Devotions

I am convinced people lose hope because they’ve first lost faith. They have heard many sermons and read many books, but they see examples all around of shipwrecked faith. Christians who once espoused the gospel are now giving up their trust in God. Where do people turn for hope? The Spirit once said to me, “You have to anchor your faith. Set your heart to trust God in everything, at all times.”

To “set” our faith means to “stabilize, set down roots, lay a foundation.” Scripture says it is within our power to do this. James writes, “But let him ask in faith, with no doubting, for he who doubts is like a wave of the sea driven and tossed by the wind. For let not that man suppose that he will receive anything from the Lord” (James 1:6-7, NKJV). In this passage, the Lord lays the whole responsibility on the believer.

God is telling us, in essence, “When the world looks at my people in these days of trembling and anxiety, they have to be able to see faith. While everything is shaking, faith is what must remain solid and stable. So anchor your faith. Christian, take a fixed position. Never give up that position.”

I’m convinced that the world doesn’t need more sermons on faith. They need to see an illustration, the life of a man or woman who’s living out their faith before the world. They need to see servants of God go through the same calamities they’re facing and not be shaken. David described this when he spoke of “those who trust in you (the Lord) in the presence of the sons of men” (Psalm 31:19). He was talking about believers whose strong trust in Christ is a beam of hope to those in darkness.

When you determine to set your faith on Christ, you are going to be severely tested. Once, when I was in the process of laying my burdens on the Lord and setting an enduring faith, I received a phone call with news that shook me. For a moment, a flood of fear swept over me. Then the Holy Spirit gently whispered, “Don’t give up your faith. I’ve got everything under control. Just stand steadfast.” I will never forget the peace that flooded through me at that moment. By day’s end, my heart was full of joy.

As Christians, we are quick to offer the grace of our Lord to the world, but we often parcel it out meagerly to ourselves. To me, this is the most difficult part of forgiveness.

Consider King David, who committed adultery and then murdered the husband to cover up his offense. When his sin was exposed, David repented, and the Lord sent the prophet Nathan to tell him, “Your sin has been pardoned.” Even though David knew he was forgiven, he had lost his joy. He prayed, “Make me hear joy and gladness, that the bones you have broken may rejoice. …Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and uphold me by your generous Spirit” (Psalm 51:8,12, NKJV).

Why was David so disturbed? This man had been justified before the Lord, and he had peace through God’s promise of forgiveness. It’s possible to have your sins blotted out of God’s ledgers but not out of your conscience. David wrote this psalm because he wanted his conscience to stop condemning him for his sins. David couldn’t forgive himself. Now he was enduring the penalty for holding onto unforgiveness, an unforgiveness directed toward himself, and that was a loss of joy. The joy of the Lord comes to us as a fruit of accepting his forgiveness.

I have been greatly impacted by the biography of Hudson Taylor. Taylor was one of the most effective missionaries in history, a godly man of prayer who established churches throughout China’s vast interior. Despite this, he ministered for years without joy. He was downcast over his struggles, agonizing over secret longings and thoughts of unbelief.

In 1869, Taylor experienced a revolutionary change. He saw that Christ had all he needed, yet none of his own tears or repenting could release those blessings in him. Taylor recognized there was only one way to Christ’s fullness: faith. Every promise God had made with man required faith. Taylor became determined to stir up his faith, yet even that effort proved vain. Finally, in his darkest hour, the Holy Spirit gave him a revelation that faith comes not by striving but by resting on the promises of God. That is the secret of tapping into all of Christ’s blessings.

Taylor forgave himself for the sins that Christ had said were already cast into the sea. Because he rested on God’s promises, he was able to become a joyous servant, continually casting all his cares on the Lord.

We all have seeds of jealousy and envy in us. The question is who among us will acknowledge it? A Puritan preacher named Thomas Manton said of the human penchant for envy and jealousy, “We are born with this Adamic sin. We drink it in with our mother’s milk.” It is that deeply a part of us.

Such sinful seeds keep us from rejoicing in the blessings and accomplishments of others’ ministries or works. Their effect is to erect powerful walls between us and our brothers and sisters: “Wrath is cruel and anger a torrent, but who is able to stand before jealousy?” (Proverbs 27:4, NKJV). James adds to this, “If you have bitter envy and self-seeking in your hearts, do not boast and lie against the truth” (James 3:14). In plain terms, this sin of jealousy and envy is a bitter poison. If we hold onto it, it will not only cost us spiritual authority but open us to demonic activity.

King Saul provides the clearest example of this in all of scripture. In 1 Samuel, we find David returning from a battle in which he slaughtered the Philistines. As he and King Saul rode into Jerusalem, the women of Israel came to celebrate David’s victories, dancing and singing, “Saul has slain his thousands, and David his ten thousands” (1 Samuel 18:7).

Saul was wounded by this joyous celebration, thinking to himself, “They have ascribed to David ten thousands, and to me they have ascribed only thousands. Now what more can he have but the kingdom?” (1 Samuel 18:8). Immediately, Saul was consumed by a spirit of jealousy and envy. In the very next verse, we read of the deadly effect it had on him. “Saul eyed [envied] David from that day forward” (1 Samuel 18:9). Tragically, after this, “Saul became David’s enemy continually” (1 Samuel 18:29).

What happened the next day ought to fill us all with holy fear: “Now Saul was afraid of David, because the Lord was with him, but had departed from Saul” (1 Samuel 18:12). Saul had been absolutely deluded by his jealousy. He could not humble himself before the Lord in repentance. Had he recognized his own envy and plucked it from his heart, God would have heaped honors on his anointed servant. Christ explained this truth of God’s kingdom to his followers, saying, “For whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted” (Luke 14:11).

Scripture solemnly commands us, “Therefore, as the elect of God, holy and beloved, put on tender mercies, kindness, humility, meekness, longsuffering; bearing with one another, and forgiving one another, if anyone has a complaint against another; even as Christ forgave you, so you also must do” (Colossians 3:12-13, NKJV).

Bearing with someone and forgiving them are two different issues. Bearing with someone, or forbearing, means ceasing from all acts and thoughts of revenge. It says, in other words, “Don’t take matters into your own hands. Instead, endure the hurt. Lay the matter down and leave it alone.”

We are given a powerful example of this admonition in David’s life. He was in a vengeful rage toward a wicked man named Nabal because Nabal refused to help him when he needed help. David swore revenge, but he obeyed God’s counsel, “Do not avenge yourself… Let the Lord fight your battle.” That situation was resolved in a timely manner, and David praised God for his intervention (see 1 Samuel 25).

David had another opportunity for easy revenge when he found his pursuer, Saul, asleep in a cave where David himself was hiding. David’s men urged him, “This is God’s doing. He has delivered Saul into your hands. Kill him now! Avenge yourself.” However, David forbore, instead cutting off a piece of Saul’s garment so he could later prove he could have killed him. Such wise actions are God’s ways of putting our enemies to shame. In that case, Saul saw David’s proof and responded, “You are more righteous than I; for you have rewarded me with good, whereas I have rewarded you with evil” (1 Samuel 24:17).

Jesus never said the work of forgiving would be easy. When he commanded, “Love your enemies,” the Greek word for “love” does not mean “affection” but “moral understanding.” Simply put, forgiving someone isn’t a matter of stirring up human affection but making a moral decision to remove hatred from our hearts.

Forgiveness encompasses two other commandments that Christ gave his followers. “But I say to you, love your enemies, bless those who curse you, do good to those who hate you, and pray for those who spitefully use you and persecute you” (Matthew 5:44). As one wise old preacher said, “If you can pray for your enemies, you can do all the rest.” I have certainly found this to be true in my own life.

In Genesis 2, God is talking to Adam, “You need somebody suitable to help you. I'm going to make somebody for you. It's going to be just right for you.” God brings all the animals and says, “Let's see what we can find.” So Adam’s naming all the animals. You have to wonder, though, why does God do this?

I believe Adam was being given a firm realization of his own longings. Many Christians are confused about this. We oftentimes think that any longing or passion that we have — because it seems to spring from our heart — is automatically evil. However, not every longing you have is inherently wrong.

In Genesis, we’re told no fit helper was found for Adam, so God takes a rib out of him and makes a woman. Adam sees her and says, “This at last is bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh; she shall be called Woman, because she was taken out of Man” (Genesis 2:23, ESV). When scripture says ‘this at last,’ the Hebrew can be translated in several different ways; one would be along the lines of ‘finally’ or ‘it's about time.’ There's been this burning desire in Adam’s soul, and God has finally called him to satisfy this longing in his heart.

A legitimate longing is one that God brings to you. Longing for worship, community, building a life with a spouse, ministry. The moment that we begin to believe there is satisfaction beyond God, however, we run into trouble. Let's take money, for instance. Everybody needs money to pay your bills and have a place to live. Longing for money in order to successfully care for a family or live responsibly is not wrong. If we want money to buy ourselves security or other selfish reasons, it takes on an illegitimate form. Similarly, longing for a relationship is not wrong, unless you are forcing it through your own power. Longings can be corrupted, but they are often born out of something God spoken into our hearts.

You and I were intended to love people. This is not just a story of marriage. It goes broader than that. God created us to be with one another, to love one another, to have fellowship, to share our lives together with one another. Our selfish longings will build us up or separate us from others. Our God-given longings will always build on love for one another.