You have not chosen Me, but I have chosen you. John 15:16 NKJV
Only hours before His crucifixion Jesus looked around at the men who for three-and-a-half years had given up everything to follow Him and said, "It is not that you have chosen me, but that I have chosen you." This was not a statement minimizing their sacrifice but a truth to hold on to if they would weather the fast approaching storm.
Being chosen by Jesus, made them secure. Because He knew their past, nothing back there need haunt them. He saw it all from the beginning and chose them anyway. Because He knew their present, He was never surprised or disappointed by their weakness. He knew their problems better than they did and He chose them anyway. Because He knew their future, no sin they might commit, no failure, no laziness or anger or misconception on their part would ever make Him turn away. He knew these things from the beginning and He chose them anyway.
But there was more.
Being chosen meant that Jesus had a goal in mind for their life. They were chosen to bear fruit. They would never drift without purpose or direction. If in the future they felt their life was going nowhere or wondered about the meaning of it all, they could rest. He had picked them for a purpose and He will not let that purpose fall flat.
Yet, above the security and purpose involved in being chosen, there was one more privilege that outshone them all. Because they were chosen, they had direct access to God the Father. As the fruit of character and life grew inside them, they would know more what it meant to ask "in Jesus name." Using that name, they would ask and asking, they would receive.
Remembering that He had chosen them would provide security and courage in the dark hours just ahead. It was a solid rock in the coming storm. And, it can also be a rock for us. After all, we've been chosen, too.
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
Thursday, January 26, 2012
The Test for Loving God
If you love Me, keep My commandments.
John 14:15
The New Year is racing on with days flying and politicians talking about change. Maybe they are right. Change can be good. But when it comes to living the Christian life, some of the best habits are old ones. The best habit I ever developed came to me years ago through the ministry of a blue, plastic box and I hope it never changes.
I was at a point in my life when children and trouble finally sanded through my youthful veneer of Christian slogans. With tears and curses I concluded the Christian life was not just difficult; it was impossible. Sins kept sticking to me like globs of black tar. The situation might have proved desperate had it not been for a cheap, blue, plastic radio.
I can still hear them in my head: J. Vernon McGee; Theodore Epp, Billy Graham. They pointed the way to a clean life and I wanted desperately to follow. Although I was hundreds of miles from family, isolated in a farm house and surrounded by the boredom of babies and endless chores, the voices from the blue box offered something I desperately needed: hope.
One principle they taught was the art of daily cleansing. They said every night I should look back over that one day and identify each sin then confess it. The plan sounded easy enough. Sins weren’t hard to find. I was constantly losing my temper, swelling up with self-pity, resenting responsibilities, lying. The list was long and I wanted release but the first night I tried confession, I hit a snag.
There was no place in our tiny home for privacy! At last I settled on the bathroom. It was private, had a lock and if I worked the timing just right, no one missed me in the late afternoons.
One would think that hours of morbid introspection while kneeling by a bathtub would lead to depression and it might have if the voices coming from the radio hadn’t given guidelines that preserved sanity and kept me afloat.
First, they taught confession must be specific. If a sin had no name or I couldn’t give a concrete example of where I had committed it that day, guilt feelings were to be ignored. No floating guilt or general misery allowed.
Second, no sin was to be confessed twice. Once confessed, the subject must be dropped. Even if I had to confess the same sin a dozen times, each new confession must be connected to a new circumstance. No rehashing of past events once they had been placed at the feet of the Savior.
Third, they said I should never get off my knees without saying, “Thank You.” God promised to remove my sins as far as the East is from the West, No matter how I felt about the situation, I should trust Him to be faithful to His word.
At first the exercise was uncomfortable. It was like asking God to take out my daily garbage. But, I desperately wanted to be free so I kept coming back and falling by the edge of the tub.
Radio’s no longer come as large, blue plastic boxes; i-pods and digital broadcasting have changed the world. Still, I keep coming back to the simple system of daily confession and acceptance of forgiveness that I learned so long ago. It’s the only way I know to remain emotionally free. That’s a prize worth having. It’s also the best way to keep one of Jesus’ last directives, “If you love Me, keep my commandments.”
John 14:15
The New Year is racing on with days flying and politicians talking about change. Maybe they are right. Change can be good. But when it comes to living the Christian life, some of the best habits are old ones. The best habit I ever developed came to me years ago through the ministry of a blue, plastic box and I hope it never changes.
I was at a point in my life when children and trouble finally sanded through my youthful veneer of Christian slogans. With tears and curses I concluded the Christian life was not just difficult; it was impossible. Sins kept sticking to me like globs of black tar. The situation might have proved desperate had it not been for a cheap, blue, plastic radio.
I can still hear them in my head: J. Vernon McGee; Theodore Epp, Billy Graham. They pointed the way to a clean life and I wanted desperately to follow. Although I was hundreds of miles from family, isolated in a farm house and surrounded by the boredom of babies and endless chores, the voices from the blue box offered something I desperately needed: hope.
One principle they taught was the art of daily cleansing. They said every night I should look back over that one day and identify each sin then confess it. The plan sounded easy enough. Sins weren’t hard to find. I was constantly losing my temper, swelling up with self-pity, resenting responsibilities, lying. The list was long and I wanted release but the first night I tried confession, I hit a snag.
There was no place in our tiny home for privacy! At last I settled on the bathroom. It was private, had a lock and if I worked the timing just right, no one missed me in the late afternoons.
One would think that hours of morbid introspection while kneeling by a bathtub would lead to depression and it might have if the voices coming from the radio hadn’t given guidelines that preserved sanity and kept me afloat.
First, they taught confession must be specific. If a sin had no name or I couldn’t give a concrete example of where I had committed it that day, guilt feelings were to be ignored. No floating guilt or general misery allowed.
Second, no sin was to be confessed twice. Once confessed, the subject must be dropped. Even if I had to confess the same sin a dozen times, each new confession must be connected to a new circumstance. No rehashing of past events once they had been placed at the feet of the Savior.
Third, they said I should never get off my knees without saying, “Thank You.” God promised to remove my sins as far as the East is from the West, No matter how I felt about the situation, I should trust Him to be faithful to His word.
At first the exercise was uncomfortable. It was like asking God to take out my daily garbage. But, I desperately wanted to be free so I kept coming back and falling by the edge of the tub.
Radio’s no longer come as large, blue plastic boxes; i-pods and digital broadcasting have changed the world. Still, I keep coming back to the simple system of daily confession and acceptance of forgiveness that I learned so long ago. It’s the only way I know to remain emotionally free. That’s a prize worth having. It’s also the best way to keep one of Jesus’ last directives, “If you love Me, keep my commandments.”
Saturday, January 21, 2012
Never Alone
I will not leave you orphans, I will come to you. John 14:18 NKJV
Some writers have identified the torment of hell as total isolation. [1] Drifting forever completely cut off from others and from God. Alone. Always and forever, alone. Conversely, the promise of Jesus is to come to us [2] dwell with us [3] and never, never leave us alone. [4] His very name is Immanuel: God with us! [5]
The contrast between these two concepts is startling and given a choice we wonder why anyone would ever choose loneliness? But we do.
We choose to be alone when we disobey. Sin is like a dimmer switch. Slowly, one act of disobedience at a time, our awareness of God’s fades until we no longer sense His presence. We feel alone.
We choose to be alone when we let the busyness steal our time with Him. Life is a pressure cooker and clocks can be cruel task masters. Unless we intentionally plan time alone with God and discipline ourselves to keep that schedule, moments turn into days then weeks that we have spent no significant time with Him. We feel alone.
We choose to be alone when we refuse to be silent before Him. Because God is our source and our needs are many, too often we spend the precious moments with Him reciting a laundry list of complaints and requests. When we’ve check off the last item, we dust our hands and race back to life in the fast lane and wonder why we feel alone.
The good news is that our feelings to not shape reality; truth does. And, the truth is Jesus’ promise that He would not leave us. We do not face the world alone. Indeed, we do not face a single day or moment without Him. He has never left us orphans and never will.
[1] Randy Alcorn, Deadline. C.S. Lewis, The Great Divorce; [2] John 14:18; [3] Revelation 21:3; [4] Matthew 28:20; [5] Matthew 1:23
Some writers have identified the torment of hell as total isolation. [1] Drifting forever completely cut off from others and from God. Alone. Always and forever, alone. Conversely, the promise of Jesus is to come to us [2] dwell with us [3] and never, never leave us alone. [4] His very name is Immanuel: God with us! [5]
The contrast between these two concepts is startling and given a choice we wonder why anyone would ever choose loneliness? But we do.
We choose to be alone when we disobey. Sin is like a dimmer switch. Slowly, one act of disobedience at a time, our awareness of God’s fades until we no longer sense His presence. We feel alone.
We choose to be alone when we let the busyness steal our time with Him. Life is a pressure cooker and clocks can be cruel task masters. Unless we intentionally plan time alone with God and discipline ourselves to keep that schedule, moments turn into days then weeks that we have spent no significant time with Him. We feel alone.
We choose to be alone when we refuse to be silent before Him. Because God is our source and our needs are many, too often we spend the precious moments with Him reciting a laundry list of complaints and requests. When we’ve check off the last item, we dust our hands and race back to life in the fast lane and wonder why we feel alone.
The good news is that our feelings to not shape reality; truth does. And, the truth is Jesus’ promise that He would not leave us. We do not face the world alone. Indeed, we do not face a single day or moment without Him. He has never left us orphans and never will.
[1] Randy Alcorn, Deadline. C.S. Lewis, The Great Divorce; [2] John 14:18; [3] Revelation 21:3; [4] Matthew 28:20; [5] Matthew 1:23
Friday, January 13, 2012
Whatever?
Whatever you ask in My name I will do it that the Father may be glorified. John 14:13 (abridged)
Before He went away, Jesus gave the astounding promise that we could ask anything we wanted—anything—in His name and He would do it. He even told us why He would grant our desires; because doing so would glorify the Father.
I know very few Christians who have not puzzled over this verse and some have fallen as they claimed what they believe to be a clear promise from Jesus, yet did not receive the thing they asked. I certainly don’t have the complete answers to this mystery, but a small light began to glimmer when I read the verse using a different name for God.
Jesus said, “If you have seen me, you have seen the Father.” Looking at Jesus—knowing how He acted, what He said and how He felt—showed humanity the unseen God. It was probably the clearest picture of the Father He could give, but it wasn’t the only one. He also said “God is Spirit” [1] and later His closest earthly friend taught us, “God is love.” [2] All of these words and examples help us wrap our mind around a Being who is in truth beyond comprehension.
I don’t think we stretch the meaning of this verse too far when we insert other scriptural words for “Father.” Although the technique is not without limitation, the Father is God, and God is love. For better understanding, the verse might be read, Whatever you ask,…I will do it that Ultimate Love may be glorified.
How could prayer— especially “unanswered” prayer—glorify (exalt, lift up) Love? The scenarios are not as difficult to imagine as one might think.
We show (lift up) love’s patience [3] when we don’t immediately receive what we ask but keep believing. We experience love’s humility [3] when we ask rather than demand and leave the final decision to our God. We demonstrate the selfless nature of love when we allow His choice to be first [4] and love’s trust is displayed to angels, our own heart, and a doubting world [5] when we refuse to accuse God of being unfair [4] simply because we don’t understand.
John began his memories of Jesus’ last hours by saying, “Having love His own who were in the world, He [Jesus] loved them to the end.” [6] Love was the reason for Calvary [7] and ultimate, pure, perfect love is a reflection of the nature of God. When Jesus answers our requests, yes, God’s love for us is glorified (exalted, lifted up) and when He answers our requests, no or wait, our love for God is shown to a skeptical world.
[1] John 4:24; [2] I John 4:8; [3] I Corinthians 13:4; [4] I Corinthians 13:5; [5] I Corinthians 4:9; [6] John 13:1; [7] John 3:16
Before He went away, Jesus gave the astounding promise that we could ask anything we wanted—anything—in His name and He would do it. He even told us why He would grant our desires; because doing so would glorify the Father.
I know very few Christians who have not puzzled over this verse and some have fallen as they claimed what they believe to be a clear promise from Jesus, yet did not receive the thing they asked. I certainly don’t have the complete answers to this mystery, but a small light began to glimmer when I read the verse using a different name for God.
Jesus said, “If you have seen me, you have seen the Father.” Looking at Jesus—knowing how He acted, what He said and how He felt—showed humanity the unseen God. It was probably the clearest picture of the Father He could give, but it wasn’t the only one. He also said “God is Spirit” [1] and later His closest earthly friend taught us, “God is love.” [2] All of these words and examples help us wrap our mind around a Being who is in truth beyond comprehension.
I don’t think we stretch the meaning of this verse too far when we insert other scriptural words for “Father.” Although the technique is not without limitation, the Father is God, and God is love. For better understanding, the verse might be read, Whatever you ask,…I will do it that Ultimate Love may be glorified.
How could prayer— especially “unanswered” prayer—glorify (exalt, lift up) Love? The scenarios are not as difficult to imagine as one might think.
We show (lift up) love’s patience [3] when we don’t immediately receive what we ask but keep believing. We experience love’s humility [3] when we ask rather than demand and leave the final decision to our God. We demonstrate the selfless nature of love when we allow His choice to be first [4] and love’s trust is displayed to angels, our own heart, and a doubting world [5] when we refuse to accuse God of being unfair [4] simply because we don’t understand.
John began his memories of Jesus’ last hours by saying, “Having love His own who were in the world, He [Jesus] loved them to the end.” [6] Love was the reason for Calvary [7] and ultimate, pure, perfect love is a reflection of the nature of God. When Jesus answers our requests, yes, God’s love for us is glorified (exalted, lifted up) and when He answers our requests, no or wait, our love for God is shown to a skeptical world.
[1] John 4:24; [2] I John 4:8; [3] I Corinthians 13:4; [4] I Corinthians 13:5; [5] I Corinthians 4:9; [6] John 13:1; [7] John 3:16
Friday, January 6, 2012
The Untroubled Heart
Let not your hearts be troubled; you believe in God, believe also in Me. John 14:1
Last minute instructions. Goodbye endearments. Farewell speeches. Final words before death. We place a lot of value on what someone says in their last moments with us. The pressure of parting brings important things to the surface while the extraneous is stripped away and the few things we really want others to remember take center stage. Therefore, we shouldn’t be surprised that John spent almost one forth of his gospel [1] describing the last six hours Jesus spent with those he loved before crucifixion tore them apart.
From sundown until just after midnight, Jesus shared His last meal with the disciples and took a walk with them through a garden. He must have had much on His mind, but two themes that keep recurring in John’s record are assurance that He loved them and encouragement to trust God’s wisdom no matter how hopeless the situation might look from earth’s view.
From now through Easter, this blog will highlight scattered fragments of what Jesus said that night. I trust that by doing so, we can tune in on a little of the same encouragement He shared with them and our hope will grow one step stronger.
We start with today’s verse. Jesus looked at the confused, weary friends gathering around Him and said, “Let not your hearts be troubled.” He even repeated the words twice so He must have been especially intent on them getting the point. [2] They must never “let” their heart be troubled.
Have you ever wonder how we could possibly choose whether or not to be troubled? I always felt trouble came to find me and my choice had little to do with it. Yet, Jesus said we should not “let” our heart go that direction.
Part of the mystery resolves when we understand what Jesus meant by “troubled.” The word He used is not what we think of as concerned or even worried but to struggle with unsure connections; to be agitated, shifting, or rootless. We “let” ourselves be “troubled” when we have a choice of clinging to our trust in God’s character and power or letting our hand slip away as we grab for things of earth searching for security.
For example, we “let” our heart be troubled when financial pressures mount and we either ignore His instruction of good stewardship or thrash about for earthly solutions ignoring the fact that He owns the cattle on a thousand hills. We “let” our heart when we mentally strip God of any resource for “practical” help with daily issues. We can’t choose whether storms will come. We can’t choose which emotions we will or won’t feel. But we can choose our hope.
As we face a new year, listen to the news, grow a year older, watch the economy, or rehears the many ways things can grow wrong in life, don’t forget: You can “let” not your heart be troubled if you will choose to keep your eyes on Him.
[1] John 13:1-18:1 approximately 6 pm to midnight. [2] John 14:1; 14:27
Last minute instructions. Goodbye endearments. Farewell speeches. Final words before death. We place a lot of value on what someone says in their last moments with us. The pressure of parting brings important things to the surface while the extraneous is stripped away and the few things we really want others to remember take center stage. Therefore, we shouldn’t be surprised that John spent almost one forth of his gospel [1] describing the last six hours Jesus spent with those he loved before crucifixion tore them apart.
From sundown until just after midnight, Jesus shared His last meal with the disciples and took a walk with them through a garden. He must have had much on His mind, but two themes that keep recurring in John’s record are assurance that He loved them and encouragement to trust God’s wisdom no matter how hopeless the situation might look from earth’s view.
From now through Easter, this blog will highlight scattered fragments of what Jesus said that night. I trust that by doing so, we can tune in on a little of the same encouragement He shared with them and our hope will grow one step stronger.
We start with today’s verse. Jesus looked at the confused, weary friends gathering around Him and said, “Let not your hearts be troubled.” He even repeated the words twice so He must have been especially intent on them getting the point. [2] They must never “let” their heart be troubled.
Have you ever wonder how we could possibly choose whether or not to be troubled? I always felt trouble came to find me and my choice had little to do with it. Yet, Jesus said we should not “let” our heart go that direction.
Part of the mystery resolves when we understand what Jesus meant by “troubled.” The word He used is not what we think of as concerned or even worried but to struggle with unsure connections; to be agitated, shifting, or rootless. We “let” ourselves be “troubled” when we have a choice of clinging to our trust in God’s character and power or letting our hand slip away as we grab for things of earth searching for security.
For example, we “let” our heart be troubled when financial pressures mount and we either ignore His instruction of good stewardship or thrash about for earthly solutions ignoring the fact that He owns the cattle on a thousand hills. We “let” our heart when we mentally strip God of any resource for “practical” help with daily issues. We can’t choose whether storms will come. We can’t choose which emotions we will or won’t feel. But we can choose our hope.
As we face a new year, listen to the news, grow a year older, watch the economy, or rehears the many ways things can grow wrong in life, don’t forget: You can “let” not your heart be troubled if you will choose to keep your eyes on Him.
[1] John 13:1-18:1 approximately 6 pm to midnight. [2] John 14:1; 14:27
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
History of Christmas Lights
The people who sat in darkness saw a great light, / And upon those who sat in the region and shadow of death Light has dawned. Isaiah 9:2 & Matthew 4:16
It is not by accident that Christians celebrate the birth of Christ with lights. Since the moment angels appeared on Bethlehem hills announcing a Son was given to the world, lights piercing darkness have signified peace and joy and hope to a weary world.
The first celebration lights were probably simple oil lamps. We have no trustworthy records, but it is not beyond imagination that before candles or Christmas trees or cards or gift giving or even a day called “Christmas,” some early Christians remembered the birth of our Lord.
These would have been spontaneous, casual celebrations observed by individual families. As they remembered, it would be natural for them to watch a flickering oil lamp and think of the scripture promising when Messiah (Jesus) came, people who sit in darkness will see a great light.
Candles were in more or less common use by 800-900 AD and shortly after we find the first references to nativity scenes being placed in Christian houses of worship. These scenes would have glowed in the light of many candles. And--although the exact roots are lost in antiquity--it may have been roughly this time when Christmas began to be celebrated on a specific day.
Over time, being “Christian” became the socially acceptable norm and Christmas became a cultural event. Decorations were increasingly more common, expensive, complex and light-filled, causing some to feel the holiday had lost all true meaning. When Puritans took control of the English government in the mid 1600’s, lights, decorations and all other forms of celebration were banned. Christmas was to be no more.
Yet the celebration—with all its flaws—endured. When electric lights came on the scene in the late 1800’s they were almost immediately employed as part of Christmas. Lights proliferated until today when city streets and country lanes, windows, yards, rooftops and edges of buildings light up the night with twinkle and glow.
For myself, it would be easy to agree with the Puritans. I watch electronic reindeer nodding from store windows, see the crass commercialism and my heart fills with more sadness than holiday spirit. With the children grown and gone, some years I haven’t even put up a tree.
But this year, I think I have a better idea: I’ll dust off a string of colored lights, attach a little tinsel and a few ornaments to a tree, then turn out the lamps and remember. The light of the world has come. Regardless of how the world has perverted it, Christmas is real. It’s time to celebrate.
It is not by accident that Christians celebrate the birth of Christ with lights. Since the moment angels appeared on Bethlehem hills announcing a Son was given to the world, lights piercing darkness have signified peace and joy and hope to a weary world.
The first celebration lights were probably simple oil lamps. We have no trustworthy records, but it is not beyond imagination that before candles or Christmas trees or cards or gift giving or even a day called “Christmas,” some early Christians remembered the birth of our Lord.
These would have been spontaneous, casual celebrations observed by individual families. As they remembered, it would be natural for them to watch a flickering oil lamp and think of the scripture promising when Messiah (Jesus) came, people who sit in darkness will see a great light.
Candles were in more or less common use by 800-900 AD and shortly after we find the first references to nativity scenes being placed in Christian houses of worship. These scenes would have glowed in the light of many candles. And--although the exact roots are lost in antiquity--it may have been roughly this time when Christmas began to be celebrated on a specific day.
Over time, being “Christian” became the socially acceptable norm and Christmas became a cultural event. Decorations were increasingly more common, expensive, complex and light-filled, causing some to feel the holiday had lost all true meaning. When Puritans took control of the English government in the mid 1600’s, lights, decorations and all other forms of celebration were banned. Christmas was to be no more.
Yet the celebration—with all its flaws—endured. When electric lights came on the scene in the late 1800’s they were almost immediately employed as part of Christmas. Lights proliferated until today when city streets and country lanes, windows, yards, rooftops and edges of buildings light up the night with twinkle and glow.
For myself, it would be easy to agree with the Puritans. I watch electronic reindeer nodding from store windows, see the crass commercialism and my heart fills with more sadness than holiday spirit. With the children grown and gone, some years I haven’t even put up a tree.
But this year, I think I have a better idea: I’ll dust off a string of colored lights, attach a little tinsel and a few ornaments to a tree, then turn out the lamps and remember. The light of the world has come. Regardless of how the world has perverted it, Christmas is real. It’s time to celebrate.
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
Sing! Your Refuge Stands!
Let all who take refuge in You be glad; let them ever sing for joy! Psalm 5:11 NKJV
The word "refuge" speaks of trouble, danger and threat. If nothing negative is happening, the place we dwell may be comfortable but it won't be a "refuge."
The dictionary calls a refuge "anything or anyone which has recourse for aid, relief or escape." When we find refuge, the bad thing is still be there but doesn't impact us any longer. It is outside and our refuge forces it to stay there.
No wonder David said those who find refuge in the Lord should be glad. Our singing should go on and on forever! What better source for long term safety and lasting security than the eternal God of the Universe with whom is no variable or shadow of turning (Jas. 1:17). He is rock solid and He stays that way.
Christians don't deny the reality of trials. Bad things do, indeed, touch our life just as they touch others. The difference comes when we lift up our eyes to an eternal perspective and like David see the "latter end" of things (Psa. 73). Only then do we begin to feel how real our refuge is and only then can we smile.
Jesus is our recourse for aid now and most Christians can point to specific times when that aid came through just in time. He is our relief and we often feel the release as He takes the burdens and removes the weight from our heart. He is our escape as pressures mount and He will provide the ultimate escape as we leave this planet for our sure and final home.
If your day lacks joy, remember a time when He changed your circumstance, provided relief or you felt freedom as you leaned on Him. And, if you are walking through a current storm, lift up your eyes to the eternal. Knowing Jesus is our ultimate refuge and has promised to get us home safely before the dark.
The word "refuge" speaks of trouble, danger and threat. If nothing negative is happening, the place we dwell may be comfortable but it won't be a "refuge."
The dictionary calls a refuge "anything or anyone which has recourse for aid, relief or escape." When we find refuge, the bad thing is still be there but doesn't impact us any longer. It is outside and our refuge forces it to stay there.
No wonder David said those who find refuge in the Lord should be glad. Our singing should go on and on forever! What better source for long term safety and lasting security than the eternal God of the Universe with whom is no variable or shadow of turning (Jas. 1:17). He is rock solid and He stays that way.
Christians don't deny the reality of trials. Bad things do, indeed, touch our life just as they touch others. The difference comes when we lift up our eyes to an eternal perspective and like David see the "latter end" of things (Psa. 73). Only then do we begin to feel how real our refuge is and only then can we smile.
Jesus is our recourse for aid now and most Christians can point to specific times when that aid came through just in time. He is our relief and we often feel the release as He takes the burdens and removes the weight from our heart. He is our escape as pressures mount and He will provide the ultimate escape as we leave this planet for our sure and final home.
If your day lacks joy, remember a time when He changed your circumstance, provided relief or you felt freedom as you leaned on Him. And, if you are walking through a current storm, lift up your eyes to the eternal. Knowing Jesus is our ultimate refuge and has promised to get us home safely before the dark.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)