Morning   “Ye that love the Lord hate evil.”   Psalm 97:10

Thou hast good reason to “hate evil,” for only consider what harm it has already

wrought thee. Oh, what a world of mischief sin has brought into thy heart! Sin

blinded thee so that thou couldst not see the beauty of the Saviour; it made

thee deaf so that thou couldst not hear the Redeemer’s tender invitations. Sin

turned thy feet into the way of death, and poured poison into the very fountain

of thy being; it tainted thy heart, and made it “deceitful above all things, and

desperately wicked.” Oh, what a creature thou wast when evil had done its utmost

with thee, before divine grace interposed! Thou wast an heir of wrath even as

others; thou didst “run with the multitude to do evil.” Such

were all of us; but Paul reminds us, “but ye are washed, but ye are sanctified,

but ye are justified in the name of the Lord Jesus, and by the Spirit of our

God.” We have good reason, indeed, for hating evil when we look back and trace

its deadly workings. Such mischief did evil do us, that our souls would have

been lost had not omnipotent love interfered to redeem us. Even now it is an

active enemy, ever watching to do us hurt, and to drag us to perdition.

Therefore “hate evil,” O Christians, unless you desire trouble. If you would

strew your path with thorns, and plant nettles in your death-pillow, then

neglect to “hate evil:” but if you would live a happy life, and die a peaceful

death,  then walk in all the ways of holiness, hating evil, even unto the end. If you

truly love your Saviour, and would honour him, then “hate evil.” We know of no

cure for the love of evil in a Christian like abundant intercourse with the Lord

Jesus. Dwell much with him, and it is impossible for you to be at peace with

sin.

“Order my footsteps by thy Word,

And make my heart sincere;

Let sin have no dominion, Lord,

But keep my conscience clear.”

Evening   “Be zealous.”   Revelation 3:19

If you would see souls converted, if you would hear the cry that “the kingdoms

of this world have become the kingdoms of our Lord;” if you would place crowns

upon the head of the Saviour, and his throne lifted high, then be filled with

zeal. For, under God, the way of the world’s conversion must be by the zeal of

the church. Every grace shall do exploits, but this shall be first; prudence,

knowledge, patience, and courage will follow in their places, but zeal must lead

the van. It is not the extent of your knowledge, though that is useful; it is

not the extent of your talent, though that is not to be despised; it is your

zeal that shall do great exploits. This zeal is the fruit of the Holy

Spirit: it draws its vital force from the continued operations of the Holy

Ghost in the soul. If our inner life dwindles, if our heart beats slowly before

God, we shall not know zeal; but if all be strong and vigorous within, then we

cannot but feel a loving anxiety to see the kingdom of Christ come, and his will

done on earth, even as it is in heaven. A deep sense of gratitude will nourish

Christian zeal. Looking to the hole of the pit whence we were digged, we find

abundant reason why we should spend and be spent for God. And zeal is also

stimulated by the thought of the eternal future. It looks with tearful eyes down

to the flames of hell, and it cannot slumber: it looks up with anxious

gaze to the glories of heaven, and it cannot but bestir itself. It feels that

time is short compared with the work to be done, and therefore it devotes all

that it has to the cause of its Lord. And it is ever strengthened by the

remembrance of Christ’s example. He was clothed with zeal as with a cloak. How

swift the chariot-wheels of duty went with him! He knew no loitering by the way.

Let us prove that we are his disciples by manifesting the same spirit of zeal.

. . . Are they Israelites? So am I.  2 Corinthians 11:22

Image BlockedWe have here a personal claim, and one that needs proof. The apostle knew that his claim was indisputable, but there are many people who have no right to the title yet still claim to belong to the Israel of God. If we are confidently declaring, “I am also an Israelite,” let us only say it after we have searched our hearts as in the presence of God. But if we can give proof that we are following Jesus, if we can say from the heart, “I trust Him wholly, trust Him only, trust Him simply, trust Him now, and trust Him ever,” then the position that the saints of God hold also belongs to us.

All their enjoyments are our possessions; we may be the very least in Israel, “least of all saints,” but since the mercies of God belong to the saints as saints, and not as advanced saints or well-taught saints, we may put in our plea and say, “Are they Israelites? So am I. The promises are mine, grace is mine, and glory will be mine.” The claim, rightfully made, is one that will yield untold comfort. When God’s people are rejoicing that they are His, what a happiness to be able to say, “So am I!”

When they speak of being pardoned and justified and accepted in the Beloved, how joyful to respond, “Through the grace of God, so am I.” But this claim not only has its enjoyments and privileges, but also its conditions and duties. We must share with God’s people in cloud as well as in sunshine. When we hear them spoken of with contempt and ridicule for being Christians, we must come boldly forward and say, “So am I.” When we see them working for Christ, giving their time, their talent, their whole heart to Jesus, we must be able to say, “So do I.” Let us then prove our gratitude by our devotion and live as those who, having claimed a privilege, are willing to take the responsibility connected with it.

2 Timothy 4:6-8

Paul was a man who lived life to the full. His goals were to know Christ, abide in His power, fellowship in His suffering, and preach the gospel (Phil. 3:10; 1 Cor. 1:17). In doing so, he aligned his aspirations with the Lord’s, diligently worked to fulfill his calling, and persevered through opposition, persecution, and suffering. He could face the end of his life with confidence since he’d “fought the good fight,” “finished the course,” and “kept the faith” (2 Tim. 4:7).

We’d all like to be able to say the same at the end of our lives, but that means we have to follow Paul’s example. How are you doing at setting goals for your life? Have you thought beyond the immediate and set some long-term objectives? Our culture is so fast-paced that few of us take the time to actually consider where we’re going. But you don’t want to finish your life and find out you were on a course other than God’s, fighting the wrong fight, and struggling to keep the faith.

Why not set aside some time this week to get alone with the Lord. Then ask His help in setting goals that will take you where He wants you to go. Consider every area of your life–personal, relational, financial, and vocational–but make spiritual goals your primary emphasis. Then write them down.

If you keep doing what you’re doing, you’ll keep getting what you’re getting. Maybe it’s time to get out of your rut and find a new path. God will help you change direction and accomplish new goals that align with His will. Don’t settle for the mediocrity of an unplanned life. Start living intentionally.

The question was asked and the room fell silent: “Does anyone ever feel they’ve lived up to their potential?” It was a loaded question, not only because it was asked in a group of persons struggling with vocation, but also because the word “potential” is elusive in its definition. What does “potential” mean in a world that views achievement as athletic prowess, celebrity status, or economic success? If the exceptional is the guide for the achievement of one’s potential, how will those of us who live somewhere between the average and the ordinary ever feel we’ve arrived?

The inherent routine and mundane tasks that fill our days contribute to the struggle to understand our “potential.” How can one possibly feel substantial when one’s day-in, day-out existence is filled with the tedium of housework, paying bills, pulling weeds, and running endless errands? These tasks are not celebrated, or noticed. They are the daily details that make up our routine. Indeed for artists and bus drivers, homemakers and neurosurgeons, astronauts and cashiers our days are filled with repetitive motion, even if we do have moments of great challenge or extraordinary success. It is no wonder then, with our societal standards and our routine-filled lives that we wonder about our potential. Indeed, does much of what we do even matter when it feels so ordinary? Does the “ordinary” contribute to our sense of meeting our potential, or does its predominance in our lives simply serve as a perpetual reminder of a failure to thrive?

The “simple lifestyle” movement attempts to locate potential in exactly the opposite ways of our society. In this movement, simplicity unlocks the key to potential, and not acquisition, or achievement, or recognition. Clearing out what clutters and complicates makes room for finding potential in what is most basic and routine. In the Christian tradition, as well, there are many who believe that one’s potential and one’s purpose would only be found in the radical call of simplicity. Some of the earliest Christians, who fled the luxury and security of Rome once Constantine made Christianity the official religion of the Empire, believed that one’s “holiness” potential could only be achieved within the radical austerity of a monastic cell. There in the cloistered walls where each and every day presented simple routine, repetitive tasks, and the regular rhythm of prayer and worship, perseverance with the ordinary became the path to one’s potential.

Brother Lawrence is one of the most well known of this type of monastic. In The Practice of Prayer, Margaret Guenther writes that “Brother Lawrence, our patron of housekeeping, was a hero of the ordinary.”(1) As one who found his potential in cultivating a profound awareness of God in the ordinary tasks of his day, Brother Lawrence was an ordinary hero. While he attended chapel with the other monks, his true sanctuary was amongst the pots and pans of the monastery kitchen. What we may not realize in the popularized retelling of his story is that he actually began by hating his ordinary work. His abbot wrote about him:

“The same thing was true of his work in the kitchen, for which he had a naturally strong aversion; having accustomed himself to doing everything there for the love of God, and asking His grace to do his work, he found he had become quite proficient in the fifteen years he had worked in the kitchen.”(2)

Quite proficient in the kitchen. Could it be that Brother Lawrence was able to fulfill his potential by washing dishes? Despite his strong aversion, he found purpose in the very midst of the most mundane and ordinary tasks of life. He fulfilled his potential by focusing on faithfulness. This is not faithfulness that triumphs over the desire to fulfill one’s potential. Indeed, as Guenther describes it “faithfulness rarely feels heroic; it feels much more like showing up and hanging in. It is a matter of going to our cell, whatever form that might take, and letting it teach us what it will.”(3) Availing himself to consistent faithfulness yielded the blessing of both proficiency and presence—the presence of God—right there in midst of the monotony of dirty pots and pans.

Fulfilling one’s potential has little to do with greatness. And yet, the heroism of the ordinary does not preempt “greatness” that our world confers to those who have reached their potential with staggering and dramatic achievement; for even those who achieve greatness have faced the drama of routine and the tidal wave of tedium. But to assign the fulfillment of one’s potential solely to great acts and recognition is to miss the blessing that comes from faithful acts of devotion, often done routinely and heroically in the ordinary of our everyday. Perhaps it might be said of us, as it was of Brother Lawrence: “He was more united with God in his ordinary activities.”(4)

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

(1) Margaret Guenther, The Practice of Prayer (Boston: Cowley Press, 1998), 113.
(2) Brother Lawrence of the Resurrection, The Practice of the Presence of God, ed. John J. Delaney (New York: Image, 1977), 41.
(3) Margaret Guenther, The Practice of Prayer (Boston: Cowley Press, 1998), 112.
(4) Brother Lawrence of the Resurrection, The Practice of the Presence of God, ed. John J. Delaney (New York: Image, 1977), 47.

Morning   “Behold, I am vile.”  Job 40:4

One cheering word, poor lost sinner, for thee! You think you must not come to God because you are vile. Now, there is not a saint living on earth but has been made to feel that he is vile. If Job, and Isaiah, and Paul were all obliged to say “I am vile,” oh, poor sinner, wilt thou be ashamed to join in the same confession? If divine grace does not eradicate all sin from the believer, how dost thou hope to do it thyself? and if God loves his people while they are yet vile, dost thou think thy vileness will prevent his loving thee? Believe on Jesus, thou outcast of the world’s society! Jesus calls thee, and such as thou art.

“Not the righteous, not the righteous;

Sinners, Jesus came to call.”

Even now say, “Thou hast died for sinners; I am a sinner, Lord Jesus, sprinkle thy blood on me;” if thou wilt confess thy sin thou shalt find pardon. If, now, with all thy heart, thou wilt say, “I am vile, wash me,” thou shalt be washed now. If the Holy Spirit shall enable thee from thy heart to cry

“Just as I am, without one plea

But that thy blood was shed for me,

And that thou bidd’st me come to thee,

O Lamb of God, I come!”

thou shalt rise from reading this morning’s portion with all thy sins pardoned; and though thou didst wake this morning with every sin that man hath ever committed on thy head, thou shalt rest tonight accepted in the Beloved; though once degraded with the rags of sin, thou shalt be adorned with a robe of righteousness, and appear white as the angels are. For “now,” mark it, “Now is the accepted time.” If thou “believest on him who justifieth the ungodly thou art saved.” Oh! may the Holy Spirit give thee saving faith in him who receives the vilest.

Evening  “Are they Israelites? so am I.”  2 Corinthians 11:22

We have here a personal claim, and one that needs proof. The apostle knew that his claim was indisputable, but there are many persons who have no right to the title who yet claim to belong to the Israel of God. If we are with confidence declaring, “So am I also an Israelite,” let us only say it after having searched our heart as in the presence of God. But if we can give proof that we are following Jesus, if we can from the heart say, “I trust him wholly, trust him only, trust him simply, trust him now, and trust him ever,” then the position which the saints of God hold belongs to us–all their enjoyments are our possessions; we may be the very least in Israel, “less than the least of all  saints,” yet since the mercies of God belong to the saints as saints, and not as advanced saints, or well-taught saints, we may put in our plea, and say, “Are they Israelites? so am I; therefore the promises are mine, grace is mine, glory will be mine.” The claim, rightfully made, is one which will yield untold comfort. When God’s people are rejoicing that they are his, what a happiness if they can say, “So am I !” When they speak of being pardoned, and justified, and accepted in the Beloved, how joyful to respond, “Through the grace of God, so am I.” But this claim not only has its enjoyments and privileges, but also its conditions and duties. We must share with God’s people in cloud as  well as in sunshine. When we hear them spoken of with contempt and ridicule for being Christians, we must come boldly forward and say, “So am I.” When we see them working for Christ, giving their time, their talent, their whole heart to Jesus, we must be able to say, “So do I.” O let us prove our gratitude by our devotion, and live as those who, having claimed a privilege, are willing to take the responsibility connected with it.

. . . Anyone who does not love does not know God.

1 John 4:8

The distinguishing mark of a Christian is his confidence in Christ’s love for him and in the offering of his love to Christ. First, faith sets her seal upon the man by enabling the soul to say with the apostle, “Christ loved me and gave himself for me.”1 Then love gives the countersign and stamps upon the heart gratitude and love to Jesus in return. “We love because he first loved us.”2

In those grand old ages, which are the heroic period of the Christian religion, this double mark was clearly seen in all believers in Jesus; they were men who knew the love of Christ and rested upon it as a man leans upon a staff whose trustiness he has proved. The love that they felt toward the Lord was not a quiet emotion that they hid within themselves in the secret place of their souls and that they only spoke about in private or when they met on the first day of the week and sang hymns in honor of Christ Jesus the crucified; it was a passion with them of such a vehement and all-consuming energy that it was visible in all their actions, evident in their conversation, and seen in their eyes, even in their casual glances. Love for Jesus was a flame that fed upon the core and heart of their being and therefore by its own force burned its way into their demeanor and shone there. Zeal for the glory of King Jesus was the seal and mark of all genuine Christians.

Because of their dependence upon Christ’s love they dared much, and because of their love for Christ they did much, and it is the same now. The children of God are ruled in their inmost powers by love. The love of Christ constrains them; they rejoice that divine love is set upon them, they feel it shed abroad in their hearts by the Holy Spirit, who is given to them, and then by force of gratitude they love the Savior with a pure and fervent heart.

My reader, do you love Him? Before you sleep, give an honest answer to this weighty question!

1Galatians 2:20 21 John 4:19

Philippians 3:7-14

What three goals would you set for your life if you knew that you could achieve them? Would any of them be spiritual in nature? The apostle Paul was one of the most goal-oriented people in the Bible, yet he understood which pursuits were the most important. His chief ambition was to know Christ, His resurrection power, and the fellowship of His suffering (v. 10).

We’d all do well to adopt these goals, but they sound so broad. How do we put them into practice? First, it’s important to comprehend that a goal is a purpose or direction toward which we work. This concept is fairly easy to understand when we’re talking about specific objectives like going to bed earlier or losing ten pounds, but what steps would you need to take in order to achieve spiritual goals like Paul’s?

Success requires choosing steps that are specific, reasonable, and measurable. For example, if you want to know Christ more intimately, you might commit to spending 30 minutes each day praying and reading His Word. After developing your plan and the steps to accomplish it, put your desire into action. If you don’t take the necessary steps, it will simply remain a wish. No one develops intimacy with Christ through good intentions; it takes commitment, diligence, and perseverance.

If you feel as if your faith is lacking vitality, it may be that you’ve become spiritually lazy. No one intends to slip into complacency. But unless you set some specific goals and work to achieve them, you’ll drift through life and miss the greatest accomplishment of all–learning to know Christ intimately.

Hindsight is 20/20.  We know the truth of the expression from experience. “If only I would have taken a different street, I wouldn’t be stuck in traffic.” “If only I would have quit while I was ahead, I wouldn’t be stuck in this situation.” Such thoughts are unending: If I would have paid closer attention, if I would have pushed a little harder, if I would have stopped pushing… if only I knew then what I know now, things would have turned out differently.      

Quite probably in many cases that is true. If we knew beforehand what we know after the fact, things could have very well turned out differently. Yet equally wrapped up somewhere within this “if only” mindset is the thought that things would not only have turned out differently but that they would also have turned out better. Knowing this would take much more than 20/20 vision. Standing on the other side of knowing gives us a different perspective, to be sure. But to assume that because of that perspective we now see perfectly is likely a perilous oversight.

The Israelites often cried out to God in the belief that they were seeing perfectly. The shackles that bound them to Egypt and misery were broken off before their eyes. God moved them from slavery to freedom via the floor of the Red Sea, putting before his people a sign momentous enough to make an impression upon each day ahead of them. Yet walking through the adversities of the desert, they cried out as if never having seen the hand that was leading them. “If only we had died in Egypt! Or in this desert! Why is the LORD bringing us to this land only to let us fall by the sword? Our wives and children will be taken as plunder. Wouldn’t it be better for us to go back to Egypt?” (Numbers 14:2-3).

It seems the view from hindsight can be as misleading as it is insightful. The Israelite’s mistreatment at the hands of the Egyptians was overlooked in their perception of the other side of the Red Sea. Moreover, their deliverance at the hands of God in hindsight was seen as unremarkable and unrelated to their need for God in the present.

The cry of “if only” is all too often a cry of distrust.  The seemingly harmless expression insists that we know best, that we know what is better, that we know what we need. Like the Israelites in their forgetful wailing we are often certain that we not only know what will make our situations better, but what will finally make us happy. We always seem to know just the thing our lives are missing.  “If only we had meat to eat” the Israelites insisted, “we would be satisfied.” But they were not, and we are no more successful. In reality, what we need is often a far cry from what we think we need. For good reason many Christians can look back to a prayer and thank God that it wasn’t answered.

G.K. Chesterton speaks in a poem of the posture we often forget when the cry to change the past or achieve the perfect future emerges from our lips.  He writes,

Thank God the stars are set beyond my power,

If I must travail in a night of wrath,

Thank God my tears will never vex a moth,

Nor any curse of mine cut down a flower.

Instead, the Christian is given the freedom of thankfulness that the one listening to her prayers sits with wisdom far greater than her own. For even Job who cried, “If only I had never come into being, or had been carried straight from the womb to the grave” found in the end that he had spoken out of turn. But we can thank God that God’s thoughts are beyond our own, that God knows the longings we express and the ones we do not know to express. We can thank God for the promise that all things work together for good—our trials, our mistakes, our past, our future.

God is at work even in the moments when we would cry “if only.” And his own “if only’s” are far more sobering. As Christ approached Jerusalem and saw the city, he wept over it and said, “If you, even you, had only known on this day what would bring you peace” (Luke 19:41). Rest assured, God knows your need and so reveals Himself that you might also.

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

Morning   “The Lord shut him in.”    Genesis 7:16

Noah was shut in away from all the world by the hand of divine love. The door of

electing purpose interposes between us and the world which lieth in the wicked

one. We are not of the world even as our Lord Jesus was not of the world. Into

the sin, the gaiety, the pursuits of the multitude we cannot enter; we cannot

play in the streets of Vanity Fair with the children of darkness, for our

heavenly Father has shut us in. Noah was shut in with his God. “Come thou into

the ark,” was the Lord’s invitation, by which he clearly showed that he himself

intended to dwell in the ark with his servant and his family. Thus all the

chosen dwell in God and God in them. Happy people to be enclosed in the

same circle which contains God in the Trinity of his persons, Father, Son, and

Spirit. Let us never be inattentive to that gracious call, “Come, my people,

enter thou into thy chambers, and shut thy doors about thee, and hide thyself as

it were for a little moment until the indignation be overpast.” Noah was so shut

in that no evil could reach him. Floods did but lift him heavenward, and winds

did but waft him on his way. Outside of the ark all was ruin, but inside all was

rest and peace. Without Christ we perish, but in Christ Jesus there is perfect

safety. Noah was so shut in that he could not even desire to come out, and those

who are in Christ Jesus are in him forever. They shall go no

more out forever, for eternal faithfulness has shut them in, and infernal

malice cannot drag them out. The Prince of the house of David shutteth and no

man openeth; and when once in the last days as Master of the house he shall rise

up and shut the door, it will be in vain for mere professors to knock, and cry

Lord, Lord open unto us, for that same door which shuts in the wise virgins will

shut out the foolish forever. Lord, shut me in by thy grace.

Evening   “He that loveth not knoweth not God.”   1 John 4:8

The distinguishing mark of a Christian is his confidence in the love of Christ,

and the yielding of his affections to Christ in return. First, faith sets her

seal upon the man by enabling the soul to say with the apostle, “Christ loved me

and gave himself for me.” Then love gives the countersign, and stamps upon the

heart gratitude and love to Jesus in return. “We love him because he first loved

us.” In those grand old ages, which are the heroic period of the Christian

religion, this double mark was clearly to be seen in all believers in Jesus;

they were men who knew the love of Christ, and rested upon it as a man leaneth

upon a staff whose trustiness he has tried. The love which they felt

towards the Lord was not a quiet emotion which they hid within themselves in

the secret chamber of their souls, and which they only spake of in their private

assemblies when they met on the first day of the week, and sang hymns in honour

of Christ Jesus the crucified, but it was a passion with them of such a vehement

and all-consuming energy, that it was visible in all their actions, spoke in

their common talk, and looked out of their eyes even in their commonest glances.

Love to Jesus was a flame which fed upon the core and heart of their being; and,

therefore, from its own force burned its way into the outer man, and shone

there. Zeal for the glory of King Jesus was the seal and mark of

all genuine Christians. Because of their dependence upon Christ’s love they

dared much, and because of their love to Christ they did much, and it is the

same now. The children of God are ruled in their inmost powers by love–the love

of Christ constraineth them; they rejoice that divine love is set upon them,

they feel it shed abroad in their hearts by the Holy Ghost, which is given unto

them, and then by force of gratitude they love the Saviour with a pure heart,

fervently. My reader, do you love him? Ere you sleep give an honest answer to a

weighty question!

. . . Taken up in glory.   1 Timothy 3:16

We have seen the Lord Jesus in the days of His flesh, humiliated and scorned: “He was despised and rejected by men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief.”1 He whose brightness is as the morning wore the sackcloth of sorrow as His daily dress: Shame was His belt, and reproach was His cloak. Yet now that He has triumphed over all the powers of darkness upon the bloody tree, our faith sees Him returning, robed in the splendor of victory.

How glorious He must have been in the eyes of seraphs, when a cloud received Him out of sight and He ascended to heaven! Now He wears the glory that He had with God before creation, and yet another glory above all—that which He has earned in the fight against sin, death, and hell. As victor He wears the illustrious crown. Listen to the swelling song! It is a new and sweeter song: “Worthy is the Lamb who was slain, for by Your blood You ransomed people for God!” He wears the glory of an Intercessor who can never fail, of a Prince who can never be defeated, of a Conqueror who has defeated every foe, of a Lord who has the allegiance of every subject.

Jesus wears all the glory that heaven can bestow upon Him, all that ten thousand times ten thousand angels can minister to Him. You cannot with the utmost stretch of imagination conceive of His exceeding greatness; yet there will be a further revelation of it when He shall descend from heaven in great power, with all the holy angels—”Then he will sit on his glorious throne.”2 The splendor of that glory seen will ravish the hearts of His people. This isn’t the end, for eternity will sound His praise. “Your throne, O God, is forever and ever!”3 Reader, if you would rejoice in Christ’s glory then, He must be glorious in your sight now. So, is He?

1Isaiah 53:3 2Matthew 25:31 3Psalm 45:6

The family reading plan for June 4, 2012

Isaiah 36 | Revelation 6

Proverbs 16:1-3

Is success a legitimate goal for believers? Is this something God wants for His children? The answers depend upon your definition of success. Many people define it as the achievement of wealth, prominence, or fame. If that’s what you’re seeking, then you are following the world’s definition, not the Lord’s.

In His eyes, true success begins internally–the first step is a relationship with Jesus, whereby you have trusted Him as Savior and are following Him obediently. His goal for you is ongoing growth in Christlike character and spiritual maturity, but that’s not all. He also has some work for you to accomplish here on earth (Eph. 2:10). God planned these tasks specifically for you and designed them with your personality, talents, abilities, and spiritual gifts in mind. You could think of them as your unique calling and responsibility in life, which no one else can fulfill.

Genuine success involves doing what the Lord has called you to do, not just occasionally but continually. It has to do with persistence rather than perfection. When this is your definition of success, you can know that the Lord wants you to succeed–and is committed to helping you become the person He designed you to be and accomplish the goals He’s set for you.

The ultimate evaluation of our success will take place when we stand before God and give account of our lives (Rom. 14:12). Any self-centered earthly achievements will be left behind. But if we’ve lived by His definition of success, our treasure will await us in heaven–along with the words “Well done!”

It is fascinating to see the increasing role of forensic science in solving crimes. DNA can be recovered in anything from a few skin cells to a licked postage stamp. Forensic scientists can establish an association between a suspect and the crime scene with only an eyelash or single strand of hair. It appears we leave traces of our presence where ever we go.

Interestingly enough, your hair not only tells people that you have been there, it also tells your story—or at least provides some noteworthy details to that story. Scientists have discovered that your hair can divulge significant habits and particulars of your lifestyle: what you eat, where you live, if you smoke or drink, if you are of Asian or European decent. And a single hair can keep records for months, if not years, depending on its length.

When my mother first told me as a little girl that God knew the number of hairs on my head I was thoroughly amazed and a little troubled at the thought of it. The number of hairs on my head was something I didn’t know about myself; it was something no one else seemed to know about me either. This meant that someone knew something about me that my mom or my grandma didn’t know. It meant that someone had the capacity—and the aspiration—to know me and all of my details.

Even as I looked at this promise quite literally, it was at once both comforting and troubling. When I brushed my hair and caused several strands to fall out was I making work for God? How often did God have to recount them? And why did God care how many hairs I had anyway? Certainly it was one detail that God could overlook.

Then sometime later I was given the rest of Jesus’s words uttered that day: “Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies? Yet not one of them is forgotten by God. Indeed, the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows” (Luke 12:6-7). Strand of hair or simple sparrow, worry, fear, or dream, God does not overlook even one.

That God knows the number of hairs on our heads is still a thought at which we do well to wonder.  Wrapped up tightly within such knowledge is the great and fearful truth about who we are praying to when our eyes grow heavy with sleep, who walks beside us through shadowy valleys and streams of still waters, who hears our groaning when we don’t know what we mean. God knows us more specifically and more effectively than we know ourselves—a thought that reminds us that God is Father, a detail that holds both immeasurable love and great consequence. God knows not only the stories told in each strand of your hair but every detail of who you are: the desires of your heart, the worries you carry, the questions you don’t know how to ask. In this perfect love our fears are cast aside and we are given not only reason to trust, but a will to obey.

According to the Natural History Museum of London, the average person has up to 150,000 hairs on his or her head.  The one who knows exactly where you stand in that average, who knit you together in your mother’s womb and knows each word on your tongue before it is formed, is a God of remembrance. Like the psalmist at this thought we wonder. “O Lord, what are human beings that you regard them, or mortals that you think of them? They are like a breath; their days are like a passing shadow” (144:3-4). In the echoing of that question across time the promise of Christ is also heard: “Everyone who acknowledges me before others, the Son of Man also will acknowledge before the angels of God” (Luke 12:8). Not even one of them will be forgotten.  

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

Morning    “For the flesh lusteth against the Spirit, and the Spirit against the flesh.”

Galatians 5:17

In every believer’s heart there is a constant struggle between the old nature

and the new. The old nature is very active, and loses no opportunity of plying

all the weapons of its deadly armoury against newborn grace; while on the other

hand, the new nature is ever on the watch to resist and destroy its enemy. Grace

within us will employ prayer, and faith, and hope, and love, to cast out the

evil; it takes unto it the “whole armour of God,” and wrestles earnestly. These

two opposing natures will never cease to struggle so long as we are in this

world. The battle of “Christian” with “Apollyon” lasted three hours, but the

battle of Christian with himself lasted all the way from the Wicket

Gate to the river Jordan. The enemy is so securely entrenched within us that he

can never be driven out while we are in this body: but although we are closely

beset, and often in sore conflict, we have an Almighty helper, even Jesus, the

Captain of our salvation, who is ever with us, and who assures us that we shall

eventually come off more than conquerors through Him. With such assistance the

new-born nature is more than a match for its foes. Are you fighting with the

adversary today? Are Satan, the world, and the flesh, all against you? Be not

discouraged nor dismayed. Fight on! For God Himself is with you; Jehovah Nissi

is your banner, and Jehovah Rophi is the healer of your wounds.

Fear not, you shall overcome, for who can defeat Omnipotence? Fight on,

“looking unto Jesus;” and though long and stern be the conflict, sweet will be

the victory, and glorious the promised reward. “From strength to strength go on;

Wrestle, and fight, and pray, Tread all the powers of darkness down, And win the

well-fought day.”

Evening  “Good Master.”  Matthew 19:16

If the young man in the gospel used this title in speaking to our Lord, how much

more fitly may I thus address him! He is indeed my Master in both senses, a

ruling Master and a teaching Master. I delight to run upon his errands, and to

sit at his feet. I am both his servant and his disciple, and count it my highest

honour to own the double character. If he should ask me why I call him “good,” I

should have a ready answer. It is true that “there is none good but one, that

is, God,” but then he is God, and all the goodness of Deity shines forth in him.

In my experience, I have found him good, so good, indeed, that all the good I

have has come to me through him. He was good to me when I was

dead in sin, for he raised me by his Spirit’s power; he has been good to me in

all my needs, trials, struggles, and sorrows. Never could there be a better

Master, for his service is freedom, his rule is love: I wish I were one

thousandth part as good a servant. When he teaches me as my Rabbi, he is

unspeakably good, his doctrine is divine, his manner is condescending, his

spirit is gentleness itself. No error mingles with his instruction–pure is the

golden truth which he brings forth, and all his teachings lead to goodness,

sanctifying as well as edifying the disciple. Angels find him a good Master and

delight to pay their homage at his footstool. The ancient saints proved him to

be a  good Master, and each of them rejoiced to sing, “I am thy servant, O Lord!” My

own humble testimony must certainly be to the same effect. I will bear this

witness before my friends and neighbours, for possibly they may be led by my

testimony to seek my Lord Jesus as their Master. O that they would do so! They

would never repent so wise a deed. If they would but take his easy yoke, they

would find themselves in so royal a service that they would enlist in it

forever.

For the Lord . . . Makes her wilderness like Eden.   Isaiah 51:3

In my mind’s eye I see a howling wilderness, a great and terrible desert, like the Sahara. I perceive nothing in it to relieve the eye; all around I am wearied with a vision of hot and arid sand, on which are ten thousand bleaching skeletons of wretched men who have expired in anguish, having lost their way in the pitiless waste. What an appalling sight! How horrible! A sea of sand without boundary and without an oasis, a cheerless graveyard for a forlorn race.

But look and wonder! All of a sudden, springing from the scorching sand I see a well-known plant; and as it grows it buds, the bud expands—it is a rose, and at its side a lily bows its modest head—and, miracle of miracles, as the fragrance of those flowers is diffused, the wilderness is transformed into a fruitful field, and all around it blossoms abundantly like the glory of Lebanon, the excellency of Carmel and Sharon. Do not call it Sahara; call it Paradise. Do not refer to it any longer as the valley of death, for where the skeletons lay bleaching in the sun, a resurrection is proclaimed, and up spring the dead, a mighty army, full of life immortal. Jesus is that well-known plant, and His presence makes everything new.

The wonder is no less in each individual’s salvation. I can see you, dear reader, cast out, an infant, unclothed, unwashed, defiled with your own blood, and left to be food for beasts of prey.

But look, a jewel has been thrown into your bosom by a divine hand, and for its sake you have been pitied and guarded by divine providence; you are washed and cleansed from your defilement; you are adopted into heaven’s family; the fair seal of love is upon your forehead, and the ring of faithfulness is on your hand—you are now a prince to God, though once an orphan and a castaway. Cherish then the matchless power and grace that changes deserts into gardens and makes the barren heart sing for joy.

The family reading plan for June 1, 2012

Isaiah 33 | Revelation 3

Proverbs 27:21

How do you respond when someone compliments you? Some people absolutely love receiving praise because it lifts their spirits and makes them feel valuable. Others are uncomfortable with it. They look down at their feet or offer reasons why they really don’t deserve such praise.

For Christians, there’s another dilemma. We’re called to be humble, so what are we to do when others say good things about us? Because pride is always waiting to raise its ugly head, we need to be careful not to let praise puff us up. Some believers think that accepting a compliment is a sign of pride, so they make a big show of giving all the glory to God. That’s fine, if it’s really what’s in their hearts, but too often it becomes a rote “Christian” response that’s geared to impressing others.

My advice is simply to say, “Thank you very much.” Then whisper a prayer in your heart to the Lord, thanking Him for the blessing, recognizing that anything worthy of praise ultimately comes from Him. If you felt encouraged, let the person know how the comment blessed you. If you receive praise for an achievement that was really a group effort, be sure to redirect the compliment to all those who were involved. A blessing is always more enjoyable when it’s shared.

Our character is tested by the praise that comes to us. Every compliment that bounces into our ears should quickly rebound up to the Father. If we hold onto it, the poison of pride will begin to infect our hearts. But if we pass the praise to God, humility takes up residence in our souls.

A familiar fable tells of the hunter who lost his life to the leopard he himself had saved as a pet for his children when the leopard was just a cub. The moral of the story can be deduced easily from the title, Little Leopards Become Big Leopards; or else, sin is easier to deal with before it becomes a habitual practice that eventually defines our lives.(1) Though the story as it stands is a beautiful illustration of a profound truth, there is a deeper lesson regarding the nature of sin that is easily concealed by this line of thinking and which, I believe, lies at the very essence of the Christian call to Christ-likeness. The problem is that the parallel between little harmless leopard cubs and little harmless sins can be dangerously deceptive.

Whereas leopard cubs are indeed harmless, there is no stage of development at which sin can be said to be harmless, for individual acts of sin are merely the symptoms of the true condition of our hearts. It is not accidental that the call to Christian growth in the Scriptures repeatedly zeros-in on such seemingly benign “human shortcomings” as bitterness, rage, anger, harsh words, slander, and malicious behavior (Ephesians 4:31). In his watershed address, The Sermon on the Mount, Jesus placed a great deal of emphasis on lust, anger, and contempt—behaviors and attitudes that would probably not rank high on our lists of problems in need of urgent resolution. Armed with firm and sometimes unconscious categories of serious versus tolerable sins, we gloss over lists of vices in the Scriptures because they seem to be of little consequence to life as we experience it.

But when we fail to grasp the subtleties of sin, we run the risk of rendering much of biblical wisdom irrelevant to our daily life and practice. While we appreciate the uniqueness and necessity of the sacrificial death of Jesus on our behalf, his specific teachings can at times appear to be farfetched and the emphasis misplaced. Does it not seem incredible that the God who made this world would visit it in its brokenness, dwell among us for over thirty years, and then leave behind the command that we must be nice to each other? Can the problems of the world really be solved by having people “turn the other cheek” and “get rid of anger and malice”? To quote a close friend, “Hello!”

Unfortunately, those “little” sins are not only the mere symptoms of a much bigger problem; they are also effective means of alienating us from God and other human beings.  How many careers have been ruined only because of jealousy? How many people have been deprived of genuine help as a result of the seemingly side-comment of someone who secretly despised them? How many relationships have been destroyed by bitterness? How many churches have split up because of selfish ambitions couched in pietistic terms? How much evil has resulted from misinformation, a little coloring around the edges of truth? And have you noticed how much we can control other people just through our body language? From the political arena to the basic family unit, the worst enemy of human harmony is not spectacular wickedness but those seemingly harmless petty sins routinely assumed to be part of what it means to be human.

According to a NASA scientist, a two-degree miscalculation when launching a spacecraft to the moon would send the spacecraft 11,121 miles away from the moon: all one has to do is take time and distance into account.(2) How perceptive then was George MacDonald when he uttered these chilling words, “A man may sink by such slow degrees that, long after he is a devil, he may go on being a good churchman or a good dissenter, and thinking himself a good Christian”!(3) Similarly, C.S. Lewis warned that cards are a welcome substitute for murder if the former will set the believer on a path away from God. “Indeed,” he wrote, “the safest road to Hell is the gradual one—the gentle slope, soft underfoot, without sudden turnings, without milestones, without signposts.”(4)

Now the decisive path out of this quandary is not just a greater resolve to be obedient to God. Such a response is usually motivated by guilt, and the duration of our effort will be directly proportional to the amount of guilt we feel: we will be right back where we started from when the guilt is no longer as strong. The appropriate response must begin with a greater appreciation of the holiness of God and a clear vision of life in God. It is only along the path of Christ-likeness that the true nature of sin is revealed and its appeal blunted. Yes, brazen sinfulness is appallingly evil and destructive, but it only makes a louder growl in a forest populated by stealthier, deadly hunters masquerading as little leopards. It is no idle, perfunctory pastime to pray with King David:

Search me, O God, and know my heart;
Test me and know my thoughts.
Point out anything in me that offends you,
And lead me along the path of everlasting life (Psalm 139:23-24).

 J.M. Njoroge is a member of the speaking team at Ravi Zacharias International Ministries in Atlanta, Georgia.

(1) For example, Paul White’s, Little Leopards Become Big Leopards, published by African Christian Press.
(2) John Trent, Heartshift: The Two Degree Difference That Will Change Your Heart, Your Home, and Your Health (Nashville: Broadman and Holman Publishers, 2004), 17.
(3) George MacDonald, in George MacDonald: An Anthology by C. S. Lewis (New York: Dolphin Books, 1962), 118.
(4) C.S. Lewis, The Screwtape Letters, in A C.S. Lewis Treasury: Three Classics in One Volume (New York: Harcourt & Company, 1988), 250.

Morning   “The evening and the morning were the first day.”    Genesis 1:5

Was it so even in the beginning? Did light and darkness divide the realm of time

in the first day? Then little wonder is it if I have also changes in my

circumstances from the sunshine of prosperity to the midnight of adversity. It

will not always be the blaze of noon even in my soul concerns, I must expect at

seasons to mourn the absence of my former joys, and seek my Beloved in the

night. Nor am I alone in this, for all the Lord’s beloved ones have had to sing

the mingled song of judgment and of mercy, of trial and deliverance, of mourning

and of delight. It is one of the arrangements of Divine providence that day and

night shall not cease either in the spiritual or natural creation till

we reach the land of which it is written, “there is no night there.” What our

heavenly Father ordains is wise and good.

What, then, my soul, is it best for thee to do? Learn first to be content with

this divine order, and be willing, with Job, to receive evil from the hand of

the Lord as well as good. Study next, to make the outgoings of the morning and

the evening to rejoice. Praise the Lord for the sun of joy when it rises, and

for the gloom of evening as it falls. There is beauty both in sunrise and

sunset; sing of it, and glorify the Lord. Like the nightingale, pour forth thy

notes at all hours. Believe that the night is as useful as the day. The dews of

grace fall heavily in the night of sorrow. The stars of promise shine forth

gloriously amid the darkness of grief. Continue thy service under all

changes. If in the day thy watchword be labour, at night exchange it for watch.

Every hour has its duty, do thou continue in thy calling as the Lord’s servant

until he shall suddenly appear in his glory. My soul, thine evening of old age

and death is drawing near; dread it not, for it is part of the day; and the Lord

has said, “I will cover him all the day long.”

Evening   “He will make her wilderness like Eden.”   Isaiah 51:3

Methinks, I see in vision a howling wilderness, a great and terrible desert,

like to the Sahara. I perceive nothing in it to relieve the eye, all around I am

wearied with a vision of hot and arid sand, strewn with ten thousand bleaching

skeletons of wretched men who have expired in anguish, having lost their way in

the pitiless waste. What an appalling sight! How horrible! a sea of sand without

a bound, and without an oasis, a cheerless graveyard for a race forlorn! But

behold and wonder! Upon a sudden, upspringing from the scorching sand I see a

plant of renown; and as it grows it buds, the bud expands–it is a rose, and at

its side a lily bows its modest head; and, miracle of miracles! as

the fragrance of those flowers is diffused the wilderness is transformed into a

fruitful field, and all around it blossoms exceedingly, the glory of Lebanon is

given unto it, the excellency of Carmel and Sharon. Call it not Sahara, call it

Paradise. Speak not of it any longer as the valley of deathshade, for where the

skeletons lay bleaching in the sun, behold a resurrection is proclaimed, and up

spring the dead, a mighty army, full of life immortal. Jesus is that plant of

renown, and his presence makes all things new. Nor is the wonder less in each

individual’s salvation. Yonder I behold you, dear reader, cast out, an infant,

unswathed, unwashed, defiled with your own blood, left to be

food for beasts of prey. But lo, a jewel has been thrown into your bosom by a

divine hand, and for its sake you have been pitied and tended by divine

providence, you are washed and cleansed from your defilement, you are adopted

into heaven’s family, the fair seal of love is upon your forehead, and the ring

of faithfulness is on your hand–you are now a prince unto God, though once an

orphan, cast away. O prize exceedingly the matchless power and grace which

changes deserts into gardens, and makes the barren heart to sing for joy.

. . . Who heals all your diseases.   Psalms 103:3

Humbling as this statement is, yet the fact is certain that we are all more or less suffering under the disease of sin. What a comfort to know that we have a great Physician who is both able and willing to heal us! Let us think of Him for a moment tonight.

His cures are very speedy—there is life for a look at Him; His cures are radical—He strikes at the center of the disease; and so His cures are sure and certain. He never fails, and the disease never returns. There is no relapse where Christ heals, no fear that His patients should be merely patched up for a season. He makes new men of them: He also gives them a new heart and puts a right spirit within them.

He is well skilled in all diseases. Physicians generally have some specialty. Although they may know a little about almost all our pains and ills, there is usually one disease that they have studied more than others; but Jesus Christ is thoroughly acquainted with the whole of human nature. He is as much at home with one sinner as with another, and He never yet met an unusual case that was difficult for Him. He has had extraordinary complications of strange diseases to deal with, but He has known exactly with one glance of His eye how to treat the patient. He is the only universal doctor; and the medicine He gives is the only true panacea, healing in every instance.

Whatever our spiritual malady may be, we should apply at once to this Divine Physician. There is no brokenness of heart that Jesus cannot bind up. “The blood of Jesus his Son cleanses us from all sin.”1 We have only to think of the myriads who have been delivered from all sorts of diseases through the power and virtue of His touch, and we will joyfully put ourselves in His hands. We trust Him, and sin dies; we love Him, and grace lives; we wait for Him, and grace is strengthened; we see Him as he is, and grace is perfected forever.

11 John 1:7

The family reading plan for May 31, 2012

Isaiah 32 | Revelation 2

Proverbs 15:31-33

No one likes criticism, but encountering some is inevitable, so we need to learn how to respond in a godly way. Although you might be tempted to become defensive or angry, remain calm and listen. The words may hurt, but great benefits come to those who carefully consider what is said.

If we refuse to accept reproof, we’ll limit our potential for Christlike character development and spiritual growth. Some of life’s best lessons come through difficult experiences. If God allowed the situation, you can be sure that He wants to use it in transforming you into His Son’s image. Whether the criticism is valid or not, whether it’s delivered with kindness or harshness, your goal should always be to respond in a way that glorifies the Lord. Remember that you are responsible only for how you handle yourself, not for how the other person is acting.

When a criticism comes your way, be quiet and listen until the other person has finished. Make direct eye contact to show attentiveness and respect. When your critic finishes, thank him for bringing his concerns to your attention, and tell him that you will consider what he’s said. Ask the Lord if the accusation is valid. Let Him search your heart and either affirm your innocence or convict you.

Every rebuke is an opportunity from God. It’s a chance to let your Christian character shine by showing love to your critic. If he is angrily attacking you, your respect and kindness become a powerful testimony. Criticism is also an occasion to humble yourself and accept the Lord’s correction.

With the occasion of U.S. Memorial Day in my mind, I was thinking about my grandfather. For years he marched in our small hometown parade, proudly representing the United States Air Force. I have not made it home for the parade in the past few years, but in my mind are countless parades past. I recall the serious look on his face as he carried himself and the uniform on his back with stately regard. When I was among the cheering crowd I loved to watch his official countenance momentarily dissolve as the veterans marched past our house. For those of us waving from the front porch my grandfather always reserved a warm smile and a distinguished nod.

But one thing that would remain meticulously unaffected—whether grinning at grandchildren or honoring the flag with his attention—was his careful propensity to march in step. Carrying the weighted memories of all that our nation attempts to pause and remember on Memorial Day, a veteran could perhaps do nothing less.

But when the roles were reversed, and my sister and I were marching in the junior high band while my grandfather was looking on, we were the slouching targets of his disgust. “Did you realize that no one in your marching band was actually marching? Not one of you was in step.” While the etiquette of carrying oneself with proper time and rhythm may have been lost on teenagers, to my grandfather, marching in step was as necessary as remembering to wear shoes.

To this day, I cannot watch a parade without duly noticing if its participants are in step with the drummer. And I realize now that to march in step one must first want to march in step. It requires a willingness to hear the cadence and align oneself with it accordingly. Subsequently, our unwillingness to march in step said something about our band, our commitment and unity, our respect for what we were doing, and our willingness to follow the authority of the drummer. And it was true; while we prided ourselves on performing in concert, we did not see ourselves as a marching band, and it showed in our walk. Moreover, the attitudes with which we carried ourselves ultimately affected our sound.

Christianity uses a similar imagery where it speaks of keeping “in step” with the Spirit as it relates to fruit and authority. “The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control… Those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the sinful nature with its passions and desires.  Since we live by the Spirit, let us keep in step with the Spirit” (Galatians 5:24-25). The apostle Paul wants followers of Christ to recognize that the fruit we produce as his followers is directly related to the cadence we pursue. If our desire is to march to our own beat and direct our own way, we are likely to be out of step with Christ and out of touch with the Spirit.

There are so many ways to walk through life. There are so many drummers to choose as guiding authorities of life’s parade. The question of cadence is related to every aspect of life; from the way we carry ourselves to the tune we produce as we go along. In the earnest prayer of Psalm 119, the psalmist recognizes both his heartfelt need for a “drummer” and a desire to walk in his better way. “Direct my footsteps according to your word; let no sin rule over me.” Like marchers who align themselves with one calling out the better cadence, the Christian pilgrim aligns herself with the enduring voice of God and the victorious life of Christ. She is being led further into the house of heaven by the very one who is preparing her room.

Since it is in Christ’s steps the Christian follows, by the Spirit that he lives, and by God’s voice that he is directed, his steps are aligned by the Spirit accordingly, walking forward in faith, treading where the saints have trod. No doubt, like my grandfather, the heavens rejoice at the sight of the great cloud of witnesses, who, in following hard after Christ by the Spirit who enables them, find themselves marching in step.

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