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.
Daniel 5:20 (ESV)—But when his heart was lifted up and his spirit was hardened so that he dealt proudly, he was brought down from his kingly throne, and his glory was taken from him.
The waves rose and crashed near the shoreline. Boogie board in hand, I waded into the Hawaiian waters, confident of my skills.
I have this.
As the sun moved across the sky, the waves swelled bigger. My earlier confidence waned and my countenance changed.
I’ve done this before. Of course I can do this.
I charged back toward the waves. The swell grew and I craned my neck upward, and I ran toward the shore. Fun being had and husband in the water with me, I scanned the waves and, once again, stepped out deeper.
I’m not going to run this time.
The large swell rose on the surface, growing, growing, growing. I pressed my feet into the sand and launched myself forward.
Only I misjudged and the wave pressed me down, underwater, onto sandy ground. Surfacing and spitting out a mouthful of saltwater, I walked as fast as possible to the sandy shore and collapsed on my beach towel.
King Belshazzar’s story begins with wine drunk from the holy temple vessels, all while “[praising] the gods of gold and silver, bronze, iron, wood, and stone” (Daniel 5:4)—his version of a day at the beach, for sure. However, his countenance of wine-fueled merriment changed when he saw a hand writing on the wall. He called upon the enchanters, Chaldeans, and astrologers to interpret the writing. He boosted his confidence with an offer to clothe in purple, put a gold chain around the neck of, and declare the third ruler in the kingdom the person who could interpret the writing for him.
These servants could not interpret the message. A metaphorical wave smacking him in the face, the king became “alarmed” (Daniel 5:9).
At this point, the queen reminded him of a man named Daniel, who had in him “the spirit of the holy gods.” So the king called on the holy gods. Daniel, a God-fearing man, said he did not want the king’s offerings but would interpret.
Daniel’s interpretation swelled like a tsunami. King Belshazzar had not learned the lesson of his father, King Nebuchadnezzar, that these holy gods did not have control, that God was sovereign. He also learned his reign was ending.
After Daniel gave his grave interpretation, Belshazzar spit out his mouthful of saltwater and made another attempt to stay in control, it seemed. He upheld his promise of clothing Daniel in purple, putting a gold chain around his neck, and making him third ruler of the kingdom.
On that night, the king was killed.
The writing on the wall may come subtly at first, like gentle swells in the ocean. But when we ignore these calls from God, and instead rely on our own power, the writing on the walls becomes more intense. The intensity may be our sign from God that it’s time to turn to him and that we’re relying more on ourselves than on him.
In these moments, an examination of our past choices can reveal when our choices belonged to God and when they belonged to ourselves. If we trust as Daniel did, and trust his past goodness extends to the future, we can rest assured “[God] will divide the spoils with the strong, because he poured out his life unto death, and was numbered with the transgressors. For he bore the sin of many, and made intercession for the transgressors” (Isaiah 53:11–12). Indeed, he will clothe us in purple in his time.
Daniel 3:26 (ESV)—Then Nebuchadnezzar came near to the door of the burning fiery furnace; he declared, “Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, servants of the Most High God, come out, and come here!” Then Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego came out from the fire.
Hand wrapped around a yellow Neutrogena bottle, I squeezed and thick, white lotion spurted into my hand. Slathered on, the lotion formed a transparent white smear on my legs, and I danced to the water to cool my sand-scorched toes.
After a while, I returned to the shore, slapping on more SPF 50. Only this time, sunscreen mixed with sand, leaving a gritty layer on my skin and, later, the realization I’d missed a spot and gained a touch of sunburn on my left foot.
King Nebuchadnezzar of Babylon offered Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego a sunscreen of sorts: worship his golden idol to avoid death in a furnace. The three Hebrew men had to choose to worship Nebuchadnezzar’s god and live or to stay faithful to their God and face death. A temporary measure, for sure, given this king’s past threats on these men’s lives (read Daniel 1).
Did they apply the offered sunscreen to protect themselves from the king’s threats? No. They chose the only surefire method of coming out without a touch of sunburn: God. The men refused to worship any other god and the king ordered them thrown into a fire hot enough to kill the men who delivered them to the furnace.
These men, when faced with death, did not apply the sunscreen of living in the shadow of an earthly king; they chose to live in the light of the true God. Their walking out of the fire without even singed hair or a whiff of smoke on their bodies proved God’s power even to Nebuchadnezzar (who, may I add, still tried to display his own power by threatening to kill anyone who spoke against God).
Indeed, God’s power protects better than the threats of any earthly king, greater than any protection we try to apply to ourselves. God offers us the only fail-proof protection. He gives us as his followers “great salvation” and “shows [us] steadfast love” (2 Samuel 22:51), better than any SPF that fades with time.
And like Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, we can walk into the fire without fear and come out as a shining example of God’s power to overcome any trial. Who needs sunscreen when we follow the God who saves?
Daniel 1:2 (ESV)—And the Lord gave Jehoiakim king of Judah into his hand, with some of the vessels of the house of God. And he brought them to the land of Shinar, to the house of his god, and placed the vessels in the treasury of his god.
The pattern carved into gypsum sands shifted with my shoe prints, a mere blip for the weather and wind to transform into other patterns of swirls and arcs. The dunes at White Sands National Monument (now National Park) shift daily but remain rooted in the Chihuahuan Desert by an aquifer beneath the surface, I learned from the park ranger leading a tour.
More than a mere blip, “the Lord [giving] Jehoiakin king of Judah into [King Nebuchadnezzar’s] hand” (Daniel 1:2) changed the life of Daniel, Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah. The pattern of their life became one of trying to please the king while worshipping the King.
Nebuchadnezzar assigned them to eat the king’s food, food probably against Mosaic law and offered to idols. Not wanting to partake, Daniel spoke with the chief of eunuchs to ask for exemption from eating this food. The servant of the king did not want to allow this, fearing the king may take his life.
In response, Daniel suggested a ten-day test of vegetables and water. The end of the test would prove the healthier individuals. The four Hebrew men reigned supreme in the eyes of the king, and this altered the menu at the king’s table.
God’s work shines in this chapter. While the “Lord gave” (Daniel 1:2) Daniel and his friends to Nebuchadnezzar, he also “gave Daniel favor and compassion in the sight of the chief of eunuchs” (Daniel 1:9) and “gave them learning and skill in all literature and wisdom” and gave “Daniel understanding in all visions and dreams” (Daniel 1:17).
Through every shift, Daniel remained rooted in his faith, serving the King who reigns above all kings, and we’d do well to do the same. Our faithfulness roots us in God during every windswept shift and provides us consistency amid every change. Our roots drink the water of true life that sustains us in every situation.
Psalm 23:4 (ESV)—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.
Many a valley has captured my attention. I’ve hiked the hills of Glenwood Springs, Colorado, gazing down on yellow aspens in the fall. In Switzerland, I’ve gawked at the Alps from a train car winding its way through the rugged mountains, the valley views spectacular from above and below. I’ve sat in the passenger seat while my husband drove us on the winding Pacific Coast Highway, traveling from valley through clouds and above the clouds, the white floor stretching out like a vast flatland meadow.
Valleys give us good reason to not fear “the valley of the shadow of death.” The valley is alive with God’s creation. The trees provide the oxygen we need to live; bathe us in shade on hot summer days; and of course give us a tangible, up-close picture of God’s creation. Clouds can warm the earth at night, protect us from the sun’s heat during the day, cast rain on the earth, and warn of inclement weather.
The valley also plays host to God’s people, and God uses the valley to protect and provide for his people. For example, in the story of Isaac and Abimelek, Isaac moved to the Valley of Gerar, after the Philistines filled the wells of his father, Abraham. Isaac’s people dug more wells, but others disputed ownership of the first two. The third, undisputed by others, “he named it Rehoboth, saying, ‘Now the Lord has given us room and we will flourish in the land’” (Genesis 26:22).
The valley, though sometimes shaded with our troubles, also offers hope. From the valley, we can move our gaze upward to our Father and pray for his provision and protection. Indeed, when we feel as if we’re in a valley, we can “abide in the shadow of the Almighty,” our “refuge and fortress” (Psalm 91:1–2).
Ruth 1:16 (ESV)—But Ruth said, “Do not urge me to leave you or to return from following you. For where you go I will go, and where you lodge I will lodge. Your people shall be my people, and your God my God.
While on vacation, I’ve stayed in studios with tile floors and beach access, downtown apartments with charming brick walls and dark-stained wood trim, lodges with mountain views, and motel rooms with king-size beds but only a sliver of space to walk around said beds. These homes away from home can of course come with problems. Mattresses with not an ounce of padding. Lack of outlets to plug in electronics. Suffocating smoke smell on every surface.
But that’s the thing about homes away from home, they’re not always comfortable, or clean, or luxurious. The same applies to our temporary home on earth. Money becomes tight. Cars break down. We lose our jobs. Yet, like Ruth, we have a choice about how to deal with the hardships. Do we make our home on earth, or do we make our home with God?
Naomi and Ruth, after loss of their husbands, pondered these questions. Naomi, whose husband came from Bethlehem, urged her daughters-in-law, Ruth and Orpah, to stay in Moab, their homeland, and marry Moabite men. Orpah chose the home most familiar to her; Ruth chose not only Bethlehem, not only Naomi, but also, and most importantly, God. A Moabite widow, Ruth’s life became ripe with hardships. Rather than despair, she made her home with Elohim instead of multiples gods, and God’s provision served her well.
In making her home with God, Ruth gleaned food from the field of a righteous man, a kinsman-redeemer, no less. This man, Boaz, accepted her proposal of kinsman-redeemer and praised her for her high character, working with a closer kinsman-redeemer before being able to marry Ruth. After Boaz and Ruth married, they became parents to a son, Obed, who became “the father of Jesse, the father of David” (Ruth 4:17, ESV)—a genealogical line that continued on to Jesus!
Like Ruth’s earthly home, ours has its share of hardships. But if we make our home with God while on earth, our earthly home becomes a place where God can create a beautiful story that ends with us residing in our eternal home.
Proverbs 4:23 (ESV)—Keep your heart with all vigilance, for from it flow the springs of life.
Walking along the gravel road, past houses tucked into the trees, I came upon a fork in the road that did not lead to a house. I picked up my pace, rounding onto the path, and froze. A deer grazed at the edge of the of the path overlooking the lake shimmering in the sunshine.
Gaze set on the deer, I saw movement to the side. Another deer sat in the grass. I stood, mesmerized, not daring to move, knowing the crunch of gravel a dead giveaway to my presence.
Yet another deer stepped from the trees, but this one stared straight at me, neck stiff, ears alert. It stepped a few steps closer, freezing in place for a few seconds then pawing at the ground and bobbing its head. This doe sensed something not quite right in her world, a threat to her safety, to her herd. The moment I stepped backward, her deer instincts told her to run.
Guarding our hearts requires being on the lookout for spiritual threats, for the devil’s prowling (1 Peter 5:8). Satan prepares for us a rutted path with hidden potholes to make us unsteady on our feet. No, the threats of Satan are not always obvious and he will attempt to trip us up.
If we perceive a threat from Satan, like deer perceive a threat from a human presence, how do we protect our spirit? Looking to Scripture and praying for God-given wisdom helps us to assess the threat. Our daily Bible readings and prayers fill our minds with God’s Word, protecting our hearts from the devil’s lies. Our submission to God and his Word causes the devil to flee (James 4:7). The living Word helps us to fight off Satan’s schemes, guiding our attitudes and thoughts (Hebrews 4:12). Yes, the tenets of God’s Word guide us in righteous living and help us resist the devil’s temptations.
Matthew 8:24–27 (ESV)—And behold, there arose a great storm on the sea, so that the boat was being swamped by the waves; but he was asleep. And they went and woke him, saying, “Save us, Lord; we are perishing.” And he said to them, “Why are you afraid, O you of little faith?” Then he rose and rebuked the winds and the sea, and there was a great calm. And the men marveled, saying, “What sort of man is this, that even winds and sea obey him?”
A snorkeling excursion—my first—on my honeymoon took my husband and I off the coast of Barbados. The sunshine shimmered on the turquoise sea, goggles complete with snorkel tube perched on top of my head, and a life jacket wrapped around my upper body.
I edged toward the back of the boat, behind others from our tour. Deep breath in, I jumped. Salt water splashed my face; I spluttered and swayed my feet.
All the while, a hint of panic set in and I snatched my husband’s arm. “Hubby, I can’t touch the bottom.”
The guide, hearing my panicked whispers, swam to us and handed me the more substantial, bright-orange life preserver. I bear-hugged the flotation device until I felt calm.
Why was I so afraid in that moment? Perhaps because I sink like a rock in the water. Maybe because I’d never ventured into water so deep, always before having the anchor of sand beneath my feet. Or, just a thought, fear settled in like a shark sinking it teeth into its dinner.
Indeed, fear caused me to falter even though I wore a life jacket. My fear overwhelmed my sense of safety because I did not understand the enormous effect on my mind of my feet being anchored to the sandy floor.
Another anchor, fear, can drown us if we don’t have knowledge of the magnitude of God’s might. The disciples learned this lesson from their fear of drowning in a storm, even though Jesus lay on the boat with them, having performed miracles in sight of the disciples that very day.
In the midst of the gales rocking the boat and waves filling it like a bathtub, the disciples needed more understanding of Jesus when fear rocked up and sank in its teeth—and did Jesus provide a showstopper. He calmed the sea, and the disciples stood in awe. Their knowledge of God’s power grew and that moment likely stayed with them as they did God’s work and faced hardship in the future.
It is understanding of God’s might that anchors our faith and helps us to trust God with one-hundred-percent confidence. Wisdom gained from God’s Word helps us to fight and defeat fear and to hear God speak over the cacophony of the storm.
