Colossians 1:24-27 (NIV)—I have become its servant by the commission God gave me to present to you the word of God in its fullness—the mystery that has been kept hidden for ages and generations, but is now disclosed to the Lord’s people.
The beach teemed with people lounging under umbrellas and tents. Cooler tops were popped open and towels were draped over chair backs.
The perfect beach scene…until I looked more closely. The tide touched an abandoned plastic bottle, pulling it out to sea. A broken bottle cap played hide-and-seek in the seaweed.
Beach lover that I am, I picked up the trash. I wanted the aquatic life to live by God’s design, not live a shortened life caused by clumsy human disposal.
Like stewardship makes a more beautiful beach, our stewardship of God’s ministry on earth makes God’s word more meaningful. Our rejoicing in our God-appointed commission even during our afflictions reveals to the people around us the mystery of God, our hope of glory.
Because Christ lives in us, we do not suffer for nothing. Our suffering acts as a beacon of light for other sinners to find salvation. And when other sinners find salvation, they too, like us, live life by God’s design.
Last weekend, I attended She Speaks 2024 online. One big lesson I learned came not only from the many wonderful speakers but also from the attendees.
Success scares us.
My thoughts tread along a steep, rocky path of fear: If I become published, do I have to live in the spotlight of social media rather than in my cozy wallflower home? What if I botch the message I want to share? What if God calls me to reveal something deeply personal?
For these questions, I found encouragement in 1 Corinthians 3 about our work as God’s servants. First and foremost…
we are all servants of God (v. 5). We belong to a community of like-minded believers, writers wanting to nurture our readers with God’s truth, a truth we can plant alone but not nurture alone. As part of God’s ministry team…
we have built-in writing support (v. 6). This team supports us in our writing and we support their writing as well (through critique groups, through book launch teams, on social media, through prayer, etc.). By tending to our own stories as well as contributing to others’ writing journeys…
we work together in God’s service (v. 9). Our writing offers fields of nourishment, for example, a soldier might write a book of their experiences with PTSD that provides spiritual nourishment for other soldiers. Our writing offers a shelter of understanding, for example, a blogger whom God has healed from alcoholism might build a shelter for an alcoholic seeking refuge from temptation. Our writing ministry combined with others’ expands our Kingdom reach.
When we write in fear of success, our work may stay merely a seed in the ground. And seeds that stay in the ground end up rotting. Instead, let’s call upon our fellow workers to help us build stories on the foundation of Christ. Let’s come together in his name to grow bountiful fields and to build useful buildings. Let’s turn the spotlight from us to God, whose love helps us grow through our community and uses our writing as part of his ministry.
1 Corinthians 3:9 (ESV)—For we are God's fellow workers. You are God's field, God's building.
Job 42:2 (ESV)—“I know that you can do all things, and that no purpose of yours can be thwarted.”
Cue a sad face. Our household had been struck. With the virus. The excitement of our weekend getaway dissolved like salt in hot water, the salty brine a damper on our weekend, no more so than when I hit the Cancel Reservation button for the very first time. Sigh.
Have you ever tried to hit the Cancel button on God? Cue an inward cringe, because who hasn’t been there? Hitting this button obscures the truth that God is sovereign. The message confirming the cancellation says we’re free to question, complain, and challenge God, because why else does debt rule our lives, why did our friend abandon our relationship, why did our child die in a car accident?
The answer to these questions (and more): God is sovereign. He has the power to give and take abundance. Just ask Job.
Thankfully, God also rejects our cancellation request. He fixes our broken spirit, giving us eyes of faith and lips that confess and repent. He restores our souls.
Hebrews 2:1 (ESV)—Therefore we must pay much closer attention to what we have heard, lest we drift away from it.
The soft brush of stringy tentacles wrapped around my leg; it was as if I’d run into a spider web, only I was knee deep in the Atlantic Ocean. Cue a shudder.
Deep down I knew the source of the underwater creature, but still my mind said, “Please not a shark!”
At another bump against my leg, I plunged my hand in, grabbed the offending entity, and flung the seaweed away from me. Toward the other seaweed floating in the waves, not to mention the seaweed along the shoreline.
The unknown creatures of the (knee) deep can cause us to lose our grip on reality. The little bumps in our journey may make us feel lonely. Maybe we question God’s purpose for our struggles because our worst fear came true. Or maybe the little fears have us dreaming up the worst-case scenario (nothing like seaweed to make your brain scream, “Jellyfish!”)
Our deep-down truth, though, is God has paid for our salvation. This message moors us to God. Loneliness is a human emotion, but in these moments we can talk with God as did Job and Jeremiah. Struggles happen, but God uses them to refine us and achieve his plan. And fears, love banishes them, so if we have God’s love, we do not have to fear.
The evidence of God’s love and plans surround us. The truth reminds us to not worry about the creatures living deep down in the unknown. We can toss away our fears like a handful of seaweed and trust in the knowledge that he has saved us.
Psalm 51:11–13 (ESV)—Cast me not away from your presence, and take not your Holy Spirit from me. Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and uphold me with a willing spirit. Then I will teach transgressors your ways, and sinners will return to you.
A beautiful day beckoned with sunshine and seventy-degree weather. So my husband and I drove to a local state park, where we established ourselves on the dock, with camping chairs and books.
A few chapters into my book, I heard a shuffle that stole my attention from reading. Given no other people on the dock with us, I turned my head toward the sound.
A raccoon climbed onto the top of the trash can, pressed open the lid, disappeared inside, and came out dragging trash and discarded food. It hauled its meal into the overgrowth of trees and bushes.
Not a long time later, it emerged again, head peeking out from tall grasses. The creature scurried the same path to the trash can, climbed the wooden railings and onto the receptacle, then pushed open the door and emerged once again.
Watching this masked bandit, I thought it seemed ultra familiar with the location and ins and outs of this receptacle. Now, I wonder about the health of this (undeniably cute) trash thief. It takes the path back and forth from human food to natural home in the trees. The food fills its stomach, but it doesn’t receive its daily nutritional needs.
Like the raccoon, I sometimes find myself digging in the trash (metaphorically, of course) to try to find sustenance. For example, after a vacation, my hubby and I often hash out our trip. “What could have gone better” is an often-discussed topic, like that bedroom in the shared condo where we had to walk into the hallway for the bathroom. Affordable but awkward, to say the least. By the end of our nitpicking, I usually end up with a furrowed brow and a bad feeling. Not good for my mental health, for certain.
Our spiritual health also suffers when we try to find nutrition in the past rather than in the present in the presence of God. When we pull a sin from the trash, we’re tempted to pick it apart and mull over the negative aspects. Going back and forth to the same thing over and over again isn’t healthy.
Fortunately, this psalm of David shows us a better way of examining our sin: in light of God’s mercy and grace. Our past sins don’t hold us in the past but rather, when treated properly, sustain our spirit now and in the future. Our repentance puts praise on our tongues that can motivate others to seek the same forgiveness. A lesson that reaches further than any nitpicking of “what could have gone better.”
The better is in the sustenance of the Spirit, and only God’s love and mercy can help us find peace for our sins.
