1 Peter 1:6-7

God is always at work in our lives. Even during seasons of adversity, He wants to accomplish something powerful and good. How should this knowledge affect our response? Today’s passage teaches us to choose to rejoice during difficult times. This doesn’t mean we have to be happy about the hardship itself. Instead, joy comes from drawing close to the Lord and believing steadfastly that through His redemptive power, He is growing and preparing us. If your usual response to trials is anxiety, anger, or depression, the idea of having joy in the midst of a negative situation might not seem logical. However, if you look beneath the surface, you will discover that this biblical directive makes sense for several reasons.

Often, our natural reaction to pain is to run in the opposite direction, and as fast as possible. However, God wants to teach us endurance–much like a long-distance runner builds up strength in training–so that we can fully benefit from what He is doing in our hearts. He uses trials as a refining fire to purify us like gold and bring us to greater spiritual maturity. As we realize that we are actually being made more complete through our adversities, we’ll begin to face challenging times with confidence that He always has our best interest in mind.

While a worldly viewpoint sees hope and joy in the midst of dark times as naïve, a spiritual perspective discerns that we’re really progressing on a journey toward life at its fullest. We can be filled with supernatural joy, knowing that the Lord is making us into world-changing spiritual warriors.

 Growing up, I had a pathological fear of getting lost. It didn’t matter if it was in a nearby cornfield that bordered our burgeoning suburbia, or on the busy highways connecting the vast metropolis in which I lived. For me, getting lost was a fate worse than death. While I wish I could pinpoint the origin of this fear, I cannot. Sure, I had the normal mishaps in which I was separated from my family—and I certainly remember numerous times in which I got lost driving. In the days before GPS, I relied not only on hand-written directions, but also on my ability to interpret them when encountering the street-level reality. The twists and turns in the roads often seemed to contradict the directions I had been given! Even today, living in a world in which we have GPS and Google Maps, I can still be turned in the wrong direction. New construction and detours move cars around the city streets in ever changing patterns that conspire to make even the most sophisticated GPS system sputter and fail.   

 When I feel I am lost, there is a deep terror that seizes me. Gripped by a feeling of panic, I am prevented from anything like clear thinking. I feel constricted within, my mind swimming with all of the worst possibilities that will befall me because I am lost. I can only focus in on my terror and I lose all sense of perspective with regards to finding my way. Perhaps the deepest anxiety that accompanies those instances of feeling lost is that I am all alone. I am not only separated from my bearings, but also from anyone who knows me, loves me, or cares about me. In these moments of panic, I feel I will wander alone and wonder how or if I will ever be found.

 In the life of people of faith, there is also the fear of being lost. What if believing the wrong thing leads one off course? What if wrong choices lead down a path from which one might never return? What if doubt separates one from all guidance and direction? Many times, we associate being lost with a deliberate turning away from faith by those who are rebellious, or who, like prodigal sons and daughters, desire escape to a far country away from the controlling gaze of those perceived to hinder freedom of movement in any way.      

 But what about those cases in which the directional equipment fails through no fault of those who seek their guidance? What about those unanticipated twists and turns in the road? What about the unexpected storm that arises and blows the ship far off course? There are certainly those times when disorientation, rather than rebellion obscures the path home. 

 Perhaps in these cases, ‘feeling’ lost is not the same thing as ‘being’ lost.  The ancient Hebrew psalmist suggests that even while one might ‘feel’ lost, one is never lost to God. Where can I go from your presence? Where can I hide from your love? In the midst of his own disorienting experiences, the psalmist found comfort in the fact that even while feeling lost and submerged in the remotest parts of the sea, even there your right hand will lay hold of me. When encompassed by utter darkness, the psalmist believes that the night is as bright as the day.  The psalmist felt lost—disoriented by the forces that would obstruct the clear way. Yet, in the midst of these feelings, the psalmist affirms the abiding presence of God even in the most desolate places.   

This image of the ever-abiding presence of God is extended in the ministry and teaching of Jesus. Jesus expands this image of the God who is especially near, not only to those who ‘feel’ lost, but for those deemed ‘lost’ by others. When the religious leaders of his day grumbled over the tax-gatherers and sinners coming near to listen to him teach, Jesus offered three images of a God who relentlessly seeks the lost in Luke’s gospel narrative.(1) The shepherd leaves the ninety-nine sheep in order to go after the one which is lost; the woman who has ten silver coins turns her house upside down in order to find the one coin she has lost; and the father of the prodigal son is watching and waiting such that he sees his once wayward son while he is still a long way off. In fact, Jesus summarizes his ministry as one that seeks and saves that which was lost.(2)  

This gives me great hope, both for the times when I feel lost, and as I wander alongside many others who have indeed lost their way home. Though some of the directions I’ve tried to follow are indiscernible, and even though I have been turned around and disoriented, I have always found the way home. But, more importantly, even when I feel I have lost my way, I am not lost to the God who pursues me. Like the servant Hagar affirmed when she was lost in the wilderness, you are the God who sees. 

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

 (1) Luke 15
(2) Luke 19:10.  Cf. Matt. 18:11

 Morning “I in them.” / John 17:23

 If such be the union which subsists between our souls and the person of our

Lord, how deep and broad is the channel of our communion! This is no narrow

pipe through which a thread-like stream may wind its way, it is a channel of

amazing depth and breadth, along whose glorious length a ponderous volume of

living water may roll its floods. Behold he hath set before us an open door,

let us not be slow to enter. This city of communion hath many pearly gates,

every several gate is of one pearl, and each gate is thrown open to the

uttermost that we may enter, assured of welcome. If there were but one small

loophole through which to talk with Jesus, it would be a high privilege to

thrust a word of fellowship through the narrow door; how much we are blessed

in having so large an entrance! Had the Lord Jesus been far away from us, with

many a stormy sea between, we should have longed to send a messenger to him to

carry him our loves, and bring us tidings from his Father’s house; but see his

kindness, he has built his house next door to ours, nay, more, he takes

lodging with us, and tabernacles in poor humble hearts, that so he may have

perpetual intercourse with us. O how foolish must we be, if we do not live in

habitual communion with him. When the road is long, and dangerous, and

difficult, we need not wonder that friends seldom meet each other, but when

they live together, shall Jonathan forget his David? A wife may when her

husband is upon a journey, abide many days without holding converse with him,

but she could never endure to be separated from him if she knew him to be in

one of the chambers of her own house. Why, believer, dost not thou sit at his

banquet of wine? Seek thy Lord, for he is near; embrace him, for he is thy

Brother. Hold Him fast, for he is thine Husband; and press him to thine heart,

for he is of thine own flesh.

 

Evening “And these are the singers … they were employed in that work day and night.”

/ 1 Chronicles 9:33

 Well was it so ordered in the temple that the sacred chant never ceased: for

evermore did the singers praise the Lord, whose mercy endureth forever. As

mercy did not cease to rule either by day or by night, so neither did music

hush its holy ministry. My heart, there is a lesson sweetly taught to thee in

the ceaseless song of Zion’s temple, thou too art a constant debtor, and see

thou to it that thy gratitude, like charity, never faileth. God’s praise is

constant in heaven, which is to be thy final dwelling-place, learn thou to

practise the eternal hallelujah. Around the earth as the sun scatters his

light, his beams awaken grateful believers to tune their morning hymn, so that

by the priesthood of the saints perpetual praise is kept up at all hours, they

swathe our globe in a mantle of thanksgiving, and girdle it with a golden belt

of song.

 The Lord always deserves to be praised for what he is in himself, for his

works of creation and providence, for his goodness towards his creatures, and

especially for the transcendent act of redemption, and all the marvellous

blessing flowing therefrom. It is always beneficial to praise the Lord; it

cheers the day and brightens the night; it lightens toil and softens sorrow;

and over earthly gladness it sheds a sanctifying radiance which makes it less

liable to blind us with its glare. Have we not something to sing about at this

moment? Can we not weave a song out of our present joys, or our past

deliverances, or our future hopes? Earth yields her summer fruits: the hay is

housed, the golden grain invites the sickle, and the sun tarrying long to

shine upon a fruitful earth, shortens the interval of shade that we may

lengthen the hours of devout worship. By the love of Jesus, let us be stirred

up to close the day with a psalm of sanctified gladness.

Now these, the singers . . . Were on duty day and night.  1 Chronicles 9:33

 It was so well organized in the temple that the sacred refrain never ceased, for the singers constantly praised the Lord, whose mercy endures forever. As mercy did not cease to rule either by day or by night, so neither did music hush its holy sound. My heart, there is a lesson sweetly taught to you in the ceaseless song of Zion’s temple. You are a constant debtor; therefore see to it that your gratitude, like charity, never fails. God’s praise is constant in heaven, which is to be your final dwelling-place; so learn to practice the eternal hallelujah. Around the earth as the sun scatters its light, its beams awaken grateful believers to tune their morning hymn, so that by the priesthood of the saints perpetual praise is kept up at all hours; they surround our globe in a mantle of thanksgiving and girdle it with a golden belt of song.

The Lord always deserves to be praised for what He is in Himself, for His works of creation and providence, for His goodness toward His creatures, and especially for the transcendent act of redemption and all the marvelous blessings that flow from it. It is always beneficial to praise the Lord; such praise cheers the day and brightens the night; it lightens toil and softens sorrow; and over earthly gladness it sheds a sanctifying radiance that makes it less liable to blind us with its glare. Do we not have something to sing about at this moment? Can we not weave a song out of our present joys or our past deliverances or our future hopes? Earth yields her summer fruits: The hay is baled, the golden grain invites the scythe, and the sun tarries to shine upon a fruitful earth and shorten the interval of shade, that we may extend the hours of devoted worship. By the love of Jesus, let us be stirred up to close the day with a psalm of sanctified gladness.

Family Reading Plan Jeremiah 27  Mark 13