Dios y abatido. 5 Mas él herido fue por nuestras rebeliones, molido por nuestros pecados; el castigo de nuestra paz fue sobre él, y por su llaga fuimos nosotros curados. Isaías 53:1-5

Aquello que ha sido sanado usualmente mantiene la memoria de aquello de lo cual ha sido sanado. El dolor sigue siendo parte de nuestro pasado aun cuando hayamos sido sanados.
El quebrantamiento de Jesús trajo la sanidad de nuestras heridas. Y así como el dolor y el quebrantamiento no fueron el final de la historia para Jesús, tampoco lo serán para la nuestra. Aunque el dolor sea parte de nuestro pasado, no tiene la última palabra en nuestra vida. En Jesús podemos encontrar sanidad física, emocional y espiritual. Un día Jesús secará cada lagrima de nuestros ojos; un día seremos completamente sanados y restaurados, y el dolor sera al fin borrado de nuestra memoria para siempre.

No tenemos porque avergonzarnos de nuestro dolor y de nuestras heridas porque fue por ellas que Cristo ofreció su vida en sacrificio. Toda bendición a la que tenemos acceso en la vida cristiana es debido al sacrificio de Cristo en la cruz. El Dios que creo todas las cosas fue herido y quebrantado para que nosotros pudieramos ser sanos y libres de la esclavitud del pecado. Esta es una buena noticia, digna de recordar y de compartir!

I have chased a desire to be remembered, to be admired, to have my name on the spine of a book that someone might read a hundred years hence. I have yearned for permanence, to live beyond my body, for people to seek out my words, my thoughts. I have sought immortality—not spiritually, but to achieve a sort of legendary status among people.

I share this as a confession. I am not proud of this fact. In fact, it is somewhat embarrassing to type these words, to admit that I wanted people to consult my opinions a century beyond my death. But it is in confession that freedom is found. It is only when we admit our most ridiculous imaginings that we can move from the fantastical and into the real.

I have often viewed myself as the sum of my work, the bulk of my production. The more that I achieve, the more notable I am. This is certainly common among humans. How many conversations do we begin by asking, “What do you do?” In knowing someone’s job, we assess and judge their character, their drive, their intelligence. None of this is grounded in reality, of course, but it is what we do. We are obsessed with doing. And for those like myself, who have been deeply infected with the virus of doing and production, we have subconsciously and consciously pursued immortality. We convince ourselves that if we do enough, that if we make an impact, then our names will somehow be chiseled into the halls of human memory.

None of this is healthy, per se. But it is true.

But what if our best work is the invisible? What if the things that matter most are the things that are never seen, that are not in the least productive?

I rise early most mornings. I let the dogs out and make the coffee. I bring the dogs back in and feed them. Then, with them settled, I fill my cup and I sit on the couch. When I was preoccupied with doing, I had a plan. I had a certain number of chapters to read in my Bible. And then a prayer list to march through. And to be done by a certain time so that I could move on to the next thing. When I became aware of my addiction to production, I changed my rhythm.

I now sit in the dark in the morning, sip my coffee and intentionally do nothing. My mind wanders. It floats into prayers. It floats into a posture of listening silence. I pray, yes, but it is far less structured. I eventually read my Bible, but not in a hurried or perfunctory way. I do not pray in order to produce. I pray in order to commune with God. Deep work is happening in those moments, but it may not be immediately apparent.

Poetry is not productive. It startles us because it observes the common in a fresh way, coming round from a perspective that is surprising, that is methodical, that is intentionally slow. Poetry is not productive but is so very helpful. Poetry is not productive, but it is so very good. It reminds us of things we did not know we had forgotten. Poetry is the literary equivalent of sitting quietly. Deep work is happening, but it may not be immediately apparent.

Some of the best work I do is not productive. It is sitting at tables in houses, sitting face-to-face in my office, listening and advising. These conversations will not show up in attendance or baptism statistics. But they are the place where pastoral poetry is written. It is there, when hearts are shaped by the Spirit that deep work happens. But it may not be immediately apparent.

I hope you make beautiful things in and with your life. I hope you paint and write and build and cook. But you are far more than those things. And if, as Zinzendorf said, you die and are forgotten, if you lived your life in Christ, then you are gifted with permanence, but it is a permanence unlike that on the spine of a book. It is a life in God—where in living with Him, we fellowship forever. We are permanent in the City That Never Fades.

Stop being productive. Instead, embrace your invisibility and enjoy the love of God in Christ.

Deep work is happening, but it may not be immediately apparent.

Image: Big Bend at night. Source: Unsplash

El Espíritu de Jehová el Señor está sobre mí, porque me ungió Jehová; me ha enviado a predicar buenas nuevas a los abatidos, a vendar a los quebrantados de corazón, a publicar libertad a los cautivos, y a los presos apertura de la cárcel; 2 a proclamar el año de la buena voluntad de Jehová, y el día de venganza del Dios nuestro; a consolar a todos los enlutados; 3 a ordenar que a los afligidos de Sion se les dé gloria en lugar de ceniza, óleo de gozo en lugar de luto, manto de alegría en lugar del espíritu angustiado; y serán llamados árboles de justicia, plantío de Jehová, para gloria suya. 4 Reedificarán las ruinas antiguas, y levantarán los asolamientos primeros, y restaurarán las ciudades arruinadas, los escombros de muchas generaciones. 5 Y extranjeros apacentarán vuestras ovejas, y los extraños serán vuestros labradores y vuestros viñadores. 6 Y vosotros seréis llamados sacerdotes de Jehová, ministros de nuestro Dios seréis llamados; comeréis las riquezas de las naciones, y con su gloria seréis sublimes. - Isaías 61:1-6 -

Muchas veces através de nuestra vida, vamos cargando con cosas que no nos ayudan a cumplir el propósito que Dios tiene para nuestra vida; como por ejemplo desilusiones, preocupaciones, y muchas otras cosas que hacen que nuestro corazón se sienta cargado y que la vida se vuelva mas dura y pesada. La buena noticia es que no tenemos porque seguir cargando con todas estas cosas porque nuestro Dios nos ofrece algo mucho mejor.

El transfondo de este pasaje en Isaías tiene que ver con el Año del Jubileo descrito en Levitico 25. Cada siete años, el pueblo Judio debía observar un año sabático donde la tierra debía descansar. Después del septimo año sabático, es decir después del año 49, el pueblo debía celebrar el año 50 como el Año del Jubileo durante el cual todas las deudas eran canceladas, la tierra era devuelta a sus dueños originales, los esclavos eran liberados, y donde todos tenían la oportunidad de un nuevo comienzo.

¿Qué tiene que ver esto con nosotros? Pues que todos aquellos que hemos confiado en Jesús cómo nuestro salvador, estamos viviendo en un año de jubileo espiritual, en “el año favorable del Señor”. Él Señor nos a liberado de la esclavitud del pecado, él ha cambiado nuestra tristeza en alegría, nos ha vestido de ropas de salvación, y nos ha envuelto en un manto de justicia (Isaías 61:3; 10).

¡Sin lugar a dudas que éstas son buenas noticias!

Ten piedad de mí, oh Dios, conforme a tu misericordia; Conforme a la multitud de tus piedades borra mis rebeliones. 2 Lávame más y más de mi maldad, Y límpiame de mi pecado. 3 Porque yo reconozco mis rebeliones, Y mi pecado está siempre delante de mí. 4 Contra ti, contra ti solo he pecado, Y he hecho lo malo delante de tus ojos; Para que seas reconocido justo en tu palabra, Y tenido por puro en tu juicio. 5 He aquí, en maldad he sido formado, Y en pecado me concibió mi madre. 6 He aquí, tú amas la verdad en lo íntimo, Y en lo secreto me has hecho comprender sabiduría. 7 Purifícame con hisopo, y seré limpio; Lávame, y seré más blanco que la nieve. 8 Hazme oír gozo y alegría, Y se recrearán los huesos que has abatido. 9 Esconde tu rostro de mis pecados, Y borra todas mis maldades. 10 Crea en mí, oh Dios, un corazón limpio, Y renueva un espíritu recto dentro de mí. 11 No me eches de delante de ti, Y no quites de mí tu santo Espíritu. 12 Vuélveme el gozo de tu salvación, Y espíritu noble me sustente. 13 Entonces enseñaré a los transgresores tus caminos, Y los pecadores se convertirán a ti. 14 Líbrame de homicidios, oh Dios, Dios de mi salvación; Cantará mi lengua tu justicia. 15 Señor, abre mis labios, Y publicará mi boca tu alabanza. 16 Porque no quieres sacrificio, que yo lo daría; No quieres holocausto. 17 Los sacrificios de Dios son el espíritu quebrantado; Al corazón contrito y humillado no despreciarás tú, oh Dios. - Salmos 51:1-12.-

Estamos a unos días de Semana Santa, donde los cristianos recordamos la muerte de Jesús y celebramos su resurrección. Y este es un tiempo ideal para preparar nuestro corazón de tal manera que podamos estar más sensibles a aquello que el Señor nos quiere hablar a cada uno de nosotros. Pero para eso, debemos dejar de lado aquello que estorba en nuestra relación con Dios.

Alguien dijo que lo que la suciedad es para el cuerpo, es el pecado para el corazón. Y basado en esto, no es difícil que muchos de nosotros nos identifiquemos con el rey David en éste Salmo 51. Así como David, muchos de nosotros le hemos fallado a Dios, nos hemos rebelado contra él; en pocas palabras, hemos errado al blanco. Pero la buena noticia es que a pesar de todo eso, podemos apelar a la gracia, misericordia, y al amor de Dios. En éste Salmo, el rey David expresa tres peticiones ante Dios: límpiame, restáurame, úsame.

Muchas veces queremos por nosotros mismos limpiar nuestro corazón de aquello que sabemos que no está bien, pero eso no nos toca a nosotros sino al Señor. Nosotros pedimos, y el limpia. Así como David, nuestro trabajo es pedir y Dios se encarga de limpiar.

Pero David quizo ir mas allá, pidió no solo ser limpio sino tambien restaurado para poder servir de manera agradable al Señor. El sabía que su corazón era la fuente de sus problemas y que él solo no podría cambiarlo, así que acude a el único que podía hacer tal milagro.

La palabra “límpiame” en éste Salmo hace referencia a la limpieza de ropa sucia. En el tiempo de David, el lavar y cambiar de ropa significaba un nuevo comienzo. Y hoy, es un buen día para que nosotros también comencemos de nuevo. Lo que debemos hacer, es venir ante él único que puede crear un corazón nuevo y renovar nuestro espíritu para poder servirle como el desea. Solo así esas áreas escondidas de nuestra vida podran ser limpiadas y nuestro espíritu brillar para su gloria.

Buscad a Jehová mientras puede ser hallado, llamadle en tanto que está cercano. 7 Deje el impío su camino, y el hombre inicuo sus pensamientos, y vuélvase a Jehová, el cual tendrá de él misericordia, y al Dios nuestro, el cual será amplio en perdonar. 8 Porque mis pensamientos no son vuestros pensamientos, ni vuestros caminos mis caminos, dijo Jehová. 9 Como son más altos los cielos que la tierra, así son mis caminos más altos que vuestros caminos, y mis pensamientos más que vuestros pensamientos. 10 Porque como desciende de los cielos la lluvia y la nieve, y no vuelve allá, sino que riega la tierra, y la hace germinar y producir, y da semilla al que siembra, y pan al que come, 11 así será mi palabra que sale de mi boca; no volverá a mí vacía, sino que hará lo que yo quiero, y será prosperada en aquello para que la envié. - Isaías 55:6-11
 
Alguien alguna vez dijo que la fe comienza en el momento en el que termina nuestro entendimiento, en el punto donde nos damos cuenta de que hay cosas sucediendo en nuestra vida que no entendemos. Este pasaje en Isaías 55 nos dice que los pensamientos y caminos de Dios no son iguales a los nuestros, los suyos son muy superiors. Cuando entendemos eso, nuestro orgullo cede y podemos caminar en humildad.

No es fácil soltar el control de nuestra vida cuando tomamos en cuenta de que vivimos en una sociedad en la que todo actúa de tal manera que nos hace creer que nosotros tenemos el control. Así que estos versículos quizá puedan ser la invitación que estabamos esperando para entregar nuestras cargas en Él Señor y confiar en que él tiene el control de toda nuestra vida.

Podemos confiar en que aún cuando no entendemos lo que está sucediendo, Dios sigue estando en control y nos guarda en el hueco de su mano. Descansemos en esa verdad y confiemos en Dios plenamente.

Echa tu pan sobre las aguas, que después de muchos días lo hallarás. 2 reparte tu porción con siete, o aun con ocho, porque no sabes qué mal puede venir sobre la tierra.
3 Si las nubes están llenas, derraman lluvia sobre la tierra; Y caiga el árbol al sur o al norte, donde cae el árbol allí se queda. 4 el que observa el viento no siembra, y el que mira las nubes no siega. 5 Como no sabes cuál es el camino del viento, o cómo se forman los huesos en el vientre de la mujer encinta, tampoco conoces la obra de Dios que hace todas las cosas. 6 de mañana siembra tu semilla y a la tarde no des reposo a tu mano; porque no sabes si esto o aquello prosperará, o si ambas cosas serán igualmente buenas.  - Eclesiastés 11:1-6

En nuestro caminar con Dios, Él a veces nos lleva a un lugar que no esperábamos, a donde “no hay nada”, en lugar de la dirección de la promesa. Esto puede hacer que lleguemos a cuestionar sus planes. Pero debemos resistir el querer tener a un Dios que podamos controlar.

La historia, y nuestra propia vida, demuestran que él es un Dios en el que podemos confiar. Si solo seguimos adelante cuando entendemos lo que él está haciendo nos quedaremos cortos de experimentar sus inexplicables maravillas. La vida es una aventura de fe, y cada uno de nosotros somos como el sembrador que hecha la semilla confiando en Dios por la cosecha.

Si meditamos en su fidelidad y su amor, nuestras dudas y confusiones se desvanecerán en la esperanza que tenemos en él.

“Do not quench the Spirit.”—1 Thessalonians 5:19

Somewhere along the way, holiness lost its luster.

The priests in the Bible wore a sign on their foreheads inscribed with the words, “Holy Unto the Lord.” The wording made it plain—the priests were to do the work of the Lord, and to do his work alone.

When I was younger in the faith and in life, I took this understanding of holiness to heart. “To be holy means to be set apart,” I was told. And I understood it. We were to live differently, to be a people who weren’t afraid to be odd in our actions. As I left college and became a pastor, I truly wanted to pursue holiness.

Yet, as I got older, I began to notice that I nudged further and further away from personal holiness.

Ironically enough, this was driven—at least in part—as I began to understand grace. As I drank deeply at the well of Reformed theology in my 20s and early 30s, I was confronted over and over with a stunning truth—God did not love me because of my actions. He simply loved me. Period. At the same time, I discovered the dangers of legalism—people who believed that God would love them if they simply did the right things in the right way.

I didn’t want to be a legalist. And I certainly wanted to plunge headlong into the depths of grace. And so, somewhere, I stopped worrying about holiness. I stopped worrying about my speech. Or what I watched. Or what I listened to. Or…you get the point. I was walking in grace, and I was loving it. To be fair, I didn’t walk too far down a path too many worried about, because I wasn’t overtly rebellious. But I certainly wasn’t chasing personal holiness.

You could call it trying to be cool. Or you call it is growing up. Some preachers might call it worldliness. But, to be honest, I just didn’t see the rationale in holiness. Holiness seemed pointless.

Without thinking, I had stumbled into one of the issues the apostle Paul warned the earliest Christians about when it came to grace. In those days, people would take grace for granted, arguing, “Why worry? God will forgive us!” Paul gave the counter argument: “Should I sin so that grace might abound? God forbid!” (Romans 6:1) The German pastor and theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer had argued about such a posture in his book, (The Cost of) Discipleship, calling such an attitude “cheap grace.” I had a double reason to be embarrassed. I knew that verse. And I wrote my doctoral dissertation on Bonhoeffer. But I missed it.

How?

In short, I had confused legalism and holiness. I define legalism as doing things (i.e., keeping rules) so that God will love you. As I already mentioned, that’s impossible. God simply loves, because God is love. But holiness is not legalism. Holiness is different. Holiness is a response to the grace God has shown me. Since God loves me and has offered me grace, I act from a position of thankfulness. I am grateful for the love and the grace He has given, so I now want to experience Him as deeply as I can. I want as much of God as possible. And how do I experience God at a deeper level? Personal holiness.

I am not an electrical engineer, but I have several in my church. And I have learned from them something I never knew about the way electricity behaves. If I hold a piece of copper wire in my hand and stand underneath a power line and hold that copper wire parallel to the power lines above, the wire in my hand will be filled with electricity. Why? Because the copper wire in my hand has both proximity and alignment. But if I move the wire away or if the wire gets out of alignment, it will no longer have power. Both proximity and alignment matter.

This is the way holiness operates. When I draw close to God (proximity) and I obey His commands (alignment), then I am like the copper wire underneath the power lines. I am able to experience the power of God within all Christians—the Holy Spirit. If I move away from God or disobey His commands, I am still filled with Holy Spirit, but I will not experience God in the same way. This is why Paul warns us, “Do not quench the Spirit.” (1 Thessalonians 5:19) While I can never lose the Holy Spirit, I can diminish the Spirit’s power in my life. I am a conduit for the power of the Spirit. When I am close to God and in alignment, then His power flows more freely within my life.

So holiness is different than legalism. Legalism is doing something so that God will love me. Holiness, however, is obeying God in response to His grace so that I can experience more of Him in my life. Holiness is not about controlling how much God loves me. Holiness is choosing to live a life as close to God as possible so that I might know more of Him.

Do you want to know more of God? Do you want to experience more of Him? Would you like to sense the Spirit’s power in your life? Draw close to Him in proximity. The Bible says, “Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you.” (James 4:8) And then obey him in holiness. Rather than quenching the Spirit, fan the flame of the Spirit in obedience. And, when you do, the Lord will allow you to experience more of His goodness and the joy of His grace.

Following rules doesn’t make God love us more.

But pursuing holiness certainly isn’t pointless.

It’s the secret to fanning the flames of God.

I do believe; help my unbelief!—Mark 9:24

I wanted to quit in June of 2020. I was tired, for a number of reasons. Our church had just emerged from a 26 month-long rebuilding process in the wake of a hurricane. Our campus was devastated (along with the neighborhood). COVID argumentation was at its peak. George Floyd’s death sparked a national response. It was an election year, and rhetoric was heated. My denomination was embroiled in yet another controversy. One of my pastor friends in the area resigned. He turned out to be the first of many in that season.

I called one of my friends, and he came over. We sat on the back patio, and I wept as we prayed. I asked God—no, I begged God—to release me from the pastorate.

I don’t “hear from God” often. But I did that day. He said, “No.”

*****

I often joke with my sons that I can hardly wait for them to be poor. Joy and I are on stable financial footing these days, but there was a time when our checking account was more like quicksand. I was a graduate student for many years, and we had a couple of babies during those years. I also had a pacemaker (or two) implanted. In short, we had many years where we weren’t making much, and life was expensive.

Living with little money demands creativity and heartiness. We would go on dates to the bookstore where we would collect magazines and sit at a table and read them, pointing out fun excursions to one another. Then we would put them all back on the shelf and leave without purchasing a thing. Our first Christmas together our spending limit for one another was ten dollars. I got Joy a Lite-Brite so she could write “Merry Christmas” on it in red and green. We regularly ate one dollar boxed dinners from Walmart. We literally prayed for sales as we purchased groceries. Joy wore the same borrowed dark red maternity blouse for the final two weeks of her first pregnancy. We were not the poorest. But we were poor.

Conversely, my sons have (to date) known little of want. Don’t get me wrong; we tell them, “No,” plenty. But for them, it’s rarely been a matter of hardship. And I am glad that their life—to this point—has been relatively comfortable. I’m also glad that soon my oldest son will graduate from college and have to work a job while he is in graduate school. It will be good for him to live with less, to learn to manage on little. I’m not a mean father; however, I want my sons to learn something that deeply formed me.

It is a lesson true with money, but it also true with so much else in life:

When you have experienced poverty, you are grateful for the bounty.

*****

There is a story in the Bible of a man who comes to Jesus. His son is demon-possessed, and he asks Jesus to help. He says, “But if you can do anything, have compassion on us and help us.” Jesus says, “‘If you can?’ Everything is possible for the one who believes.” The man’s frailty is on display. He says something that seems to be impossible: “I do believe; help my unbelief!”

Have you ever been there? Have you ever felt that you have a living faith and yet at the same time that you are completely at the end of your faith rope? That was this man. He believed in Jesus, or he would not have come. And yet he wasn’t sure what Jesus could do.

If you have ever prayed for a gas station to appear because the needle was below “E,” you know how this man felt. He had faith. But not much left.

*****

I didn’t quit that day on the patio in June of 2020. Why? Because as God said, “No,” he did something beautiful. He brought to mind all of the times that He has delivered me over the years. He reminded me of the time someone showed up at our house with $500 when I couldn’t pay for Joy’s engagement ring. He reminded me of the time that I was supposed to die within two years of heart failure—twenty years ago. He reminded me of our church plant and the lives changed there. He reminded me of the supernatural call to Houston. He reminded me of incident after incident where He had been faithful.

And just like that—I could sense my tank filling up.

I could have faith, not because I felt like going on, but because He had proven faithful time and time again.

These moments of faith scarcity can be frightening; they can make you question if your faith is real. Remember: When you have experienced poverty, you are grateful for the bounty. These moments in the valley make the mountaintop vistas more stunning. The roots formed during storms produce sturdier trunks. The pruning at the hand of the Gardener allows even more fruit. You may be in a moment of poverty, but if you follow Him, He brings the bounty of faith in due time.

As you look back at your life you will see moments where He has proven faithful. I have no doubt that your life has been difficult. So has mine. But He has never left me. Nor has He left you. And He continues to be faithful, even when I am not. Remember those moments, and allow Him to turn your unbelief into belief. Allow Him to put fuel into your faith tank.

Allow him to turn your unbelief into belief.

Image Credit: Christian Erfurt

But I have this against you: You have abandoned the love you had at first.—Revelation 2:4

The world feels harder these days.

I don’t use the word “harder” in the sense of more difficult, although you could certainly make that argument. I use “harder” to mean cynical, grizzled, and suspicious. We are, on the whole, meaner these days—hardened by two years of pandemic living, partisan division, and plain old weariness.

Criticism is more biting than before. Anger is nearer to the surface than before.

Sadly, these qualities are not only found “out there.” They are also in the church. We aren’t immune to the anger. When you simmer in a stew of anger, your blood begins to boil, as well.

While teaching through Revelation, I was reminded of how to best cool our anger and to revive our hearts. We must love Jesus—first and foremost. Jesus told the believers in Ephesus quite simply: “I have this against you: You have abandoned the love you had at first.”

They used to love him. And now they don’t.

First love—at least in my mind—is defined by two qualities: passion and position.

Passion is the emotion that marks a first love. It will drive us to do without sleep, to embark on ridiculous quests, to rearrange our schedules, to even wear neckties. When I first met my wife, I would do whatever it took to demonstrate my affection and devotion. On Valentine’s Day I awoke before sunrise and made breakfast for her and her roommates—and then served each of them breakfast in bed. When I wanted to propose, I saved every penny possible to purchase an engagement ring. I did whatever I could to be with her and to show her my love—because I had passion.

Many of us once had a passion for Jesus that has long since waned. We used to sing worship songs at all hours. We used to pray in the dark hours of the quiet morning. We used to study the Scriptures to understand the very character of our God. We would serve in church. We would do whatever we could to stoke the flame in our hearts until our desire for God burned with a white-hot passion.

But, over time, such passion cools. Just like with my wife, love grows and passions adjust. There is no doubt that I love my wife, but I also enjoy having a regular sleep schedule these days.

That’s why position matters. Even when passion might fade, first love stays in the top position. If I suddenly began elevating the needs of our dachshunds over those of my wife, that would be a problem. If I only did what our sons asked and ignored the requests of my wife, that would also be a problem. I love my sons very much. And, yes, I have an embarrassing amount of affection for my tiny German dogs. But yet, my love for my wife is the love in first place in my house.

Occasionally, however, even those of us who have been married for 22 years have moments where the passion returns. We will take a trip for just the two of us. Or we will have a date night. Or something will happen—and some of those old feelings bubble up in the best of ways, and we can eschew sleep and responsibility once again.

When you maintain loves in the right position, passion may not be constant, but it can return to remind you.

I fear many of us have relegated Jesus to a lower position. Perhaps it was the weariness induced by COVID. Perhaps we got tired of arguing. Maybe our own life circumstances roughed us up. But somewhere along the way, other things became more important and, as a result, we have no passion for Jesus—at all. And, as a result, we’re certainly a harder person than we used to be.

Jesus tells those who want to restore him to first love status to do two things: Remember and repent.

First, remember the love you used to have. Remember the way you felt when you first understood the gospel. Remember how you were amazed at God’s grace. Remember the reality of God saving you from condemnation. Remember the the goodness of God and all that initially entailed. Remember the things you did when you first discovered the goodness of God.

And then repent. Do the things you used to do, Jesus says. Go back to doing those. When you love me like you used to, worship like you used to, serve like you used to—then you’ll find things changing. Your heart will become tender.

Your passion will rekindle once you restore Jesus to his correct position. And that is something you can change with action.

By way of confession: I found myself growing harder of heart in the last two years at various moments. And, in those moments, I also noticed Jesus was not in first place in my heart.

The world is so cynical and hard these days, you might think loving Jesus is the last thing we need. It might seem like a sign of weakness. To the contrary, I am convinced that those of us most committed to love are the ones most committed to the idea of what it means to truly be human. You can only change others when you love them first. I have seen it time and again. And—for me—I love others best when I am loving Jesus most.

Here’s to loving Jesus again.

In later years, evangelicals have discovered liturgy. We are reciting more creeds, confessions, and prayers than ever before. We are taking the Supper more often. When I was a child, most Baptist churches took the Supper quarterly so that it would be “special.” Now more and more churches opt for a weekly observance. More of us are celebrating Advent and Lent, incorporating the church calendar into congregations that once had never heard of either. Even more recently, some Baptist theologians have founded the Center for Baptist Renewal, self-described as, “evangelical Baptists committed to a retrieval of the Great Tradition of the historic church for the renewal of Baptist faith and practice.”

The reasons for this retrieval are multi-layered. Theological drift plays some role. As some denominations and churches moved towards unorthodox theology and practice, the cries of “no creed but the Bible” were found somewhat wanting, pushing some to buttress them with ancient practices of the past. I believe the change of hymnody also plays a part. Modern worship songs appeal to younger audiences and newer believers, but with the loss of ancient songs, worshippers have a desire to know that the local congregation is rooted in something larger, something more established. Shifting culture almost certainly plays a part, as well. As technology and customs evolve at increasing speed, the desire for tradition and permanence increases.

Liturgy is helpful. We know what we believe as we recite the creeds. We appreciate the gift of the Incarnation through Advent, the beauty of fasting in Lent, the power of God’s sacrifice through Holy Week. I personally love a congregational recitation of the Lord’s Prayer. As we do these things—speak, sing, eat—over and over, our hearts are formed in powerful and beautiful ways. I am certainly not the first to observe this. The most influential voice of late regarding liturgy is that belonging to James K.A. Smith. His Kingdom Trilogy is among the best I have read on this topic, but can be summed up thusly: You are what you love, and you train yourself to love by what you do.

Liturgy in the church, Smith notes, is helpful, for it trains us through repetition.

It is helpful.

But it is not enough.

I have been serving in Baptist churches for about 25 years. In those 25 years, I would say that about half of the people who have joined those churches have come from liturgical backgrounds. These Catholics, Episcopalians, Anglicans, Lutherans, Methodists, and the like have come with a far richer understanding of the church calendar. They can recite the creeds from memory. They know the rhythms of sacraments better than I do in some cases.

So why do they leave their churches and venture into one like mine?

Almost to a person: They want to know the Bible.

Smith calls this “The Godfather Problem” in the third book of his Kingdom Trilogy—knowing a great deal of theology and liturgy but not knowing the Scripture behind the liturgy. (Minor claim to fame: I wrote him an e-mail that led to him discussing this very issue.) Indeed, as he says, we can participate in liturgy and yet be “unformed or perhaps even malformed.”

After all of these years, I’ve realized that liturgy is good for the formation it offers, but it cannot be separated from the systematic and intentional reading and teaching of the Scriptures. Many liturgical traditions feature multiple Scripture readings in a traditional worship service. I would humbly suggest that reading the Scriptures is good, but having someone to explain and teach the Scriptures is even better.

The actions of liturgy cannot be divorced from the teachings of the Scriptures.

We need our hearts and minds to be formed by doing, yes. But we also need our hearts and minds to be formed by understanding.

This is why the best liturgies (in my mind) will always incorporate serious study and explanation of the Scriptures. To be sure, my tradition and denomination has its issues. But one of our strengths has been a long-standing tradition of engaging the Scriptures. We teach them faithfully in our pulpits, our classrooms, our small groups, and in our devotional resources. We encourage our people to consistently read the Bible, and we provide resources to help them understand the Bible. Just as we are a healthier church when we in the evangelical tradition retrieve the jewels from the mines of the liturgy, I would commend our brothers and sisters in more liturgical traditions to buttress their efforts with grassroots Scriptural teaching.

It’s not surprising that we would have something to learn from one another.

Let’s learn through the liturgy, and let’s return to the Word.

Together, they can form our hearts well.

Image Credit: Karl Frederickson

Join us in welcoming Kendall Chapman to HNW's staff as the newest member of the Worship Arts Ministry. Kendall came to HNW through Tyler, our new Student Minister. "It was kind of a few random, crazy connections that got us both here." Kendall and Tyler both worked at a summer camp that partners with churches to put on a program for elementary aged kids (they were assigned to HNW this summer!) Through connections from this camp, Tyler was recommended to HNW and during the the interview process Kendalls interest in worship came up. "It was kind of wild because, unbeknownst to either of us, the church was about to make some big moves in the worship department and so my desire to do worship ministry was exciting to hear." During her interview, Kendall was encouraged by the kind of leadership in place here at HNW. She felt the Lord’s hand was bringing both of them here!

Kendall's family lives in the Dallas/Fort Worth area. Her dad grew up in Tomball with his folks who still live there. This is the closest I have ever lived to them, and it has already been really sweet getting time with them. They are really strong believers and always have so much wisdom to pour into me! Kendall was raised in the church and has always had a desire to go into ministry.

We look forward to having Kendall on staff here. Please be sure and show her a warm welcome when you see her around!

by Jeremy Smith

I found myself one morning sitting on a park bench next to the pond near my house with my head in my hands and tears in my eyes trying to understand how life could have gotten this bad. I had been told the worst news about my marriage. I had extreme lack of sleep that was destroying my body. I was chasing fulfillment in higher education. Trying to keep up with being a good dad for my two boys and doing my part to care for my newborn girl. Drowning in work at my job. Stretching my time too thin to help around the house. Sitting on that bench I thought, "What am I supposed to do from here? How does anything get better from this? I'm so broken and I did it to myself.”
 
Then memories started flooding in. Flashback to twenty-five years earlier and growing up I was the kid known as the one who had the heart, but never the innate skill. I never had any money, but I was willing to outwork most. I was never the one to be picked "first." I was the kid who was driven through will to claw his way into being "good enough." In high school, I was told I was a good student, but not the best. This scared me a lot, but I followed my heart and took more advanced courses. I pushed myself into playing sports where I was again told I had heart but no talent. Then I went into band where I practiced for hours on end only to be told again that I had heart, but not the talent to go further.
 
In college I struggled with every class and always felt like the guy who always was asking for help. After finding out my dad had cancer, I was barely able to graduate. I didn't have any job prospects, so I took a job for $5.25 an hour delivering electric bills in the mail. I left there to travel across the country with little more than the clothes on my back to keep the girl that was the light of my life. She stuck by me but told me that something needed to change. I had dreamed of going to graduate school but was told that I had a lot of heart, but not the grades to get in. Failing to find a job and without a better idea, I took the GRE three times to get decent enough scores to be able to sit in the school office and literally beg to be let in on a provisional status.
 
Then, within three months of starting school again, I was mugged and kidnapped at gunpoint. That really messed with me, and it felt like I was thrown back to the starting point. After starting to learn some self-defense, I braved my fear and started myself back out there and was able to get a good job that I worked hard to grow into. I married the girl and started a family but was still trying to be "good enough." I threw myself into education and business trying to fill the void I felt.
 
Back to the park bench, I thought about how I've struggled my whole life, and for what purpose? To be sitting on a park bench in tears as everything was imploding?
 
Two days later, on a Sunday morning, I was taking a shower and recalled some of the lyrics to "I Can Only Imagine." Would I stand in His presence? Would I be able to speak at all? Overwhelmed with the realization that I could do neither, I fell to my knees in tears and finally let everything go. I finally surrendered myself and prayed like I never had before.
 
It was then that I felt hugged as the water of my shower poured over me. I felt loved and it almost felt like a random thought that I should ask more about baptism when we went to church later. I was given a feeling that this was just the beginning of something glorious, but that I would have to be brave for the next part.
 
At church that morning, Pastor Steve felt led to say that someone in the audience needed to be baptized. I again felt an urging telling me to not to be afraid but to be brave and put my hand up. My hand wasn't seen at first, but I felt an urging so strongly to put my hand up again as I whispered to myself "be brave, be brave, be brave." Walking up I was so nervous, but while backstage I heard something in the sermon that was verbatim what I had thought that morning. That’s when I knew I made the right choice. I remembered something I’d read once that anxiety and fear have the same feelings in your body as excitement and anticipation. I then came to realize that all my trials and struggles in school and in life were about God training me how to be brave. He was prepping me for this moment so that I could be brave for the next part. It was all I could do not to tear up with emotion just before I was baptized, but all that fear literally was washed away in that moment.
 
I feel like I have started a new path lit by a new light at my feet that has been guiding me on how to mend my brokenness, because through Jesus, I am “good enough.” My marriage has gotten better. I feel present with my kids, and I approach life through a different lens. My walk with the Lord was the missing piece of the puzzle. I have been reading my Bible and praying every morning to frame my intentions each day to find the courage to continue to be brave and share the greatness of the gift I have been given.

by Bill Darnall

As a volunteer chaplain I have been in a dozen Texas prisons, and I have seen many things and have talked to every type of inmate you can imagine.

The stories of God's salvation are endless as are the many heartbreaking stories of inmate childhoods, and their lives inside and outside of the prison.

One of the many privileges I have as chaplain is to give inmates a chance to make a private phone call to their family - some occur upon the death of a family member, some are a simple "hello," and others, like the one I am about to describe, take place after decades of no contact.

Recently an inmate asked to make a call from my office. He was incarcerated for the murder of his daughter's husband -- his singular, yet tragic, offense. After the arrest, and for the entire length of his trial and incarceration, he never received a letter, a visit, or a phone call.

As you can imagine, the inmate assumed his daughter hated him and would never forgive him for what he had done. However, he was up for parole with the strong possibility of release, and he felt it was his very last chance to reach out.

It is reasonable to understand his extreme anxiety in regards to making this contact. The day of his arrest he had gone to visit his daughter. He knocked, she didn't answer, and because her door was unlocked, he walked inside to find her beaten beyond recognition. Unable to contain his anger, he killed her husband who was sitting on the couch. When the police arrived he went peacefully, admitting his crime.

Fast forward many, many years, and this inmate came to me to make the call. Lots of trepidation and lots of questions: Was this a valid phone number? Would his daughter answer? Would she want to talk with him? We did not know, but I asked for an outside line and made the call.

Miraculously, the daughter answered, I introduced myself and verified who she was, and then asked if she would like to speak to her father on the speaker phone. There was a pause and then she started crying. After a bit she said "Yes, I very much would like to talk with him".

In all of my life I have never heard a conversation so full of love, grace, and forgiveness. You see, over all of these years the inmate had found Jesus inside the prison, and his daughter had found Jesus on the outside. He described to her how God freed him from anger; she told her father how much she'd missed him, loved him, and forgave him.

In the end, she offered her home to her father should God grant his parole.

The beauty of God's work in peoples' lives is breathtaking. Never stop showing love, and never stop telling people how good God is -- no matter what they have done, God loves us all and is an all-powerful Redeemer. What a privilege it is to bear the name of the Lord and experience His power in seemingly impossible circumstances.

Christians believe in the gospel. Simply put, this means God became human in Jesus Christ, that this Jesus lived a sinless life, in his perfection died as an atoning sacrifice for sin, and was resurrected. Christians believe this life to be the vehicle of God’s grace—we are powerless to save ourselves, but God in Christ has reconciled us to himself. We were once enemies and against God. Now, through Jesus, we are reconciled.

Grace is what brings about that reconciliation.

Millions—if not billions—of people alive believe the previous paragraph to be truthful. They confess it freely. But the question many of them have is the next step beyond this confession of the gospel. “I believe the gospel to be true. But what do I do now? HOW do I grow spiritually?” For centuries, churches have recommended corporate worship, Bible study, prayer, and a host of other spiritual practices. But I’ve recently found that when people ask me how they are to grow spiritually, they are actually asking a different question. They are recognizing a universal experience in the Christian life—they are still tempted to sin.

If grace has justified me before God, how does grace change me over a lifetime? God gives His grace freely in Jesus Christ and in Scripture; the Christian journey is one of applying that grace to our brokenness over the course of a lifetime. The application of grace is the way we fight for holiness in life.

How, then, do you apply grace?

1. Identify the lie you believe.

We all believe lies about ourselves. These lies are different for each of us, but belief in lies is universal. The prophet Jeremiah puts it this way: “The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately sick; who can understand it?” (Jeremiah 17:9) You do not need to wonder whether you, too, believe lies about yourself. Instead, you must identify what the lies you believe are.

Our tendency is to focus on the concrete, to focus on our actions. We spot the actions or attitudes in our lives we do not like, and we want to change them. We make plans or resolutions and through sheer willpower, we change behaviors. This sort of behavior modification is good and works in many circumstances. We want to stop biting our nails, so we resolve to do so.

But the darkest places in our heart and actions are not able to be overcome by willpower, for those dark places are not about the actions. The dark places are about motives, attitudes, and loves. And these are the places where the lies reside. This is the place where anger, jealousy, insecurity, lust, lies, and fakery reside. And these sorts of motives and loves feed upon the lies. As Matthew 12:34-35 reminds us, “How can you speak good, when you are evil? For out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks.”

If you want to apply the grace of Jesus to your life, you must be willing to spelunk into these dark places and examine your heart. You will need to ask some difficult questions to find the emotional and spiritual motives behind some of your actions. No easy answers are allowed in the dark places. Your emotions arise from the subject of your thoughts and the way you meditate upon them. You control your emotions and desires within the confines of your mind.

Think, for example, about irrational anger. Where does irrational anger originate? Anger often stems from a desire for control. I become angry when people do not perform to my expectations or when my plans become thwarted. If I have an anger problem, I most likely have a control problem. I believe a lie: I am entitled to a life I control.

What about those of us who desperately desire others to like us? Where does the desire to people-please come from? People-pleasing often originates from a belief that my self-worth originates with what others believe about my achievements, personality, and interactions. If I have a people-pleasing problem, I most likely have a self-worth problem. I believe a lie: My worth is created by what others believe about me.

How about a tendency to be hyper-critical? Why would my default attitude toward a person or experience begin with the negative rather than the positive? Why would I immediately seek to criticize the actions of another individual, particularly when I am unaware of the motives for his/her actions? A critical spirit often originates with a belief that others are criticizing me secretly (or perhaps not so secretly). If I do not point out the flaws in others, then only my flaws will be seen by the world. I believe a lie: I must point out the flaws in others so that people will not focus on my own flaws.

Addictive behavior often falls into the same sorts of motives and deception. I choose to look at pornography, drink excessively, or abuse illegal drugs because I believe that the pleasure I will receive from succumbing to my addiction will supersede all other pleasures available to me. I have convinced myself that peace comes through the thing I am addicted to; the behavior killing me is the one I believe best-suited to satiate my thirst. I believe a lie: The greatest pleasure in my life comes from participating in addictive behavior; I believe my provision and peace comes from something other than God. Or perhaps differently: I believe I have failed so much and so often that change is not possible.

As you’ve noticed by now, surface behavior is rarely the problem itself. Behaviors are often symptoms of something deeper within our hearts. We believe things about others, ourselves, the world, or God, and we then act upon those deeply held beliefs. Often those beliefs are so deeply rooted within our personality or our past that we cannot even immediately identify them. As a lifelong struggler of insecurity and people pleasing, it took multiple conversations with my wife and friends—along with extended time in prayer and reflection—to begin to notice the lies beneath my behaviors. Rooting out the lies we believe can often be the most difficult part of the process, for it often requires us to visit emotional and spiritual wounds we would prefer to forget or ignore.

“The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately sick; who can understand it?”—Jeremiah 17:9

2. Find the grace-centered truth of Scripture.

The aforementioned spiritual lies are false thoughts taking up residence within our current belief structures. These false thoughts are causing us to behave in ways we know are in opposition to Kingdom living. In order to fight the lies, we must replace the false thoughts with the truth. The written source of truth for the Kingdom life is found in the Bible, particularly in the New Testament. In order to change our life, we must find the truth of Scripture and allow it to combat the lies. Hebrews 4:12 describes the Scripture as a sword, able to divide between soul and spirit. The truth found within the pages of the Bible must become the weapon you use. These lies are not new; humanity has been recycling the same lies for millenia.

To battle lies with the truth, we need to know the themes of Scripture. Because the lies we tell ourselves are not always about the outward symptom (drugs, pornography, etc.) but instead about heart motivations, we must ensure we are allowing the Word of God to speak to the lie itself, not simply the symptom. In the earlier example of anger, we noted a possible belief at the root of this problem: I believe I am entitled to a life I control. In order to combat this belief, I must find what the Bible says regarding control. And there I can find plenty:

Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble. (Matthew 6:24)

In his hand is the life of every living thing and the breath of all mankind.—Job 12:10

And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.—Romans 8:28

Our God is in the heavens; he does all that he pleases.—Psalm 115:3

As for you, you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good, to bring it about that many people should be kept alive, as they are today.—Genesis 50:20

Repeatedly, Scripture testifies that the Lord is sovereign over all of creation. While I am allowed great freedom to act within the world, the Bible clearly states that everything is seen by His gracious eye and everything passes through His hand. If my anger stems from a desire to control, these (and many other) verses are essential. The lie? I am entitled to a life I control. The truth? God is in control and sovereign over my life.

This exercise is applicable for every lie in my life. When I believe I need the approval of others to find my self-worth, I look through Scripture and see verses like Ephesians 1:5: “In love he predestined us for adoption as sons through Jesus Christ, according to the purpose of his will.” The lie of others-approval is replaced with the truth that I have been adopted as a child of God into the Kingdom. I need no other human approval because I have been approved by God. If my issue is hyper-criticism, I find Matthew 7:1-2, “Judge not, that you be not judged. For with the judgment you pronounce you will be judged, and with the measure yo use it will be measured to you.” If the lie is one of pleasure found in addictive behavior, I discover Colossians 3:24, “from the Lord you will receive the inheritance as your reward. You are serving the Lord Christ,” or Deuteronomy 10:9, “The Lord is their inheritance.”

Once you have identified the lie you believe, finding the truth of Scripture becomes a quest. You will most likely be able to discover a few verses quickly using an Internet search, a concordance, or by consulting the study helps at the back of your Bible. But let me counsel you to not only settle on the easily discovered Scriptures; instead dive into the Bible every single day. Read the New Testament repeatedly—like any great text, it takes multiple readings to grasp its depth. Unlike other great texts, after a dozen readings you will still discover new insights. In fact, the more you read, the more the truth of God will be supplanting the lies within your mind. If you keep a running list of Scriptures with the truth that combats your resident lie, you will soon find you have an extensive arsenal of weaponry. Even further—and perhaps more important—the Bible is best understood when it is read and interpreted communally. You need to read the Scripture with other believers so that you can understand it. Deuteronomy 6 exhorted parents to teach their children in this way—talking about the Scripture as they journeyed together. If you read Scripture communally, allowing it to address the lies present in your life, you will quickly find the truth of Proverbs 27:17 coming to pass: “As iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another.”

“For the word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing to the division of soul and of spirit.”—Hebrews 4:12

3. Apply the grace of Jesus.

Once you have stocked your arsenal with weaponry, you are now prepared for your fight.
And there will be a fight.

When temptation comes, you will be better-equipped to recognize it for what it is—the seduction to believe and act upon a lie. You will recognize your anger as the lie of control; you will know your desire for people-pleasing is actually your misguided understanding of self-worth.

And in the moment of decision, you must act decisively—you must choose to act upon the truth instead of the lie. This is a tension, to be sure. You are not justified by your action; you are justified by grace. But in that justified state, you are now freed to act upon grace as led by the Spirit. The Spirit’s leadership is found within the truths of Scripture. Therefore, you must remember the truths of Scripture you have amassed and act upon them. The gospel of grace means that you have been declared righteous in Christ, but it also means your will is free to act either in sin or in rebellion. By choosing to act upon the truth of Scripture rather than the lies of deception, I am actively giving life to the grace purchased at the cross. Acting upon Scripture instead of self-created lies is the practical application of the purchased grace of Jesus.

God is ultimately in control (Scripture), not me (lie), so I can resist anger.

God declares me to be a child of the King (Scripture), not others (lie), so I can resist the need to unnecessarily people-please.

God alone is the judge (Scripture), not me (lie), so I am not required to immediately and freely criticize the actions of others.

God is the ultimate pleasure and joy in life (Scripture), not my addictive behavior (lie), so I am free to enjoy Him.

Contemporary neurology affirms what you instinctively know to be true: While possible, this will be difficult. Years of acquiescing to spiritual lies create neural superhighways which feel like second nature. To choose to act upon the truth of Scripture will be difficult, because it will be the hacking of a neural path through the thick underbrush of amassed past decisions. In fact, current neurology explains that to create new neural pathways can literally be painful, as it is the indication of new neural growth. In spite of the pain, the decision to act upon the truth is the step toward freedom. You are creating new thought patterns within your mind; you are participating in the inception of holiness.

This process is painful because it is difficult. This process is painful because it is against our nature. We tend to believe we do not have the strength to say no to the lies. But God has put Christ within us. And God has promised He “will meet all your needs according to the riches of his glory in Christ Jesus” (Phil 4:19). Every need—even the need for the power to say no—is met in the glory of Jesus. And God has placed that glory, that power, within you. It is not your power, but it is His power living inside. He is the hope of glory—the hope of a life lived in the reflection of Jesus(Col. 1:27). The only way we have hope in experiencing glory is in Christ—in his power acting out in our lives.

“Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind.”—Romans 12:2

4. Repeat. For life.

The temptations will always come, but the more you choose to act upon the grace of Jesus imparted within Scripture, the more your machete-hacked neural path becomes a well-worn road. Eventually, the decision for holiness becomes its own superhighway. Like any behavior, the new habit of holiness will eventually take hold, and the truth will much more naturally supplant the lie.
You will fail and fall down some days. You will fall prey to old temptations and use the old pathways. But, on those days, do not believe the lie that you are a failure. Instead, embrace the truth of the gospel. Remember 2 Corinthians 12:9: “ ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.” In your weakness, God continues to give grace, and he never ceases to do so. The well of Jesus’ love does not run dry.

Spiritual maturity is the journey of a lifetime, and it is a journey that we never complete until the day we “will be like him, for we will see him as he is.” (1 John 3:2) Philippians 2:12 tells believers to “work out your salvation.” Much like our contemporary use of “working out,” the application of grace is an exercise or a solving of spiritual issues. It is breaking old patterns of thoughts and behaviors through the process of grace. It is what Jesus referred to when he commanded his disciples to take up their cross each day. (Luke 9:23) Nevertheless, walking with Christ daily is a source of incredible peace and joy—it is the greatest delight of the heart. So find the lies you believe; replace them with the truth of Scripture; and act upon the grace purchased at the cross.

 This is the path of sanctification, the path of holiness.

This is the Kingdom life—the truth of Jesus, made alive in us. As Paul wrote in Galatians 2: “It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me!”

May you apply the grace of God each day in your journey to know Him alive in you.

Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come.—2 Corinthians 5:17

Author: Steve Bezner
For more writings and other posts go to SteveBezner.com

Cassi Odom is a native Houstonian and was raised by parents who actively volunteered in children’s ministry. She fell in love with Jesus at a young age and felt a strong desire to tell other kids about her Savior. Cassi grew up serving in children’s ministry. After many years of volunteering and several summer internships, she accepted a part-time position with a church in Houston while she finished her senior year of college at Texas A&M University. Cassi has served in ministry for the past 15 years and has also partnered with schools to extend a positive message to kids outside of weekly church gatherings.

Cassi desires for every child to have an opportunity to fall in love with Jesus at a young age. She and her husband, Dustin (aka “Captain D”), fell in love while serving together in children’s ministry loading a trailer, setting up kids’ church, and teaching God’s Word. They spend their free time pouring out their lives to build relationships with kids and point them to Jesus. They have two precious little girls who remind them everyday how important it is to come to Jesus for new mercy, grace and strength.

Cassi is excited to now be part of the Houston Northwest Church family. Please take time in the coming weeks to stop by the kids' area to extend a warm HNW welcome to Cassi and her family!