When Prayer is Not Enough…

“Stop praying and DO something!”

“I’m sick of thoughts and prayers…it’s time for action.”

“Prayer doesn’t work!”

Photo by Markus Spiske on Pexels.com

What happens when your prayers don’t seem to make any difference? People around you complain that you are passive, even apathetic about critical needs. “People are dying!” “People are suffering, and you want to stop and pray?!”

YES! Buy why do I continue to advocate for prayer in the face of overwhelming injustice and evil? Shouldn’t I be talking about action? Shouldn’t I be posting plans to end injustice or poverty or war? Shouldn’t I be willing to say that sometimes, prayer just isn’t enough?

Well, firstly, I believe that Prayer is far more powerful than most people know. Prayer IS enough, because GOD IS ENOUGH! I can’t stop gun violence, or human trafficking, or an epidemic. I can’t– not with all the resources in the world; not with all the action I can muster; not with any effort or plan or army of willing human helpers. And neither can anyone else. I can march in protest, I can write and call and badger legislators to change laws or enforce the laws we already have. Such actions might make me feel better– they might even have some immediate effect. But they won’t “fix” the continuing and underlying problem of Sin. Only God can do that, and He WILL do it. He may choose to work through human agency to right some wrongs or change the immediate future, but our world is broken, and God’s ultimate plan is bigger than just a convenient patch for Sin’s consequences.

Photo by Pavel Danilyuk on Pexels.com

However, I will concede that sometimes prayer, by itself, is not nearly “enough.” Prayer must be paired with Faith. I know many people who say that prayer “doesn’t work,” not because they didn’t pray, or weren’t sincere in their desire or their wish for God to act on their behalf, but because they believe in their desire– their wish or their plan– more than they believe in God’s goodness or His ability to bring good out of whatever struggle we are facing.

This is not a simple concept– that God is eternally good even in the midst of evil and horror– it can be painful beyond words. God may choose to allow the sin of drunk driving to take the life of an innocent person in our family, or leave us permanently paralyzed. Or He may allow war to strip us of all that we own– our home and our freedom. How can we possibly view such circumstances as “good?” Why does God allow for violence and injustice? Why does He allow it to continue– seemingly unabated and unchecked? How can God call Himself “Good” while letting evil touch our lives and the lives of millions innocent people? Praying — and continuing to pray– in such circumstances seems like a mockery of our pain and grief. It seems like God is deaf to our cries– indifferent, or even watching smugly from a distance. Why pray to such a God?

But IS this what God is really like? And why do we believe the worst about Him, rather than trust that His wisdom and Love are actually greater than what we can comprehend or experience in the present? Why do we blame God for the evil we see in others? Why do we ignore our own actions or inaction that often contribute to our situation? Why do we believe that God “owes” us a life without sorrow and pain– even as we see others suffering the consequences of sin– sometimes because of our failures? Why do we insist that God always act in accordance with OUR desires, when we often will not act in accordance with His? Why do we “test” God with prayers in our times of trouble, when we will not trouble Him with our prayers in times of peace and plenty? If anyone should have led a life without sorrow or pain, it should have been Jesus. Jesus prayed all the time– He even taught others how to pray (Matthew 6:9-15). He was completely obedient to His Father. Yet God’s own Son faced heartbreak, betrayal, and a painful, unjust death on the Cross. He wept over the death of a close friend– a death He Himself could have prevented (and later reversed)! (John 11) He was in such deep distress in the Garden of Gethsemane that He sweat blood! (Luke 22:44) God’s plan is not for us to live a life free of trouble, but a life of victory OVER despair and doubt!

Seeking “more” than prayer is often seeking “more” than God–as if we can do better on our own. As though we can out-love, out-give, out-do, and over-power the God of creation;the God of the Cross, and the God of the Resurrection and the Life. Deriding prayer is deriding the God to whom we pray– we minimize His power and His compassion while inflating our own. If God doesn’t exist, one might argue that it doesn’t matter– but then, why waste time deriding what doesn’t exist?! Prayer matters because God DOES exist, and because God matters Trusting God means being willing to wait and accept His will; even if we don’t get the answer we want. God’s ways are not our ways, but that doesn’t mean they are inferior or ineffective. God will not “undo” our circumstances, but He will help us through our circumstances. He won’t take away our grief. But He will shape it into something with purpose– if we let Him.

Finally, there are times when prayer must be paired with action. It IS enough to pray for God to act. But when God prompts US to act, and we do not, our prayers are empty words. Faith may lead us to wait, but it won’t lead us to sit idly by when we have the opportunity to help. Faith may lead me to keep taking the next step– even when I can’t see the way forward. Faith may lead me to let go of a dream I thought would be “enough.” It may lead me into the valley of the shadow of death– in my own life, or on behalf of someone else. I can’t take away someone’s grief at the loss of a child– but I can share in it. I can listen and offer friendship, rather than a quick platitude and a few empty words. I can continue to be there when others fade away. I can’t undo the horrors of war– but I can help care for refugees, and I can work to build peace in my neighborhood, even as I pray. I can take the next step in making someone else’s burden just a little lighter, and making the world a little brighter wherever God gives me the chance. And prayer is one way I can focus on the source of strength, wisdom, and compassion to allow me to do my part better.

Photo by Liza Summer on Pexels.com

The next time you hear someone saying that prayer is “not enough,” remember that no human effort will ever be “enough” to do what only God can do! But prayer taps into the power and grace that is “sufficient” for all our greatest needs.

It Came Without Ribbons…

In the Dr. Seuss classic, “How the Grinch Stole Christmas!,” the bitter and devious Grinch tries to “steal” Christmas from the village of Whoville. He steals all the things the Whos of the village seem to need in order to celebrate a holiday he hates. He hates their gift exchanges, their feasting, their singing, and their general happiness, all of which serve to remind him of his own loneliness and gloom.

With mounting glee, the Grinch proceeds to pile up his hoard of goodies– presents, decorations, food, anything that could serve to make the holiday cheery and bright. He loads up all his stolen loot and takes it to the top of a mountain, where he plans to dump it. But first, he stops to savor the shock and pain he expects to hear as the Whos discover that their holiday has been ruined. He waits in the cold of a clear dawn to hear wailing and lamenting, but the sound he hears instead is singing…the Whos have come together to sing a hymn of gratitude and peace. There is no lamenting; there is no distress. Instead there is a peaceful acceptance that the new day has brought joy and goodwill that has nothing to do with all the trappings of celebration.

He hadn’t stopped Christmas from coming. It came!
Somehow or other it came just the same.
And the Grinch, with his Grinch-feet ice cold in the snow,
Stood puzzling and puzzling, how could it be so?
It came without ribbons. It came without tags.
It came without packages, boxes or bags.
And he puzzled and puzzled ’till his puzzler was sore.
Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn’t before.
What if Christmas, he thought, doesn’t come from a store.
What if Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more.

How the Grinch Stole Christmas!–Dr. Seuss
Photo by Susanne Jutzeler on Pexels.com

The first Christmas came without any of the festive trappings we’ve added over the years. There were no groups of cheery carolers; no jingle bells and tinsel; no greeting cards or candy canes. Jesus came in the dead of night, in the midst of chaos and terror, as people were groaning under the oppression of an invading empire, being forced to travel long distances to be counted and taxed by their oppressors. There were no Christmas parties, no brightly decorated trees, no stockings filled with treats, no cookies and cocoa on a cold night. The gifts would come later– and they would be followed by death threats and exile! But Jesus came! He came just the same!

Photo by Jeswin Thomas on Pexels.com

This year, Christmas will come– with or without ribbons or tags. Christmas will come to those who are homeless, and those who are lonely in palaces and mansions. Christmas will come in spite of efforts to erase the holiday from our culture. It will come just like the dawn of each new day– quiet in its wonder and glorious in its simplicity. Christmas doesn’t come wrapped in shiny paper or announced with blaring horns and neon lights. Christmas comes just as Christ came so many years ago–wrapped in rags, laid in a straw bed on a cold, dark night; announced to simple people going about their business, signaled by a single star ignored by most, wondered at by others. Christmas will seep into the hearts and eyes of those with child-like faith and willing to sing when things are darkest.

God chooses to come in simplicity– He creeps like the dawning day; He sighs like a gentle breeze; He comes as a harmless infant, or a wandering teacher and healer. And when our Christmas Day comes without ribbons and boxes or feasting and lights– it will come just the same. Christ will enter darkened hotel rooms and alleys, He will sit beside hospital beds and in makeshift refugee shelters. He will sneak into homes where Christians huddle in secret, and He will knock gently on the doors of the lonely and the lost. Because Christmas DOESN’T come from a store. It doesn’t come from our bounty and our glittering decorations. It comes from the heart– the heart of God, who SO loved the world, that He came! And He will come this year, just the same!

Photo by Josh Willink on Pexels.com

Who Do I Think I Am?

(This post was originally published in March of 2021. I am re-posting it.)

I was struck the other day by the parable of Lazarus and the Rich Man (Luke 16: 19-31). I’ve heard sermons and talks and done Bible studies on this passage, and the focus is always on the rich man. In life, he did nothing to help the poor beggar who was literally on his doorstep. In death, he ends up in torment, and seeing Father Abraham with Lazarus in Heaven, he tries to strike a bargain with Abraham to ease his own tormented soul.

Photo by sergio omassi on Pexels.com

But I was struck by several things I had never considered:

  • Jesus named Lazarus, but not the Rich Man. This is a parable– a metaphorical story– so Jesus did not need to have specific names for any of the characters. He often told such stories with no names. This one contains a specific person, Lazarus, and very specific details about his earthly life. He was not just a beggar, but a beggar covered with sores and starving. Jesus even related that the “dogs came and licked his sores” (v.21). And Jesus makes it clear that the rich man recognized and knew Lazarus by name. Yet he had done nothing to help Lazarus when he had the chance. We never hear in the story whether or not Lazarus was ever cured or helped; we don’t know if he had been a wealthy or prominent man at one time, of if he had always been a diseased beggar. The point is that Jesus, and Abraham, and the rich man all KNEW Lazarus. He mattered enough to call by name. The Rich Man in this story also had a name. He probably was well-known in the town or city where the story took place. And we know that he had five brothers who were likely well-known and highly respected. But NONE of them are named in the story. Only Lazarus.
  • The Rich Man looks up into Heaven. He can see and recognize Lazarus and Father Abraham. But he never looks for, sees, talks to, or wonders about the Heavenly Father. He never asks for comfort from God– he doesn’t even ask a favor of the Patriarch– he only considers that someone like Lazarus should be made to help him and/or his brothers.
Photo by Andrea Piacquadio on Pexels.com
  • Abraham explains that Lazarus cannot and will not be allowed to do as the Rich Man requests– but the parable does not tell us that Lazarus can either see the Rich Man or hear his requests, nor does it say that Lazarus is unwilling to help.
  • Jesus tells this story in a straightforward manner, even though it is a Parable and has hidden meanings. The Rich Man wants help in his hour of torment, even though he was unwilling to help others in their need. But he isn’t without feeling or pity– he loves his brothers enough to try to warn them. Jesus could have used this parable to say much more about Social Justice, and the plight of the poor and the wealthy. He could have said much more about greed or apathy. He could have pressed the point about loving one’s neighbor. He did NOT make some of the connections we add to this story. We often assume that the Rich Man is in hell only because he did not help Lazarus during his lifetime, and that Lazarus is in Heaven solely because he was oppressed and afflicted in life. But is that really what Jesus says?
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

What struck me the most about this story is that I always look at it as an outsider. I don’t relate with either of these characters. Of course I don’t want to think that I am cold and selfish like the Rich Man in this story, but neither do I think I am Lazarus. So who do I think I am when I read this parable? Do I pat myself on the back for sending a check to a charity a couple of times a year, or speaking up for the poor or marginalized in my community? Do I indignantly point out all the “others” who are not doing their part to help? Do I see myself, not as a poor diseased beggar, but as someone who has been “oppressed” by nameless, faceless rich people– someone who deserves to be rescued and comforted while “they” suffer through eternity?

Photo by Charles Nunes on Pexels.com

I don’t have any answers as to how I “should” see myself (or others) in this parable. But I think Jesus wants us to grapple with some of the realities it presents:

  • Our world is filled with situations like that of Lazarus and the Rich Man–situations of injustice, struggle, disease, poverty, inequality, suffering, and luxury. And while it is clear that we should do what we can to help others, and to bring justice and mercy, and to reach out and connect with our neighbors in love, it is also clear that such situations are not for us to make blanket judgments. I know many who see poverty as a judgment– those who are poor are lazy or unworthy. And I know others who see luxury and wealth as a judgment–those who are wealthy are greedy and selfish and unworthy. God will not judge us by our circumstances or the injustices done against us. He WILL judge us by our response to Him– when we look toward Heaven, do we see Him, or do we see the place we think we deserve to be?
  • Our ultimate situation has very little to do with our earthly circumstances. Are we sick, poor, suffering, grieving, or in pain? God is aware, and He offers eternal comfort. We can endure and hope because we know that this is not all there is to life. Are we blessed with comfort and ease right now? We should not take our circumstances for granted, but be willing to share in our abundance, knowing that our future is sure, and that God will care for our needs as we care for others. But wealth or poverty, status or shameful circumstances, do not predict our eternal destiny.
Photo by ding lei on Pexels.com
  • God sees us! He sees our circumstances, and He cares! He sees our heart and our motives. He knows our every thought.
  • We need to look with God’s eyes. The Rich Man in this story thought he was important– in life and even in the afterlife. He thought Lazarus was worthy only to serve him or stay out of his way as he enjoyed life’s luxuries. But he also thought he was more important than Heaven! Sitting in eternal torment, he was not humbled or repentant– he was still trying to see the world through his own self-importance. Lazarus may have spent his life thinking that he was NOT important– a beggar, alone, forgotten, and unwanted. But God knew his name and saw his suffering. Lazarus could have been bitter, cursing God for his circumstances, or spending his days trying to steal or take revenge on the Rich Man.
  • I need to look with God’s eyes, not only at who I am in relation to God and others, but at OTHERS in relation to God and to me. I may see someone like the Rich Man– selfish, pompous, self-important– and dismiss them as unlovable and unworthy of mercy or grace. But God sees someone He created; someone who is needy and lost– someone He loves enough to die for. I may see someone like Lazarus–hurting and forgotten– and think they are a lost cause or fear that they will prove to be “undeserving” of my help. But God sees someone He created; someone He aches with; someone He loves enough to die for!

For Righteousness’ Sake

Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake,
For theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Matthew 5:10 (NKJV)
Photo by Meruyert Gonullu on Pexels.com

Yesterday was Easter (in parts of the world)–the celebration of Christ’s resurrection and victory over Sin and Death. We have much to celebrate. But we also have a mission. We have the assurance of eternity in Heaven, but in THIS world, Jesus warned us, “you will have trouble.” (John 16:33). We will be misunderstood, mocked, and persecuted. We will have to face the temporary consequences of living in a fallen world– anger, greed, abuse, violence, betrayal–even bad weather and natural disasters!

In giving the Beatitudes, Jesus turned common expectations upside-down. Blessed are the poor in spirit; blessed are the meek; blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake… We don’t consider poverty, powerlessness, suffering and persecution blessings to be desired. Yet Jesus, the One we follow, gladly endured all of these for our sake! Notice that the “blessing” is the same here as in the first of the Beatitudes– “for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” The Kingdom of Heaven is not reserved for those who are victorious in their own power or through force of will or extraordinary effort. But it is reserved for those who persevere in the face of evil–those who lean, and those who rest, and those who stand IN THE POWER of God.

Notice, too, that we are blessed if we are persecuted “for righteousness’ sake.” There is no blessing for suffering due to our own stubbornness or foolishness. There is no blessing for those who are persecuted for their own pride and judgmental nature and unforgiveness toward themselves or others. (see 1 Peter 3) https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=1+Peter+3%3A8-17&version=CEV

Photo by MART PRODUCTION on Pexels.com

We live in a culture that celebrates “victimhood.” Those who suffer injustice– even perceived of implied injustice–are considered to have a special status. Those who claim to have been offended or hurt by individuals or groups often demand recognition for their “bravery” or retribution for their suffering. This happens even among certain Christians, who claim to be “persecuted,” when they are merely suffering the consequences of their own hubris and self-righteous posturing. This is a monstrous injustice to fellow Christians who are truly suffering persecution “for righteousness’ sake.”

Photo by Cameron Casey on Pexels.com

My prayer today is that I will emulate the example of Christ– that I will serve, humbly, willingly, sacrificially, enduring any persecution that comes as a result, and lifting up fellow Christians who are suffering, as well as their persecutors! For righteousness’ sake– for the sake of the Kingdom of Heaven.

Blessed Are the Poor In Spirit

I want to spend some time this month exploring the Beatitudes and how they relate to our prayer life. Today I want to look at Matthew 5:3: “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of Heaven.”

How do I approach God’s throne of Grace? Do I come with a list of what I want, and what I’ve accomplished for God? Do I come reluctantly, grudgingly, holding back some part of who I am or who I have been? Do I come flaunting my self-righteousness? Or do I come empty of all but my desire to be in the Presence of my Maker?

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Many people have interpreted (and misinterpreted) this phrase. Jesus does not insist that we be financially destitute, or drained of all enthusiasm or emotion. But He does require that we come recognizing our need of Him. We may not be physically needy in the moment– we may be well-fed, comfortable, or even wealthy by human standards. But we are all in need of God’s presence and His provision. On my own, I may believe that I have earned all that I seem to possess, but I cannot supply the air that I breathe, or guarantee that my health will remain perfect, or that I will be able to keep what I think I own, or force others to accept or respect me. “Man supposes, but God disposes” is an old phrase, but an accurate one.

Photo by cottonbro on Pexels.com

When I approach God in prayer, no matter how rich or poor I may seem, I am dependent on God for everything. And this is true for every one of us. So I don’t approach God as someone “needier” or “less needy” than my neighbor. And I don’t approach God with any power to bargain or demand, or even to request– except that God has invited me and sought me out in His Love and Mercy!

And this is the rest of the Beatitude– “for theirs is the kingdom of Heaven.” God has opened up Heaven and invited me to walk with Him, to learn from Him, to receive His blessings, and to live with Him throughout eternity. His riches! His Glory! His Presence! Every time I pray, I trade my poverty for God’s bounty. I trade my confession for His forgiveness. I trade my helplessness for His Wisdom and Power to triumph over adversity and confusion, grief and doubt, sickness and lack.

It is when I come to Christ believing that I possess or control all that I suppose to be “mine,” that I lose the Blessing of His sufficiency and His perfection.

“Thank you, God of Mercy, and Ruler of All, for the privilege of coming to you. I come empty and spent–show me where I am holding on to something less than You, or trying to claim Your wealth as my own. Teach me to rest in the sufficiency of Your kingdom, even as I continue to serve you here on earth.”

When Christmas Wasn’t Merry

I know several people who had a very Merry Christmas this year. Some of them flew to exotic locations and spent Christmas on the beach, or in a big city with lights and dozens of family members. Some of them spent a cozy Christmas in a cabin with roaring fires and glittering snow-covered trees, eating sumptuous meals and unwrapping expensive gifts.

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

But most of the people I know spent a Christmas that wasn’t “post-card” perfect. Some of them were alone in a small apartment with no presents and no heat. Some were working at a job they hate because they had no other option. Some were grieving loved ones lost in the past months. Some of them are facing economic mountains– debt, job loss, medical bills or taxes they cannot pay, no money for rent or groceries… Some are battling cancer or alcoholism, anger, or fear. Some are estranged from their families, or separated from loved ones because of COVID, or deployment, or divorce. And some are facing persecution, starvation, homelessness, disease, or war.

Photo by Levent on Pexels.com

Christmas comes, whatever our circumstances– and so does the Christ Child. Jesus didn’t come to the earth to bring us all “better” circumstances or worry-free holidays, but to deliver us from eternal death, and equip us to endure the circumstances we face in life. Jesus himself came in chaotic and stressful circumstances, and He came, knowing that He would face rejection, hatred, injustice, and death on a cross.

Photo by Alem Su00e1nchez on Pexels.com

There are millions of people who spent a “Merry” Christmas and missed the whole point. Some of us indulged in a gift-giving frenzy that left others in the cold. Some of us allowed envy, fear, greed, or bitterness to color our Christmas. In the process, many of us lost sight of the true gifts of Christmas– Peace, Joy, and Goodwill. In fact, “His divine power has given us EVERYTHING we need for a godly life through our knowledge of Him who called us by His own glory and goodness.” (2 Peter 1:3)

And these gifts are not temporary, like earthly Christmas gifts. They are always available, and they never break, expire, or grow dim. My prayer for this year(and the year to come) is that we all may find–and share!– these eternal and astounding gifts, this “inheritance that can never perish, spoil, or fade…kept in heaven for you” (1 Peter 1:4)

Photo by Porapak Apichodilok on Pexels.com

Christmas Day may not always be merry in this life, but because of Christmas we can face an eternity that will never disappoint, and we have a living Hope that can carry us through even the darkest hours!

When God Gives You Lemons…

There is a saying–“If life gives you lemons, make lemonade!” In other words, if your life circumstances are “sour,” you should look for ways to make your circumstances into something sweeter.

Often, it seems like God gives us lemons–even when we pray and do what we know is “right,” it seems like our circumstances get no better. In fact, sometimes, they get annoyingly, frustratingly worse. But God does not abandon us; He doesn’t sit back and laugh at our frustration, or leave us to flounder in chaos with no hope. Sometimes, our circumstances are opportunities for God to make lemonade.

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

When God rescued Israel from slavery in Egypt, He did not lead them directly to the Promised Land. Instead, He led them through the wilderness and to the shores of the Red Sea. There, they were trapped by the Egyptian army, complete with horses and chariots and trained warriors. But God’s plans were bigger than the armies of Egypt, and bigger than the sea. God made a path of escape through the sea, and used the very same sea to drown the enemy!

Photo by Polina Zimmerman on Pexels.com

What a miracle! But it wasn’t long before the people began complaining about “lemons” from God–the complained about the food, the journey, the scenery, and their leader, Moses. Even when God did many more miracles– bread from Heaven, meat from the sky, water from the rock, divine intervention in battles– the Israelites were still complaining about all the “lemons” in their life, and longing to go back to Egypt and slavery!

Photo by Juan Pablo Serrano Arenas on Pexels.com

There are seasons in life when it seems like God is giving us lemons–a job loss, an unexpected illness, a wayward daughter, a house fire, civil unrest… Struggles and pain will come into our lives; we should not pretend otherwise, or seek to deny them when they come. And God does not expect us to “make lemonade” all on our own. But He may allow us to be squeezed a bit; He may send the lemons today, and sugar next Monday. He may not give us a fancy carafe and cute little teacups. But He will give us all we need to make lemonade if we are prepared for the task. And usually, He will give us more than enough to set up a lemonade stand and serve others!

Photo by PhotoMIX Company on Pexels.com

Several years ago (2005), I had the opportunity to visit a settlement of Haitian refugees in the Dominican Republic. Multiple mission groups had banded together to provide basic needs– shelter, basic medical services, toilets and showers, etc. Service teams from Canada and the U.S. had come in to build two-room houses and set up a small clinic and school. Donations had come in– clothing, bedding, toothbrushes… Thousands of Haitians had been displaced after a bad hurricane season and massive flooding, and this refugee camp was home to nearly 150 families. Even with the donations, there were shortages– there was running water, but it wasn’t potable. There was rice, but few vegetables and very little meat. Aspirin and antibiotics were rationed, and most of the children were thin, and sad, half-clothed in rags and bare-foot.

Photo by Tamba Budiarsana on Pexels.com

In the midst of all this, there was a miraculous donation– of flip-flops! Literally thousands of pairs of flip-flops–brand new overruns: different sizes, but all the same colors and style–more than enough for every person to have a pair. God had given the people of this settlement a LOT of lemons. Shoes were well and good, but the people needed water… The shoes were distributed– there were even a few left over. But about a week later, it was observed that most of the people were still walking around bare-footed. What had happened to the donated flip-flops? Were the people ungrateful? Were they too proud to use the new shoes? Too fearful?

Photo by Leonardo Rossatti on Pexels.com

Not at all! These amazing people trusted that God could help them turn lemons into lemonade. They loaded the flip-flops into large bags, carried them (bare-footed) on their backs into town (the nearest town was nearly 10 miles away, but it was on the coast and attracted many tourists), pooled what little money they had to rent a booth at the beach, and SOLD the flip-flops. The money they made from the sale of the flip-flops purchased five-gallon jugs of drinking water. The jugs were carried back from town and shared among the members of this growing community. As they continued to sell the donated flip-flops, they purchased other small items– packets of laundry detergent, fly swatters, plastic dishes and cups–and established a small colmado (local store) within their own community. When I was able to visit again a couple of years later, the refugee camp was a thriving community– many of the houses had been painted, and had gardens and picket fences, on which clothes were drying in the sun. And while some children were still running in bare feet, many others had shoes. Some of the shoes were ragged and some were mismatched, but the children were happy and healthy. In the middle of the community, there was a beautiful church. Inside, there was a woman sweeping and singing songs of praise.

I share this story because it both encourages me and shames me. In this season of “lemons”– COVID-19 and violent unrest in my country– I have a choice. I can complain like the children of Israel. I can pray for God to take away the lemons; I can beg for Him to send me lemonade. Or I can look around for opportunities to use what He has provided– graciously provided– and sing His praises as I make lemonade.

Photo by Luis Quintero on Pexels.com

God, grant me the eyes to see your provision amid whatever challenges I face today. THANK YOU for the lemons you have given me today, and, when I am squeezed, help me to become a sweet and refreshing reminder to others of YOUR Grace and Joy.

Too Much of a Good Thing

My late uncle came to know Christ– really know Christ– later in his life.  He and my aunt spent their final years doing advanced Bible studies by correspondence course– hour after hour studying Hebrew and Greek, filling out paperwork, sending it in, and waiting for the next lesson (this was before the explosion of online classes and internet shortcuts).

When Uncle Fred was diagnosed with ALS (Lou Gehrig’s disease), and he knew his time on earth was drawing to a close, he planned his funeral service, and it was incredible– uplifting, encouraging, hopeful!  This from a man who, earlier in life, had had anger issues, numerous issues with money, and serious doubts about God.  One of his favorite scripture passages came from Proverbs, and it surprised me a bit.  It wasn’t about promise or hope or power or expectation.  Instead, it was about discipline and correction and balance.

Proverbs 30:7-9 New International Version (NIV)

7 “Two things I ask of you, Lord;
do not refuse me before I die:
8 Keep falsehood and lies far from me;
give me neither poverty nor riches,
but give me only my daily bread.
9 Otherwise, I may have too much and disown you
and say, ‘Who is the Lord?’
Or I may become poor and steal,
and so dishonor the name of my God.

These verses offer wisdom, but the kind of wisdom most of us shun.  We’re happy enough to ask the first part– “Keep falsehood and lies far from me”–Yes, please.  I detest when others lie to my face, or keep information from me.  Except that’s not all that is involved here.  “Keep falsehood and lies far from me”– including far from my own mouth!  Teach me to be honest and trustworthy. even when a “white” lie or a fib would make things so much easier for me…Teach me to seek out, not the juiciest headline or the news story that glories in scandal and derision, but the truth, even if it convicts me!

walk human trafficking
Photo by Tookapic on Pexels.com

The second phrase is not too bad– “Give me neither poverty nor riches”– OK, I don’t want to be poor, and it’s probably not good for me to be super wealthy.  I’ll just be a comfortable middle-class sort of person.  Except the last phrase catches us– “But give me ONLY my daily bread.”  Excuse me?  I don’t know about some of you who may be reading this, but I don’t want ONLY my daily bread.  What about all those verses that say we can ask for ANYTHING in Jesus’ name and he will do it!?  What about being prepared in and out of season–what about savings accounts and retirement plans and having extra to give to those in need?  What about a cozy lake cottage or a really nice vacation?  Don’t I deserve to treat myself?  Haven’t I earned a few creature comforts?  I give to charity, and I volunteer at church.

view of tourist resort
Photo by Thorsten technoman on Pexels.com

The next verse gives the reason, and also the test.  “Otherwise, I may have too much and disown you and say, ‘Who is the Lord?’ Or I may become poor and steal, and so dishonor the name of my God.”  It’s tempting at this point to brush off the warning.  After all, I haven’t disowned God, have I?  I still go to church and write about prayer.  What more does God want of me…Who is God to ask more of me?  Who is the Lord to tell me what I can’t have…We don’t start out denying or disowning God, but we begin to question his ways, and our own obedience.  Similarly, we don’t think we are stealing or dishonoring God’s name, but how many of us have tried to “beat the system” to get ahead instead of turning to God or the church for help?  Tax breaks that are questionable, lying (see verse 8a again…) about our income to qualify for federal programs or grants, “borrowing” from family or friends with little or no plan for how to repay them…  I wish I could say I didn’t know anyone who had ever bragged to me about they had “cheated” just a little, or that I had a perfect track record in this area.

This passage is filled with wisdom, but it is not wisdom we teach in many of our churches today.  Yet it is exactly what God teaches by example and what he expects of us.  Did not Jesus pray for God to “Give us this day our Daily Bread?”  He didn’t ask God to pour out the storehouses of Heaven so we could add a pool in the back yard, or afford a new car, or get that extra pair of shoes or the latest new gadget.  Yet he prayed with the complete confidence that God would not withhold any of his needs or cause him to live in shame or starvation.

man holding sheep statuette
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

It’s not as though God has commanded us to live as paupers and beggars– look at the way he provided for the Israelites in the wilderness.  He provided, quite literally, their daily bread/manna.  Just enough for each day, with a double portion for the Sabbath.  Just enough– just a sufficient amount.  No one had to worry about losing their food supply to theft, packing it up to travel, using it up before the expiration date, or comparing one brand to another to check for gluten or preservatives or recall notices.

No one had to worry about whether their shoes were the right color to match their favorite outfit, or if they had enough gas in the tank for their next move.  God provided all their needs when they absolutely COULD NOT.  And he provided more than just their basic needs– they had herds and flocks; he provided water and grazing for them, too.  He had caused the Egyptians to give them gold and jewels as they left Egypt, so they would have enough (and far more than enough) to make all the tools and objects for the tabernacle, and still have a medium of exchange when they reached their new homes in the Promised Land.

But God did not load his people with more riches than all the people around them.  He did not encourage them to seek out mansions and gobble up properties; they were commanded NOT to charge excessive interest on loans (and no interest to their own people), and warned about the dangers of pursuing riches over serving God.

Our current culture (at least in the U.S. and in much of the rest of the world) tends to be consumed by…consumption.  Having the newest and latest and best of everything.  Seeing to our own comfort and self-esteem and satisfaction– often at the expense of our devotion to Christ and our service to others.

man wearing gray long sleeved polo shirt near dock
Photo by Vincent Tan on Pexels.com

There’s nothing wrong with nice things– helpful tools, comforts, pleasures– God doesn’t want us to be miserable or full of a false humility that throws away opportunities and rewards.  But he needs us to see that not every “good” thing is the “best” thing for us.  We CAN be too rich, too thin, too smart, too proud…you get the idea.  Too much of a good thing can blind us to the BEST thing!

adult beautiful elegant eyewear
Photo by freestocks.org on Pexels.com

I’m writing this on what would have been my uncle’s 85th birthday.  May this piece of wisdom that he cherished fall on good soil.  May our prayer this week be that of Agur, son of Jakeh, the author of Proverbs 30 and prophet of God:

Proverbs 30:7-9 New International Version (NIV)

7 “Two things I ask of you, Lord;
do not refuse me before I die:
8 Keep falsehood and lies far from me;
give me neither poverty nor riches,
but give me only my daily bread.
9 Otherwise, I may have too much and disown you
and say, ‘Who is the Lord?’
Or I may become poor and steal,
and so dishonor the name of my God.

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑