Verse of the Week...

He who hears, let him be found

with his face into the ground—

where repentance is found,

where Jesus is found

              ‘You Say,’ Shane and Shane


The posture of kneeling is not an uncommon practice globally, despite its relative rarity in Western society. This is especially the case with orthodox religious practice. Many faith systems call for the position out of reverence and submission, and in fact, each year during the Hajj, the Muslim pilgrimage to Mecca, one might see upwards of a million people at once bowing before Allah. I’ve only seen pictures, but it’s a staggering sight nonetheless.

For those unfamiliar, I grew up attending a smallish evangelical church, one which did not practice corporate kneeling during worship services. As one might imagine, then, the thought of bowing before God only surfaced when reading a Bible story or seeing someone do it on the evening news. It was a completely foreign concept, that is, until I truly became a child of the King. At that point I found myself, time and again, drawn to my knees. I couldn’t help it. My spirit, in worship, begged my flesh, ‘Get low before Him.’ Then, when attending corporate services, I couldn’t understand why it was left out.

The physical act of kneeling before God is profoundly impactful. It’s so markedly distinct from our common stance it’s as if manipulating one’s posture directly influences one’s soul. It’s incredible, really. If you don’t currently do it, I encourage you to give it a try—you may be floored (sorry, couldn’t resist) at the result.

But enough of the ‘what,’ let’s move on to the ‘why.’ As I mentioned, falling prostrate before God became for me, as it has for countless others, a position of worship. No doubt, a reverent heart has a way of drawing one down. But as life rolled on, and as I continued in my faith, I noticed another prompter of this posture: repentance. As I committed sin after sin, and my heart broke over my infidelity, my face fell into the ground, where repentance was found, where Jesus was found. That’s why the above lyrics rang so true upon their hearing. It’s no wonder Psalm 51 so magnetized my living room floor!

Reverence and repentance—the two predominant provokers of this most submissive stance—began to blend. That’s when I realized they’re largely one in the same. Think about it. Repentance is the turning of one’s heart from sin, to God, but in doing so, it’s also a unanimous acknowledgment of His holiness. Our waywardness has a way of making His transcendent perfection crystal clear. And so as we seek the forgiveness of our Father, we declare the majesty of His matchless worth. He is exalted (worshipped) in our utter dependence upon His pardon. That’s why I personally love getting on my knees. I find that only in doing so do I grasp the reality of my absolute need. I cling to Him, to His awe-striking grace, when my face is buried in the floor. And my tears of worship become my food.

One of my favorite stories in the Bible (most of them have a way of becoming favorites!) is depicted in 1 Kings 18:16-39. Take a minute to read it (italics mine).

Elijah on Mount Carmel

16 So Obadiah went to meet Ahab and told him, and Ahab went to meet Elijah. 17 When he saw Elijah, he said to him, "Is that you, you troubler of Israel?"

18 "I have not made trouble for Israel," Elijah replied. "But you and your father's family have. You have abandoned the LORD's commands and have followed the Baals. 19 Now summon the people from all over Israel to meet me on Mount Carmel. And bring the four hundred and fifty prophets of Baal and the four hundred prophets of Asherah, who eat at Jezebel's table."

20 So Ahab sent word throughout all Israel and assembled the prophets on Mount Carmel. 21 Elijah went before the people and said, "How long will you waver between two opinions? If the LORD is God, follow him; but if Baal is God, follow him."

But the people said nothing.

22 Then Elijah said to them, "I am the only one of the LORD's prophets left, but Baal has four hundred and fifty prophets. 23 Get two bulls for us. Let them choose one for themselves, and let them cut it into pieces and put it on the wood but not set fire to it. I will prepare the other bull and put it on the wood but not set fire to it. 24 Then you call on the name of your god, and I will call on the name of the LORD. The god who answers by fire—he is God."

Then all the people said, "What you say is good."

25 Elijah said to the prophets of Baal, "Choose one of the bulls and prepare it first, since there are so many of you. Call on the name of your god, but do not light the fire." 26 So they took the bull given them and prepared it.

Then they called on the name of Baal from morning till noon. "O Baal, answer us!" they shouted. But there was no response; no one answered. And they danced around the altar they had made.

27 At noon Elijah began to taunt them. "Shout louder!" he said. "Surely he is a god! Perhaps he is deep in thought, or busy, or traveling. Maybe he is sleeping and must be awakened." 28 So they shouted louder and slashed themselves with swords and spears, as was their custom, until their blood flowed. 29 Midday passed, and they continued their frantic prophesying until the time for the evening sacrifice. But there was no response, no one answered, no one paid attention.

30 Then Elijah said to all the people, "Come here to me." They came to him, and he repaired the altar of the LORD, which was in ruins. 31 Elijah took twelve stones, one for each of the tribes descended from Jacob, to whom the word of the LORD had come, saying, "Your name shall be Israel." 32 With the stones he built an altar in the name of the LORD, and he dug a trench around it large enough to hold two seahs [a] of seed. 33 He arranged the wood, cut the bull into pieces and laid it on the wood. Then he said to them, "Fill four large jars with water and pour it on the offering and on the wood."

34 "Do it again," he said, and they did it again.

"Do it a third time," he ordered, and they did it the third time. 35 The water ran down around the altar and even filled the trench.

36 At the time of sacrifice, the prophet Elijah stepped forward and prayed: "O LORD, God of Abraham, Isaac and Israel, let it be known today that you are God in Israel and that I am your servant and have done all these things at your command. 37 Answer me, O LORD, answer me, so these people will know that you, O LORD, are God, and that you are turning their hearts back again."

38 Then the fire of the LORD fell and burned up the sacrifice, the wood, the stones and the soil, and also licked up the water in the trench.

39 When all the people saw this, they fell prostrate and cried, "The LORD -he is God! The LORD -he is God!"


If you missed it, look again—the reverence of Israel’s acknowledgment that the LORD is God and the repentance of turning their hearts back to Him again, are closely related. And what did they call for? Faces into the ground.

Is yours a posture of pride and callousness? Or one of reverence and repentance? Go ahead, get down. Or keep getting down. There Jesus will be found.

Grace to you, to fall flat on your face for the sake of the King,

Voice of another

Verse of the Week...

As a father I’m afforded the joy of taking my daughter on a guided tour of life, revealing to her the beauty of creation, pointing out how things both tangible and abstract work, and why. In fact, it’s one of my favorite things to do. I consider it a privilege. I have the opportunity to showcase life to this ‘blank slate,’ through my eyes, assisting her to see what I see and, ultimately, to love what I love. I easily recall the stage when she was just emerging from babyhood and beginning to more fully perceive the world around her. One of the things I delighted pointing her attention towards was the moon. For one, it’s a physical sight to behold, sleek and mysterious in its midnight luminescence, captivating in its contrast with the black canopy of the night sky. And I relish its spiritual symbolism—it’s nothing more than a giant ball of dirt that, when aligned with the sun, reflects the radiance of its glory. Ask anyone who knows me—I have a thing for gazing upward at a moonlit sky.

One night, when the moon was particularly full and rich with white light, I knelt next to Annie and extended my arm, my index finger, like an arrow perfectly pointed at its target (I even squinted one eye to ensure the angle was precise!). There was no way she could miss it. ‘Annie, look! See where Daddy is pointing? Look at the beautiful moon!’ My rapt attention shifted from the vast heavens to my little girl. But as my eyes landed on her, I was startled at the sight: Annie was looking intently at my pointer finger, completely missing the brilliance of moment. What gripped her innocent mind was the thing nearest her line of sight and, unfortunately, as a result, the majesty of the moon was lost on her altogether.

So it often is with my faith. So often I lock in on the finger, the things of God, and entirely miss the Person they’re pointing towards. Perhaps you can relate?

The problem is we almost can’t help it. We’re ‘human,’ easily distracted, constantly bombarded with material stimuli. Rarely do we open our eyes to see and savor the immaterial. And so we, like little Annie, often only see what’s nearest our line of sight—in this case, the tangible blessings of God. Little do we realize what’s behind it all. See, God, in His perfect will, pours out blessing upon blessing, but for a distinct purpose: that we would perceive Him, the Giver, and give praise. HE wants to be beheld. The forgiveness, the grace, the mercies, the love, the peace, the hope, in a way, even the salvation, serve as a pointer finger. That’s the main intent of their outpouring.

Like I said, I regularly marvel at the things at the expense of their Supplier. And there’s no doubt, I’m the loser in the transaction. God is literally sparing nothing to captivate my heart, to help me behold the majesty of Himself, and I can’t see beyond a foot from my face. Is that you too?

Let’s quickly look at the Story of the Prodigal Son. I’ve referenced it before, but consider it again. The son demands his inheritance, leaves his father, and blows it all in unbridled revelry. He ends up destitute, sitting in slop, contemplating what a fool he’s been, what his father would think. But he literally has no choice, so he emerges from the mud and returns to his father’s wide-open arms. Unfazed by his former irreverence, the father covers him with his finest robe, puts a ring on his son’s finger and orders the choicest calf slaughtered for the celebration of his homecoming. Quite a story, huh? What forgiveness. What grace. What a moving display of unconditional love. For sure. But here’s my point: the point of the story is, what a father! What a father! And what a Father we have in heaven! His grace, his mercy, his love—they are amazing, indeed, but they exist to point to a Person! And the Person to whom they point passionately wants us to relate to Him, to commune with Him, and to only utilize the stuff of Him as a means to get to Him!

There is a Creator behind the creation, a Giver behind the grace, a Great Physician behind the healing, a Prince behind the peace, a Savior behind the salvation.

Oh that we would not be so childish as to miss the majesty of Him for the fondness of the finger.

Grace to you, to behold the Blessed behind the blessings,

Voice of another

Verse of the Week...

We live in a day of extremes, do we not? Never have the rich been comparatively richer, the poor, poorer, and the chasm between the educated and the ignorant continues to widen. The path of truth and its contesting counterpart, namely the reality of the day, continues to diverge, with the road of the former being far, far less traveled. Then there’s religion. Competing worldviews, or better, ‘godviews,’ cause friction to the point of death, between those dutifully yet tamely attending Sunday or Sabbath services and those strapping a bomb to their chest in the name of religious obedience. Indeed, extremism defines the times.

And what’s at the root of all the tension? What’s the thing so hotly contested by word, by creed, by action? Truth. It’s at the center. It always has been; it always will be. Throughout the ages people have debated it, fought for it (or at least about it), lived for it and died for it. Who is God? Who shall we worship? And how shall we worship? Who has got it right and who is outright misled? Though it first appears these questions have largely fallen by the wayside, it only takes a second glance to see that’s simply not the case. Relativism may reign, but it’s still very much a stance one takes on what’s true and what isn’t. To its adherents, what’s true is there is no truth; each is left to his own moral and spiritual compass. This is, obviously, itself a truism.

It is against this backdrop, then, that we live and move and breathe. And it is exactly within this climate that fundamentalism (in its broadest definition) is so radical. Makes sense, right?

So here’s my argument: though it’s portrayed in an almost exclusively negative light, religious extremism or fanaticism or fundamentalism or whatever you want to call it, has gotten a bad rap. That is, if you ask Jesus. See, He’s always prescribed to the notion of fanaticism: exercising uncommon faith in the great and small. And not a day went by when he didn’t preach fundamentalism: that He was the Way, the Truth and the Life, and that no one reaches the Father but by Him. The question surfaces, then, why do we look at suicide bombers and polygamists with such wonderment? Are they not merely endeavoring to be faithful followers of their respective religions? Though most would contend their methods are misguided, their fanaticism, their fundamentalism, is exactly the kind of faith God requests and requires of you and me.

To better illustrate, let’s look at the healing account in Acts 3-4. In it, Peter and John encounter a forty-year-old man, a beggar, crippled from birth. When he asks the apostles for cash, they give him none. But they do offer him everything they have: the healing power of Jesus Christ. At their command the man immediately rises to his feet and confidently, albeit clumsily, follows them into the temple courts for all to see…and savor. The fact that this notoriously broke and broken beggar is leaping for joy on able legs is lost on no one. The crowd marvels, even praises God. But leave it to the religious leaders of the day to step in and try to sabotage the moment, the miracle. They ask, ‘By what power or what name did you do this?’ (chapter 4, verse 7) By the way, the question insinuated that the power of God wasn’t the cause of the cure (after all, these ‘godly’ clergy weren’t healing cripples by the command of their voice). But here’s where the story reaches its climax. In this very instant, fundamental, radical faith takes center stage. Peter, the subject of perhaps the biggest spiritual trip-up recorded in the Bible (denying Jesus three times within a few hours, once in His immediate presence), answers. He answers well, with boldness and in truth:

“Rulers and elders of the people! (note the exclamation point!) If we are being called to account today for an act of kindness shown to a cripple and are asked how he was healed, then know this, you and all the people of Israel: It is by the Name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, whom you crucified but whom God raised from the dead, that this man stands before you healed. He [Jesus] is ‘the stone you builders rejected, which has become the capstone.’ Salvation is found in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given to men by which we must be saved.” (Acts 4:8-12)

You talk about an ‘in your face!’ And I’m not being trite. Peter, at great risk to his own well-being, emphatically condemns the religious leaders in his retort. He responds with strength, with zeal, but most importantly, in truth. There is no doubt here, Peter displays fanatical, yet fundamental faith. And God is glorified as a result.

It’s clear. God calls us to a faith that is staunch in its stance for truth (Truth). And think about why. If Peter were to have weakly or meekly replied to the underhanded accusation, if he hadn’t been able to find the words, or worse, denied his power source altogether, God would have been defamed. It would have been tragic. The onlookers would have walked away with less awe, with diminished hope. And the view of the absolute truth and might of the Almighty God would have been muddled, murky instead of magnificent.

God desires fanatical, fundamental faith because in it He is seen. In it He is savored. He requests this of His people. He requires this of His true people. And so we have the opportunity to answer life how Peter answered the Sanhedrin—with Spirit, and in truth.

After being released from jail Peter and John ‘went back to their own people and reported all that the chief priests and elders had said to them.’ (verse 23) Then they raised their voices together in prayer. Acts 4:31 is a poignant end to a purposeful story:

‘After they prayed, the place where they were meeting was shaken (shaken!). And they were all filled with the Holy Spirit and spoke the word of God boldly.’


Grace to you, to live a fanatical, yet fundamental faith, to the praise of His Name,

Voice of another

Verse of the Week...

11 "The multitude of your sacrifices—what are they to me?" says the LORD. "I have more than enough of burnt offerings, of rams and the fat of fattened animals; I have no pleasure in the blood of bulls and lambs and goats.

 12 When you come to appear before me, who has asked this of you, this trampling of my courts?

 13 Stop bringing meaningless offerings! Your incense is detestable to me. New Moons, Sabbaths and convocations—I cannot bear your evil assemblies.

 14 Your New Moon festivals and your appointed feasts my soul hates. They have become a burden to me; I am weary of bearing them.

--Isaiah 1:11-14

In most churches today, and in most Christian circles, doing good is the best thing anyone can do; following God’s guidelines, as offered in the Bible, is considered life’s most significant endeavor, and I would agree…to a point.

One widely agreed upon tenet is the act of giving, and particularly giving money to a church. In fact, the sermon I heard last Sunday was about tithing, an admittedly important topic to hit from the pulpit. The preacher, like none other I’ve ever witnessed, called the congregation to the carpet for its measly financial offerings. He asked, in so many words, ‘Are you tipping God, or tithing to Him?’ A good question no doubt.

Check out the verses above. It’s a quote, delivered through the lips of the prophet Isaiah, from the mouth of God. Apparently He was upset with His people. But why? At first glance, they were doing exactly what He commanded them to do: sacrificing their choicest animals, meeting in the Temple courts, honoring the Sabbath, participating in New Moon festivals. At first glance, they were steadfastly obedient. So what was with God’s displeasure? He commanded, they obeyed. What gives?

To put it simply, obedience, true obedience (obedience that pleases God), is a matter of the heart, not the head. Let me explain. God’s people knew exactly what He wanted them to do. The details of what to sacrifice and when, those were clearly recognized…and performed. But their heart wasn't in it. And it’s often the same today, is it not? Go to church on Sunday. Maybe even Wednesday. Read your Bible daily for 20 minutes…30 minutes if you really want to stand out. Give to the poor. Tithe your money. We’ve got it down, just like the ancient Israelites. But I ask you, as I examine myself, is God pleased with your offerings? Does He delight in your good deeds? I know we’d like to think so. After all, at least we’re doing something!

The truth is, God just may be tired of us, weary of our empty(?) rituals and offerings. See, to God, the aroma of our deeds, even the exact things He commands, can become odious depending on how or why we do them. If we ‘obey’ out of obligation, out of guilt, with an unengaged, resistant heart, we stir His disdain. And we don’t actually obey whatsoever. Remember, God detests the whitewashed tomb that can so easily be our life. Jesus’ harshest words were reserved for those who actually did the most ‘godly’ things. ‘These people honor me with their lips…but their HEARTS are far from me.’ See? Heart, not head. Relationship, not religion. There’s such a profound difference.

So, to the mirror I go. Do I do right? Do I perform with purpose? Honestly, and sadly, sometimes I don’t. Sometimes I'm compelled to go to church because of what others might think if I skip it. Sometimes I give because I know I should. Sometimes I do ‘good’ with no purity at all. And what does God think? Don’t do it. Stay home. Put your checkbook away. I don’t want your ‘offerings.’  Harsh? Maybe. But to God, the motive matters that much.

God loves a cheerful giver. Cheerful, as in, from the heart. I believe the opposite is true: God loathes a cheerless one. And have you ever thought about why? If we do this thing or that, and we do so out of ritual, with no heart, we dishonor Him. Basically, if we’re strong-armed into action, not compelled by love, we make Him, and a relationship with Him, appear unattractive, like He’s nothing but a distant taskmaster. Not the Lover of our souls who longs for our intimacy.

Think of your relationship with someone you love. Do you do kind things for them because you’re supposed to? Do you write them a sweet little note only because you ought? And if you did, what would that say about your relationship? About him or her? No, the manifestations of love flow freely from the heart, making their object feel prized, treasured like no other.  So it is, or is meant to be, with our good deeds, our offerings to the Creator of the universe.

Let’s tie this up.

‘If you love me, you will obey my commands.’ --John 14:15

Only if we truly love, will we truly obey.

The heart of the matter: it’s a matter of the heart.

Grace to you, to love Him, and only then obey,

Voice of another

Verse of the Week...

‘…Hate what is evil...’            -Romans 12:9

‘…let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles…’

-Hebrews 12:1

Here’s another opportunity for self-examination, which, if done with honesty and proper motivation, is the backbone of sanctification (making oneself virtuous or chaste, and thus set apart). And don’t doubt it for a second, God wants us to be different. Our overarching purpose is to point to Him (through our differences), to His praise.

Have you ever thought about your personal view of evil? Generally speaking, most would say it’s ‘bad,’ even ‘ugly.’ But have you ever sat down and truly analyzed your heart, and how it handles evil? Do you despise and detest it? Are you abhorred by it? Or, as I would propose is more likely the case (it probably is for me), would your approach to it be better characterized as ‘largely indifferent,’ or ‘mildly put off'? Though it may not appear at first glance to matter all that much, what or how we think of evil has major repercussions on how differently we live this life and if we honor God.

Before going any further, let’s at least loosely define what ‘evil’ is. Romans 12:9 infers that it’s the opposite of good. That’s close. However, the best (simplest) way to define evil is, ‘that which is counter to God.’ This is admittedly a broad description, but it needs to be. Certainly evil has its nuances, it can show itself in varied forms, but its crucial characteristic is its polar opposition to the Almighty God. It’s safe to say that’s all we really need to know about it. Oh, but evil is powerful, much more so than you and me left to ourselves (which, thank God we’re not). After all, who is evil’s chief executer but Satan himself. He prowls around like a roaring lion, looking to devour (1 Peter 5:8). Given this, and given the definition above (that it's inherently counter to God), our approach and/or response to it should be clear: resist it, run from it, treat it like the plague. Because to our soul, that’s exactly what it is.

Back to Romans 12:9. Paul doesn’t mince words. ‘HATE what is evil…’ Growing up reading this, I always thought, Isn’t ‘hate’ evil in itself? Simply, nope, it’s not. You’ve heard of righteous anger (think Jesus overturning the money-changing tables in the Temple), when it comes to evil, get used to the idea of righteous hate. Despise evil. Detest it. Abhor it. Why such a strong response? Again, it wreaks havoc on our soul, and more, that’s how God Himself sees it and deals with it. He is holy, pristine, perfectly pure; due to His nature, He literally cannot be around it or look upon it (two quick examples: flinging Lucifer and his fellow tainted angels from His presence; turning the sky dark when Jesus actually became our sin while on the cross).

Paul was on the same page with God. We would do well to be the same. Hate that which is evil—not the person, if that’s where it’s found, but the very evil itself. This sounds a bit wild, but if we were to grow in our hatred of evil, we would grow in our desire to abstain from it. Truly, then, the fuel of sanctification is, in part, the outright repugnance of evil. It at least contributes to the motivation to ‘throw off that which hinders, the sin that so easily entangles.’ If it’s so repulsive, cast it off, get rid of it, get away from it, run away from it, and fast.

Would you examine your heart with me on this? Do you loathe evil? Or do merely dislike it? It matters. And what do we do if evil is, on occasion, a friend? Pray. Pray that God would give you a heart like His, one that cannot stand even a whiff of its stench. And plead with the Holy Spirit to precisely align your affections with your Maker’s.

There is a dance being done here. As our disdain strengthens for that which is dark, we become, more and more, lovers of the Light. But more on that later…

Grace to you, to see evil for the God-defaming abomination it is…and stiff-arm it,

Voice of another

Verse of the Week...

You are worthy of affection

You’re the radiance of all of His glory

Let adoration fill this place

You hold everything together

By the word of Your immovable power

We sing a song of praise

                                    --Shane & Shane

Perhaps the chief flaw of society today is inaccurate value assessment. If that sounds odd or unclear, let me explain. The behaviors of our life necessarily convey the assigned value we give to this or that thing or person. Better, what we do, or don’t do, screams what we deem worthy, and conversely, that which lacks. So for some, doing whatever it takes to get a desired promotion at work—arriving early, staying late, maybe even slandering the guy or gal who’s a threat—evidences the unparalleled worth of career success. For others, a reunion with loved ones is cause for unrivaled excitement, showcasing the uncontested place of family in their life. The point is this: where our heart is, there is our treasure found. And like I first mentioned, unfortunately each of us are easily in the business of disproportionately valuing that which is here one moment, and gone the very next.

That’s the appropriate way to put it. It’s not that we assign worth to things that have absolutely none, it’s just that we give those things a disproportionate measure. Take work for example. Most of us are pretty tied up in it. We do it a lot (easily the majority of our waking life!). We often think about it when we’re not doing it. Sometimes we can’t even sleep because of it. And why? Because of what it gives us—power, prestige, a sense of accomplishment—or better, gets us—money, the capacity to purchase life’s luxuries. And because we value these things so greatly, often over and above everything else, our obsession is justified. Right?!

Another example of something we unduly weight with worth is family. That’s right, I said it. Though it’s undeniably one of life’s sweet gifts, for many it assumes a place of unsurpassed prominence. To these, nothing matters more. Nothing. Ticky-tack family squabbles, then, are monumental conflicts, and the dissolution of familial relationships? Quite literally, the end of the world. Everything in life, every decision, every action, every affection, every allegiance, revolves around family. It reigns undisputedly.

Now let me quickly reiterate that family, relationships, work, money, and the like do have value. They undoubtedly have worth. Just not nearly as much as we’re so prone to assign them. And this is exactly where we get off track, because when we overvalue certain things (the things of this world) we necessarily undervalue that which is of supreme worth, namely God. Sounds ‘churchy,’ doesn’t it? Like I get that God is God, and going to church and being ‘religious’ are virtuous endeavors, but really, what does that look like in the day to day? Shall I sew myself a burlap tunic and hit up the nearest monastery? How is treating Him as life’s ultimate treasure remotely practical? Answering these questions would be at least a start; most never get to asking.

If you get the chance, read Psalm 96. You could read a hundred others, but find this one in particular. Here are the first nine verses:

Oh sing to the LORD a new song; sing to the LORD all the earth! Sing to the LORD, bless His name; tell of His salvation from day to day. Declare His glory among the nations, His marvelous works among the peoples! For great is the LORD, and greatly to be praised; He is to be feared above all gods. For all the gods of the peoples are worthless idols, but the LORD made the heavens.

Splendor and majesty are before Him; strength and beauty are in His sanctuary.

Ascribe to the LORD, O families of the peoples, ascribe to the LORD glory and strength! Ascribe to the LORD the glory due His name; bring an offering and come into His courts. Worship the LORD in the splendor of holiness; tremble before Him, all the earth!

Each of us, meaning all of us, were created with an affectionate heart. We cannot, therefore, help but give affection; we cannot help but worship. But if we’re appropriately divvying our affections, the most and the strongest of them are landing at the feet of the Creator, not at the things He created, as good as some of them are.

This is the crux of life, the precise crosshairs of where we either ‘get it,’ or miss the mark entirely. God knew what He was doing beginning the Ten Commandments with the first: ‘You shall have no other gods before Me.’ It’s simple, to the point, but profoundly underscores our (the world’s) biggest issue. Who, or what, gets the throne in our life? Look no further than that which we value most. Look no further than that which enraptures our heart.

Join me, will you? Let us honestly examine our heart and ask, ‘Where lie my deepest affections? What do my actions say is most worthy to me? What does my time tell is most valuable?’

One last point. Our heart loves that which it knows well. The degree to which we know God directly affects the degree to which we love and worship Him. If we know little of His greatness, little of His works, if we’ve hardly experienced the sweetness of communion with Him, He will appear largely unworthy of our deepest affections. And we’ll live accordingly. But that will be a grossly mistaken perception. Conversely, if we read His word, if we hear of His great works and through them begin to understand what He’s done for us, and more, who He is, what starts as a flutter in our heart will erupt into unadulterated praise. And that will spill over into every area of life--work, family, whatever else.

And only then will everything be all right, how He created it to be: with Himself at the center, and nothing and no one else.

Oh matchlessly worthy LORD, open our eyes to see You, to see You for who You are. Draw us near; let us experience You, that we would be lovesick over You, and only You. Amen.

Grace to you, to see and savor Him,

Voice of another

Verse of the Week...

‘Everyone who competes in the games goes into strict training. They do it to get a crown that will not last; but we do it to get a crown that lasts forever.’ 1 Corinthians 9:25

For whatever reason I’ve felt compelled of late to plan my own funeral. Seriously. I’m not quite certain if this means anything about my immediate fate or, perhaps more, the state of my head, but nonetheless it’s an endeavor I have an urge to complete. I want to be ready, prepared for when my last breath is breathed. So I’ve started to think about what songs will make the playlist and what the main message will convey in the farewell letter I wish to write.

All this, then, got me to thinking about what I was actually setting out to do: prepare for death. Or at least prepare for the ceremony commemorating it. My mind quickly settled on the potential folly of such a task, especially considering how ill-prepared I am for life, for the battle that is being waged, and most importantly, for the eternal life just down the road.

The Apostle Paul urges us to train, to be intentional in our preparation. The analogy he uses carries much weight. Athletes beat their bodies in order to compete and succeed in the arena, and they do so for the prospects of fading rewards: fame, notoriety, maybe a shiny piece of metal. In a similar way, followers of Jesus are to compete in the battle that is this life, which perpetually pits good against evil. They are to beat their flesh into submission, that their life would be effective, fruitful, lived by the Spirit, and this, for an eternal prize that will not spoil or fade.

The greatest enemy of preparation is unintentionality (that isn’t technically a word according to Webster, but it’s prominently listed in Ben’s Dictionary). Just a verse later Paul says, ‘Therefore I do not run like a man running aimlessly; I do not fight like a man beating the air.’ (1 Corinthians 9:26) In other words, because of the everlasting nature of the reward at stake he will not live without purpose, he will not fail to prepare (and in doing so prepare to fail!). And let me add, he will not prepare willy-nilly or, pardon my French, half-assed. Quite the contrary. Verse 27: ‘No, I beat my body and make it my slave…’ To Paul, this is serious business (eternal life, remember?). Only a fool would take it lightly.

It’s no news that this life can lull you into overvaluing, and thus pursuing, that which ultimately does not matter. And it’s certainly easy to run through it at times aimlessly, without intention. But maybe that’s all the more cause for a brief pause, to slow the spinning down so we can think about what we’re doing and what does matter. God meant this life as a training ground or ‘training camp,’ if you will. The real season, the one that’s forever, is right around the corner and, if you’re anything like me, you’re maybe not in the best spiritual shape. Again, all the more reason to hit two-a-days hard, to proactively (purposely) put our faith through the flames, that it might come out refined…and ready.

None of us know the exact duration of ‘the games’ or when our individual camp is scheduled to conclude, so we can’t afford to procrastinate. The end of this life is coming; will we be ready to put on our long, white robe?

If you’re wondering, I am going to continue to plan and make preparations for my funeral…just not at the expense of doing so for my life (and the prize).

May God grant you grace and peace as you prepare,

Voice of another