Lord of the Day

I have been leading a Bible Study on the Book of Acts at Heart of the Shepherd every Sunday morning for several weeks now.  It has been about 4 weeks since we read Chapter 12.  Today I read it with my daughter and suddenly I discovered something I had not noticed only a few weeks ago.  This is what I love about the Bible!  When God calls it the Living Word, it is because it takes form in our lives regularly if we allow it, bringing life with that understanding.

In Acts Chapter 12 it is recapping the story of Peter being imprisoned for spreading the Gospel.  So threatening was the message, that his captors saw fit to have him guarded by four squads of soldiers containing four soldiers each.  That's 16 men to 1 man in chains.  And as overly cautious as this may sound, it wasn't enough.  Peter's friends were back home praying for him earnestly.  The night before he was to go to trial, an angel awakens him and leads him out of the prison.  He goes to the home of Mary, the mother of John Mark, where everyone has been praying for him.  A servant girl, named Rhoda goes to the door and she is so excited to see him that she forgets to let him in and runs to tell everyone.  Verse 15 was the moment of revelation for me.  "'You're out of your mind,' they told her.  When she kept insisting that it was so, they said, 'It must be his angel.'"

Originally, I found the interaction with Rhoda humorous.  The girl forgets Peter at the door, she's so excited!  And I suppose because I was amused by that, I missed what the comments by the rest of the party really implies.  You see, these people had been praying for Peter.  It is reasonable to guess that they were praying for his protection, for his release, for his faith, and for his comfort.  And these same praying people cannot believe it when he actually shows up at the door.  In fact, they explain away the girl's persistence by saying it must be Peter's angel.  In other words, they think it is more reasonable that Peter is dead and his angel is paying them a visit, than to believe that Peter was actually released from prison.

It occurred to me that we Christians suffer from this same disconnect in our daily walk of faith.  It is as though we trust God in heavenly matters, but often don't expect Him to intervene with our earthly ones.  And when He does answer those prayers with the friend we have needed, or the money to cover unexpected costs, or a sudden sense of peace, we often give ourselves the credit as being resourceful enough to make it through the hard times.

Suddenly, this story became so very powerful to me, because it wasn't just about Peter escaping from prison, but it was an intimate look at how I actually view my relationship with God.  It revealed to me how very likely I would be the one saying, "Rhoda, you're crazy!  It must be an angel, because there's no way it's Peter!"  I so often struggle with the thought that God regularly accomplishes the impossible or even the unlikely.  I can trust in Him for my eternal salvation, but I am hesitant to believe He has a grasp on this day.

I have a great God.  He has conquered my sins, covered them with His righteousness, and longs for my entrance into His Eternal Home.  But He wasn't done with me when He secured my eternity.  How easily I forget that.  He has a daily plan for me.  One that involves regular interference.  Most of which I probably do not ever acknowledge or recognize.

Jesus isn't just a God of the eternal, but He is Lord over this day!  His power is accessible today, but we so often act like we won't see it until eternity.  If we welcome Him as the God who cares about today, we will see the power of the God that was able to conquer not only death, but the life we face today.

    

A Test of Love?

I have a two year old.  This means I frequently find my patience, endurance, and sanity being tested.  "It's all about being more stubborn than she is," I often find myself saying to the sympathetic listener, or to no one at all, but simply as a means of committing myself to the idea.  Mary has mastered two entirely frustrating characteristics of the two year old.  First, she can ignore her name repeatedly called whether you are two inches from her face or juggling a baby and dinner prep in the kitchen whilst she is exploring mischievous opportunities in the bathroom upstairs.  Secondly, her ability to play chicken with the "1,2, 3 threat" has the makings of a daredevil.  Just as your lips begin to form the threatening "three" smackdown and you are prepared to rush her off to Timeout Land, her body launches into action at lightning speed, completing whatever simple request she had been resisting.

I heard it once said that if you pray for patience, you better be prepared for all the opportunities God would be sending your way to try your patience.  Upon hearing such wisdom, I panicked.  I had been praying for patience...a lot.  I realized all of those times that I prayed for patience at the end of an exhausting day, I was really looking for respite from having my patience tried.  I did not consider that in order to grasp the concept of patience, I would have to experience opportunities that cause impatience- Mary insisting that she has to put her shoes on when I am in a hurry to leave, Colette requiring detailed explanation about why there are still kids at the park when I am trying to rush her home because Julia's diaper has exploded, the phone call that I cannot get to end despite multiple attempts to bring attention to the chaos developing in my background.

I guess it would be safe to say I do not like to be tested.  For this reason, I have often felt unsettled when reading Bible stories of God testing the faith of His followers: Job, Abraham, the Israelites when they were traveling to the Promised Land, and the disciples.  It almost appeared cruel to me that an all-knowing God would need to test those that loved Him.  Why would He need to test Abraham's faithfulness; He who knows the hearts of man?  What could knowledge could He gain of us that He did not already know?

It was years of confusion before I realized the gain was all mine.  Through testing our hearts, God learns nothing new of us, but reveals to us His goodness and faithfulness, and our own shortcomings.  How can my faith be strong if it is never exercised?  As an athlete trains his body, enduring strenuous activities to strengthen and prepare himself, so should our faith be in constant trial.  If through competing, an athlete learns of his weaknesses, he does not pack up and go home, but uses the knowledge to prepare himself better.

In grade school I viewed tests simply as opportunity to boast about how smart I was.  The grade was the end goal.  Never did I use the test results to understand my needs as a student.  Perhaps this is why I resented testing from God.  There was little to boast about and I felt defeated; another "F" for patience and no amount of prayer seemed to bring about the magical transformation for which I pleaded.  God was not simply looking for a passing grade.  He was revealing to me the cause of my impatience.  From my failing grade, He wanted me to gain lasting knowledge of self that would cause me to be a conqueror of impatience.    

As Christians we should expect trials of faith regularly.  Our attitude as they approach should be, "Lord, what can I gain from this?  How will you teach me?"  And our faith should lead us to believe that we will come out stronger, purer in heart, and prepared for the next challenge.  Let us not forget that Jesus was tested by the devil with several temptations so that we might learn from the champion of our faith how to become triumphant ourselves.