When you doubt "He lives"

Among the joys of the Easter season: a crocus,
simple but beautiful

She’d reached her end in trying to trust God--on Easter Sunday, too. And she was a missionary! But 62 years ago, Wilma Mathews, attending a service with a handful of Chinese, found she could not sing with the others, “He lives.” If He truly lived, why were they in such desperate straits? It was 1951, amidst ongoing hostilities in China. She and her husband Arthur, and little daughter, were caught deep inside China as other missionaries evacuated to safety. Local Communist officials clamped down on them, prohibiting travel and restricting their ability to secure enough food and fuel. They weren’t even allowed to talk with Chinese believers.

Back in her bare kitchen in the hovel where they lived, she remembered that in her things she still had a devotional tract by A.B. Simpson, “The ‘If’ in Your Life." She certainly had a big “if” in hers. “If” a letter had never come inviting them to minister in this far-away province, they never would have faced their current extreme deprivation. Finding the pamphlet, she read its lesson from the story of Lazarus dying. As Jesus came to Mary and Martha’s home, Martha greeted Him with that “if”: “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died” (John 11:21). In His omniscience, Jesus knew Lazarus was dying, yet He chose not to rush there. He let Lazarus die—He allowed the “if” to happen.

Simpson’s devotional continued: “I do not discount the ‘if’ in your life. No matter what it is….Come to the Lord with your ‘if,’ and let Him say to you what He said to Martha. He met her ‘if’ with His ‘if’! Said I not unto thee that IF thou wouldst believe, thou shouldest see the glory of God? The glory of God is to come out of the ‘if’ in your life.” Instead of putting a negative on that “if,” the pamphlet urged, take this perspective: “Nothing has ever come to me, nothing has ever gone from me, that I shall not be better for God by it….Face the ‘if’ in your life and say, For this I have Jesus.” (1)

We typically think only of Jesus’ resurrection in connection with Easter. But the miracle of Lazarus being brought back to life is also an Easter story. One is about God’s love in sending His only Son to die a horrific death in our place. The other is about His wisdom and power when our “ifs” blind us to His wisdom.

Like Martha, we may say, “Lord, why did you let my [parent/spouse/child/friend] die?” Or, “Lord, why did I lose [job/health/home/hope]?” I’ve been there. A few Easters, I was the one who could barely sing “He lives.” I believed it, intellectually. But I felt so overwhelmed by negative circumstances that I wondered if God really bring good out of them.

Like Martha, I needed my attention turned to the glory of God through all this. Years later, I can affirm He brought solutions, sometimes slowly, sometimes dramatically. Yes, we serve a risen Savior, powerful enough and loving enough to tenderly take our mournful “what-ifs” and turn them into a joyful “He did!”

(1) After two years, the Mathews were miraculously released. Their story is told in the classic missionary biography, Green Leaf in Drought, by Isobel Kuhn, published by OMF Books, 1958, 1981, p. 43.

Those five smooth stones

Details matter, like David choosing five stones for his sling from the nearby stream before facing the feared nine-feet-tall Philistine giant, Goliath. Only one was needed, when slung “in the name of the Lord Almighty, the God of the armies of Israel, whom you have defied” (1 Sam. 17:45). We even teach this familiar story in a children’s song: “And one little stone went into the sling and the sling went round and round…” Here the kids pantomime  the sling. “And the giant came tumbling down!”

What about the other stones? Would David have tried again? Would he have had enough time to sling another rock before the giant charged at him with that immense shaft with its 15-pound iron point (17:7)? Or was David counting on one stone for Goliath, and the rest for four other giants in the pack?

Although that passage doesn’t mention other giants in the enemy army, other scriptures tell of other huge warriors descended from Rapha, known as a tribe of huge men. Move over to 2 Samuel 21. By this time, Saul had died and David is king with his own warrior assistants in continuing wars against the pesky Philistines.

1. King David had gone down to help fight one particular battle, but became exhausted. One of those in the enemy camp determined to kill David was Ishbi-Benob. This man was “one of the descendants of Rapha, whose bronze spearhead weighed three hundred shekels and who was armed with a new sword” (v. 16). In weights we’re familiar with, that was about 7 ½ pounds, or half the size of Goliath’s. Abishai didn’t want his commander, King David, at risk, so killed Ishi-Benob himself.

2. In another battle, at Gob, a warrior named Sibbecai killed Saph, described as another descendant of Rapha (v. 18).

3. Then, while battling Philistines at Gob, “Elhanan son of Jaare-Oregim the Bethlehemite killed Goliath the Gittite, who had a spear with a shaft like a weaver’s rod” (v. 19). In a parallel passage in 1 Chronicles 20:5, we’re given clarification of this: “Elhanan son of Jair killed Lahmi, the brother of Goliath the Gittite, who had a spear with a shaft like a weaver’s rod.” The name “Goliath,” by the way, could be related to the Hebrew “golleh,” which means “an exile,” or from an Arabic root for “stout.”

Some folks quarrel over this verse, claiming the Bible can’t be true because one place it says David killed Goliath and another it says Elhanan did. Sorry, but they’re mistaken. David, when a young shepherd, killed Goliath near the valley of Elah, southwest of Jerusalem. Elhanan’s slaying of Goliath’s brother, on behalf of now-King David, was at Gob, believed to be northwest of Jerusalem.

4. Finally, 2 Samuel 21:20 tells of a huge man, unnamed but having six fingers on each hand and six toes on each foot. Jonathan son of Shimea (the Jonathan who was son of King Saul was dead by now) killed this one at Gath.

Maybe you’re thinking, “So much for history, but what does all this mean for me?” It’s this: spiritual giants still threaten. In his book Killing Giants, Pulling Thorns, Charles Swindoll names some of them: fear, bitterness, jealousy, lust, depression, loneliness, grief, pain, procrastination and rumor. Be assured: more lurk out there.  Swindoll's pastoral reminder: “Turn your Goliath over to Jehovah, the giant-killer.”

Named your giants? Ready to slay them in the power of God? He's mightier, you know.

That winter splinterland

Twigs and even huge chunks of limbs heavily littered our local orchards in recent weeks. Producing apples, cherries, pears and peaches (and other fruit crops) isn’t all about blooms and harvest. It’s also about maintenance, which includes what may appear to be pruning so heavy that someone like me (unschooled in orchard management) wonders if the pruned tree will even live. This also happens in the winter, before the sap runs. The pruners put in cold, hard days.

The sight reminded me of scriptural passages about pruning and spiritual growth. One is James 1:2-4 (NIV): “Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.”

A key word in that verse is “develops.” Spiritual maturity doesn’t drop into our lives overnight. We’re like orchards, needing pruning as we’re shaped into God’s optimum “fruit-producers.” The “perseverance” mentioned here isn’t the “grit-your-teeth-and-get-through-it” type of living, but a growing reliance on God’s faithfulness in life’s tough spots.

This process is called “spiritual formation,” for through spiritual pruning, Christ is formed in us. One key idea expressed in Klaus Issler’s book, Living into the Life of Jesus (IVP, 2012), is that this involves progressive steps. We’re not zapped with spiritual maturity overnight. As Issler describes the progression:

1. We begin by not seeing ourselves as having a spiritual problem

2. We become aware of our spiritual “gap” and are mulling over whether it’s really worth changing.

3. We’re willing to change, but wonder how. This idea of “depending on the Spirit” comes into play. We don’t know how to change, but He will guide us.

4. We commit to change. We may have setbacks, but we’re committed to keep going--with God’s help.

5. We see changes in our character.

6. We settle into a lifestyle with those changes. It’s easier to do what’s right.

One personal example was Issler’s problem with mild “road rage.” That included negative habits and language to express anger when things didn’t go as he wanted on the freeways of Los Angeles. (Personal note: I am a survivor of Los Angeles traffic, probably thanks to guardian angels galore!) After confessing that his problem of contempt for other drivers was a spiritual issue, he identified scriptures that addressed his problem. He then went into a season of letting God’s Spirit prompt him to respond peacefully every time a highway incident came up. Some months later, he realized a traffic situation no longer roused his anger.

Thankfully, spring follows winter. The blossoms come, and we’re reminded that the God who “prunes” us, sometimes severely, wants only His glorious best for us.

Divine fingerprints



One of last year's buttercup spots; the one
mentioned in this blog far surpassed this.

 Sometimes the love of God is very quiet, sent via sight, hearing, smell, taste, or touch. I think about that every spring as we watch for the first buttercup blooms. My late mother-in-law grew up in a hilly rural area where the tiny yellow blooms proliferate. She led a type of family competition to see who could find the first buttercup of spring. As she aged and was moved into town, we made sure the first buttercups were delivered to her. Even as dementia set in, the tiny blooms brought a twinkle to her eyes. But one sunny, early spring day, just a year and a half before her death, her son (my husband) wheeled her out to the car and settled her in for drive to the orchard hills of her childhood roots. Rounding one corner, they came upon a whole carpet of yellow blooms, like a hint of Heaven’s streets of gold.

“It was like a gift from God,” my husband recalled. “I had never seen such a display.”

I thought of that incident in reading Klaus Issler’s book, Living into the Life of Jesus (IVP, 2012, p. 102). In writing about how we respond to God, he encouraged being more attentive to “God’s love initiatives” toward us. These might include “sunshine that warms me in a special moment, the cheerful sound of birds singing in the morning when I need that encouragement, a beautiful sunset that overwhelms me, a specific word from a friend that goes deep and a hug from a friend that puts flesh on love.”

He said it’s like these lines from “Aurora Leigh” by Elizabeth Browning (1806-1861):
Earth’s crammed with heaven, And every common bush afire with God:
But only he who sees, takes off his shoes, The rest sit round it, and pluck blackberries.

Besides what’s taken in through our senses, God can speak through circumstances and relationships. Issler sensed God’s love initiatives, for example, in a friend who moved him from being a hand-shaker to a hugger. Another was in spending time with his toddler granddaughter.

Jesus often challenged His listeners, “He who has ears, let him hear.” It’s not just our ears that teach. All the senses, even that “extra sense,” can lead us to realize, “God passed by here.” It can even happen on a spring-warmed patch of soil, pushing out a golden carpet with a whispered, “I did this to bring you My pleasure.”

Crockpot spirituality

When commitments cram a day, I’m grateful for a kitchen appliance called the “crock-pot.” It’s the modern version of the kettle that sat over low embers all day. I cut some meat into fist-size or smaller pieces, then add chopped vegetables, a cup of water and a hearty shake of various spices. Lid on, dial turned to “low,” and eight to ten hours later the house is filled with pleasant, mouth-watering aromas.

The Christian life, I think, is much like that. When the apostle Peter summarized the development of Christian virtue (2 Peter 1:3-11), he used this phrase: “add to.” Like the ingredients mingling their flavors in my crock-pot, the components of godly character enhance one another. Bible teacher George McDonald, commenting on this passage, noted that a life of discipline is a common thread in spiritual growth: “There must be discipline in prayer…Bible study…the use of time…in curbing bodily appetites…in sacrificial living.” The end of all this is “that Christ will have the best of our lives.”

Peter’s “recipe” for godly living begins, of course, with the foundation of faith—for without faith in the living God, trying to achieve these graces on our own is destined for defeat. After faith come these (synonyms in parenthesis from the Amplified Bible):

*Virtue (excellence, resolution, Christian energy)—the desire to live wholly before a holy God.

*Knowledge (intelligence)—not satisfied with knowing the bare basics of the faith, but earnestly, like a dog gnawing on a bone, desiring to know more and more about God through His Word.

*Temperance (self-control)—willing to give up things we realize enslave us. (Think: what possession or activity absorbs your time and energy, even though it might be interfering with your growth in Christ?)

*Patience (steadfastness, endurance)—having a long fuse when provoked, giving up “rights” when the purposes of God are better served by deference.

*Godliness (piety)—known for conduct that truly reflects God.

*Brotherly kindness (affection)—truly caring about people in the full spectrum of their needs: physical, emotional, spiritual.

*Charity (Christian love)—Not the “valentine” type love, but the deep, God-sourced love that causes us to invest our time, treasures, and lives for others. It’s what the old apostle John characterized: “This is love, not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for ours sins” (1 John 4:10).

Peter adds that failure to develop these seven graces will result in barrenness, unfruitfulness, shortsightedness, blindness, and forgetfulness. To bring it back to the crock-pot analogy, it’s like never plugging the pot in. After time, the meat and veggies will rot and cause quite a stench.

I’d rather be a vessel holding good things. Appropriately, all those ingredients require heat (fiery times—see 1 Peter 4:12-13) to become a finished product. We’re to be crock-pots, not refrigerators!