John 4:34-38

Think about everything that contributed to the story of how you came to know Christ as your Lord and Savior. It’s probably not possible to fully count all those spiritual seeds that God used to draw you to Him. And not all the people who sowed good seed into your life knew what the outcome would be.

We also have the opportunity and privilege–every single day–of sowing seeds into the lives of others, such as our friends, co-workers, children, grandchildren, or even strangers. God takes what you plant and adds to it. He leads others to sow further seed or “water” the ground. Little by little, truth gets cultivated in their lives. What greater thing could you do?

Conversely, you might focus on providing your kids with plenty of material security and send them to the best schools and colleges–and yet it would count nothing for eternity. But when you sow into their lives the things of God and the qualities of Jesus, you’re feeding their spirits. The seeds that affect their hearts, view of God, and desire to make a difference for Him in the world are what will produce genuine, lasting fruit and a great harvest in their lives. Whether or not you ever see the results, the Lord is using you profoundly when you sow this kind of crop.

God sees all the little things you do; He’s interested in more than just “big” things. The fruit of His Spirit–such as kindness, patience, and self-control–often manifests itself in quiet ways that others may never give you credit for. But such spiritual seeds accomplish powerful work in His kingdom.

The Christian Vision Project was an initiative that began each of three consecutive years with a question. The aim was to stir thought, creativity, and faithfulness within the Christian church around the subjects of culture, mission, and gospel. In 2006, project leaders asked a group of Christian thinkers how followers of Christ could be countercultural for the common good. Their answers ranged from becoming our own fiercest critics to experiencing life at the margins, from choosing wisely what to overlook and what to belabor to packing up and moving into the city.

But today one answer in particular comes to mind. To the question of counterculturalism for the common good, professor and author Lauren Winner proposed: More sleep. She quickly admitted the curious nature of her retort. “Surely one could come up with something more other-directed, more sacrificial, less self-serving,” she wrote.  Still, she carefully reasoned through the forces of culture that insist we give up an hour of sleep here, or two hours there–the grinding schedules, the unnerving stock piles of e-mail in need of responses, the early-taught/early-learned push for more and more productivity. Thus, Winner concluded, “It’s not just that a countercultural embrace of sleep bears witness to values higher than ‘the cares of this world, the deceitfulness of riches, and the desire for other things.’ A night of good sleep—a week, or month, or year of good sleep—also testifies to the basic Christian story of Creation. We are creatures, with bodies that are finite and contingent.”(1) We are also bodies living within a culture generally terrified of aging, uncomfortable with death, and desperate for our accomplishments to distract us. “The unarguable demands that our bodies make for sleep are a good reminder that we are mere creatures,” Winner concludes. “[I]t is God and God alone who ‘neither slumbers nor sleeps.'”(2)

Last week the Christian church celebrated Ash Wednesday, the day on the Christian calendar that urges humanity to remember its condition with countercultural audacity. The season of Lent, the forty days in which Christians prepare to encounter the events of Easter, begins by proclaiming the humble beginnings of creatureliness. The ashes of Ash Wednesday starkly remind us of the dust we came from and the dust to which we will return. On this day, foreheads are marked with a bold and ashen cross of dust, recalling both our history and our future, invoking repentance, inciting stares. Marked with his cross, we are Christ’s own: pilgrims on a journey that proclaims death and suffering, life and resurrection all at once. The journey through Lent into the light and darkness of Holy Week is for those made in dust who will return to dust, those willing to trace the breath that began all of life to the place where Christ breathed his last. It is a journey that expends everything within us. To pick up the cross and follow him is to be reminded at every step that we are mere creatures, and he has come near our humanity to show us what that word originally meant.

In fact, in the season that marches the church toward the vast and terrible events of Holy Week, there are times when we may justifiably feel like the disciples, weary with sorrow, our own eyes heavy with sleep. Current world events and worn-out cries of anguish only deepen this wearied exhaustion. Arguably, this innate instinct is fitting. “[T]o sleep, long and soundly,” says Winner, “is to place our trust not in our own strength and hard work, but in him without whom we labor in vain.”(3) We cannot carry all that Christ carried anymore than we can carry the sorrows we now see all around us. Yet, where we are prone to exchange sound and trusting sleep for fretful slumber, helpless sorrow, or apathetic fatigue, Christ emerges through his own weariness to wake us. “Are you still sleeping and taking your rest? See, the hour is at hand” (Matthew 26:45).

The journey toward the Cross is one that will show both the Christian and a world of contrasting beliefs that we are all finite, fragile creatures in need of a guide, in need of sleep, in need of one who can bear far more than we are able. The Cross will also show that the one we need truly exists. While his friends slept, Jesus stepped closer toward betrayal and agony, going all the way to his death, so that one day he could wake us for good:  “Wake up, O sleeper, rise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you” (Ephesians 5:14). The journey from dust to dust and back to the Father’s house would be far too great without him.

 Jill Carattini is managing editor of A Slice of Infinity at Ravi Zacharias International Ministries in Atlanta, Georgia.

(1) Lauren Winner, Books & Culture, January/February 2006, Vol. 12, No. 1, Page 7.
(2) Ibid.
(3) Ibid.

Now we have received . . . The spirit who is from God, that we might understand the things freely given us by God.

1 Corinthians 2:12

Dear reader, have you received the Spirit who is from God? The necessity of the work of the Holy Spirit in the heart may be clearly seen from this fact, that all which has been done by God the Father and by God the Son will be ineffectual to us unless the Spirit reveals these things to our souls. What effect does the doctrine of election have upon any man until the Spirit of God enters into him?

Election is a dead letter in my consciousness until the Spirit of God calls me out of darkness into marvelous light. Then through my calling, I see my election, and knowing myself to be called of God, I know myself to have been chosen in the eternal purpose. A covenant was made with the Lord Jesus Christ by His Father; but what good is that covenant to us until the Holy Spirit brings us its blessings and opens our hearts to receive them? These blessings in Christ Jesus are beyond our reach, but the Spirit of God takes them down and hands them to us, and so they actually become ours.

Covenant blessings in themselves are like bread in heaven, far out of mortal reach, but the Spirit of God opens the windows of heaven and scatters the living bread around the camp of the redeemed. Christ’s finished work is like wine stored in the wine-vat; through unbelief we can neither draw nor drink. The Holy Spirit dips our vessel into this precious wine, and then we drink; but without the Spirit we are as truly dead in sin as though the Father never had elected, and though the Son had never bought us with His blood. The Holy Spirit is absolutely necessary to our well-being. Let us walk lovingly toward Him and tremble at the thought of grieving Him.

2 Corinthians 4:1-18

The apostle Paul often wrote about perseverance. He urged believers not to tire of following Christ and doing good, even when persecuted. The reason was that in time, their faithfulness to plant seeds would produce an amazing harvest.

If anyone had a right to say that, it was Paul. He’d been beaten, stoned, whipped, and driven out of town. He’d survived riots, shipwrecks, illness, and abandonment. He had a thousand reasons to be disheartened and want to give up, yet he knew his obedience to God wasn’t in vain. Some might surmise, Well, it doesn’t look as if he reaped much: he was persecuted, moved from prison to prison, and eventually executed. But if we assume that rewards come only in material terms, we miss a powerful truth.

Consider the awesome harvest that actually resulted from the apostle’s faithfulness. For one thing, the gospel spread across the Roman Empire, and the early church grew far beyond the Jewish world. And the seeds Paul planted by writing his epistles resulted in billions of lives being radically changed. Any strength we draw from these letters is fruit of the hardships he endured. Yet when he urged believers never to tire of obeying the Lord, he didn’t know the full extent of the impact his life would have. He just believed in the power of faith.

Do you realize how impactful your life is? Don’t be deceived by Satan’s lie that your suffering or obedience will amount to nothing. Here’s the truth: Your faithfulness to God never goes to waste–it’s making an eternal difference in someone’s life, whether you know it or not

“God loves you and has a wonderful plan for your life” was a slogan I heard over and over again as I grew up. As a young person, this slogan meant that all my plans would be wonderful because God loved me. Now that I am older, I understand that this slogan had more to do with the Christian gospel’s understanding of salvation than it did with guiding me down the primrose path of life. Yet, it still reverberates in my head when I experience hardship, pain, and loss. How does one square a belief in the love of God with a series of professional and personal failures and hardships?

The seeming contradictions between stated beliefs and life experience make faith complicated. For me, many of the cherished beliefs I held imploded, and what was once a fortress came crashing down as life experience smashed up against them like a battering ram. In the aftermath, the alternative shelters of cynical doubt or blind faith beckon. For many in this predicament, we run perilously between both extremes, without a strong sense of security that the fortress once provided.

Yet there are so many, past and present, who have experienced the difficult conflict between what was held to be the truth and what was experienced in life. Knowing this gives me comfort that I am not alone. I am reminded of the biblical narrative of Joseph as one example. He was told by God through a sequence of dreams that he would be great one day—so great, in fact that his own brothers would come and bow down in reverence for him. He had been given a glimpse of his destiny as God’s dearly loved child, and perhaps he believed his path to that destiny would be paved with gold. Instead, his gilded trip to glory turned into an attempted murder by his own brothers, his enslavement, and spending a portion of his life in prison having been falsely accused of various crimes he did not commit. How could this be the path to glory God supposedly promised to provide for Joseph?

Joseph’s trust in a God who loved him and had compassion on him was now being challenged by this confusing demonstration of divine care. Sitting in his jail cell, I’m sure Joseph wondered about his dreams of glory as he grappled with his nightmarish existence. How could things go so badly for one who put his trust in a loving God?

The story of Joseph’s life ends up in glory. Made second in command of all of Egypt, his position ultimately saves his family and the people of Israel from famine and starvation. Despite the contradiction between his life experience and what he thought he knew about God, Joseph came to affirm that God is good and trustworthy. How did he arrive at this conclusion?

Even though the narrative doesn’t state this explicitly, it is hard to imagine that Joseph didn’t wrestle with God during all that time in prison. Like his father Jacob, Joseph wrestled with God in the seemingly contradictory details of his life experience. In the process of this wrestling, God gave him a new perspective and a deeper understanding. But that new perspective is not lightly gained. Noted author and pastor Craig Barnes poignantly describes the emergence of new perspectives as the very process of total conversion:

“The deep fear behind every loss is that we have been abandoned by the God who should have saved us. The transforming moment in Christian conversion comes when we realize that even God has left us. We then discover it was not God, but our image of God that abandoned us…. Only then is change possible.”(1)

Indeed, Joseph reveals his new perspective to his brothers who betrayed him: “As for you, you meant evil against me but God meant it for good in order to bring about this present result, to preserve many people alive” (Genesis 50:20). This is no biblical cliche. Joseph did witness God’s intervention and care. But not in the way he expected. If we know intuitively that life doesn’t always go as planned, perhaps we too can gain a new perspective and a new vision as a result of wrestling through the contradictions and conundrums. Perhaps as we realize that though our image of God has abandoned us, the real God will yet be revealed. It is a perspective not easily gained and it may not come from our eyes, but from God’s eyes.

Margaret Manning is a member of the speaking and writing team at Ravi Zacharias International Ministries in Seattle, Washington.

 (1) M. Craig Barnes, When God Interrupts: Finding New Life Through Unwanted Change. (Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press, 1996), 123.

The jar of flour was not spent, neither did the jug of oil become empty, according to the word of the Lord that he spoke by Elijah.

1 Kings 17:16

Consider the faithfulness of divine love. It is clear that this woman had daily necessities. She had to feed her son and herself in a time of famine; and now, in addition, the prophet Elijah was also to be fed. But though the need was threefold, the supply was not spent, for it was constant. Each day she made withdrawals from the jar, but each day it remained the same.

You, dear reader, have daily necessities, and because they come so frequently, you are apt to fear that the jar of flour will one day be empty, and the jug of oil will fail you. Rest assured that, according to the Word of God, this shall not be the case. Each day, though it bring its trouble, it shall also bring its help; and though you should live longer than Methuselah, and your needs should be as many as the sands of the seashore, yet God’s grace and mercy will last through all your necessities, and you will never know a real lack.

For three long years, in this widow’s days, the heavens never saw a cloud, and the stars never wept a holy tear of dew upon the wicked earth: famine and desolation and death made the land a howling wilderness, but this woman was never hungry but always joyful in abundance. So it will be with you. You will see the sinner’s hope perish, for he trusts in himself; you will see the proud Pharisee’s confidence crumble, for he builds his hope upon the sand; you will even see your own plans blown apart, but you will discover that your daily needs are amply supplied. Better to have God for your guardian than the Bank of England for your possession. You might spend the wealth of the nations, but you can never exhaust the infinite mercies of God.

The family reading plan for February 28, 2012

Job 29 | 1 Corinthians 15

James 3:9-18

In all our daily choices, we either “sow to the flesh” or “sow to the Spirit” (Gal. 6:8). With our actions and thoughts, we plant seeds that affect what kind of person we’re growing into and the level of impact our lives will have for God.

“The flesh” is the part of us that wants to live and act independently of the Lord. As humans, all of us have to deal with the pull of this attitude; we don’t lose it automatically when we’re saved. However, the Holy Spirit frees us from slavery to the flesh. He begins to change us so we can turn from the deceptive lure of living for self and instead start to live according to the truth. The choices we make contribute to the process of transformation, and when they’re in alignment with the Spirit’s work, they plant good seed that results in even more new growth.

When you’re sowing to the Spirit, you’re accepting God’s truth into your mind and heart. Then you’ll begin to experience eternal life, which comes from truly knowing the Lord (John 17:3). The fruit of the Spirit grows naturally from these seeds of godly truth and influences every aspect of your life. When you feed your spirit with the things of God, you’re going to become stronger, more Christlike, and more full of His life in your thoughts and actions.

Are you feeding your spirit and the wellspring of your life, or are you feeding the part of you that wants to act independently of God? Do your choices sow seeds that are building you up, making you different, and letting streams of living water flow from you to nourish others (John 7:37-39)

A classic vaudeville routine begins with a pitch-black theater except for a large circle of light coming from a street lamp. In the spotlight, a man is on his knees, crawling with his hands in front of him, carefully probing the lighted circle. After a few moments a policeman walks on stage. Seeing the man on all fours, he poses the obvious question: “Did you lose some­thing?”

“Yes,” the man replies. “I have lost my keys.”

Kindly, the police officer joins the man’s search, and two figures now circle the lighted area on hands and knees.  After some time, the officer stops. “Are you absolutely certain this is where you lost your keys?  We’ve covered every inch.”

“Why no,” the man replies matter-of-factly, pointing to a darkened corner. “I lost them over there.”

Visibly shaken, the policeman exclaims, “Well, then why in the name of all heaven are we looking for them over here?”

The man responds with equal annoyance: “Isn’t that obvious?  The light is better over here!”

The classic comedy enacts a subtle point. It is far easier to limit our examining of life’s missing keys to easy, comfortable places. Like a modern parable, the story registers an illogic common to most. Searching dark and difficult corners—where the keys may have in fact been lost—is far less desirable.

Somewhere between reading belittling headlines of a once-popular celebrity and hearing an open invitation to weigh-in on the latest political scandal, I wondered if the drama didn’t register something more. It is becoming increasingly difficult to avoid the signs that we, particularly in the west, live in a world of criticism. We are encouraged by all facets of the media to examine the flaws of everyone, to search for the scandal in every story, and to pour over everything that divides us, offends us, or otherwise differs from us in any way.

But more than this, we are encouraged to opine and criticize regardless of whether we know anything about the subject or person whatsoever. Online news articles have a section for comments where readers are invited to put their own remarks in writing. And comment they do. The long list of critics offers thoughts on anything from the topic, to the author, to things completely unrelated. Carrying this one step further, Amazon not only invites anyone to be an official book reviewer; they also invite anyone to comment on these comments, to vote on whether or not the reviewers themselves need to be critiqued. While I appreciate some of these services, the attitude they endorse seems so pervasive. Everyone is now a critic and an expert at once.

And this is where the man in the drama seems unquestionably familiar. How easy is it to search where the light is strong, to examine the faults and scandals of others as if it were the best place to logically spend our time? As the light of the media shines on an individual or the light of gossip draws our attention like searchlights to a grand opening, how easy is it to declare this particular spot the place we will fully scrutinize? How readily do we prefer to be critics of those in the spotlight rather than fumble over our own flaws in the dark?

In the Christian season of Lent, where some attempt the darkened option of self-examination, it is helpful to know that Jesus was aware just how tempting is the option of the easier route. “Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own? … You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye” (Matthew 7:3-4). The flaws we see in pop-stars, politicians, and co-workers may seem so startlingly clear to us. The critiques and opinions we can so readily offer about books and public scandal, internal gossip and things about which we actually know little all may seem innocent enough. But might there not be a better place to spend our energy searching? Maybe we are looking where the light is strong, but not where keys are really lost.

An old proverb explains, “The mocker seeks wisdom and finds none, but knowledge comes easily to the discerning.” Perhaps this is true because the mocker spends his time searching the comfortable places of life, the easy targets where light and company will always be found. The difficult, dimly-lighted places require much more of us, and often we are left to search on our own. But the discerning know that wisdom comes with the kind of seeking that pulls us inward, into places where there is actually something to find, and before a throne that compels transparency. Here, everyone who seeks finds, the lost themselves are discovered, and once dark corners of the soul are changed by the light of Christ.  

. . . Whose origin is from of old, from ancient days.

Micah 5:2

The Lord Jesus had purposes for His people as their representative before the throne, long before they appeared upon the stage of time. It was “from ancient days” that He signed the contract with His Father that He would pay blood for blood, suffering for suffering, agony for agony, and death for death on behalf of His people; it was “from ancient days” that He gave Himself up without a murmuring word.

From the crown of His head to the sole of His foot, He sweat great drops of blood; He was spat upon, pierced, mocked, torn, and crushed beneath the pains of death. All of this was “from ancient days.” Let our souls pause in wonder at God’s purposes from of old. Not only when you were born into the world did Christ love you, but His delights were with the sons of men before there were any sons of men! He often thought of them; from everlasting to everlasting He had set His affection upon them.

Since He has been so long about your salvation, will not He accomplish it? Has He from everlasting been going forth to save me, and will He lose me now? It is inconceivable that having carried me in His hand, as His precious jewel, He would let me now slip from between His fingers. Did He choose me before the mountains were brought forth or the channels of the ocean were formed, and will He reject me now? Impossible! I am sure He would not have loved me for so long if He had not been a faithful Lover. If He could grow weary of me, He would have been tired of me long before now. If He had not loved me with a love as deep as hell and as strong as death, He would have turned from me long ago. What joy above all joys to know that I am His everlasting and inalienable inheritance, given to Him by His Father before the earth was formed! Everlasting love shall be the pillow on which I rest my head tonight.

The family reading plan for February 27, 2012

Job 28 | 1 Corinthians 14

Galatians 6:7-10

Satan wants us to believe the lie that our actions have no natural results or consequences. But the truth is that you can’t rebel against God and not reap the fruit of that choice later. You also can’t obey God without eventually receiving the blessing. The choices you make are the seeds you plant, and they determine the kind of crop you’re going to reap in the future.

The heart of this principle is that all our choices are important. How we think and act matters, and not only for ourselves. our choices always impact other people, for good or bad. Think about the seeds others sowed that affected your view of yourself and the world. You either rejected or accepted them, and the things you accepted eventually manifested in your life.

At some point, we all have made choices we’ve regretted. Since consequences never simply evaporate, you may find yourself harassed or even governed by things you’ve seen, said, or participated in. Yet God will forgive everything you genuinely repent of, and He will work with you to redeem those past choices. The road to redemption often includes obstacles, but His Spirit can enable you to overcome. Lay your burden down before the Lord every time it weighs on you, and request that He cleanse and shape you into the person you were created to be.

Ask yourself the following three questions: What kind of life do I want to live? What do I want my character to be like? Who do I want to become years from now? Let the Holy Spirit speak to you about your choices–past, present and future–and His plans for you