simple faith

Restoration of Peter

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15 “When they had finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, “Simon, son of John, do you love me more than these?” He said to him, “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” He said to him, “Feed my lambs.” 

16 He said to him a second time, “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” He said to him, “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” He said to him, “Tend my sheep.” 17 He said to him the third time,” 

“Simon, son of John, do you love me?” Peter was grieved because he said to him the third time, “Do you love me?” and he said to him, “Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Feed my sheep.'”

John 21:15-17, (context vv. 15-19)

Peter’s denial was public one, and it was important that his restoration be public as well. It may come as a shock, but Peter needed to do this–even though it was a grief to him (verse 17.) He needed to do this to heal properly. It was also a clear testimony to the others that he was completely restored.

Repeatedly in this passage, love gets linked to service.

(Can you see this, it’s important that you do.) The Lord asks Peter if he really loved him, and most likely it was a solemn affair, not something trivial or casual. The word used is ἀγαπάω, “agape”–this is the type of love that God has for people. It’s an all-powerful love, one that gives 110%.

The third time the word for love is different though, the word used is φιλέω, “philo”–this is a type of love that a man has for others, a brotherly kind of love. Something good, but not quite agape love.

Each time Jesus uses agape to Peter, Peter responds with philo.

Peter responds, but he’s fixated on the brotherly type of love. I don’t mean to be confusing here, but every time Jesus uses agape to Peter, Peter responds with philo. It’s as if Peter is struggling with loving Jesus wholeheartedly. Perhaps Peter was ashamed of his denial. But to his credit he was honest.

Service is now connected to agape love.

Love can’t be seen unless it has a physical aspect. Love can’t be abstract, a vague feeling, or a hazy concept–it has to be seen by others. Jesus’ sheep (and lambs) must be fed, and watched over. This is now Peter’s call to ministry.

This is Jesus’ ministry as well.

Apparently there is plenty of this kind of work to go around! Isaiah prophesied about Jesus’ work in Isa. 40:11. This now becomes Peter’s work as well.

“He will tend his flock like a shepherd;
he will gather the lambs in his arms;
he will carry them in his bosom,
and gently lead those that are with young.”

Whether or not Peter was the first “pope” is debatable. But it’s clear that Jesus focused on Peter. And isn’t it just like him to turn our failings into victories. Peter’s denial was now his ministry to others. It dealt with the pride issue, which disrupts true ministry to His flock.

“And I will give you shepherds after my own heart, who will feed you with knowledge and understanding.”

Jeremiah 3:15

God uses broken things. It takes broken soil to produce a crop, broken clouds to give rain, broken grain to give bread, broken bread to give strength. It is the broken alabaster box that gives forth perfume. It is Peter, weeping bitterly, who returns to greater power than ever.

  Vance Havner

Lazarus: In His Own Words

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John 11:33-44

When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who had come with her also weeping, he was deeply moved in his spirit and greatly troubled. 34 And he said, “Where have you laid him?” They said to him, “Lord, come and see.” 35 Jesus wept. 36 So the Jews said, “See how he loved him!”  

Jesus Raises Lazarus

38 Then Jesus, deeply moved again, came to the tomb. It was a cave, and a stone lay against it. 39 Jesus said, “Take away the stone.” Martha, the sister of the dead man, said to him, “Lord, by this time there will be an odor, for he has been dead four days.” 40 Jesus said to her, “Did I not tell you that if you believed you would see the glory of God?” 

 So they took away the stone. And Jesus lifted up his eyes and said, “Father, I thank you that you have heard me. 42 I knew that you always hear me, but I said this on account of the people standing around, that they may believe that you sent me.” 43 When he had said these things, he cried out with a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out.” 44 The man who had died came out, his hands and feet bound with linen strips, and his face wrapped with a cloth.

Jesus said to them, “Unbind him, and let him go.”

My name is Lazarus and I was a special “friend” of Jesus. We liked being with each other, and my sisters Mary and Martha also enjoyed fellowshipping with Him. Whenever He passed through Bethany, Jesus always had an open invitation to visit.

What’s it like to be dead? Many ask me this, and I suppose they want to understand, and I don’t blame them. To me, it seemed like a very deep sleep–but I didn’t dream. Those who look for any special insight, will not find it from me. And yet, I am His witness. He has incredible power over death.

I heard Him call my name.

It pierced through everything with an authority I’d never heard before. I had been laid in my tomb for 4 days and my physical body had begun to putrefy. When they rolled the stone away the terrible smell of death lay heavy in the air.

I was tightly bound in cotton wraps and sticky spices had been applied to my body. Mary and Martha had objected to Jesus’ attempt. As I looked back I realize that their actions were justified. After all, who can give life when one is very much dead. And not only dead but well on the way on to decay. The smell wafted from my tomb.

I had heard His shout, and it was then death was reversed.

My heart and brain began to work again. When I came to I found that I was lying on a stone table and tightly wrapped in the clothes of the dead. I managed to sit up, and I shuffled toward the light that had entered the tomb by the stone that covered the door.

When Jesus saw me I believe that He was laughing. He gave the command to the shocked bystanders, He commanded them to unwrap me. I suppose that then I realized I was now in the land of the living. I can’t explain what had happened, But my grave clothes were unwrapped.

There were many that day that became believers.

Many had attested that I was most certainly dead, after all, they had attended my funeral. Some had observed that I had been slathered in the sticky ointment–fragrant spices. And a few were witnesses to see the stone rolled in place.

There were some who simply didn’t (or wouldn’t) believe.

There were the Pharisees and the Sadducees who wanted me dead hoping to nullify my witness and my resurrection from the dead. I had become an embarrassment to them, a constant reminder that Jesus had defeated death.

Their hatred of Jesus’ ministry was only strengthened. My own resurrection proved His authority and power over even death. I was a walking and breathing miracle that they refused to accept. It got so bad that the religious leaders wanted to kill me because so many believed in my resurrection. I was a living witness to many.

Yes, I know that I’ll die again. But I’m not afraid anymore.

“He alone can believe in immortality who feels the resurrection in him already.“

Frederick W. Robertson

alaskabibleteacher.com

Art: blogspot.com. Scripture: Christian Standard Bible, Holman Publishers; The Message, Eugene Peterson

Dancing With Bruises

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Dancers are some of the most talented people I know. Their gracefulness is truly amazing. But a dancer’s training is far from easy. By choosing to become dancers they have made a decision to absorb the pain of the dance.

Their toes and feet are blistered and bruised–they take constant abuse. Some live with chronic tendonitis, and their feet bleed sometimes, pain is their constant companion, but you know what? They still choose to dance. It’s what they were born to do.

Two things to consider.

  • They choose to dance. Dancers must operate with an iron will and an elegant grace. I suppose that is why they can dance the way they do. They have painfully blended the two. We see the elegance, but don’t see the pain.
  • The scars and bruises often become “badges of honor.” They would rather dance in pain, than not dance at all.

I once heard someone describe depression as having a mental bruise. I think I understand this. 

As one prone to depression, I know what it is like to bury myself in my bed for weeks at a time. My own mental bruise was simply more than I could take. There was a sensation of sinking into blackness, a sense of total and complete despair. I felt lost and completely alone.

I prayed. I groaned, and I prayed again.

My sense of being totally lost in sad, dark thoughts was beyond comprehension. Dear reader, this was something quite real, and you must become aware of these things. Over 25% of people are diagnosed with depression sometime in their life.

Maybe some of your friends are suffering this way? It’s often hidden by a fake smile, but it’s there and you don’t even know it.

We would never say that diabetics are that way because of the enemy. The dark one will surely exploit it, but I think you give him far too much credit if you suggest he was able to initiate it. I don’t think Satan has the spiritual “voltage.” He often uses depression to “set his hooks” in a person.

I refuse to hide my mental bruises from those who share my pain. I will make the choice to dance. I’m bruised, but I will try to ignore the pain. God meets me with an extra helping of His grace and mercy. I want to exult in God, walk in His love, and “leaping with joy like calves let out to pasture” (Malachi 4:2.)

“A bruised reed he will not break, and a smoldering wick he will not snuff out, till he has brought justice through to victory.”

Isaiah 42:3

The great pastor/evangelist Charles Spurgeon once spoke about his own personal battle with depression:

 “I find myself frequently depressed – perhaps more so than any other person here. And I find no better cure for that depression than to trust in the Lord with all my heart, and seek to realize afresh the power of the peace-speaking blood of Jesus, and His infinite love in dying upon the cross to put away all my transgressions.”

For I’m a Sinful Man

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“And when he had finished speaking, he said to Simon, “Put out into the deep and let down your nets for a catch.” 5 And Simon answered, “Master, we toiled all night and took nothing! But at your word I will let down the nets.” 6 And when they had done this, they enclosed a large number of fish, and their nets were breaking.“

“They signaled to their partners in the other boat to come and help them. And they came and filled both the boats, so that they began to sink. 8 But when Simon Peter saw it, he fell down at Jesus’ knees, saying, 

“Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord.”

Luke 5:4-8, ESV

Man, could He teach. Jesus sat in my boat speaking to the crowd–His words had the ring of truth–authoritative. I had never in my life encountered anyone like Him. His teaching was masterful and it pierced through the religious rhetoric we grew up with.

But it just wasn’t words. My mother-in-law had a terrible fever, and Jesus had healed her. He had also healed many others as we watched. Never had a man done this, it was unprecedented. And now this very same Jesus was sitting in my boat.

He directed us to go out and fish again.

You must know that we had already fished during the night away, and had caught nothing. Sometimes that happens. But Jesus was asking us to make another try. Fishing during the day just wasn’t done and I suppose I wasn’t thrilled about working again.

We rowed out some distance and threw out our nets. I expected nothing. Suddenly, without warning, the nets began to fill with fish–big, beautiful fish! We scooped out as fast as we could, and our boat began to sink. There were so many and they kept coming. I shouted out to the other boat. We needed help.

Soon both of our boats had taken all they could possibly handle.

I was completely overwhelmed, and I turned around to see Jesus in a new light. He was more than a powerful man–He was the Lord and the Messiah! I instantly knew and believed. It was then I collapsed at His feet. I spoke that which was in my heart.

“Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord.”

Life was about to change for Peter. Radically. I believe that it was at this point that his discipleship began. As he knelt there on the slimy fish he was told that he was going to become a “fisher of men.” That moment of brokenness would become a moment of real strength for him. I suppose that this is how it works.

Peter would commit a multitude of sins–he fell woefully short on several different occasions, and yet Jesus would forgive him over and over. At the end Peter would end up denying the Lord three times, and yet he repented.

Peter is an example of God’s grace and mercy.

“God uses broken things. It takes broken soil to produce a crop, broken clouds to give rain, broken grain to give bread, broken bread to give strength. It is the broken alabaster box that gives forth perfume. It is Peter, weeping bitterly, who returns to greater power than ever.“

     Vance Havner

alaskabibleteacher.com

Am I Ignitable?

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“Who makes His angels spirits and His ministers a flame of fire.”

Hebrews 1:7

Jim Elliot was a Christian missionary martyred by the Auca Indians of Ecuador in 1956. He was just 29 years old. This quote was found in a journal he kept, and it was found after his death. There’s much here to process.

“He makes His ministers a flame of fire.” Am I ignitable? God deliver me from the dread asbestos of ‘other things.’ Saturate me with the oil of the Spirit that I may be aflame. But flame is transient, often short lived. Canst thou bear this, my soul – short life? … Make me thy fuel, Flame of God.”

Jim Elliot, “Shadow of the Almighty”

A wonderful and intense quote. Passionate. Maybe we should dismantle it and consider what he was trying to say. There are some great insights to be found here.

First, he writes of asking God to be saturated with the oil of the Spirit. Jim Elliot wants to be set on fire with his life, heart, and spirit becoming the fuel.

Second, he writes of “dread asbestos.” Almost 2000 degrees F is needed to melt this down. Now regarded as a carcinogen but because it’s basically fireproof it was used often. For the person walking by faith it illustrates the power of sin.

Third, he writes about the brevity and shortness of his life and his need to live in the bright light of eternity.

O.K. Let’s switch metaphors.

The ponderosa pine needs fire to propagate. Their seeds are fire-activated.

Fire activates the cone that holds the seeds. Looking we see a tight little bundle which is covered in resin. To germinate they must be burned. Fire melts the exterior and the pine cone and releases the seed; and actually they can lay dormant for several years just waiting for the heat.

The believer needs heat to grow.

I don’t think there is any other way. The Word and the Spirit, combined with the heat of the circumstances we face, creates a blaze that is often seen by others. The furnace is God’s way to bring lasting change to His people. I wish it were different.

“They said to each other, “Did not our hearts burn within us while he talked to us on the road, while he opened to us the Scriptures?”’

Walking with Jesus to Emmaus, Luke 24:32

“Who among us shall dwell with the devouring fire? Who among us shall dwell with everlasting burnings?”

Isaiah 33:14

Your Plow is Waiting

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“No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God.”

Luke 9:62 (context, vv. 57-62)

Every disciple has his plow. Sometimes it’ll be obvious, everyone sees it; other times it’ll be buried deep inside, and no one knows. A plow is a perfect word to describe exactly what the Holy Spirit is doing–and its descriptive of the determination of a disciple who is slowly learning how to follow.

When you’re trying to grow-up you’ll grasp this foundational lesson. You have to be single-minded and really focused to stay moving ahead. You cannot look behind at what has been done. You can’t turn around to admire your work, rather we look at the tree that is keeping us lined up with Jesus.

You will sweat and get tired. Your full effort is needed to keep the plow in the hard earth. You aren’t pushing, the oxen is pulling, but you’re the one who weighs it down while keeping your furrow relatively straight. It’s harder than it looks. (Thank God for the modern tractor.)

In case the plowman starts to look back, his plow line would become crooked. If that happens, the field he is plowing will not yield a full harvest. A good plowman has learned he must hold on. In following Jesus, we are to keep our eyes on Him, and never let our minds and hearts wander away. (Hebrews 12:1-2.)

“To keep our hand on the plow while wiping away the tears–THAT is Christianity.”

-Watchman Nee

To follow means looking and moving forward. We must understand this–it’s the very essence of walking a path. We’re walking out the journey. Sometimes we feel Jesus’ joy as His follower, but occasionally we won’t. We’re learning to understand it more and more. But no matter what, we keep putting heel-to-toe. We are followers after all.

Jesus lived this; He steadfastly set His face to go to Jerusalem (Luke 9:51).

“To learn strong faith is to endure great trials. I have learned my faith by standing firm amid severe testings.”

-George Mueller

Thinking Out Loud About Dying

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A dear Christian friend has built his own coffin. He now uses it as a coffee table in his living room until the day he dies. I’m told that Trappist monks next to their monastery an open grave, a constant reminder of the certainty of death. When they file past it, they understand that everyone must die.

Do you see death-smiling as a type of leer or as an evil grin upon the face of an enemy that is about to bring you pain? Or is the smile a gentle one that offers solace at a time when fear may be raging?  

“You sweep people away like dreams that disappear.
    They are like grass that springs up in the morning.
6 In the morning it blooms and flourishes,
    but by evening it is dry and withered.”

Psalm 90:4-6

In ancient Israel, Psalm 39 served as a “memento mori”—a reminder of human mortality. “Oh LORD, make me know my end and what is the measure of my days; let me know how fleeting I am!” (v. 4). David understood that life is somewhat insignificant in the light of eternity.

Remember that you must die someday. 

“None of us can hold back our spirit from departing. None of us has the power to prevent the day of our death. There is no escaping that obligation, that dark battle.”

Ecclesiastes 8:7-8

Memento mori is a reminder of the inevitability of death. Jesus’s words, “Very truly I tell you, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds” (John 12:24).

As we adopt the reality of dying we must refuse the worldly ideas of death:

  • Our fear
  • Our doubts
  • Our frustration and cynicism
  • The loneliness
  • Satanic attack

“Let your hope of heaven master your fear of death.”

    William Gurnall

In the New Testament, Jesus exhorts his disciples to pick up their crosses daily and to remember their death as they follow him to the Place of the Skull: “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me” (Lk 9:23).

Remembering one’s death is an absolutely essential aspect of the Christian life, not only because it helps us to live well but also because it helps us to remember what Christ has done for us. 

As you integrate memento mori into your life, you will find more fruit in the practice if you are able to connect within the community of the Church who are on the same journey. Talk with family and close friends about your journey.

Knowing you’re going to die and face a certain judgement is a bit unnerving. It’s also a definite way of defeating sinful habits. When we understand this, much evil is now avoided and renounced. Yes, you’re barreling into a real encounter with God. That you can be sure.

Our judgement is very much real. But we have a perfect plea. Jesus has paid the price for us. It’s His blood that delivers us and fully redeems us. Standing (or kneeling) we realize the love and mercy He has for us. When we stand before God, we stand complete.

“Death is no more than passing from one room into another. But there’s a difference for me, you know. Because in that other room I shall be able to see.”

  Helen Keller

There should be no fear of dying.

We’re fully and irrevocably forgiven. You can be sure of that. We can smile at death, knowing that it leads us into a perfect connection. Are you afraid? Yes, I understand. But know, if you’ve accepted Jesus as your Savior and Lord, the payment for all your sins, you’re forgiven.

alaskabibleteacher.com

Under Command

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 When Jesus had entered Capernaum, a centurion came to him, asking for help. 6 “Lord,” he said, “my servant lies at home paralyzed, suffering terribly.”

7 Jesus said to him, “Shall I come and heal him?”

8 The centurion replied, “Lord, I do not deserve to have you come under my roof. But just say the word, and my servant will be healed. 9 For I myself am a man under authority, with soldiers under me. I tell this one, ‘Go,’ and he goes; and that one, ‘Come,’ and he comes. I say to my servant, ‘Do this,’ and he does it.”

13 Then Jesus said to the centurion, “Go! Let it be done just as you believed it would.” And his servant was healed at that moment.

Matthew 8:5-9, 13; (see Luke 7:2-10)

Obedience was how we would survive. I understood authority and submission to my superior officers. It’s known as “the chain of command” and it’s the reason why armies function well. I blended my will to my superior, and I knew he was also under authority to his own superior.

It wasn’t easy duty as a Roman soldier among the Jews. We were hated everywhere.

But my servant was paralyzed, and I knew that he was suffering greatly, but I had run out of options. My servant was the only family I was allowed to have. Since I served as a centurion I was not allowed to have a wife for the duration of my service. Over the years I’ve kept close and trustworthy servants with me–these men were very dear to me. They were my family.

I certainly was aware that we lived in constant danger from radical Jews, especially the Zealots. They had already assassinated some of my men.

I had exhausted all efforts to bring some relief and healing to my servant, he seemed to be getting worse, not better. I had information that there was an itinerant teacher who had a reputation as a healer of diseases. This man, Jesus from Nazareth, had a large following and I realized that He was now my only possible solution.

So I went to Him for help.

He wanted to return with me to my home. His willingness to come encouraged me, but I simply couldn’t allow that. Jesus’ visit would’ve made Him ceremonially unclean–I was a Gentile, a “dog.” Returning with Him would only sow doubt among my men.

I understood that my home was officially off-limits to Him.

But yet I did understand something. I was under authority as a centurion in the Roman army, and my men followed my orders. Obedience meant survival in a very angry and hostile environment like Judea. Our entire unit was constantly drilled in this, and each man understood the need for following authority. We had to obey our superiors.

So I simply asked Jesus to heal my servant, with just His word of command.

Jesus marveled at this. He said that my adherence to protocol was evidence of real faith. I think it’s funny but He made me an equal with the Israel patriarchs. My faith was now to be emulated by the Jews.

As a Roman centurion I knew I deserved nothing. Simply, Jesus spoke a command and when I returned home my servant was healed. I came and found him completely healthy.

“As the authority of the Caesars flowed through his own yielded life, so the authority of God over diseases, demons, and all else would flow through Christ’s.”

F.B. Meyer

“Christ will always accept the faith that puts its trust in Him.”

    Andrew Murray

Why, God Why?

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“Why have you made me your target?…Why do you hide your face?…Why should I struggle in vain?…Why does the Almighty not set times for judgment?…Why then did you bring me out of the womb?”

Job 7:20, 13:24, 9:29, 24:1, 10:18

Job’s profound suffering is one of the most extreme in all of human history. He is essentially a godly man who loses everything (except his faith). Job must pick up the pieces after “catastrophic ” sudden pain and total loss.

Only the brutality of the cross of Jesus eclipsed the suffering of Job.

Job is being tested with dark horrors. Will he “curse God and die” as his wife suggests? Will he cave in to the final four “friends” and accept their twisted theology? (I guess that you have to read chapters 38-39 to find out).

The Book of Job has been regarded as inaccessible and archaic by many.

Unfortunately, many believe this assessment and look elsewhere for comfort. I would agree that Job is a challenging book, but so is Macbeth or Plato. There are plenty of easier books to read; but if we choose to avoid Job, our faith will always be deficient. We will miss something vital.

Job is less an explanation and more a revelation of suffering. “Why” questions go unanswered. “Who” questions matter. I suppose this seems unfair to Job. It certainly seems so to me, but straight answers in a fallen world won’t get any traction at all.

One more thing. The Book of Job is about “twisted” theology. Job’s friends “toe-the-party-line” of theology that is logical. But don’t be mislead by their pronouncements, for they seem reasonable but they are all very much flawed.

I always find it strangely amusing when some quote Eliphaz or one of the other “friends” to encourage or comfort a suffering saint. They totally miss the point of the book. We desperately want to give out good counsel but we really don’t understand.

Very often their doctrine is a doctrine devoid of love.

“If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing.” 1 Cor. 13:2

You can’t split your theology from love and get away with it. Something toxic happens if you try.

When you read “Job’s friends” you must remember that. These are lessons it takes a long time to learn. Unless the Holy Spirit tutors you, be very slow to speak. (Job’s friends were at their best at the beginning when they said nothing at all.)

The broken believer, hobbled by chronic illness, has much to learn from Job. He is like “the poster child” for those afflicted. My own illnesses are always an issue of course, but God is fully in control. He brings beauty out of the ashes. He has been more than gracious.

In my pain I cling to this promise found in Isaiah 61.

“To bestow on them a crown of beauty
instead of ashes,
the oil of joy
instead of mourning,
and a garment of praise
instead of a spirit of despair.
They will be called oaks of righteousness,
a planting of the Lord
for the display of his splendor.”
Isaiah 61:3

“The moment an ill can be patiently handled, it is disarmed of its poison, though not of its pain.”
Henry Ward Beecher

When the Rooster Crows

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37 Peter said to him, “Lord, why can I not follow you now? I will lay down my life for you.” 

38 Jesus answered, “Will you lay down your life for me? Truly, truly, I say to you, the rooster will not crow till you have denied me three times.

John 13:37-38, ESV

Jesus had full knowledge of him, and yet, His love for him remained unwavering. Can one truly fathom the magnitude of this? In verse 37, Peter boldly declared his unwavering commitment to follow Jesus, even if it meant laying down his very life. I firmly believe in Peter’s sincerity and his readiness to follow through on his words, even if he had to die.

But Jesus bought none of it, He knew all about Peter.

He poses a question to Peter–the type of question that had to have penetrated Peter’s interior bravado. It’s said someplace that “the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.” Perhaps this is true here. But Jesus knew.

In contemplating the depth of understanding that someone truly possesses about us, it becomes a fascinating journey of knowing ourselves. How well does he truly know us? Is He aware of the moments of doubt that creep into our minds, the fears that grip our hearts, and the dreams we cherish in the depths of our souls?

It is as though he sees straight through our facades and masks, peering into the deepest recesses of our being, unearthing our vulnerabilities and laying them bare.

When he casts his gaze upon us, it is not merely a superficial glance. It’s a penetrating look that delves into the very essence of our existence. In those moments, it’s as though Jesus knows our every flaw and imperfection. We cannot hide from Him, for he perceives the intricate details of our lives with a clarity that surpasses even our own self-awareness.

He knows us.

Yet, in the midst of this profound understanding, Jesus’ love remains unwavering and unconditional. It’s a love that transcends our frailties and shortcomings. It extends beyond our misplaced zeal and faltering commitments. His love for us is not based on our performance or achievements but on the simple fact that we are his creation – flawed and imperfect, yet filled with potential and worth.

In His presence, we find solace and acceptance. We are reminded that we don’t have to strive to earn his love, for it is freely given. Our weaknesses do not diminish His heart, but rather, they provide an opportunity for his grace to shine through. It is in our moments of weakness that Jesus’ strength is made perfect, and His love becomes all the more real.

So, let us embrace the reality that we are known – truly known – by Someone who cares deeply for us. Let’s cast aside the illusion of perfection and allow ourselves to be seen in our sins and flaws. For it is in this authentic state that we can fully experience the depth of His love and find true healing and restoration.

As we journey through life, let’s grab a hold of the assurance that we are known by name, understood beyond measure, and loved unconditionally. And in that love, may we find the courage to embrace our true selves and live out our purpose with confidence and joy.

That both comforts and disturbs me, and I don’t really understand how or why He does it.

Have you heard the rooster?

Maybe that’s the way He’s going to teach you the depths of his love?

“God has paid us the intolerable compliment of loving us, in the deepest, most tragic, and most inexorable sense.”

    C.S. Lewis, The Problem of Pain