A sad young minister and his wife came to me for counseling recently. After four troubled years of marriage and two children, they were contemplating divorce. She was the saddest looking wife I have seen in years. Her husband, the young youth minister, stood nearby, shuffling his weight from foot to foot, while his teary-eyed wife sobbed out her confession to me.
The most difficult thing in all the world for Christians to do is forgive. For all the talk in the church about forgiveness, restitution, and healing, there is very little of it truly demonstrated. We all like to think of ourselves as peacemakers, lifters up of those fallen, always forgiving and forgetting. But even the most deeply spiritual today are guilty of wounding brothers and sisters by not showing a spirit of forgiveness.
Not long ago I was invited to a lavish lunch in a spacious New York City apartment. It was a beautiful home, 20 floors up with a wide balcony and a great view of the city. The woman who hosted the event put on a great feast, with luscious vegetables, salads, and pork loin.
When the Lord came to earth to dwell among us, he had a very specific purpose, one that was formed prior to the foundations of the world. Born in Bethlehem, Jesus came with the mission to teach us of the Father, to do mighty works, to rescue us from sin and to free us from all bondage.
That kind of Savior would naturally draw the attention of this world’s ruling powers. Despite all the deadly obstacles thrown at him by man and by Satan, Jesus was able to accomplish his purpose. We see this dark opposition at the very outset of his story:
We long to see our churches transformed, filled with power and the glory of God. The book of Acts shows us the way.
In Acts 3, Peter and John had just been part of a historic spiritual awakening at Pentecost. Jesus’ followers had gathered in the Upper Room when the Holy Spirit came and filled everyone in the place. As a crowd gathered outside, Peter was emboldened by the Spirit to preach — and three thousand people came to Christ in a single hour.
"Ye, beloved, building up yourselves on your most holy faith, praying in the Holy Ghost, keep yourselves in the love of God, looking for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ unto eternal life" (Jude 20–21).
As I read these verses in Jude, I heard the Spirit quietly whisper to me: "David, I want you to enter the fullness and joy of my love. You have the theology right. But you haven't yet experienced the true rest of soul that comes with keeping yourself in my love. Up to now, you've only been in it up to your ankles. There is a whole ocean of my love for you to swim in."
Jesus was ministering to a great multitude when the people began getting hungry. He took his disciple Philip aside and asked him an important question. "He saith unto Philip, Whence shall we buy bread, that these may eat? And this he said to prove him: for he himself knew what he would do" (John 6:5-6).
There is a unique experience common to every follower of Jesus. I’m talking about the tremendous spiritual letdown that follows a mountaintop experience of blessing or victory. We call these experiences “dry spells.” They seem like a deep plunge into spiritual darkness, an immersion in great testings, after we have experienced a special touch of God.
A national radio call-in show spent two hours of a recent broadcast focusing on the book of Revelation. The host posed the following questions to his listeners: “Do you believe that all the recent calamities are God’s judgment for our nation’s sins? Do you think the book of Revelation is being fulfilled? Do you believe we’re living in the end times?”
Isaiah 25 describes an incredible vision. In it, the prophet Isaiah is transported into the future, to the very last days. Bible commentators agree, this is one of the clearest pictures in Scripture concerning the end times. It’s no mystical, foggy prediction. Isaiah shows us precisely what God intends for the nations and for his church, just prior to the end. And right now, we’re living in the very hour Isaiah describes.
