Those Who Wait (Friday Devotional)

 

Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord.

- Psalm 27:14

On Monday morning, I reported to the Frank Crowley Courts Building in Dallas for a long-delayed rite of passage into American adulthood: jury duty. I happened to post on Facebook about it that morning, and in the comments, several people thanked me for my service, for fulfilling my civic duty. Yet despite those grandiose terms, all I really wound up doing was wait, wait, wait. I waited in Dallas traffic to get where I was going. I waited in the security line outside the courthouse. And for two and a half hours, I waited in the central jury room, only to be dismissed without being called upon. My “service to democracy,” at least this time around, was to spend 4 hours of my morning waiting.

Part of the reason we sincerely refer to the inconveniences of jury duty—not to mention voting, volunteering, and more—as acts of sacrificial service is because of how much we despise waiting. We hate waiting at the DMV, we hate waiting at the doctor’s office, we hate waiting at the grocery store. Indeed, some people find even amusement parks—places literally designed for fun—to be joyless because of all the waiting they require. In a society where we can buy any product, answer any question, and contact any friend with the click of a button, few things seem as frustrating and unnecessary as being forced to wait.

How instructive and humbling then to be reminded in Scripture that sometimes—many times—we are required to wait for God. For all the areas of life where we are in control, all the places where we can bend things to our will and get what we want, we don’t get to determine God’s timing. We simply seek him humbly, pray to him earnestly—and wait.

Waiting for the Lord serves as a gentle reminder that it is God who is sovereign, not us. What we have is not ours, it’s simply what we’ve been entrusted with—God is the one who holds the world in his hands, not us. Waiting for the Lord, when done with patience instead of resentment, is an act of humility and faith.

Waiting, whether for an answer to prayer or for your name to be called in a jury room, is probably never going to be fun. But that doesn’t mean it’s useless—if you’ll approach it with a humble perspective, to wait is to learn.

Unexpected Aid (Friday Devotional)

Do not judge, or you too will be judged. For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.

- Matthew 7:1-2

The other day, I ran into AutoZone to grab something, the kind of 2-minute errand where you’re trying to get in and out as quickly as possible. But on my way back to my car, I saw something that gave me pause.

In a nearby parking spot, a woman was hunched over the open hood of her car. Now, that’s pretty typical at AutoZone; I wouldn’t have stopped for that. What made we hesitate was the sight of an unkempt man, pretty clearly homeless, approaching her. Concerned he was going to bother her, I took a step forward to intervene.

But before I could say a word, the man asked her if she needed help. Initially startled, she told him she was trying to check her oil level but didn’t know how. So the man lifted the dipstick out of her hood, rubbed it on his jacket, and showed her exactly what she needed to know. Once he was satisfied that she understood, he shut the hood for her and continued on his way without another word.

This man—who I perceived as threatening because he was homeless—ended up being more of a helper to the woman than the pastor did.

When Jesus told the parable of the Good Samaritan, the primary lesson was about what it means to be a neighbor. But secondarily, that story was also a reminder not to make assumptions about who is “good” and who is not—to judge not, lest we be judged.

We know who we expect to be good neighbors—the people who look and think and believe like we do. These are the people we are most comfortable being around, the ones we go to first when we need help. But make no mistake: there are plenty of Good Samaritans—and, yes, good, unhoused people—among you too. Set your expectations aside and give them a chance to be your neighbor.

Climb the Tree (Friday Devotional)

 

Do not be slothful in zeal, be fervent in spirit, serve the Lord.

- Romans 12:11

When Texas Rangers scout Joe Marchese picked up a hitchhiker by the side of the road, he didn’t expect much from the kid—after all, if he was anybody special, what was he doing hitchhiking? But as the two talked, Marchese’s passenger revealed that he was a pitcher with hopes of making the big leagues someday. Prove it, Marchese told him. The kid sheepishly replied that he didn’t have a ball or glove.

Whipping the vehicle off the highway, Marchese pulled into a nearby orange grove. He hopped out of the car and scaled a tree, tossing down 30 oranges to the hitchhiker. Sitting on a tree branch, he yelled down, “Throw those at the tree so I can see your arm. We’ll see if you’re a pitcher!”

The world doesn’t have a lot of characters like Joe Marchese, people so devoted to their work and so unwilling to miss an opportunity that they’ll scamper up a tree on a hope and a prayer. But if we’re faithful, the kingdom of God ought to have plenty.

Inspired by a gospel of hope and empowered by the Holy Spirit, believers in Jesus Christ are called to be zealous in our faith and excited to share it with others. Faith in the Lord isn’t merely a weekend hobby and church isn’t just a social obligation; rather, our relationship with the Lord is supposed to be something that transforms you from the inside out, overflowing into worship of God and love for others.

Like Zacchaeus scaling a sycamore—or Joe Marchese climbing an orange tree—you can show your determination for the Lord every day. Obstacles will be put in your way to try and prevent you from showing your faith. But when they come, look to the Lord for strength—if you’re willing to serve, he’ll give you the means!

Good Friday

 

On this day, we remember the crucifixion of Jesus Christ and reflect upon a solemn, profound truth: it is through his sacrifice on the cross that we are saved. It is the death of Jesus that gives us new life. By his wounds we are healed.

The longer you think about the suffering we put Jesus through, the harder it gets to call this a “Good Friday.” After all, this is the day we saw humanity at its worst. There is nothing good about the betrayal of Judas or the cowardice of Peter or the duplicity of the chief priests and teachers of the law. There is nothing good about the mob mentality that saw Jesus condemned or the cruel contempt that same multitude of mockers leveled at him. There is nothing good about the state-sanctioned torture Jesus was forced to endure—the whips striking his back, the nails hammered through his hands and feet, the thorns piercing his brow, the asphyxiation of his lungs as he hung on the cross. That terrible day 2,000 years ago put the depravity of humanity on full display; it showed in the starkest terms how far we’d fallen from Eden.

But if that Friday was the ultimate proof of our wickedness, it was also the purest revelation of God’s mercy. For Jesus to give himself up for suffering when he could have called down a legion of angels for rescue, for him to go like a lamb to the slaughter, for him to suffer and bleed and die—for him to do all of that, and all for a humanity that had rejected him outright, is an unfathomable testament to God’s love for us. The moment humanity was at its worst was the moment when Jesus came into his glory.

By the grace of God, Jesus turned an execution into a sacrifice and a humiliation into a victory. He transformed scorn and mockery—the placard declaring him “King of the Jews,” the thorny crown upon his head—into gospel truth. He redeemed a tool of torture, making his cross the instrument of our salvation. Jesus took the worst we had to offer and somehow made it new.

Were it not for Jesus, this would be a day of shame and guilt, a day we’d like desperately to forget. But because of his redemptive power, our sin gives way to his forgiveness and our deserved condemnation gives way to his grace. Left to our own devices, this would be a day of infamy. But because Jesus is Lord, this is Good Friday.