Difficult Love (Friday Devotional)

For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? And if you greet only your brothers and sisters, what more are you doing than others? Do not even the gentiles do the same?

- Matthew 5:46-47

Every now and then, when the sports calendar is in a dry period, an evergreen controversy will consume talk radio: athletes today fraternize too much with their opponents. Following a friendly pregame hug or a lengthy postgame chat between players on opposing sides, sports pundits (often former athletes themselves) will talk about how “back in my day,” rivals hated each other, how icons from Ty Cobb to Michael Jordan refused to so much as speak to the opposition, much less treat them as friends. The implication is clear: you should hold tight to your team, but should be wary—if not outright hostile—towards others.

There’s something very relatable about that instinct. We are always most comfortable around those who are most like us: those who live where we live, go to school where we go, make the kind of money we make, vote like we vote, and believe what we believe. Those are easy friends to make, and you feel an immediate kinship to them because of all your similarities. If all your neighbors were like them, life would be easy.

But Jesus offers a gentle word caution: not all your neighbors are like you. In the kingdom of God, we are called to love not only our friends and family, but even our enemies. The “neighborhood” we are called to love is not a gated community, but an expansive world, made up of both like-minded allies and divergent strangers—and we are called to love each and every one of them in Jesus’s name.

It’s tempting to build a bubble of nice, middle class, Christian believers, and to disregard the rest of the world. But the Lord points us to a bigger project: not simply surrounding ourselves with easy, comfortable friends, but reaching out to lost souls. Sticking with your team may work on the ballfield, but it has a distinct weakness in the real world: your roster never grows.

Remind Me (Friday Devotional)

 

These commandments that I give you today are to be on your hearts. Impress them on your children. Talk about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up. Tie them as symbols on your hands and bind them on your foreheads. Write them on the doorframes of your houses and on your gates.

- Deuteronomy 6:6-9

By the time you’re reading this, my family and I will have begun our trip to America’s Rust Belt, where we plan to visit three major league ballparks, a national park, and Niagara Falls—not to mention eating some delicious food. But before we do any of that, there’s one little obstacle we’ll have to navigate: airport security.

Since 2001, those who fly regularly have gotten accustomed to the various rules: shoes off, empty your pockets, laptops and electronic devices in their own bins, etc. It’s been more than 20 years of this rigmarole; you’d think we’d all have it down by now. But inevitably, the line gets slowed down by the man who didn’t remember his cell phone was in his pocket or the woman who thought her 24 oz. bottle of shampoo would sneak past the X-ray. That’s why TSA employees, with understandable weariness, have to give the same instructions 100 times during their daily shift—because while we think we know what to do, we actually need to be reminded what’s expected of us.

In the days of Moses, God wanted to be sure his people remembered the laws he was giving them—so not only did he give them commands, he told them how important it was to repeat those commands amongst themselves. Teach them to your children, talk about them around the dinner table, give yourselves visible reminders on your body and in your home—these were all things the Lord advised his people to do.

For God’s people today, we continue to need such reminders. It’s easy to think after a while that you’ve absorbed everything already, that following God is second nature by now. But the truth is that, without daily discipleship, you’ll fall into bad habits and forget what Jesus has taught you. Don’t let your pride trick you into thinking that you have nothing more to learn from God, or that what you have learned is set in concrete. Read your Bible. Pray regularly. Worship and serve alongside fellow believers. These are all ways that God gives you little reminders of what the gospel’s all about.

And rest assured, we all need reminders. Take it from this world traveler, life goes a lot more smoothly when you listen—yes, even when you know the words by heart—to the commands you swore you’d never forget.

July Reading Log

Is this the shortest reading log I've ever published? Maybe! Blame youth camp, a family beach trip, a reading slump, and several long books (one of which I finished, two of which I'm still working on). Enjoy reading this, it won't take you long!

WORKING by Studs Terkel

If there's one thing we value in the U.S. of A., it's work. From the pilgrims to the pioneers to today, America's citizens have long found meaning in our jobs, seeing them not merely as a means to get by but as a source of purpose.

So in 1974, writer and historian Studs Terkel shined a light on America's workers, from nurses to nuns, from steelworkers to stewardesses. Working is a voluminous series of interviews with worker of all stripes, primarily out of Chicago, where subjects explain what they do and why they do it. Some confess that their job is just a job, while others take tremendous pride in what they produce. Some are happy in their work, others can't wait for something else to come along. But to a person, everyone understands that work is necessary.

This book is looooong—nearly 650 pages, and with frustratingly small print—and it's a bit tedious when read for long stretches at a time. But taken in bite-sized chunks, it's an illuminating (if dated) look at the so-called "forgotten people" of our country, the working class folks who keep society functioning. I admit that I appreciated this book more than I enjoyed it, but I'm glad to have spent the month in its pages.

MYSTERY IN ROCKY MOUNTAIN NATIONAL PARK by Aaron Johnson

This month, my kids' bedtime reading veered away from the works of Roald Dahl (we're essentially finished with everything he's written) and went in a totally different direction, courtesy of Andrew's teacher at Herfurth Elementary. Knowing that he's interested in America's national parks, over the summer she gifted him four books in an ongoing series set in the parks.

Mystery in Rocky Mountain National Park establishes the series' premise: Jake, his cousin Wes, and their family friend Amber are on a scavenger hunt set up by Jake's late grandfather, one which will take them through multiple national parks and which has roots deep in our nation's past. But even as they solve the various clues, they must be mindful that a mysterious, sinister group of opponents is doing the same. Basically, National Treasure meets John Muir.

The series is pretty classic children's lit, seeking to educate and entertain simultaneously. And while for an adult it's a little transparent in its attempts to teach about conservation and outdoor safety, the kids were eating it up. I can't think of a night all month when they weren't begging me to read at least one chapter.

In September we'll continue with the second book in the planned 10-part series, this one set in Great Sand Dunes National Park and Preserve. Thanks, Mrs. Posey!

Quiet Faithfulness (Friday Devotional)

 

So whenever you give alms, do not sound a trumpet before you, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets, so that they may be praised by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward.

- Matthew 6:2

After dinner a few nights ago, my son Isaac climbed up on the dining room table, where a half-finished jigsaw puzzle was assembled. As you might expect from a toddler, he then started grabbing individual puzzle pieces and throwing them on the ground. By the time we stopped him, the floor was littered with 50 or so puzzle pieces.

The damage already done, we decided to make cleanup a learning experience, showing Isaac how to pick up the pieces and then telling him to do as we had done. He was hesitant at first, but when he successfully mimicked us—picking up a piece and putting it in the box—everybody in the room cheered and clapped. He burst into a big smile, then did it again, to more applause. Every time he did what he was supposed to, he was rewarded with praise.

While perhaps not taken to that extreme—expecting applause every time you do the right thing—we never fully outgrow that desire to be recognized for our good works. In Jesus’ day, there was a particular group, the scribes and Pharisees, who loved to parade their religiosity before the people. When they prayed and fasted and gave to the poor, they made a show of it, wanting to be sure everybody saw what righteous people they were.

But Jesus calls his disciples to a different posture—not to showy religiosity, but to quiet faithfulness. Instead of practicing righteousness for earthly rewards like recognition, the Lord points us toward the integrity of doing what is right even when nobody notices.

It can be tough to abandon that childlike need for praise, to be comfortable serving the Lord even when your work goes unnoticed. But be assured that the Lord sees even when others don’t—and while you may lose out on the earthly reward of applause, you can look forward to heavenly reward.

Deep Calls to Deep (Friday Devotional)

 

Deep calls to deep at the thunder of your torrents; all your waves and your billows have gone over me. By day the Lord commands his steadfast love, and at night his song is with me, a prayer to the God of my life.

- Psalm 42:7-8

With summer break winding down, my family spent a couple days at the beach at the beginning of this week—no sightseeing, no plans, just two days in the sand and the water soaking up the sun. Everybody has their own favorite activity at the beach—Katherine likes playing in the sand, Andrew likes the pool, etc. Personally, my favorite thing to do is to swim out deep enough that my feet can no longer touch the sand beneath me and to just bob up and down in the water, letting the waves break over and around me. There’s something oddly peaceful about the repetition of those waves, each one a little different than the one before it, yet all coming in a steady, unceasing rhythm.

Life can feel those waves, constantly crashing into you without a break. Its stresses and anxieties can feel endless, routine only in the sense that they never stop. That’s the situation the psalmist describes at the beginning of Psalm 47, when he describes his soul thirsting for God the way a deer pants for water. “Why,” he asks, “are you cast down, o my soul, and why are you disquieted within me?”

But just as life’s rollers and breakers never seem to cease, neither does God’s mercy. “Deep calls to deep,” the psalmist says. God responds to your cries with his presence. When you pray to him, those prayers do not vanish into the wind; they rise to heaven. God hears you, he cares, and he responds.

Believers often compare the slings and arrows of life to a storm, the kind of wind and waves that Jesus and his disciples faced on the Sea of Galilee. But know this—as powerful as those trials may be, they cannot compare to the power of the Lord. Cry out to him today and find his mercy.

Your Worst Day Ever (Friday Devotional)

 

The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.

- Psalm 34:18

“THIS IS MY WORST DAY EVER!!!!”

Lately that’s become something of a refrain for one of my kids (I won’t disclose which one in case they read this somewhere down the road). When things don’t go their way—whether it’s because we say no to chocolate milk or because we tell them it’s time to practice piano or because they get scolded for misbehaving—we can count on that exclamation, sometimes accompanied by the slam of a door. THIS, we are assured, is the worst day ever.

As adults, we have a little more perspective in those kinds of moments. Hurt feelings really do hurt and disappointments really do disappoint, but we know better than to believe those kinds of moments are rock bottom. Life has a way of showing you what true tragedy looks like—your real worst day ever inevitably arrives someday, and you probably know it when it comes.

The good news is that when it does, you don’t face it alone. The Bible promises us that our God is not distant and removed from our pain, but rather that he sits with us in it. Indeed, the life and death of Jesus is the ultimate proof of how divine love functions—the Lord is not “God beyond us”, but “God with us.” He is the baby laid in a humble manger, the friend who weeps at Lazarus’ tomb, the Savior who suffers and dies for our sins.

For both the pouting child in my home and the devastated parent in the Hill Country, God is near, not far. And when you come to your own worst day ever, be assured that he will not leave your side.

God and Country (Friday Devotional)

But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s special possession, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light. 

- 1 Peter 2:9

Today we honor the 249^th birthday of the United States, celebrating our national independence with fireworks and parades and all sorts of revelry. It’s a day when Americans of all stripes take pride in our country, giving thanks to God for the freedoms we enjoy. We say the pledge of allegiance, we sing the national anthem, and we salute the flag.

And for believers in Jesus Christ, we do all this even as we remember something important: our primary citizenship is not in this country, but in heaven. In talking about the Lord’s church, the Bible describes us as “a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation”—terms which once exclusively described Israel and now refer to all who profess faith in Jesus. With those words, Scripture reframes our understanding of belonging and identity.

The New Testament makes clear that, while we have secondary allegiances—to family, to workplace, to nation—our primary allegiance is to our Savior. We serve our communities, but first we serve our God. We pay honor to those in authority, just as the apostles command, but we worship our Lord.

We have much to be thankful for as Americans—first and foremost that freedom of religious expression is a constitutional guaranteed right. So as we celebrate our national heritage today, may we do so with our spiritual heritage top of mind. Love for country is worthwhile—and love for God is supreme.