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- Written by: Don Goulding
In repentance and rest is your salvation, in quietness and trust is your strength… (Isaiah 30:15) (NIV)
The ball scampered from the tee, and tripped over itself to hide in the bushes.
My golf expert grandma calmly set out another ball. “Feet apart, knees bent, focus on the back of the ball.”
I lined up for another try. “Thwack.” Now that sounded right, it felt right.
“You sure hit far.” Granny placated as she squinted after my ball arching onto the wrong fairway.
I’d found the sweet spot on the ball.
There’s a sweet spot in Christian living, and I know well what it is to swing hard, and miss it. All too many times I’ve landed in the bushes of confusion, or the sand trap of sin. There’s no joy in those places. Ah, but when it all comes together, there’s an effortless connection where life in Christ fairly soars.
Right behind Jesus—that’s the sweet spot—after I’ve returned to hide in his grace. I come out of the wind and rest in back of his strength. I quit relying on my own savvy to get me through, and breathe in his goodness, like warm sandalwood.
Resting in Jesus is not the absence of activity. Abiding in him requires the most focused discipline in life. But when I do that, the result is the sweet spot, my salvation and strength—a relaxed life lived on his terms. It feels so right, my day soars.
Prayer: Mighty Jesus, help me hide in your sweet spot this whole day.
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- Written by: Don Goulding
Take my advice and buy gold from me refined by fire so you can become rich! (Revelation 3:18)
We were boys. One of our better campfires crackled and glowed its warmth through jackets and jeans—down to the bones. Then it began. A twig was strategically tossed where orange-red waves of translucent heat jitterbugged over the coals. There was an anticipatory moment when the sacrificial stick seemed unharmed. Yellow flares hissed about its skin. Then the helpless victim writhed until it became one with the embers.
“Cool,” we said in unison.
It was an experiment that bore repeating. Hence, the selection of our objects of peril escalated to pinecones and a coke can. We thought our fire so hot there was nothing it couldn’t transform. The search for an ultimate martyr culminated in the scientific placement of a glass bottle. Ample fuel and much waiting brought the reward. Suspended on a wire hanger in the night air, and surrounded by giddy oohs and ahs, was a blob of molten glass.
I have yet to outgrow my penchant for experimentation. Now I’m testing spiritual limitations. The theoretical inquiry—how many of my choices can I yield to God and see my heart transformed? I’d like to know.
I’ve thrown my afterlife into God’s fire and witnessed it refined into the gold of assurance. Cool, what’s next? I’ve tossed my financial needs into the fire. The results were surprising. The Lord burned off worry and greed, leaving the precious metal of peace. What else can I pitch in there? I put in career choices, but these were only beginner sticks and pinecones. How about my disappointments and habits? What about pastimes and conversations? I wonder what would happen if I let my thoughts be consumed by the Lord’s fire.
One by one, I plan to feed each of these into the crucible of yielding, to see what happens.
Prayer: Lord, what can I give you today?
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- Written by: Don Goulding
But as for me, God’s presence is all I need. (Psalms 73:28)
Mid stride vigor sparked my old dog. She was chasing birds like a puppy with a purpose. Instincts cheered her on—you can do it, run harder, that one is yours. The plovers merely peeped, scissored their legs away, and—when the gap became too narrow—flew back to where the chase began.
The golden retriever spun around and redirected to other prey. Back and forth she galloped, from one bird to the next, tail riding high, a dog in her element. She was out birding with her master.
The Holy Spirit opened a wonderful truth in this scene. Those birds are like my goals. I run for all I’m worth toward a target, and as the gap closes, it flies to a new location. I regroup and head for another mark, only to see it flutter away as well. Ambitions rarely bring satisfaction. Objectives expand, change, or evaporate. I never catch the birds of there-don’t-you-feel-wonderful-because-you-made-it. But my instincts won’t let me sit and look on incomplete possibilities, so I am driven to keep up the chase.
Jesus says, “It’s okay to want the finished product, I made you that way for paradise. But don’t be troubled that, in this life, you run but never seize. The point is not arriving, it’s running, next to me.”
It’s time I learned from my dog. She’s happy running, even if she never gets near a bird. I have to let go of my pride that murmurs “I was made to be the solution to the world.” I’m not. Jesus is the solution. My place is as the object of his love.
“Have fun,” Jesus says. “Go romp, laugh, and grab after goals. But remember, you don’t have to win, you only have to be mine.”
Prayer: Sovereign Lord, my ambition is to be near you.