Your Burden Carried

Have you ever prayed that God would remind you of your need for Jesus and all that He has saved you from? I will warn you before you do because you might end up like I did today, on the verge of tears, wondering why I am sad when I have nothing to be sad about and in fact am more grateful than usual. Now, I might be a little tired so my tears may not be entirely the result of a prayer. But I'm certain that this emotion - feeling the depth of God's love and remembering the weight of sin and the strength of its grip - is a gift that only God can bestow.

Earlier this week, I was challenged from multiple sources to meditate on the Passion Week, to think about the historical events we celebrate at Easter, and consider the reason for the cross. I sat thinking about how long it has been since I have been overwhelmed by the love of God. I can look back and remember moments when I felt incredibly free because I was so sure of the love of God and so aware of how little I deserved it. My circumstances seemed all a product of His grace, even though they were far from perfect. No biting remark or sense of another person's disapproval could hurt me because I knew so poignantly that I had been rescued and that the love and acceptance of God was sweeter and more satisfying than any human love or sign of man's approval.

Once your eyes have experienced such sharp vision, it's not hard to realize when your glasses have fogged up and the beauty of God's work on the cross has somehow become a point in your Sunday sermon notes instead of something that moves you to tears every moment that you have breath. Perhaps it would be impractical for us to always be on the verge of tears thinking about the cross, but I think it is good for us to pray periodically that we know the depths of sin and despair from which we have been saved. It is from this place that our love for Jesus grows and only from that place can we love people as He loves them.

For me, what drew me back to the foot of the cross was remembering the weight of what I once lived under. Some of it came from watching others drowning in some of the struggles that once gripped my life. My hope for them comes from what I saw God do in my life. But, the second I lose sight of how deeply I struggled, the second I lose grace for them and pass on to judgement. Honestly, though, I sometimes guard myself from remembering what I once was. It's embarrassing. It makes certain years of my life feel like a waste. But, only in remembering, do I know that it was only Jesus taking my burden upon Himself that could have freed me from the burdens that were weighing me down. And, only in remembering my pain and how fruitlessly I tried to fix my problems myself, do I develop a heart that longs for others to be free.

I do not feel the need to be specific in naming the sins and burdens Jesus has saved me from. I promise you that they are not much different from your own because Jesus looks at us all the same. Our sins all weighed on Him the same while He was on the cross, and the price He paid He paid for all sins without distinction. There wasn't a heavier price for some. Every sin grieved Him. Every sin was enough to separate us from Him forever. But He conquered sin and death and rose, offering the only hope for life and freedom from this crushing weight of sin.

As my vision of the cross has come into clearer focus this week, this song has been on repeat:

"Come to Me" - The Village Church

Weary, burdened wanderer
There is rest for thee
At the feet of Jesus
In His love so free
Listen to His message
Words of life, forever blest
Oh, thou heavy-laden
Come to me, come and rest

There is freedom, taste and see
Here the call, come to me
Run into His arms of grace
Your burdened carried, He will take
He will take...

Bring Him all thy burdens
All thy guilt and sin
Mercy's door is open
Rise up and enter in

There is freedom, taste and see

Here the call, come to me

Run into His arms of grace

Your burdened carried, He will take

He wil take...

Jesus, there is waiting
Patiently for thee
Here him gently calling
Come, Oh, Come to me

There is freedom, taste and see

Here the call, come to me

Run into His arms of grace

Your burdened carried, He will take

He wil take...

Won't you come?
Won't you come?

I pray that you will come. Give him your burden for the first time. Remember your burden that He has already carried and taken away. Praise him with tears of gratitude that you are free. Sit at his feet this Easter. Rest in His love.

The Modern-Day Fantine: A Tribute to Les Miserables

A number of images are flashing through my mind as I sit in a "common" coffee shop in Waco, TX this afternoon (my fellow Texans and coffee addicts can guess to which eclectic couch-filled cafe I refer).

If anyone has spoken with me or followed me on any sort of social media in the last month, they will not be surprised that one of the images in my mind is Fantine, played by Anne Hathaway, singing "I Dreamed A Dream" in Les Miserables. I will post some of the lyrics here for those that have missed out on this film or have forgotten the words of this song sung by a woman hopeless, abused, and ashamed of her new life as a prostitute.

//

There was a time when men were kind
When their voices were soft
And their words inviting
There was a time when love was blind
And the world was a song
And the song was exciting
There was a time
Then it all went wrong

I dreamed a dream in time gone by
When hope was high
And life worth living
I dreamed that love would never die
I dreamed that God would be forgiving
Then I was young and unafraid
And dreams were made and used and wasted
There was no ransom to be paid
No song unsung, no wine untasted

But the tigers come at night
With their voices soft as thunder
As they tear your hope apart
As they turn your dream to shame

//

The beauty of the theater is that we as the audience are not limited by words in our comprehension of the depth of the emotion expressed. Thus, this scene, showing emotion through both physical and vocal expression, has an incredible power.

What strikes me now, though, is that so many who sat in theaters moved to tears by this scene have never shed a tear for a modern-day prostitute, either enslaved or there by choice. Fantine is a voice in a musical, a piece of history, a woman uniquely arrived at a most unfortunate situation. The problem with this mindset is that our tears are left in movie theaters, and we turn our backs on women today who are daily driven to the sex industry for reasons often similar to Fantine's. We weep for Fantine, but we shrink at the thought of approaching women in our clean, "free" American cities who we see living in the shadows of a shameful industry. We do not question why they are there. We do not pause to listen for their stories, which they might softly cry as Fantine does when no one is near. They once had dreams as well.

Last night I had the privilege of praying for modern-day Fantine's and for the women who, in Jesus' name, actually enter into the dark places where these women live. I don't share this to say "Look at me. I am responding and engaging when others are not." I share this because the images that filled my mind through the night last night and into today are all uncomfortable and some of them truly horrific. They are not letting go of me. While I was sitting there imaging women trapped in this industry and praying for freedom for them, I kept thinking, "This is right. This is good." Why do we spend so much time as a church arguing over who's following the rules correctly and whispering shocking stories over coffee, promising to pray for so and so lost person? If they are truly lost, why are we not out there trying to find them? Why are we not beckoning them to safety? Why are we not Jean Valjean who repented of having previously overlooked Fantine's plight by swiftly taking her in his arms, rushing her to a hospital and promising to care for her child for the rest of his life? And why did he show compassion on Fantine? Because he had once been destitute himself. Desperate need and a love for his starving nephew had driven him to commit a crime and, as a result, he spent years of his life in prison. He knew what it felt like to be crushed by the world, to be fighting for mere survival, to lose all belief that a higher being was up above watching his plight and caring about his life. He and Fantine finally believe in God and His love for them because they experience love from another person. In their own words, "To love another person is to see the face of God."

The other image that came to my mind this afternoon was that of a building burning down. As believers in Jesus, we ought to see ourselves as those who have been rescued from a burning building. We were surrounded by the flames, suffocating from the smoke, near death....and someone chose to rescue us. Now, we stand outside, breathing clean air, standing next to our rescuer. And then our rescuer tells us that there are more people left inside. We hear their screams. Some have already fallen silent, but there is still hope for them to be revived. He is going back in to search them out and carry them from the building that will only stand so long before it collapses. We agree with him. "Yes, you must rescue them. Please rescue them. Once they are out here with us, we will gladly enjoy a meal together, a meal we thought we might never eat." And then he says that he wants our help. There is only so much time before the building collapses, and he needs all the extra hands he can get. We will have a fire suit, offering full protection. We will be with him, and he promises that there is no danger of us getting trapped again. We may suffer a little from the smoke fumes. Of course we will have to leave the bright sunlight and clean air for a brief time, but he promises to never leave our side. Will we go? How could we refuse to run back in?

Les Miserables ends with a chorus of those who have died and are now standing at the barricade, calling the people who are left to join in the crusade and to fight. As those who are left, our hope in joining the fight is that, no matter what transpires each day in our dealings with people, there will one day be an end to this sadness and injustice. The only way people will believe us when we tell them of this hope is if we show them the love we have been shown. We who are in the light call out to those who do not believe in the light. The flame must burn brightest, we must shower our love most freely, we must run without hesitation into the darkest rooms where Fantine's sit weeping over lost dreams and Jean Valjean's growl in chains at the injustice dealt to them.

To end with some perspective from Scripture:

"Whoever says 'I know him' but does not keep his commandments is a liar, and the truth is not in him, but whoever keeps his word, in him truly the love of God is perfected. By this we may know that we are in him: whoever says he abides in him ought to walk in the same way in which he walked."
- 1 John 2:4-6

You only have to read a little bit of any of the Gospels to see that Jesus walked with the sinner, the tax collector, the adulteress, and the terminally ill. And His greatest commandment is to love God and to love others. So if you are still uncertain as to whether you are really supposed to talk to a Fantine or run back into the burning building, just spend some time reading the words of Jesus and the way in which He walked. He was not afraid to keep these uncomfortable, horrific images in his mind because He knew the solution to every pain and sorrow. And we carry that solution, the treasure and blessing that is the Gospel, within us as His redeemed people. Let us not be afraid to walk as he walked.

The Sunrise Shall Visit Us

I read this beautiful passage of Scripture this morning and just had to share!

"And you, child, will be called the prophet of the Most High; for you will go before the Lord to prepare his ways, to give knowledge of salvation to his people in the forgiveness of their sins, because of the tender mercy of our God, whereby the sunrise shall visit us from on high to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace." Luke 1:76-79

The child is John the Baptist, who prepared the way for Jesus Christ, the Messiah. Jesus is the sunrise, giving light to those of us who sit in the darkness, in the shadow of death. The imagery is incredible. As I sat on my floor, meditating on these verses, I considered this devotional I had just read about confession. It talked about how we often think we have no control over our thoughts, and the sinful ones begin to eat away at our hearts. When we are in this state of mind, we are in the darkness. Even if we know Jesus, we are wasting away in the shadows of death, from which He rescued us. We are free and yet, in our laziness and desire for comfort, we choose to sit in these dark places.

Confession is the door out into the sunshine. My thoughts may be cloudy and dark, and I see no way out, but as soon as I name my thoughts for what they are (sin), Jesus offers me a way out into His peace.

"This is the message we have heard from him and proclaim to you, that God is light, and in him is no darkness at all. If we say we have fellowship with him while we walk in darkness, we lie and do not practice the truth. But if we walk in the light as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus his Son cleanses us from all sin. If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness. If we say we have not sinned, we make him a liar, and his word is not in us." 1 John 1:5-10

Our thoughts are powerful. Our thoughts cannot save us, as some people think. Even if we train our minds to think positively, apart from Christ our thoughts will still naturally tend toward a dark, twisted path. Jesus alone can save. Jesus can transform our thoughts. We have only to confess, and His peace will come.

Joy

My friend Allyson recently shared this quote from C.S. Lewis - "God cannot give us happiness apart from Himself, because it is not there. There is no such thing."

This quote struck me because I often find myself wishing for happiness or attempting to stir the emotion within myself. I place myself on the beach, my favorite place on earth, and wait for happiness to descend on me. When it doesn't, I start to despair. I even pray to God for additional things that I believe will make me happy. I tell him what I don't like about my situation. When I am unhappy, God and I are in constant conversation.

And then, I read this verse: "Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances, for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you." - 1 Thess. 5:16-18

Bam. Conviction. Even though, in the midst of the unhappiness, I feel like I am praying without ceasing, I am not rejoicing. And, of all the many prayers I pray, I do not pray for joy. I expect happiness to rain down upon me, and then I will run off and be free of this constant dependence on God. What a fool I am! This is God the Father that I approach with all my complaints. He reigns over every person, every family, and every situation. This is the God who promises "strength through His Spirit in your inner being" (Eph 3:16) and the God who allows us to "know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God" (Eph 3:19). This is the God who is "able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think" (Eph. 3:20). And still, I do not pray for the one thing I desperately need, one of the things God explicitly wills for me, the one thing that would allow me to be a light to those around me - that is, joy.

This morning, I ask for it, above all my other wishes. I do not seek happiness apart from the Father. I never want to be free of my need for Him or free of the trials that throw me into His arms.

I do have much to be thankful for and many blessings in my life, but even if all of these were stripped away, I could still have joy. I would have the Lord.

"Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me." Psalm 23:4

This is Jesus.

"He is the radiance of the glory of God and the exact imprint of his nature, and he upholds the universe by the word of His power." Hebrews 1:3

This is Jesus.

Acknowledge Him as God or don't acknowledge Him at all.

At Jesus' trial, the high priest commanded Him, "I adjure you by the living God, tell us if you are the Christ, the Son of God." (Matthew 26:63)

Jesus response: "You have said so. But I tell you, from now on you will see the Son of Man seated at the right hand of Power and coming on the clouds of heaven." (Matthew 26:64)

If you want to label him a prophet or a good teacher, please search through the Bible first. Jesus would rather you dismiss Him than identify him as something He is not and never claimed to be. If you don't trust the Bible, do your research before you toss it in the trash as poor evidence (I would recommend Ben Stuart's message, "Has the Bible Been Corrupted?" which you can get by subscribing to the Breakaway Ministries podcast through iTunes).

If you already call Him "Lord," then take time to consider His deity today. He was man, but He is also fully God. He upholds the universe. And yet, He also bore the weight of our sin on His shoulders. This should humble us. He is not a sweet little Jesus we pray to. He is God. He is Savior. Let's give Him the praise and adoration He deserves.