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- Written by: Don Goulding
The unbeliever does not receive the things of the Spirit of God, for they are foolishness to him. And he cannot understand them, because they are spiritually discerned. The one who is spiritual discerns all things, yet he himself is understood by no one. (1 Corinthians 2:14-15)
I watch Chinese faces in the underground church as they cry out in passionate worship, and I know why they risk gathering. I join Africans in a praise dance, clapping out complex rhythms and shouting between lyric phrases, and I know exactly what's inside their hearts. I overhear a political fracas or gasp after the latest school shooting, and a secret knowledge of the cause burns in my soul.
As a Christian, I have clearance for intelligence on the state of two opposing unions. I am briefed on what makes heaven sing and what makes hell screech. But I can’t talk about it openly. Discussions of divine glory and eternal burning appear fanatical to those who do not lift the lens of Jesus Messiah to their eye.
An agent of God is called to fix what they can that is broken in this world. Jesus bestows far more authority on us than our enemy would have us know. We can pray down strongholds, speak the words of God, and be operatives of reconciliation. Every Jane and Joe Christian among us needs to rise up as the spiritual warrior we were meant to be.
There are, however, struggles that are destined to continue until Christ returns. Jesus lamented Jerusalem when he longed to gather her children like a hen gathers chicks under her wings. Paul spoke of holy groaning—a deep, commiserating heartache that we are not home in God’s perfection.
I am moving through an epic tragedy with my best comrade, Jesus. We shout victory after some fights, after others we weep—in everything we are together. Throughout eternity, he and I will retell our adventures under a giddy bond because we lived them—both the heavenly and the hellish—together.
Prayer: Thank you, Jesus, you for entrusting me with your knowledge.
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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.