A Staff of Reed (2019 Remix)

You can take the redeemed out of Egypt, but man, seems it’s really hard to get Egypt out of the redeemed. That was Israel’s story. Even up to the end. Though the Chaldeans were about to crush them, God’s people refused to say, “Uncle”; instead, they determined to take a stand, and the walking stick they chose to lean on was Egypt. But Egypt, as always, proved again to be a staff of reed.

“And I will cast you [Egypt] out into the wilderness,
       you and all the fish of your streams;
you shall fall on the open field,
       and not be brought together or gathered.
To the beasts of the earth and to the birds of the heavens
       I give you as food.

Then all the inhabitants of Egypt shall know that I am the LORD. Because you have been a staff of reed to the house of Israel, when they grasped you with the hand, you broke and tore all their shoulders; and when they leaned on you, you broke and made all their loins to shake.”

(Ezekiel 29:5-7 ESV)

I’ve always understood Egypt to be a type of the world. That this ancient land of power and prosperity is a picture of the systems, values, and cultures that surround the people of God which really offer nothing more than bondage and slavery. And yet these systems, values, and cultures are so deceptively attractive, that though nothing substantive and lasting comes from Egypt, Egypt always seems to be the place to go back to when the going gets tough. That though it has a certain allure of being a good land of fish, cucumbers, melons, leeks, and onions (Numbers 11:5) drawing the freed captive back to it, ultimately it is a distraction and detour from sojourning to a better land, the land of promise.

And you read the prophets and still God’s people had the propensity to look to Egypt for help in time of need. The place you’re tempted to go back to when you’re feeling cornered. Where you ask for help when you’re no longer seeking help from above. But it’s the place, when all is said and done, which is really of very little help and of no eternal value. Egypt, and the worldly systems it represents, are just a staff of reed.

“A flimsy reed crutch”, says the Message. Of no real help. Eventually breaking under the burden. Always a lousy substitute for real strength. That’s what the world is for God’s people.

Something appearing to be of substance, something advertising itself as having the answers, but hollow and with nothing of eternal value to offer. A straw walking stick. Woefully inadequate for the journey.

As if to emphasize the point, the Spirit adds an exclamation mark to this reminder with my reading in John’s letter.

Do not love the world or the things in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him. For all that is in the world — the desires of the flesh and the desires of the eyes and pride of life —  is not from the Father but is from the world. And the world is passing away along with its desires, but whoever does the will of God abides forever.

(1John 2:15-17 ESV)

The world is passing away . . . So, for those of us journeying to a better land, “that is, a heavenly one” (Heb. 11:16a), who are looking forward to a city which actually “has foundations, whose designer and builder is God” (Heb. 11:10), why would we hamstring ourselves with a flimsy crutch? Why go back to a land of bondage? Why seek aid from that which is, ultimately, of no help? Why pursue pleasures which, at best, are for a season, but which rob us of laying up treasures which last for eternity?

Do not love the world or the things in the world . . . Don’t be tempted, fooled, or compromised by a flimsy walking stick.

A staff of reed is a poor, sure to fail alternative. Trusting in Egypt, turning back to the world, only brings eventual disaster. How we need to resist the temptation to grasp a hollow cane when, instead, God invites us to “stand on the rock” (Ex. 33:21-22).

By the power of His grace. For the praise of His glory.

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No Scandal

Sometimes, great truths can seem to be too simple. Not that simple is easy, necessarily, but it is . . . well, simple. Uncomplicated. Straightforward. Your basic “if this, then that.” Came across one of those great truths this morning as I was reading in John’s first epistle.

Whoever loves his brother abides in the light, and in him there is no cause for stumbling.

(1John 2:10 ESV)

Love your brother? Abide in the light. Love your brother? No cause for stumbling? Simple. Right?

How do I know I’m abiding in Christ — something that’s pretty intangible? Seems I can gauge it pretty well by something very tangible — what’s my overall posture and relationship with other believers?

And I don’t think we’re talking just about those believers who I might consider to be in “my tribe”, but how do I regard those brothers and sisters who see things differently than I do? Do I love them? Do I feel a sincere affection for them? Am I able to extend toward them goodwill and esteem them better than myself? Do I love them? If yes, then I am abiding. If no, then I’m doing something less than living in the Vine and allowing the Vine to live through me.

Is it that simple? I’m thinking.

But what I’m really chewing on is part two of this simple (not easy) dynamic. Love my brother? Prize my sister? Then no cause for stumbling. Or, as the original puts it no scandal.

Scandalon . . . that’s the original word translated as stumbling.

No traps. No triggers. No snares. No scandal. There’s something about loving the family of God that makes navigating this world a little less treacherous; that reduces the likelihood of being disgraced, discredited, or dismissed.

Noodle on it a bit. Think back to a time when you stumbled, a situation where you ended up with mud on your face, disrepute before others, and awareness of sin in your heart. And tell me if there wasn’t an element of not loving others involved. I am guessing there could have been.

What if, in that situation, you had been loving that brother or esteeming that sister? What if, the love of Christ was the prevailing filter through which you viewed others because you were abiding in Christ? What if brotherly affection rather than bothered annoyance was your overall mood? No scandal, if that had been the case? I’m thinkin’ . . .

If I want to walk in a manner worthy of my calling (Eph. 4:1) — and that is what I want — then it seems that loving my brother, extending goodwill to my sister, is going to be a pretty big part of that walk. And, if I’m picking up what John is laying down, it’s that simple.

If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. . . Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends.

(1Corinthians 13:1-2, 7-8a ESV)

Seems like a pretty simple approach to ensuring no scandal.

Simple. Not easy.

Only by His grace. Always for His glory.

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Metanoia

A guy I used to work with said to me years ago, “Paranoia is just smart thinking when everyone’s against ya’.” Hard to argue with that. Well, this morning the Spirit’s reminding me that metanoia is just smart thinking when God’s for ya’.

“Jesus is coming again, you say. Really? So, where is He?” That was the voice of the scoffer in Peter’s day. The mocking mantra of those who were “following their own sinful desires” and sought to upset the exile’s apple cart, luring them off their pilgrim pathway with a detour of doubt (2Peter 3:3-4). To which Peter replied that the problem wasn’t with the Lord’s slackness but with the world’s sinfulness and that the Lord is waiting for metanoia.

But do not overlook this one fact, beloved, that with the Lord one day is as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day. The Lord is not slow to fulfill His promise as some count slowness, but is patient toward you, not wishing that any should perish, but that all should reach repentance.

(2Peter 3:8-9 ESV)

Reach repentance . . . That’s what I’m chewing on this morning. The Greek word for repentance being . . . . you guessed it, metanoia.

Jesus isn’t slow in fulfilling His promise to come again (Rev. 22:7, 12, 20), “He s giving everyone space and time to change” (MSG). To change their mind. To reverse their course. As Moses put it, to “choose life . . . loving the LORD your God, obeying His voice and holding fast to Him” (Deut. 30:19-20). To do a 180, choosing the kingdom’s way of flourishing rather than the world’s way of futility. He wants all to reach repentance.

And if that were a thing for the non-Christian only, then I could skip these verses having checked that box some 48 years ago. But it ain’t just for the unsaved or the sins of my distant past — there’s the sins of yesterday to deal with. And so, metanoia is still smart thinking. Still required to stay on course in the exile’s pilgrimage. Still needed to battle the lure of “all that is in the world — the desires of the flesh and the desires of the eyes and pride of life” (1John 2:16). Still the need to choose life and the way for flourishing over the way of futility.

And the Lord is still patient. But, says Paul, we are not to presume on His patience, or His forbearance, or His kindness. Instead, we are to remember “that God’s kindness is meant to lead you to repentance?” (Rom. 2:4). That His patience is meant to produce metanoia.

We cringe at repentance. We don’t like admitting we’ve failed again . . . and again . . . and again. It tastes like a bitter pill and so can become medicine we refuse to take. But if repentance is a place we end up at because of God’s kindness — and it is — then what offsets the bitterness? Can I suggest it’s the sweetness of coming to the Savior with our need and knowing afresh the joy of our salvation. It’s the respite found when we turn away from the world’s rat race and turn once more toward the Lord’s refuge. The refuge of the cross. The reminder that “God so loved the world” (John 3:16) The place where all striving ceases for “it is finished” (John 19:30). The place Jesus invites us to when He says, “Come to Me and I will give you rest” (Matt. 11:28).

Reach repentance . . . Something I need to do while I’m still God’s work in progress (Php. 1:6). Something I want to do, so that I truly might be “conformed to the image of His Son” (Rom. 8:29).

Yup! Metanoia is just smart thinking when God’s for ya’.

And if God is for us? . . . Well, you know the rest. (Rom. 8:31)

By the power of His grace. To the praise of His glory.

Amen?

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True Statement, Bad Counsel

Hovering over Job 5 this morning, part 2 of Eliphaz’s initial response to Job’s lament back in chapter 3. While this “brother” came to Job to “show him sympathy and comfort him” (Job. 2:11), and though he was shocked beyond words at the physical toll of Job’s multiple calamities — so much so, that at first he “didn’t recognize him” (Job 2:12), he wasn’t ready for Job’s vehement verbal outburst, “Let the day perish on which I was born . . . Why did I not die at birth? . . . Why is light given to him who is in misery?” (Job 3:1, 11, 20) And so, Eliphaz’s mission of comfort morphed into correction. His desire to offer his suffering friend some respite somehow shifted to rebuke. And while during his rebuttal he may have made some true statements, ultimately, Eliphaz gave some bad counsel. Case in point? The “blessing” of God’s reproof.

“Behold, blessed is the one whom God reproves;
       therefore despise not the discipline of the Almighty.
For He wounds, but he binds up;
       He shatters, but His hands heal.
He will deliver you from six troubles;
       in seven no evil shall touch you.

(Job 5:17-19 ESV)

Despise not the discipline of the Almighty . . .

Okay, can I get an “amen” on that? That seems to line up with something I recall from Proverbs (Prov. 3:11), a thing in Proverbs that’s quoted again in Hebrews (Heb. 12:5). Don’t refuse the LORD’s correction, because blessed is the one whom God reproves . . . true statement.

And yet, as I chew on Eliphaz’s declaration, it leaves me a little disquieted. Something’s not quite right here. And I think it’s in the “blessing” that Eliphaz describes. Wounds are good cause you’ll know the relief of being bound up. Shattering might be painful but knowing the healing will be wonderful. The reward is in the relief. The prize is the deliverance from pain. So, suck it up buttercup and wait for the blessing of getting better. Eliphaz’s emphasis is kind of like Satan’s, “Skin for skin” (Job. 2:4). The blessing of God found in the healing of God. That’s just bad counsel.

Eliphaz’s focus on physical healing and material blessing isn’t what Proverbs talks about. It’s not what Hebrews explains. When Proverbs and Hebrews exhort us to “not regard lightly the discipline of the Lord”, it’s because the Lord disciplines “the one He loves” (Prov. 3:12, Heb. 12:6). We embrace suffering not because our goal is simply to get through it and get better, but first as a reminder in the suffering that we are beloved. That God is treating us as dear children, allowing the trial “for our good” (Heb. 12:7-10).

And “the good” isn’t, as Eliphaz describes it, having wounds bound up, or even shattered lives healed, ultimately it’s for a far greater and longer lasting “good”.

For [our earthly fathers] disciplined us for a short time as it seemed best to them, but [God] disciplines us for our good, that we may share His holiness. For the moment all discipline seems painful rather than pleasant, but later it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it.

(Hebrews 12:10-11 ESV)

The ultimate prize for Job’s endurance through the severe trials God permitted was so that Job might share God’s holiness. The best outcome Job could know from his sufferings — an outcome transcending his time on earth — was the peaceful fruit of righteousness. Or, to put it as Paul would to the Romans, “to be conformed to the image of God’s Son” (Rom. 8:29). That’s the “good” that “all things work together for” (Rom. 8:28). That’s the prize.

Knowing this doesn’t make the suffering any less or any easier. It certainly doesn’t dimiinish the need for comforters to come alongside to “weep with those who weep” (Rom. 12:15b), doesn’t excuse us from compassionately comforting others “with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God” (2Cor. 1:4). But for those who are called to draw alongside and help bear our brother’s burden or help carry our sister’s heavy weight, knowing this does allow us to give good counsel when we make true statement that, truly, blessed is the one whom God reproves.

Blessed because He loves us as a Father loves His children. Blessed because He is transforming us, so that more and more we share His holiness. Though we desire relief, respite, and restoration, blessed because the ultimate blessing in God’s reproof is found in the harvest of the character of Christ, the peaceful fruit of righteousness.

And this, by His grace. And this, for His glory.

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It Will Be Performed

I was naïve and he was being smug. It was the mid ’80’s, I was still pretty young in the faith, and I was eating up Josh McDowell’s “Evidence That Demands a Verdict.” Armed with all that “evidence”, I figured all I had to do was share the data with others and surely they’d believe too. So, I laid on him the fact that over 300 prophecies were fulfilled by Jesus’ earthly ministry and then I said something like, “If all that has come true in the past, then how likely is it that what Jesus predicted about His coming again will also happen?” To which his quick and sarcastic reply was something like, “Well, given that run of luck, I’d say the odds are against it.” Heavy sigh.

That wet blanket experience comes to mind this morning as a bit of repetition in Ezekiel reminds me that the fulfillment of prophecy isn’t a matter of the odds, it’s a matter of God.

Ezekiel prophesied among “the exiles” in Babylon (Ezek. 1:1-3). He spoke the word of the LORD concerning the impending and utter fall and destruction of Jerusalem (Ezek. 5). Yet, there were prophets back in Judah who were spinning a different story, saying something like “Nah, not gonna happen . . . the worst is over . . . there’s gonna be peace (Ezek. 13:10) . . . the odds are against it.” But as repeated three times this morning in my reading, it’s not about the odds.

“For there shall be no more any false vision or flattering divination within the house of Israel. For I am the LORD; I will speak the word that I will speak, and it will be performed. It will no longer be delayed, but in your days, O rebellious house, I will speak the word and perform it, declares the Lord GOD.”

And the word of the LORD came to me: “Son of man, behold, they of the house of Israel say, ‘The vision that he sees is for many days from now, and he prophesies of times far off.’ Therefore say to them, Thus says the Lord GOD: None of My words will be delayed any longer, but the word that I speak will be performed, declares the Lord GOD.”

(Ezekiel 12:24-28 ESV)

Hear the echo of emphasis? The shout that, the word that I speak will be performed?

The determining factor as to the veracity and certainty of the things that are to be is that they are promises and prophecies spoken by God. That’s true north. That’s the “money in the bank”, the surety of what is to come. If it is God-breathed (2Tim. 3:16) then it is to be believed.

So, how I need to be a person of the Word. How I need to know God’s word in order to provide wisdom and discernment as I try and make sense of the signs of the time. How I need to know God’s precepts and principles in order to navigate this pilgrim pathway as a modern day exile in this wretched Babylon. How I need the assurance of God’s promises in order to have an anchor for the storm and a pilot light that ignites the flame of inner renewal in my weariness.

I need to know afresh that the word He speaks, it will be performed.

Word of God speak!

Not relying on the odds. Solely dependent upon my God.

By His grace. For His glory.

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Restore Us to Yourself

It wasn’t a pretty sight . . . The collateral damage of sin never is.

Jerusalem was leveled. For the most part, the people were gone. For those who remained there were the painful memories of the past, the overwhelming reality of the present, and a lack of any real hope for the future. All because of sin. As the old Southern gospel song reminds those with ears to hear, “Sin will take you farther than you want to go; Slowly, but wholly, taking control; Sin will leave you longer than you want to stay; Sin will cost you far more than you want to pay.”

Like I said, not a pretty sight.

That’s been the landscape of my readings in Lamentations for the past few days. Heavy sigh.

This morning, as I wrap up Jeremiah’s lament, it’s his three-fold prayer that’s given me something to chew on.

Remember, O LORD, what has befallen us;
       look, and see our disgrace!

Restore us to Yourself, O LORD, that we may be restored!
       Renew our days as of old—
unless You have utterly rejected us,
       and You remain exceedingly angry with us.

(Lamentations 5:1, 21-22 ESV)

Remember . . . Restore . . . Renew . . .

Seems to me — at least from my own experience — I’m quick to pray for the “renew” part. Though not at the level of eradication and exile, when my sin results in remorse and repentance I am most apt to pray, “Okay, sorry Lord. Now let’s get back to where we were before this mess.” But before renewal, it seems remembrance and restoration are kind of important.

Remember, O LORD . . . see our disgrace! Not something I think I’m naturally inclined to pray before a holy, holy, holy God. Amidst the wreckage, I want to move on as quickly as possible and forget my foolishness. But repentance starts with honesty. It requires transparency. It invites God to look at the pitiful reality of the mess I’m sitting in. And I do that not to invite His searing gaze to further accentuate my guilt and shame, but because I believe that the LORD is “a God merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness” (Ex. 34:6). I believe that He is able to sympathize with my weakness and the results of my wretchedness because He too “in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin” (Heb. 4:15). So far from hiding from God, rather than sew my own fig leaves and try and cover my sin from His all-knowing gaze (Gen. 3:7-8), I can pray: Remember, O LORD, what has befallen me, look, and see my disgrace.

Okay, done. Now can we move on to renew our days as of old? Not so fast. Go there too quickly and you actually miss the best part (if I can refer to it like that) of repentance.

Restore us to Yourself, O LORD, that we may be restored!

Restore us to Yourself . . . There’s the prize. Literally, “Turn us back, O Jehovah, unto Thee” (YLT).

That’s the 180 we desire! That God would no longer be behind us as we’ve turned our back on Him through unbelief and idolatry — because we’ve ignored His word and sought things other than Himself — but that He would turn us toward Himself so that we would know again His face shining upon us and His countenance lifted toward us (Num. 6:24-26). That we would know, deeper than ever before, the reality of communion with Him. That out of the wreckage of our transgression, abiding in Him (Jn. 15:1-8) would be more desired, and that Christ living in me (Gal. 2:20) would be more real.

As much as we desire renewal — and we should — the real prize is Jesus. It’s always Jesus.

That we would know the fullness of His unmeasurable grace to the forever praise of His all-deserved glory.

Amen?

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The Very Flame of the LORD

Am I hovering over the 1Corinthians 13 of the Old Testament? Hmm . . . could be.

Guess it shouldn’t be surprising that a song written to tell a grand love story will eventually try and define love. While love for sure is better felt than tell’t, it makes sense, at some point, to try to paint a picture of the prevailing dynamic between a beloved and his bride. Think I came to that point this morning as I continue reading in the Song of Solomon. And I guess I also shouldn’t be surprised that when it comes to trying to connect to the nature of love the LORD’s name is invoked — after all, “God is love” (1Jn. 4:8, 16).

. . . for love is strong as death,
       jealousy is fierce as the grave.
Its flashes are flashes of fire,
       the very flame of the LORD.
Many waters cannot quench love,
       neither can floods drown it.
If a man offered for love all the wealth of his house,
       he would be utterly despised.

(Song of Solomon 8:6b-7 ESV)

The very flame of the LORD . . . a flame of YAH . . . that’s the phrase that caught my attention this morning. Stands out because it’s the first and only mention of God in this song, and that only if you’re reading in the ESV or NASB (in other translations it will be found in the margin as an alternate reading).

So, to chew on the preoccupation, passion, and pursuit of love which is presented in the Song is to appreciate in some measure the very flame of the LORD. When God says to His people, “I have loved you with an everlasting love” (Jer. 31:3), Solomon’s song can give us a picture of what everlasting love looks like.

The very flame of the LORD is as mighty and fierce and unrelenting as death which cannot be denied. It’s ardency, zeal, and passion are like the grave which won’t take no for an answer. Its pursuit is not to be denied, its target surely to be taken.

The very flame of the LORD is unquenchable. Oceans cannot extinguish it. Mighty streams and raging rivers cannot wash it away. It burns not only intensely, but it also burns forever. Its fire is always and never less than “a most vehement flame” (NKJV). Love never ends (1Cor. 13:8). It never fails (NKJV).

The worth of the very flame of the LORD? Inestimable! Any price tendered in hopes of purchasing it is an insulting offer. The only way to attain it is to be gifted it.

Who can adequately describe the very flame of the LORD?

Could we with ink the ocean fill
and were the skies of parchment made,
were ev’ry stalk on earth a quill
and ev’ry man a scribe by trade,
to write the love of God above
would drain the ocean dry;
nor could the scroll contain the whole,
tho’ stretched from sky to sky.
~ The Love of God, Frederick M. Lehman (1917) ~

The very flame of the LORD . . .

Known only through His grace. Delighted in always for His glory.

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His Desire

I’ve said it before, gonna say it again: when it comes to the Scriptures, repetition is roaring, the same thing in succession is shouting, an echo is an exclamation point. Get the idea?

And even more so, I think, when the repetition is picked up over multiple days of the reading plan. It’s one thing to see something repeated three times in a single passage, but to pick up on the same reiteration over multiple days? Well, I’m thinking that’s some serious Spirit-fueled illumination happening through some heart-targeted reverberation — the Spirit’s whisper a shout as I read again, “I am my beloved’s.”

My beloved is mine, and I am his;
       he grazes among the lilies.

(Song of Solomon 2:16 ESV, Last Tuesday’s Reading)

I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine;
       he grazes among the lilies.

(Song of Solomon 6:3 ESV, Yesterday’s Reading)

I am my beloved’s,
       and his desire is for me.

(Song of Solomon 7:10 ESV, Today’s Reading)

In this song of love desired, love lost, love pursued, and love found, the “beloved” has to be a foreshadowing of Christ and His bride a picture, to some degree, of the church. And so, hear the church’s echo of assurance, “I am my Beloved’s.”

Want to re-calibrate on identity? I am His.

Need to know you’re not alone. He grazes among the lilies, the places where His flock is found. The Lord is my Shepherd . . . He makes me lie down in green pastures . . . He leads me beside still waters (Ps. 23:1-2).

Want to know what the Beloved thinks of me on my best day? On my worst day? On every day in between? His desire is for me.

Literally, He stretches out after me. While I might know in measure a longing for Him, it pales in comparison to His longing for me. He wants me! He likes me! My Beloved loves me!

Just getting “mushy” over an ancient love song? Don’t think so. In fresh awe of the reality of a divine union and the jaw-dropping truth that I am His and He is mine and His desire is for me.

Jesus says so . . .

“Father, I desire that they also, whom You have given Me, may be with Me where I am . . . that the love with which You have loved Me may be in them, and I in them.”

(John 17:24a, 26b ESV)

I desire that they . . . may be with Me . . .

I am my Beloved’s . . . His desire is for me.

What grace! To God be the glory.

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Where Would I Go? (2016 Remix)

The going was getting tough. And so, many got going . . . as in, “I’m outta’ here!” For them, it just seemed to be getting weirder and weirder.

What started out as talk on the crowd’s motivation for following Jesus (answer: not because they were intrigued by His signs but because they wanted to eat some more of His free food), quickly shifted to a treatise about bread from heaven. And not the manna stuff that Moses gave, but “man stuff”, Jesus Himself claiming to the bread from heaven.

“I am the bread of life,” Jesus tells them. Come to Me, He says, and you’ll never hunger. Believe in Me, and you’ll never thirst. Not only did it not make sense to the crowds, it ticked off the religious leaders. Any claim Jesus made about coming down from heaven, no matter how nonsensical it seemed, was enough to get their backs up. They understood the connection to Jesus’ “Messiah complex” even if they didn’t get His “bread of life” shtick.

And then, it gets a little more bizarre. Jesus tells the crowd that they actually need to eat the bread of heaven. And their minds are spinning, “I need to eat Jesus?” Yup. To avoid any misunderstanding as to the implication of what He was saying, Jesus clearly declares, “Whoever feeds on My flesh and drinks My blood has eternal life” (John 6:44). Like I said, weirder and weirder.

Following Jesus was already starting to come with a cost. And it’s not like He was an exact fit for what they imagined Messiah to be. But then throw in this eat My flesh and drink My blood stuff? For many, it was too much. It was time to tap out.

When many of His disciples heard it, they said, “This is a hard saying; who can listen to it?” . . . After this many of His disciples turned back and no longer walked with Him.

(John 6:60, 66 ESV)

And so Jesus turns to the Twelve and asks them, “Do you want to go away as well?” (6:67).

And I’m thinking that’s a question that most of us disciples have heard the Lord ask at least once or twice as we have followed Him. Not just when we may have wavered under a struggle with some hard teachings, but more likely when we have become weary as we’ve struggled with some hard times.

Times in our life when our reality doesn’t align with our dreams. When what we thought would be, isn’t. When what we couldn’t have imagined has come to be. When life just seems hard. When it doesn’t make sense. When following Jesus hasn’t resulted in the storyline we had written for ourselves in our own minds. When things just seem to get weirder and weirder. When others might very well say, “Enough. This isn’t working like I want it to. I’m outta’ here!”

Then that still small voice breaks through and, in some form, we hear Jesus ask the question, “Do you want to go away as well?” It’s then the Spirit works in us to answer as Peter answered:

“Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life, and we have believed, and have come to know, that you are the Holy One of God.”

(John 6:68-69 ESV)

To whom would we go? Where would we turn?

No matter how turbulent the ride gets, no safer place to be than in His arms. Regardless of how crazy the situation is yet to get, no wisdom I’d rather have than His wisdom. Whatever comes, no one I’d rather encounter it with than with the Holy One of God . . . the Creator and Sustainer of all things . . . the One who loved me and gave Himself for Me . . . the One who intercedes for me at the very throne of heaven . . . the One who has promised that, one day, where He is I will be also.

Where would I go? Where would I flee? Where would I shelter?

Only to the refuge found in the Rock of my salvation!

Where would I go but to the Lord?

By His grace. For His glory.

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Altogether Desirable

As I wrap up Jeremiah this morning, it’s God’s anger and God’s kindness that leaves an after taste. His anger poured out as He directs Babylon to raze Jerusalem because of the depths of Judah’s rebellion. And yet His kindness foreshadowed as a defeated monarch is “graciously freed”, kindly spoken to, and given “a seat above the seats” of other conquered kings (Jer. 52:31-34) — a type of “firstfruits” of those in captivity according to Jeremiah’s prophetic promise of restoration and blessing.

My reading in John left another after taste — the after taste of feeding on the flesh and of drinking the blood of the Son of Man (Jn. 6:53-56). At first, not the most appetizing meal to imagine, but for those who know what it is to abide in Him and He in us, a sweet feast of love divine. A forever feast. Manna beyond measure, “the true bread from heaven” (Jn. 6:32b).

Then, wrapped up the third chapter of Peter’s first letter. The command to “honor Christ as holy” (1Pet. 3:15) pretty much a gimme as I’m reminded that, not only has “Christ also suffered once for sins, the Righteous for the unrighteous, that He might bring us to God” (3:18), but also that He “has gone into heaven and is at the right hand of God, with angels, authorities, and powers having been subjected to Him” (3:22). Noodle on that a bit! Behold the Lamb and the Lion!

And so, my readings in Jeremiah, John, and Peter end up becoming a kind of three-course meal, serving up thoughts of my Redeemer and adding a wonderful flavor to the “appetizer” provided this morning in Solomon’s Song.

His mouth is most sweet,
       and he is altogether desirable.
This is my beloved and this is my friend,
       O daughters of Jerusalem.

(Song of Solomon 5:16 ESV)

He is altogether desirable . . . He is altogether lovely (NKJV) . . . that’s the thought which set the table for me this morning.

How ever you want to approach the Song, tell me that the bride’s declaration concerning her beloved isn’t a fitting way for the saved to describe their Savior. He is altogether desirable . . .

The Lamb who died for me, the Shepherd who sought me . . . altogether desirable.

The Master who called me, the Friend who enfolds me . . . altogether lovely.

The Lord who sends me, the Vine who sustains me . . . altogether lovely.

The Son who loved me, the Bridegroom who is coming for me . . .

This is my Beloved and this is my Friend . . . He is altogether desirable.

How’s that for something to chew on?

All because of His amazing grace.

Only for His all-deserving glory.

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