What are some environments where it’s okay to be loud? And I mean, really loud?
Playing outside? At a sporting event (but not golf because golfers can’t handle it)? Cheering like crazy at the end of a Broadway performance?
What about the reverse? Where would it not be appropriate to be loud?
Church? A wedding? A funeral? In the conference room as executives pore over every legal phrase before signing the papers to finalize a merger?
Volume matters, and tends to adjust based on environment. This is why nobody sneaks up behind a surgeon in the middle of a tense procedure and screams in her ear.
What if the very thing that turns people away from the Lord was what brings them back to the Lord?
The prodigal son leaves the Father to chase the freedom to indulge only to find the emptiness that indulgence ultimately leads to (the story is found in Luke 15).
Rebels board boats to get as far away as possible from the call of God on their lives, only to have that same boat bring them back after years of captivity (check out Jonah 1:3 and then read Isaiah 60:9).
Could it be that a generation that seems to be turning away from God because of the powerlessness they see in believers could be brought back to God because of a demonstration of God’s power through believers?
Not only do I believe it’s possible; I believe the Bible commands it.
Elijah said that it was the fire on the altar that would identify the ONE TRUE GOD (1 Kings 18:24).
Yahweh wasn’t the only named God—there were hundreds of gods in that day—but he was the only LIVING God, and only a living God can answer the cries of his people.
Paul knew that it was the power of God that would draw people to the salvation of God. In 1 Corinthians 2:4-5, he made the clear choice to demonstrate the Spirit’s power more than his giftedness.
For too long, we have said too much about God’s power and shown too little of it, and the great desertion of so many people from the church has often been in direct response to that gap between words and actions.
In her book, Wounded by God’s People, Anne Graham Lotz wrote about how her hunger for the Lord waned during a two-week Christian leadership retreat she attended as a teen. “I became increasingly skeptical of what I was being exposed to—not because there was anything unbiblical about it, but because of the disconnect between what the staff taught and I observed in their behavior.” (emphasis added)
In a debate on whether God exists that I watched recently between a Christian and an atheist, the atheist supposed that there was no way for a Christian to show that his God was the only true God. When he said it, I thought of Elijah, Paul, and people too numerous to count throughout every generation who would have simply said, “Just watch. Fire is coming, and the fire you thought you didn’t need will be the very thing that brings you to your knees.”
Do it again, Lord.
Lord, I have heard the report about you; Lord, I stand in awe of your deeds. Revive your work in these years; make it known in these years. In your wrath remember mercy! (Habakkuk 3:2)
It isn’t from writer’s block, but more of a “I’ve got a million thoughts in my head, but don’t know how to get any of them out” thing. Clarity one minute, and a fog the next.
Ever been there? Maybe it’s because I’m processing what God just did during our church’s ENCOUNTER 23 event, but I think it’s even deeper than that. I think (you’ll notice I’m using that word a lot) that this is actually what it’s like to follow the ways of Jesus in a world that isn’t.
This is part of what it looks like to grow up in our faith. Many of us have believed the lie that a mature faith is one that knows more about the faith, but a better definition would be one that trusts more in the Father of the faith.
Trust implies not fully understanding, and that’s something that a lot of us can struggle with. Look at what Paul wrote to the believers in Corinth:
When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put the ways of childhood behind me. For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known. (1 Corinthians 13:11-12, emphasis mine)
Clearly, Paul is explaining a growth process in our faith that mirrors how we mature in the natural. We grow up and stop talking and thinking like children. But then he tells us what we can expect now versus what we’ll experience later.
Now I see partially; then I’ll see the full. Now I know parts; then I’ll know fully.
But look at the last phrase…
“Even as I am fully known.”
In this world that so often feels like walking through the fog toward a destination we’ve never really seen, it’s possible to be fully known. But it isn’t possible to know God fully. Here we can only know in part, even though here we can be fully known.
Why does that matter? It matters because too many times we waste a lot of energy and effort chasing some revelation of God that will answer all of our questions about God, only to be disappointed again when we see Him “through a glass dimly” (1 Cor. 13:12 KJV).
We wonder where we missed it. We think others have received it. We question our ability to see it. But Paul’s words should set us free from that unnecessary struggle! Joy in this life doesn’t come from knowing everything about God, but from accepting that we are fully known by God, and trusting that nothing He learns about us will separate us from His love (Romans 8:38-39).
Someday, we will see Him as He is, but for now, in the shadowlands, we have moments – we could call them glimpses of glory – when the fog lifts, and we see as much of Him as we can handle. This is why revival affects people in such a wide variety of ways; some can handle more of His glory than others.
I played a commercial at the end of the message I preached at church yesterday. A commercial from a grocery store chain that explains so beautifully how God graciously watches over us, takes care of us, and provides for us even when we don’t fully recognize Who He is.
As you watch it, would you do two things? One, grab some tissues because you’re probably going to need them. And two, ask God to help you see Him as He is; not just as a holy God who saved you from death, but as a Father who wants to walk with you as you live.
It means the world to me that you're here. I write mostly to get out of my own head, and tend to focus on culture, faith, church hurt, and emotional and spiritual health.
I long to live an authentic life marked by faith, family, friendships, and joy. If what I write resonates with you and you choose to subscribe, I'd consider myself even more blessed.
