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- Written by: Don Goulding
Tell the people of Zion, ‘Look, your king is coming to you, unassuming and seated on a donkey, and on a colt, the foal of a donkey.’ (Matthew 21:5)
Let everyone see your gentleness. The Lord is near! (Philippians 4:5)
The live green movement attempts to bring health to our planet. It’s an environmentally gentle approach to life that encourages a minimal ecological footprint. That’s a fancy way of saying we limit our use of natural resources. Advertisers apply the slogans of live green and sustainability to everything from light bulbs to automobiles.
There is a way to live green spiritually. The Bible enjoins us to adopt a gentle spirit, which is to say, a minimal worldly footprint. Our presence on earth should be a weightless benefit to everything we touch.
Do I have a gentle spirit with my family, my critics, my finances—what about with my driving? Am I quick to give and slow to take? I am called to leave a verdant path of encouragement, not a thorny trail of disapproval.
To live green doesn’t mean I become a spineless patsy. There was no gentler person than Jesus Christ, and yet no one has ever had his moxie. Gentleness simply means I sacrifice my temporal existence for the good of others—not for what they may want but for their eternal good.
A wisteria vine sends out a delicate tendril that can later bend steel pipes and break cement foundations. Just so, my life should be tender and fragrant, but driven by life bending conviction. That’s living green.
Prayer: Father, may my footprint be small on earth and large in your kingdom.
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- Written by: Don Goulding
Father, I want those you have given me to be with me where I am, so that they can see my glory that you gave me because you loved me before the creation of the world. (John 17:24)
For years I heard Venice, Italy was the most romantic city in the world. Friends spewed about the gondolas, cathedrals, and blah, blah, blah. Their descriptions and pictures bored me.
Then one year we visited the famous “City of Light” for ourselves. Only when I floated on the canals, heard orchestral music bounce from the walls of an ancient church, and watched fireworks drape golden sparks over St. Mark’s Square did I realize how understated the descriptions had been.
Like my difficulty with Venice, I have a tough time gaining a full appreciation for all that Jesus is. The reason I live with doubt, fear, and conflict is because I underestimate the scope of his majesty. If I truly grasped his sufficiency to absolve sin, I wouldn’t worry about how others judge me. If I would fully see the glory God gave to Jesus after his trials, I would rest in what God is doing through my own trials.
Jesus existed before there was time. He currently holds everything together. He is Immanuel (God with us), and I Am (the name God gave himself), and Jesus (which means God saves). He is the Righteous Judge all men are destined to face, the Word of God, and the light in paradise.
But these encyclopedic facts on their own don’t make their way into my core. Only when I clutch his hand over the stony paths of life do I begin to grasp the breadth of Jesus. Faith is best lived experientially, not studied in others. And so it is in the press of today’s desperation that the facts about Jesus’s majesty will solidify in my heart.
Prayer: All glorious Jesus, may I know you firsthand in my present challenges.
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- Written by: Don Goulding
His left arm is under my head, and his right arm embraces me. (Song of Solomon 2:6) (NIV)
We were three man-friends trapped in California’s Sierra Nevada Mountains. A rogue bear had cleaned out our treed food cache. The shortest way out was to cram two days of hiking into one day and climb over a fourteen thousand foot peak. Survival mode kicked in and we plied the stream for fish and combed the meadow for edible roots.
Drawing on our wilderness savvy to overcome a bit of peril bonded us as friends. It was a grand adventure. We emerged from the woods a few pounds lighter, but flush with male victory grunts.
I might act the competent survivalist, but spiritually I’m a fledgling chick fallen from the nest. Demons swoop about my head while my own flesh threatens to dash my faith on the rocks of sin. I’m defenseless and weak willed, exposed and shaking. So I don’t need a distant God who will only be near when I get to heaven. I need one who can hold me through this howling dark night.
Jesus pulls me into his embrace and tells me to stay low. If I rise to my feet of self-effort, he can’t guarantee protection. His left hand cushions my skull against the hardness of life. His right arm—the symbol of his might and power—is around my waist. It protects me from attacks, and keeps me from bolting.
This is the Savior I need. I’ll never survive the horror of the world if I squirm away. The manly thing to do is to curl under his mighty embrace until the storms are over.
Prayer: Lover of my soul, don’t let go of me.