Month: January 2017

Once there was a man going about his daily life, minding his own business, when life attacked him. It stripped him of everything that protected him, of his honor, took what was valuable to him, beat him up and left him for dead. Life couldn’t care less what happened to him.

Friends, family, fellow church members saw the man was in distress. Some of them avoided him completely. Others took a look and said, “Nope, that’s too messed up for me. Not my problem,” and walked away. The man was left alone, helpless, ashamed, unable to take another step.

You’ve probably heard a different version of this story, the one told by Jesus in Luke 10:30-35. When I think about that story in relation to my life, I’ve always viewed it as a warning to act like the Good Samaritan, who in spite of the barriers that should divide them, responds with mercy to the traveler’s needs. But I’m learning to look at it from a new perspective.

I am the man.

Then Jesus comes along. He invites us to show Him what is hurt, what is broken, to lament for our losses. He listens. He knows our sorrows and is acquainted with our grief. He encourages us to show Him the festering wounds we are so ashamed of and try to keep hidden. Then He asks, “Will you let me make it better?”

Sometimes we’re so familiar with the pain, we’re afraid to let it go.  When we accept God’s invitation, He treats us with compassion and tenderly cleanses us. Sometimes the scab, what is hard and dead, must be removed so the Blood can flow through. If the wound isn’t cleaned, the dirt will keep us from being fully healed. He knows it hurts. And He knows it has to be done. When we’re at our limit, He says, “Just a little farther. I know this has been hard. Just a little bit more.”

He stays with us while we get better, tending the wounds, changing the dressings. Wincing with us and saying, “Look at me. Just keep your eyes focused on me while I do what needs to be done.” We can draw strength from Him, from His calmness, His peace.  He leads us to rest.

He pays the price for our recovery, and promises that He will pay every debt that we incur along the way. He rejoices with us when are better and can get up and live fully again. He also promises that He is coming back again, and when He does, He’ll settle accounts and put everything to rights.

My dad is a Folgers’ man.  He’s the kind of guy who is best given a wide berth until he’s had several cups of coffee.  When I was a kid, it was often my job to bring him that first cup.  Knowing how much he needed the caffeine, I would fill that cup as close to the top as I could.  Then I would walk, ever so carefully, from the kitchen to the living room, eyes glued on the sloshing liquid, worried it would overflow and burn my hand.

How often are our lives like that cup of coffee, so jam-packed that we walk a tightrope struggling to keep it all together?

The lie of a careful life is the illusion of control.  If we just make good choices, if we just do A, B or C, we can ensure we’ll have a happy little life.  Then no sorrow or hardship will come our way.  We’ll be safe.  But if we believe our good choices can save us from the sorrows and trials of life, we’re buying a gospel of works.  There’s no good news in that because our experience testifies that it just isn’t true.  Our good choices can’t save us.  Awful, terrible, unfair things happen to unsuspecting, undeserving people.   Life overflows for all of us.

Recently, we hosted a party.  Eleven kids ran riot through the house. It was loud and it was wonderful.  After everyone went home, the guest toilet overflowed. Water (thankfully clean water!) seeped over the rim and quickly spread over the floor. Turns out one of the guests had dropped a glow stick into the toilet and tried to flush it away.  Turns out a glow stick is more than our plumbing can handle.

The glow stick. That one more thing that’s more than we can handle and causes us to overflow, to drop it all, to recognize that we’re never going to have enough to keep it all together because we weren’t meant to do life on our own. God will give us more than we can handle so we recognize we need Him.

No, a well-managed life is not what God intends for us.  He invites us to live large through trust in Him.  As we do, we are stretched. We are pulled out of our original shape. Our hearts expand.  And God pours into our lives, filling us. Not just half way or most of the way, but all the way to the brim and over it.

I will open the windows of heaven for you. I will pour out a blessing so great you won’t have enough room to take it in! Try it! Put me to the test!

Malachi 3:10 (emphasis added)

Enlarge your house; build an addition; spread out your home!  For you will soon be bursting at the seams.

Isaiah 54:2-3 (emphasis added)

I pray that God, the source of hope, will fill you completely with joy and peace because you trust in him. Then you will overflow with confident hope through the power of the Holy Spirit.

Romans 15:13 (emphasis added)

God can always point to us as examples of the incredible wealth of his favor and kindness toward us, as shown in all that he has done for us through Christ Jesus.

Ephesians 2:7 (emphasis added)

My purpose is to give life in all its fullness.

John 10:10 (emphasis added)

Do you see it?  His desire for us is His abundance,  not our carefully managed control.  Jesus came to give us life that is wide, expansive, full, and complete.  God desires to pour so much into our lives that we can’t handle it all and we overflow with His abundant goodness.