lordship – Page 4 – Alaska Bible Teacher

The School of the Prophets

“For the Lord God does nothing without revealing his secret to his servants the prophets.”

Amos 3:7, ESV

The phrase “the School of the Prophets” has been identified as the ‘naioth’ or “dwellings” in Ramah in 1 Samuel 19:18-24 where the fellowship or “school of the prophets” assembled to worship, pray, and ask God for wisdom. The idea of ‘naioth’ described an idea of community. They seemed to live in a commune of sorts.

An older prophet became the teacher. They would be drilled into the Law. Much of the character of God was talked about, and this would become the core of these new prophets. They learned to seek His anointing, and also humility of heart and mind. The older prophet would emphasize these two things. He was understood as the foundation of any real ministry.

I wish there was more given to us.

We can only emphasize and extrapolate out of a few verses. Even so, I must believe that the Holy Spirit was profoundly involved in speaking deliberately and honestly to the nations of Judea and Israel. These prophets would be sent out into ministry as needed.

I believe that there were many who spoke the heart of God. And yes, there were the majors: Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, and Daniel. The minor prophets would carry a shorter ministry, at least in the written sense, but were not regarded as lesser ministries.

So what does this mean for you?

If your ministry is a specialized one, community becomes key. In this place you will learn about God, in a way that you’ll never ever learn on your own. A prophet is not a prophet unless he learns from a brother. When you fail (and you will) that dear-hearted brother will confront and teach you where you went wrong.

You must recognize the authority of God in the words of a true prophet. You must also understand the treacherous voice of the flesh and the demonic. You must discern, and as a believer that is paramount. You must listen, and hear the Voice of Jesus. “And many false prophets will appear and deceive many people.” Matthew 24:11.

We recognize you, and ask you to do your New Testament work. Yes, we will test you to determine if you’re real. We need you, but only if you are genuine. We demand authenticity. But please come and shape us into the image of our Lord Jesus. We wait humbly for your ministry.

Amen.

A Proper Steward of Your Pain

Some time ago I came across a story that connected. A visiting speaker stood in front of a congregation and shared a painful incident from his childhood. He wanted to bring healing. After he spoke, an elder came and spoke to him–

“You have learned how to become a proper steward of your pain.”

The visiting speaker was profoundly touched by this. Finally, something came together in his heart and soul. Yes, he did learn how to deal scripturally with those ugly things from his past. He was becoming a proper steward of his pain.

The word for steward in the original Greek is oikonomos. It literally means “a keeper of a home.” It describes a manager, a superintendent to whom the head of the house or proprietor has entrusted the management of his affairs, the diligent care of receipts and expenditures.

The issue for us is managing these awful things for the Kingdom of God.

No question about it, we live in a world of darkness. Each of us has been touched by hard things. Scars are part of our lives. When we come to Christ they come with us. All of these grim things are a real piece of us, we have been hurt (or maybe we’ve wounded others?)

Are you a good steward of who you are? Whether it’s a trauma, a physical, sexual, or perhaps a mental illness. It’s a scar you carry from your past, and no one is immune from them it seems. You’ll find freedom if you can use these things for Him and his Kingdom.

We must see and understand that Jesus has taken everything and redeemed it all for His glory.

He understands us fully–our past, present, and future. He ‘knows’ us–the real and hidden us. The challenge I suppose is to take these sad events to the throne. He alone can heal and then use that which has devastated us.

Satan has afflicted you in his dark attempt to destroy you.

Jesus intervenes to save. As we grow to accept this, the Holy Spirit comes as our comforter and guide. He starts to teach us true redemption, and the incredible healing that he brings with him. It really is his work, not ours. We finally understand. It’s then we become broken healers that God can use.

(Read how Joseph handled betrayal: Genesis 50:19-21.)

The light has truly overcome the dark.

We’re being taught (sometimes very slowly) to carry all of these things and plead the blood of Jesus over our past. He covers us completely. He has redeemed us. Luke 1:68 explains much clearer than I can:

“Blessed is the Lord, the God of Israel because he has visited and provided redemption for his people.”

Becoming a steward of our pain is his doing. We’re able to touch others with these things that would cripple and destroy others. He has made us “managers” of these things, and we are taught to teach others, declaring that God has completely saved us. He works miracles!

“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has passed away, and see, the new has come!”

2 Corinthians 5:17

We’ll sovereignly meet those who need to hear our story. We’re being transformed into authentic witnesses. Yes, at times these awful things still hurt, and I suppose that’s to be expected. But we’re learning to manage them. We’ve become real-life stewards of our pain.

“That’s why we can be so sure that every detail in our lives of love for God is worked into something good.”

Romans 8:28, Message

The Snare: Psalm 91

“Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High
will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.
²I will say of the Lord, “He is my refuge and my fortress,
my God, in whom I trust.”

Psalm 91:1-2, NIV

This psalm focuses on being intimate with our heavenly Father.

Throughout the entire chapter, we see personal pronouns used. In contrast to other psalms that are directed to the nation, this one is written to an individual. This personal focus makes this a favorite psalm for many.

Shelter and shadow, refuge and fortress.

These are the opening ‘word pictures’ and they’re used very adeptly. The psalmist writes what he knows, and it is apparent that he understands deeply the needs of the human spirit, and its protection. Each of these four words creates a common link between believers. Each of us needs a working understanding of all four protections.

I should ‘dwell’ in God’s sheltered care. All too often, I wander out past the security of the Lord (or maybe I’m lured out?) But there is safety in having God so close to us. His proximity is for my protection.

“Surely he will save you
    from the fowler’s snare
    and from the deadly pestilence.
⁴He will cover you with his feathers,
    and under his wings you will find refuge;
    his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.”

Psalm 91:3-4

V.v. 3-4, maintains its personal tone. ‘Save you’ (salvation) is far more than a theological term. The psalmist is not speaking ‘doctrine’ as much as the psalm describes a loving embrace. He is rescued from a deadly trap, and jumping from metaphor to metaphor, he engages our imaginations to ‘see’ God’s salvation. The writer knows his stuff.

The Lord is pictured as a protective bird that covers his chicks.

We have a sure confidence as we gather together in that warm and safe spot under His wing. Whatever is after us has to go through God first. His presence is formidable. In His company is found our only safety.

“What, then, shall we say in response to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? Who will bring any charge against those whom God has chosen? It is God who justifies.”

Romans 8:31, 33

All of heaven is rallying for your well-being. You are sure of this based on your faith in God’s own word. He has ‘busted us’ out of a dark cage, and now defends you against all your enemies.

And that is a very good thing.

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/bryan.lowe

The Church is Collecting Sinners

The following excerpt is from the devotional book, “Living the Message,” by Eugene H. Peterson. This pastor-professor is probably the person I want to grow up to be like; he has a gentleness and eloquence that is seldom seen–and highly respected.

Dr. Peterson died in 2018.

***********

“When Christian believers gather in churches, everything that can go wrong sooner or later does. Outsiders, on observing this, conclude there is nothing to this religious business, except perhaps, business…and a distant one at that. Insiders see it much differently.”

“Just as a hospital gathers the sick under one roof and labels them as such, the Church collects sinners.”

“Many people outside are just as sick as the ones inside, but their illnesses are either undiagnosed or disguised. It is similar with sinners outside the church.”

“One way to define spiritual life is getting so tired and fed up with yourself you go on to something better, which is following Jesus.”

Some other quotes by Eugene Peterson:

“All the persons of faith I know are sinners, doubters, uneven performers. We are secure not because we are sure of ourselves but because we trust that God is sure of us.”
“Suffering attracts fixers the way road-kills attract vultures.”
“When we sin and mess up our lives, we find that God doesn’t go off and leave us- he enters into our trouble and saves us.”
“That’s the whole spiritual life. It’s learning how to die. And as you learn how to die, you start losing all your illusions, and you start being capable now of true intimacy and love.”
“American religion is conspicuous for its messianically pretentious energy, its embarrassingly banal prose, and its impatiently hustling ambition.”

More Eugene Peterson Quotes…

Mixing Authority With His Mercy

“On the next day, when they had come down from the mountain, a great crowd met him. ³⁸And behold, a man from the crowd cried out, “Teacher, I beg you to look at my son, for he is my only child. ³⁹And behold, a spirit seizes him, and he suddenly cries out. It convulses him so that he foams at the mouth, and shatters him, and will hardly leave him. ⁴⁰And I begged your disciples to cast it out, but they could not.”

⁴¹Jesus answered, “O faithless and twisted generation, how long am I to be with you and bear with you? Bring your son here.” ⁴²While he was coming, the demon threw him to the ground and convulsed him. But Jesus rebuked the unclean spirit and healed the boy, and gave him back to his father.

⁴³And all were astonished at the majesty of God.”

Luke 9:37-43

All of this takes place immediately after Jesus’ transfiguration. He has shown Himself to be God, wrapped tightly into manhood–He’s fully and completely the Word made flesh. He is the Creator, and He is holding the universe together. Who really can fathom this?

Overflowing with immense strength, yet also enveloped in unfathomable kindness.

He meets this desperate man, a man who is carrying incredible weight, a burden that had taken over his life. Jesus steps into a theological circus, after all, the scribes had shown up, and the disciples were disputing with them. The terrible need of the demonized boy had been forgotten.

The disciples had tried to free him, they really had.

Let’s face it, between the gathering crowd and the arguing scribes, they were overwhelmed–completely out of their element. Defeated, they didn’t know what to do. (Isn’t this a description of much of today’s church?)

The father of the demonized boy was desperate. He watched the bizarre scene unfold with tears in his eyes, yet he knew he had no other answers. He despaired but continued to wait. What else could he do?

Sometimes we as the Church stress theological niceties, and look beyond the awful needs around us. We would rather debate than serve. We prefer to assert rather than meet the incredible pain around us. How sad is this? We constantly meet terrible pain, and we choose to reside in some strange theological bubble of our own making.

When Jesus comes down from glory on the mountain, He immediately faces off with a desperate man and a demonized son. This father is terribly overwhelmed–the disciples had made a try (or two or three) and yet couldn’t free the boy. The demons had ignored their efforts and laughed at attempts to free him. These particular demons decided to stay inside this boy. The disciples could do nothing about it.

But when Jesus shows up, all hell breaks loose. Literally.

There is amazing power here. Jesus, already shown to be God on the mountain top, now declares His authority over the ugliness of the darkness. He absolutely demolishes the works of Satan. He steps forward and they must retreat.

Jesus dismantles the evil and decisively frees the boy.

The passage ends with this, “And everyone was amazed by the greatness of God.” We can connect this power to what we observed on the mountain peak–His Words are strong enough to keep the world in its position! He is the All-Powerful One, full of intense mercy who has decided to walk by our side. He fights against darkness and liberates us. He loves us.

“But have we Holy Spirit power – power that restricts the devil’s power, pulls down strongholds and obtains promises? Daring delinquents will be damned if they are not delivered from the devil’s dominion. What has hell to fear other than a God-anointed, prayer-powered church?”

Leonard Ravenhill

Jesus Writes in the Dust

John 8:3-11

³Then the scribes and the Pharisees brought a woman caught in adultery, making her stand in the center. ⁴“Teacher,” they said to him, “this woman was caught in the act of committing adultery. ⁵In the law Moses commanded us to stone such women. So what do you say?” ⁶They asked this to trap him, in order that they might have evidence to accuse him.

Jesus stooped down and started writing on the ground with his finger. ⁷When they persisted in questioning him, he stood up and said to them, “The one without sin among you should be the first to throw a stone at her.” ⁸Then he stooped down again and continued writing on the ground. ⁹When they heard this, they left one by one, starting with the older men. Only he was left, with the woman in the center. ¹⁰When Jesus stood up, he said to her, “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?”

¹¹“No one, Lord,” she answered.

I remember how Jesus defended me from the religious men. I had been publically led through the crowds. The temple was filled with people who were there for the festival. It was a time of joy and feasting, but not for me. Definitely not for me.

The religious police escorted me to Jesus. I was now the focus of everyone’s attention. I felt dirty and ashamed. Standing there I could feel the leering looks from the Pharisees; but there was something else as well, a look from Jesus that I had never seen before. There was compassion there, something quite extraordinary. I saw a firm mercy.

I’m ashamed, but I had committed adultery. I slept with a man who wasn’t my husband.

I was to be stoned, to know hard rocks thrown by “holy” men. The Law had pronounced my guilt, and I knew exactly how I was to be punished. And I deserved it. Yet the man I slept with was never charged; he escaped, and I would be put to death. I didn’t blame him.

My shame was now public knowledge–everyone knew, the Pharisees made sure of that. Jesus had been accepted by some to be the Messiah and by others not so much. I wasn’t sure one way or another. I was in a daze, not able to even try to defend myself.

They only put me front and center to test Him. These men who brought me had ulterior motives, they desperately hoped Jesus would stumble. I think they wanted to prove once and all to the crowds that were watching that Jesus really wasn’t the Messiah. They tried to trap him.

Jesus realized the ugly implications of this satanic effort against Him.

Only Rome had the power of execution, and the Mosaic Law declared that I was to die. I stood waiting, expecting the worst. What else could I do?

It’s funny, but Jesus understood all of this. He looked right through this theological trick, and He responded in a way that really shocked everyone. He never spoke, but bowed low and began to write in the dirt with his finger. Amidst their vicious accusations, they pressed their case.

Jesus bent down again, and he wrote some more.

I never knew what he wrote–but I had to believe it must have been something about the sin of the men who were accusing me. At that moment, they dropped the case against me and left. They all filed out, one by one, in dramatic fashion. I now stood alone with Jesus.

Jesus looked directly at me. I was still afraid, but it was strange, I felt a wave of peace as well. I quietly waited, not knowing what He was going to say to me. I half expected the worst.

Yes, he did confront me. He wanted me to acknowledge that those accusing men had left. I saw it and understood. Jesus was asking me to believe that I was now really free. But then he wanted me to understand something that seemed quite crucial.

“Neither do I condemn you,” said Jesus. “Go, and from now on do not sin anymore.”

That dear one was a powerful moment. He set me free with the understanding that He did not condemn me. My new freedom came with a catch–sort of. I knew then that my sin must be renounced. My freedom came with a price. But knowing I was completely released, meant I was now a free woman.

At that moment I understood everything completely.

Straining at Your Oars

**“He saw the disciples straining at the oars because the wind was against them.”**

Mark 6:48

We must know that Jesus sees our labor and effort. He understands all that concerns us, and he perceives every issue that we take. Jesus is attentive and He comes to our little boat. It’s quite common for us to think that he isn’t really concerned, and we may feel that He’ll pass us by without a word. But that’s only from our own perspective.

Jesus watches over us, all the time.

He knows all about our battles, the terrible fight we have with our flesh, the profound difficulty we have with temptation and trials. He understands these things perfectly. I often struggle to steer my boat, but the winds and waves are hard. Jesus knows when and why I labor like I do. And He doesn’t condemn me.

The disciples were straining very hard to keep the boat afloat.

Every oar was being used and every man had his seat. Some were frantically bailing, and a couple tried muscling the tiller. A considerable effort was being expended. But the wind pushed even harder against them. This is perplexing. If you remember, they’re simply trying to obey the command of Jesus to cross the sea.

Why do things have to be so difficult?

I’m intrigued by preachers who preach sunshine, blue sky, and red roses because they are doing God’s will. They don’t seem to think through the issues of conflict and challenge–my own boat has been pounded by the storm, and it seems it’s always on the verge of taking water and sinking. Is it because I have no faith?

“It is necessary to go through many hardships to enter the kingdom of God.”

Acts 14:22

Often doing the will of God will mean a headwind blowing directly at us.

The seas will become impossible, and we may even be driven back. But special comfort comes when we realize we’re being watched and cared for. Jesus is in constant lookout and He sees our toil on the oars. He comes to us, walking on the water. He comes and brings us His peace and special comfort.

Even in our storm, our hearts can rejoice.

This is His fantastic and sure promise:

“Lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the age”

Matthew 28:20

20 Quotes for the Believer at Christmas

Some quotes on the meaning of Christmas:

He was created of a mother whom He created. He was carried by hands that He formed. He cried in the manger in wordless infancy, He the Word, without whom all human eloquence is mute.

–Augustine

There were many who saw the babe, but did not see the salvation.

–Author Unknown

For the Christ-child who comes is the Master of all; No palace too great, no cottage too small.

–Phillips Brooks

Rejoice, that the immortal God is born, so that mortal man may live in eternity.

–John Hus

His poverty was so great that He was born in another man’s house, and buried in another man’s tomb.

–John Boys

It is here, in the thing that happened at the first Christmas, that the most profound unfathomable depths of the Christian revelation lie. God became man; Nothing in fiction is so fantastic as this truth of the incarnation.

–J.I. Packer

Who can add to Christmas? The perfect motive is that God so loved the world. The perfect gift is that He gave His only Son. The only requirement is to believe in Him. The reward of faith is that you shall have everlasting life.

–Corrie Ten Boom

The Almighty appeared on earth as a helpless human baby, needing to be fed and changed and taught to talk like any other child. The more you think about it, the more staggering it gets. Nothing in fiction is so fantastic as this truth of the Incarnation.

— J.I. Packer

There were only a few shepherds at the first Bethlehem. The ox and the donkey understood more of the first Christmas than the high priests in Jerusalem. And it is the same today.

–Thomas Merton

Christmas is based on an exchange of gifts, the gift of God to man – His unspeakable gift of His Son, and the gift of man to God – when we present our bodies a living sacrifice.

–Vance Havner

The idea that there’s a force of love and logic behind the universe is overwhelming to start with, if you believe it. Actually, maybe even far-fetched to start with, but the idea that that same love and logic would choose to describe itself as a baby born in shit and straw and poverty is genius, and brings me to my knees, literally. To me, as a poet, I am just in awe of that. It makes some sort of poetic sense. It’s the thing that makes me a believer, though it didn’t dawn on me for many years.

–Bono

The central miracle asserted by Christians is the incarnation. They say that God became man.

— C.S. Lewis

Infinite, and an infant. Eternal, and yet born of a woman. Almighty, and yet hanging on a woman’s breast. Supporting a universe, and yet needing to be carried in a mother’s arms. King of angels, and yet the reputed son of Joseph. Heir of all things, and yet the carpenter’s despised son.

–Charles Spurgeon

Carols stir us. Holy words inspire us. The golden glow from the manger warms us. A little religion at Christmas is fine. But that glow in the manger comes from the Light of the world. It exposes evil and either redeems it or destroys it. The babe in the manger is far more than an object for sentimental sighs. He is the Son of God who must be accepted as ruler – or confronted as rival.

–John G. Stackhouse, Jr.

It is good to be children sometimes, and never better than at Christmas when its mighty Founder was a child Himself.

–Charles Dickens

Christmas is for children. But it is for grown-ups too. Even if it is a headache, a chore, and a nightmare, it is a period of necessary defrosting of chilled hidebound hearts.

–Lenora Mattingly Weber

Hark the herald angels sing,
Glory to the newborn king.”
Peace on earth, and mercy mild,
God and sinners reconciled.

–Charles Wesley

This Gospel anticipates a world far different from C.S. Lewis’s Narnia, where it is “always winter, and never Christmas.” The promise of the Gospel is that it is “always Christmas.” To be “in Christ” is to enjoy each morning as a Christmas morning with the family of God, celebrating the gift of God around the tree of life.

–Kevin VanHoozer

The spirit of Christmas needs to be superseded by the Spirit of Christ. The spirit of Christmas is annual; the Spirit of Christ is eternal. The spirit of Christmas is sentimental; the Spirit of Christ is supernatural. The spirit of Christmas is a human product; the Spirit of Christ is a divine person. That makes all the difference in the world.

–Stuart Briscoe

Here’s a side to the Christmas story that isn’t often told: Those soft little hands, fashioned by the Holy Spirit in Mary’s womb, were made so that nails might be driven through them. Those baby feet, pink and unable to walk, would one day walk up a dusty hill to be nailed to a cross. That sweet infant’s head with sparkling eyes and eager mouth was formed so that someday men might force a crown of thorns onto it. That tender body, warm and soft, wrapped in swaddling clothes, would one day be ripped open by a spear. Jesus was born to die.

–John MacArthur

Little Christs

“For a whole year they met with the church and taught a great many people. And in Antioch the disciples were first called Christians.”

Acts 11:26, ESV

Some have suggested that the word “Christian” (grk. christianos) was meant as a slur or insult. It meant little Christs, or mini-Christs. Perhaps that was the best the unbelievers came up with. They identified believers in Jesus and slapped a label on them that was supposed to mock and demean them.

But guess what? The early Christians loved it!

The disciples very quickly adopted it as a great explanation of their new identity. It became a badge of honor. The early Church of disciples became known as little Christs. This now identified them, and they wholeheartedly embraced this new nickname.

From all that I’ve read I see Antioch as a pretty interesting place. It was a city of almost 300,000 people and it had some major Roman temples, and amphitheatres. The city was fully entrenched in the economy and military of the empire. Antioch was regarded as the eastern capital of Rome.

After heavy persecution in Jerusalem, Christians moved north and made Antioch their home base.

This verse (Acts 11:26) tells us that Paul spent a considerable amount of time there teaching the church. After a generation or two, Ignatius of Antioch took over leadership of the Church. By 390 AD the city had almost 200,000 believers!

I’m not sure why, but the word “Christian” is only used 3x in the N.T. (Go figure?) Just maybe the letters of Paul and Peter predated the new label? IDK.

“Every Christian is to become a little Christ. The whole purpose of becoming a Christian is simply nothing else.”

C.S. Lewis

To be a mini-Christ is a pretty profound calling. I think of the 12 being sent out by Jesus to heal and announce the arrival of His kingdom in a new way. In essence they duplicated Jesus’ ministry. (Matthew 10:5.) The more we know Him, the more like Christ we become. (Matthew 11:29.)

Now don’t get me wrong, we are definitely NOT little gods. No way! We are simply broken people who battle sin and must be filled with the Holy Spirit constantly. (Acts 13:52.) In no way, shape, or form are we anything more than human.

And yet we also are little-Christs!

His Spirit comes when, in our neediness we make room for Him in our hearts and minds, and simply ask in faith. Your faith must be humble, and never ever, be proud or arrogant. We are called to reveal the heart of Jesus to an unbelieving world.

Persecution, in its different intensities, will also be present for mini-Christs. Jesus repeatedly warned us to expect it.

“I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.”

John 16:33, ESV

So where do we go from here? Mother Teresa once said, “Calcuttas are everywhere if only we have eyes to see. Find your Calcutta.” It’s probably closer than you’ve ever imagined. Open your eyes and receive the reality of being a little-Christ sent out into this world.

Just like Him.

Suffering Well

“Dear brothers and sisters, when troubles of any kind come your way, consider it an opportunity for great joy.”

“For you know that when your faith is tested, your endurance has a chance to grow. So let it grow, for when your endurance is fully developed, you will be perfect and complete, needing nothing.”

James 1:2-4, NLT

There are many different points where our Lord connects to us through our desperation. Our sorrow and confusion can be how God ‘wires us’ for additional contact— in some kind of weird and cosmic way, my pain becomes His ‘copper wire.’ Often is how He touches my heart as He flows through it.

I think it’s helpful to see our issues in this way.

There is a current that must work through us, making contact and ultimately creating a circuit. What I mean by this is that it seems we have to experience pain, in order to know His presence. Only if you know that a brother has struggled, do you become aware that a pearl of tremendous wisdom (and love) is now accompanying him. Usually.

We must be aware that our distress allows us access to His ‘careful’ grace. Our trials, properly received, endow us with special and supplemental power.

When it gets dark, light becomes exceptional. In a book by Stephen Lawhead, (I think it was “the Silver Hand.”) we see a man, the hero take up stones that have been infused with the creative power of the universe. Standing on the walls of a besieged stronghold, the desperate hero throws the stones down on the attackers. And as each stone smashes into the ground it releases a part of a song, which destroys the enemy and defeats those strong in the darkness. (Silly story.)

I know that His Spirit infuses Himself into our hearts.

He has imparted something in us that is both precious and powerful. He works through the pain and struggles that we encounter. These are terribly ugly, no question. But it is through these we plug into something real and eternal.

I suppose when the tragedy finally brings real life it’s a most precious thing. We treasure all this for it comes at such an exorbitant price.

Pain indeed has a purpose, but oh, so many times it seems to only hurt. But that’s the way it works.

But yet, that is our calling. I certainly know that life is seldom easy and our choices are even harder. I recently read that Queen Victoria, as just a teen fiercely opposed her future coronation as the sovereign of England. She grew sullen, and rebellious and would continually frustrate her teachers.

Once when Victoria was shown a lineage that showed her and revealed her place in England’s future as queen. She became uncharacteristically quiet and she responded with an astonishing simple awareness, “I will be good.” From that moment everything changed for her.

We want to avoid suffering, death, sin, ashes. But we live in a world crushed and broken and torn, a world God Himself visited to redeem. We receive his poured-out life, and being allowed the high privilege of suffering with Him, may then pour ourselves out for others.

Elizabeth Elliot