You go before me and follow me, You place your hand of blessings on my head. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too great for me to understand. [Psalm 139:5-6 (NLT)]
I started Sunday morning with Psalm 139—a beautiful reminder that God was with us at our conception, is with us now, and will be with us at our end. “Thank you for making me so wonderfully complex! Your workmanship is marvelous,” read the psalm. Those words reminded me of Joey. Chinese by birth, born without hands, and abandoned by his mother, he was adopted by an American family. In spite of his many visible and hidden challenges, Joey was a cheerful little guy until entering junior high school, encountering bullies, and asking the inevitable questions that come with adolescence. In spite of being part of a loving family, he feels he failed the birth family who discarded him like a piece of trash and, rather than feeling wonderfully made, Joey asks why God made him the way He did.
Scripture reading was followed by the newspaper where I found an interesting advice column. The writer has both birth and adopted daughters but her birth daughter refuses to allow her children to call her sister “aunt” because she’s not really “family.” In response, the psychologist noted that there are some deep seated jealousy issues in the girls’ relationship and pointed out that legally both girls have the same standing. He then added an interesting argument to show the absurdity of the birth daughter’s position. The adopted daughter could actually say she was more of a daughter than her sister because their parents deliberately chose her and had to go through a long involved process to get her. The other sister’s conception took but a few minutes and even may have been an accident! While I don’t think that argument will improve the girls’ relationship, he had an interesting point about adoption; it is a deliberate act of love!
In a strange juxtaposition, Sunday’s sermon was part of a series, “Faith at the Movies,” and The Lion King was the subject. Until Rafiki confronted him, the lion Simba forgot who he was—the son of the king—and that his father lived in him. Like Simba, we are the King’s children; He adopted us when we accepted Jesus. Just as Simba’s father was in him, our Father lives in us.
Our Heavenly Father was there when we were but a gleam in our birth fathers’ eyes. As the psalmist wrote, He made “all the delicate, inner parts” of our bodies as He knit us together in our mothers’ wombs. Joey may appear flawed by human standards but he is perfectly made by God’s standards. When Simba saw his reflection in the water, he saw his father and Rafiki assured him, “He lives in you.” Joey and his family are working with counselors but, to truly heal, Joey will have to see the face of his Father, the King, when he sees his reflection. He will have to see his worth in being the adopted child of God and believe that God’s spirit lives in him.
Rafiki asks Simba, ”Who are you?” and Sunday’s sermon asked us the same question. Like Simba, we often forget that it’s not our circumstances that characterize us. Our sex, appearance, family, heritage, profession, assets, shortcomings, accomplishments, failures, and even our sins do not define us. It’s not what we are but whose we are that gives us value and worth. Because God adopted us into His family, first and foremost, we are children of the King.
Child of God, you cost Christ too much for him to forget you. [Charles Spurgeon]
Because of my foot surgery, I was stuck in an air boot (and “air” definitely does not mean “light as air”) for five weeks. Weighing just a little over three pounds, it felt more like thirty by the end of each day. Wearing a cumbersome boot that never quite matched the height of any of my shoes took its toll on me. Eventually, my foot didn’t hurt as much as did my knee, hip, and back from hobbling along in my heavy unmatched footwear. Carrying extra loads of anger, resentment, worry, heartache, guilt, or regret can weigh us down in much the same way that boot affected my body and gait. Instead of walking with confidence and strength, we limp along in fear, discomfort and doubt. The difference, of course, is that there was purpose to my burdensome boot but there is no purpose in being saddled with emotional baggage. Jesus asks us to give Him our burdens; with Him in our lives, we don’t have to carry any extra weight in our hearts.
Yesterday, when writing about discontent, I realized there is one area in our lives about which Christians are too content. It appears that we’re quite content to keep our salvation and God’s grace to ourselves and allow others to miss that grace and experience eternity in Hell.
Mankind falls within the first few pages of Genesis as does Mansoul within the first few pages of John Bunyan’s allegory The Holy War. Resembling real life, Bunyan’s King Shaddai sends his son, Prince Emmanuel, to rescue the fallen city. Under Diabolus and his minions Lord Will-be-will and Misters Lustings, Forget-good, No-truth and Unbelief, Mansoul refuses to listen to Shaddai’s captains. The gates to the city are double-locked and Mr. Prejudice and his band of Deafmen guard Ear-gate (the most likely place the King’s forces will try to enter). Nevertheless, Prince Emmanuel delivers Mansoul from the tyranny of Diabolus, Mansoul repents, and Emmanuel forgives. The story, however, is far from over because Diabolus is not done with Mansoul.
As a friend’s father used to say, “I couldn’t have made the day any better myself!” The temperature was perfect, the humidity had dropped, the pink of the sunrise tinged the early morning sky, and the aroma of jasmine made every breath a pleasure. When I looked one way, I still could still see the full moon and, when I looked the other, I saw the golden fire of the rising sun. Like a mirror, the lake reflected the clouds and colorful sky. Mocking birds were singing their joyful songs, rabbits were munching the grass, squirrels were chasing one another, ducks effortlessly glided through the water, and a few woodpeckers were tapping on the palms. It seemed like God had given me the beautiful morning as a special birthday gift. Of course, I know He didn’t do it just for me but it felt that way. I was especially appreciative of these little everyday things because I knew it would be my last walk for many weeks; the following day I was having foot surgery and faced a long recovery. As I tried to gather in the morning’s memory to keep me content for the next several weeks of inactivity, I wondered why I didn’t appreciate every morning as much as that day’s.
Sent by God to warn the people of Nineveh of God’s judgment, Jonah went in the opposite direction. After he survived three days in the belly of a fish, God gave Jonah another chance to deliver His message to the people of Nineveh. This time, Jonah delivered the news that God intended to destroy the city in forty days. When Nineveh’s king heard Jonah’s warning, he called for fasting, praying, and repenting their evil ways. People and animals were to cover themselves with sackcloth (a coarse fabric of goat’s hair) as a sign of grief, submission, and contrition. Seeing their repentance, God was merciful and gave them another chance.
Devotions of the Heart 