When The Dust Sings

Yesterday I had the honor of speaking at the funeral of a dear friend of our family (Pat Lee.) She was our neighbor for 8 years and as close as family to us. It was one of the more difficult funerals in my years as a pastor.  I was unsure if I would be able to hold together emotionally during the message.  It was also a sweet time of worship with God’s family as we celebrated for her even as we mourned her passing’s impact on us.

Earlier this year, we learned of Pat’s diagnosis of terminal brain cancer.  She was incredibly brave then and throughout the whole of her sickness. In my last conversation with her when she was still lucid, she expressed her desire to go home and how she had wearied of being sick.  She also seemed to become more focused on the gospel.  She was sad to leave behind her loved ones, but she had a gleam in her eye I had not seen since before her diagnosis. That night, I came across this quote from the 18th century Scottish preacher John Love:

But what new, surprising beams of light are these, which dawn in my distant horizon, which snatch the world from my languid eyes! What glory is this which rapidly encircles me! What sounds do I hear! What countenances, what spotless forms, sweep along! What invisible arms embrace me! What majestic splendors attract me, and, with an instinctive, mighty impulse, draw forth the throbbing, panting, groaning cry of my heart, “Let me die, that I may enter into this amazing life!”

As I read this, I realized that I had witnessed this same sentiment in my dear friend.  As much as I hated the thought of seeing her go and as much as I dreaded the thought that she would not see our kids grow up, I knew that she was no longer fit for this world.  I knew “this light momentary affliction had prepared for her an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison.” It is one thing to speak of faith and theology , but quite another to see it with your own eyes. Her dying days were an incredibly strong testimony to the truth of the gospel.

Isaiah 26:19 “Your dead shall live; their bodies shall rise. You who dwell in the dust, awake and sing for joy! For your dew is a dew of light, and the earth will give birth to the dead.”  

There is a bit of variance in interpretation of this verse by scholars, some say that the resurrection spoken of here is individual; others say it is a national resurrection. In either case, the interesting thing here is that those “dwell in the dust” are called to awake and sing for joy.  The dust dwellers are those who mourn with sackcloth and ashes. They aren’t physically dead, but crushed under weariness and loss.

Because of what happened on the cross, Pat is more alive than she ever has been…and we as dust dwellers can awake and rejoice that the reborn soul never perishes.  When we sang “It Is Well” at the end of the service, I was overwhelmed with a sense of joy at what Jesus has done and what that really means for Pat.  It means that this dust dweller is secure in the knowledge that our precious neighbor is home and God is faithful.  It means that I can say “see you soon neighbor” not as a mournful wish, but as a statement of fact.

Congratulations on arriving home Pat.  I will miss that smile of yours, but not forever. I wish I had a chance to share this song with you that epitomized your life when you were here. Till we meet again, may we as John Newton said: “love and sing and wonder” from the dust, of the wonderful works of God and His glorious gospel!

 

Between Two Worlds No Longer – John Stott

A dear friend and mentor (who I never met personally) graduated  into glory last week while I was away on vacation.  I first picked up John Stott’s “The Cross of Christ” when I was a third year seminarian overwhelmed with doubts and discouraged by many aspects of ministry and dealing with people in general.  I had a New Testament theology paper due and I decided to mine the book for quotes as I had heard it was a good source.

As I looked over the book, the opening pages were compelling and convicting.  I “wasted” an entire afternoon reading and enjoying the book.  At one point I happened on this quote:

To “preach the cross” (as in Gal 3:1) is to preach salvation by God’s grace alone.  Such a message is a stumbling block (1 Cor 1:23) because it is grievously offensive to human pride; it therefore exposes us to persecution.

To preach salvation by good works is to flatter people and so avoid opposition.  To preach salvation by grace is to offend people and so invite opposition.  This may seem to some to pose the alternative too starkly.  But I do not think so.  All Christian preachers have to face this issue.  Either we preach that human beings are rebels against God, under his just judgment and (if left to themselves lost, and that Christ crucified who bore their sin and curse is the only available Savior.  Or we emphasize human potential and human ability, with Christ brought in only to boost them, and with no necessity for the cross except to exhibit God’s love and so inspire us to greater endeavor.

The former is the way to be faithful, the latter the way to be popular.  It is not possible to be faithful and popular simultaneously.  We need to hear again the warning of Jesus: “Woe to you when all men speak well of you” (Lk 6:26).  By contrast, if we preach the cross, we may find that we are ourselves hounded to the cross.  As Erasmus wrote in his treatise On Preaching: “Let him (that is, the preacher) remember that the cross will never be lacking to those who sincerely preach the gospel.  There are always Herods, Ananiases, Caiaphases, Scribes and Pharisees.”

As Stott so eloquently reminded us, all ministry is about what Christ has done, not what people are doing.

“For, whether we like it or not, we are involved.  Our sins put him there.  So, far from offering us flattery, the cross undermines our self-righteousness.  We can stand before it only with a bowed head and a broken spirit.  And there we remain until the Lord Jesus speaks to our hearts his word of pardon and acceptance, and we, gripped by his love and full of thanksgiving, go out into the world to live our lives in his service.”

Thank you for doing just that John. I am so glad you are now with the Savior that you taught me so much about.  Even though I feel like I know you, I look forward to meeting you someday.

Eat Meals Daily, When Necessary, Use Food.

“It seems to me that in the orbit of our world you are the North Pole, I the South-so much in balance, in agreement- and yet, the whole world lies between.”  – Thomas Wolfe

“Preach the gospel at all times; when necessary, use words.” - attributed to Francis of Assisi.  This statement is often quoted when someone wants to suggest that Christians talk about the gospel too much, and live out  the gospel too little.   This is certainly problematic - overbearing Christians who “witness” without the corresponding response to the gospel they are supposedly sharing is an absurdity.  But, I think the stereotypical , judgmental, arrogant, overbearing Christian is far more rare than the self assured person who likes this sort of statement  because it enables them to say: “at least I am not as bad as that guy!”

There are several problems with the statement including the facts that Francis of Assisi didn’t actually say it and neither does the Bible.  (The source of the quote is actually unknown.) Words are of vital importance because the gospel is news and news must be told.  Can you imagine a newscast with no words?  A newspaper with no words?  I understand that our response to the gospel is of great importance…as James says “faith without works is dead.”  But I would argue that works without faith are equally useless.

The gospel is news that must be announced.  I remember an old seminary professor of mine who used to say that our evangelism should be honest and intelligent.  There is much wisdom in this.  We must be honest with people about the claims that Christ has made about Himself and our state outside of His grace.  The recent Rob Bell book controversy illustrates how trying to remove the more  socially unpalatable aspects of the gospel can change the gospel into something else entirely.

We must also be intelligent as well, not reducing the gospel to formulaic works of morality and emotional appeals based on personality.  Many people in a so called attempt to share the gospel, actually reveal an unstable faith that can’t deal with honest questions…questions that must be answered with words that reflect our response to what Christ has already done.

Preach the gospel always, it’s necessary to use words!

Romans 10:14 ESV “How then will they call on him in whom they have not believed? And how are they to believe in him of whom they have never heard? And how are they to hear without someone preaching?”

The End of The World, Veterinarian Hospital Edition

I don’t have much to add to the current buzz that has been out there regarding Harold Camping and his May 21 rapture claims, but it does remind me of a similar situation from my childhood.

“But concerning that day and hour no one knows, not even the angels of heaven, nor the Son, but the Father only.”   Matthew 24:36

Wounded With A Blessing

Matthew 11:28-30  “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. 29 Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. 30 For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”

We have a remarkable and sad capacity for getting tired of wonderful things. It is easy to think of many things we were enthusiastic about in the past only to see that excitement fade to apathy with the passing of time. We often find less enjoyment of the things that matter most when we are weary. 

Christians can  get tired of doing good. We can start off so strong but quickly grow weary of well doing. The thrill goes away.  The inner power and joy seep away. It becomes a chore. We lose heart.

“Let us not grow weary in well-doing, for in due season we shall reap if we do not lose heart.” -Galatians 6:9

The hard truth is that our weariness exposes our idols.  We lose heart because our real motive is something other than the glory of God.  Our weariness drives us into to the arms of our savior who offers rest.  Our struggle reveals our lack of faith. 

When we join in the yoke with Him, and we learn from Him, we learn to trust in Him and not in ourselves. And as a result, we let Christ do in us what all along we have been trying to do for ourselves.  We learn to let go of the strain of trying to do this Christian life on our own and learn to let Him do it for us. This is what real rest is.  Sometimes our strength has to give out for us to realize the need be yoked to Christ.

As a rule, I don’t like times of weariness. However, it is in those times my Heavenly Father reminds me of my need to trust Him and believe the gospel even when the results aren’t what I had envisioned and outcomes are personally disappointing.  These things beg a question: what motivates me?  What am I hoping in?  Christ…or me?   

  “Here the bottom falls out of all merit, all powers and abilities of reason or the free will that men dream of. And it all counts as nothing before God. Christ must do and must give everything.” – Martin Luther

Thank God for His loving care, and that our hope has never rested on our own strength.  Whether in times of ease or “when the bottom falls out”, our hope lives on.  What we sometimes see as a curse is in realty our Father “wounding us with a blessing.”

I love this song by Andrew Peterson:

 

In the Night My Hope Lives On
by Andrew Peterson

I am weary with the pain of Jacob’s wrestling
In the darkness with the Fear, in the darkness with the Fear
But he met the morning wounded with a blessing
So in the night my hope lives on

When Elisha woke surrounded by the forces
Of the enemies of God, the enemies of God
He saw the hills aflame with angels on their horses
So in the night my hope lives on

I see the slave that toils beneath the yoke unyielding
And I can hear the captive groan, hear the captive groan
For some hand to stay the whip his foe is wielding
Still in the night my hope lives on

I see the armies of the enemy approaching
And the people driven, trembling, to the shore
But a doorway through the waters now is opening
So in the night my hope lives on

Like the son who thought he’d gone beyond forgiveness,
Too ashamed to life his head–but if he could lift his head
He would see his father running from a distance
In the night my hope lives on

I can see the crowd of men retreating
As he stands between the woman and their stones
And if mercy in his holy heart is beating
Then in the night my hope lives on

I remember how they scorned the son of Mary
He was gentle as a lamb, gentle as a lamb
He was beaten, he was crucified, and buried
And in the night, my hope was gone

But the rulers of the earth could not control Him
They did not take his life–he laid it down
All the chains of death could never hope to hold him
So in the night my hope lives on

I can see the Son of Man descending
And the sword He swings is brighter than the dawn
And the gates of Hell will never stand against him
So in the night my hope lives on

Good Friday Grace

“All heaven is interested in the cross of Christ, all hell is terribly afraid of it, while men are the only beings who more or less ignore its meaning.” Oswald Chambers

Some years ago, I remember a lady who was quite critical of me saying that I was too focused on sin in my preaching.  I was concerned at the time because I have always seen myself as a grace based preacher and wanted to check myself.  As I preached through the book of Galatians, she continued the same line of critique with every mention of sin and wrath.

I also emphasized God’s love as Paul does in the text, but she was unsatisfied and basically informed me she was going to another church.  I didn’t see her for a while until she showed up at our Good Friday service.  I braced myself for her response as I preached about how Christ stood condemned in our place and the gruesome price that He paid to redeem His Bride.

At the end of the service I noticed that she had tears streaming down her face and I very tentatively approached her, expecting a blast of disapproval.  She shocked me when she said: “He’s so beautiful, I never knew Jesus was so beautiful!”

I have noticed a disturbing parallel as of late.  It seems that Christians have a bent to minimize the cross.  Our picture of the cross has been sanitized to a Jesus with three trickles of blood nailed to a varnished mahogany cross.   Sometimes, even though I have studied it for years and know better, the cross gets distorted in my view to something less that the ugly spectacle that it was.  I think this is directly  related to the fact that I don’t always  see the ugliness of my own sin.

It isn’t all that popular today, even in many Christian circles to talk of wrath and sin.  This has been exacerbated by those who have emphasized these things with self righteous glee. But Christ bore the wrath of God for our sin on the cross, and to understand His love, we must understand the price He paid.

Galatians 3:13 (English Standard Version)

¹³Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us—for it is written, “Cursed is everyone who is hanged on a tree.”

It was not that the Father hated his Son on the Cross.   He never ceased to love the Son in whom he was well pleased.  But His children needed to be rescued.

The wisdom of God devised a way for the love of God to deliver sinners from the wrath of God while not compromising the righteousness of God.” – John Piper

All this being said, today is a day of reflection and rejoicing as remember “what kind of love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God; and so we are!” (1 John 3:1)

May we, as that dear lady years ago did,  see His exceeding beauty.  The gap between our sin and His holiness has been bridged.  As Luther put it:

Learn to know Christ and him crucified. Learn to sing to him, and say, ‘Lord Jesus, you are my righteousness, I am your sin. You have taken upon yourself what is mine and given me what is yours. You have become what you were not so that I might become what I was not.’ – Martin Luther

I leave you with a song I can’t get out of my head today: “The Power of The Cross.”

What a love, what a cost!

May we see His grace on this Good Friday!

Soul Gravity

Years ago, Robin and I lived in an apartment that was attached to the church building.  Part of my routine was snow removal from both the entrance to the church and the apartment.  One of my church members had a rickety old snow blower that they had passed on to me.  The throttle was broken and in order to operate the blower, the throttle had to be taped open. (I would shut the blower off by disconnecting the spark plug wire.)

It was a beautiful day, after a powdery snowfall and I was enjoying myself  as I cleaned the snow from the walkway leading to the apartment.  Then I heard a swoosh! from above and looked above…and then the lights went out.

My next sensation was that I was shivering from the cold and I realized that I was laying in the snow face down.  Snow had fallen from the roof 4o feet above me and I had been knocked unconscious.   As I became more aware of what was happening, I heard the distant sound…of the snow blower.

I struggled to my feet and found the snow blower engaged in destroying the picnic table by our front door.  It had wrecked a snow shovel and my scarf and hat on its way up the snow bank. What had started out as a great day turned into a fiasco in short order.

Life is like that sometimes.  Somewhere along the line, we inevitably have a bout of trouble that comes from seemingly nowhere.  We get tired, battered, and discouraged even when we are following Christ closely.  (Many times as a result!)

In Hebrews 2, we see a picture of Christ that can sometimes be minimized or neglected outright.

¹⁷Therefore he had to be made like his brothers in every respect, so that he might become a merciful and faithful high priest in the service of God, to make propitiation for the sins of the people. ¹⁸For because he himself has suffered when tempted, he is able to help those who are being tempted.”  Hebrews 2:17-18 ESV

Sometimes we have a tendency to think that the suffering of Christ began on the passion week.  It actually began at the incarnation.  Jesus understands the gravity of the soul.  He knows what it is like to be exhausted, rejected, and hated, betrayed, abandoned and tempted.

When trouble and pain overwhelm us, we have a Savior who understands.  I used to have this picture of Him tapping his feet, and getting exasperated with me when grief and pain overwhelm, but I really think He simply says “I know this is hard. I remember. I’ve been there.”

He braved the terror of the cross, became my sin, took my wrath, and died my death.  But His suffering began long before the cross, and He knows what its like when gravity grips the soul.  He’s been there.

Broccoli and the Normal Christian Life

I don’t like diets.  It isn’t just that I dislike the food choices on a diet, because generally I like what I am eating, it’s just that many times I eat those things repetitively for convenience sake.

For example, I used to like broccoli.  Once upon a time, I would pick around pieces of chicken on a Chinese food buffet to get pieces of broccoli. But, after a few different rounds of dieting, I am officially weary of  broccoli.  Broccoli is nutritious, and its low-calorie, low-fat and low- carb. These days though, I am not at all moved by broccoli.

There is a monotony in religion that can sap the very life out of a believer.  When we succumb to our low expectations and small view of the Gospel, we begin to worship an idol who is merely a version of ourselves that is somewhat improved.

This can invade our lives in every area, but is especially evident in our worship.  Instead of saying: “I rejoiced with those who said to me, ’Let us go to the house of the Lord.” (Psalm 122:1) We carp about issues of style and preference and yearn for lunch so we can talk about what should have been better about the service. 

John Piper quotes Martyn Lloyd Jones regarding the “normal Christian life.”

Let me use an illustration from Martin Lloyd-Jones in his book Joy Unspeakable to describe the difference between common Christian living and what happens when the Holy Spirit “clothes” a person with power or “comes upon” a person with this unusual power.

He says it is like a child walking along holding his father’s hand. All is well. The child is happy. He feels secure. His father loves him. He believes that his father loves him but there is no unusual urge to talk about this or sing about it. It is true and it is pleasant.

Then suddenly the father startles the child by reaching down and sweeping him up into his arms and hugging him tightly and kissing him on the neck and whispering, “I love you so much!” And then holding the stunned child back so that he can look into his face and saying with all his heart, “I am so glad you are mine.” Then hugging him once more with unspeakable warmth and affection.

Then he puts the child down and they continue their walk. This, Lloyd-Jones says, is what happens when a person is baptized with the Holy Spirit. A pleasant and happy walk with God is swept up into an unspeakable new level of joy and love and assurance and reality that leaves the Christian so utterly certain of the immediate reality of Jesus that he is overflowing in praise and more free and bold in witness than he ever imagined he could be.

The child is simply stunned. He doesn’t know whether to cry or shout or fall down or run, he is so happy. The fuses of love are so overloaded they almost blow out. The subconscious doubts—that he wasn’t thinking about at the time, but that pop up every now and then—are gone! And in their place is utter and indestructible assurance, so that you know that you know that you know that God is real and that Jesus lives and that you are loved, and that to be saved is the greatest thing in the world. And as you walk on down the street you can scarcely contain yourself, and you want to cry out, “My father loves me! My father loves me! O, what a great father I have! What a father! What a father!”

I am afraid that many times we have decided that holding the Father’s hand is too monotonous, too repetitive, to be desireable.  Intimacy looks like work, like broccoli.  Ironically, when we do this, we never experience the intensity of those times when he sweeps us up in His arms and we are overwhelmed.

Yet, that is exactly what we need.  It is exactly what my kids need to see in their Dad, what my wife needs to see in her husband and what my church needs to see in their pastor.  So excuse me if you hear a noise in my study this afternoon as I study Hebrews 2 and Acts 1.  I am not over caffeinated or in need of medication. 

I am just particularly aware today that: “My Father loves me! My Father loves me! O, what a great Father I have! What a Father! What a Father!”

Can’t wait for Sunday!

Yankee Candles and Gospel Motives

I have never been a huge fan of strong fragrance.  I like some  smells, like bacon, coffee or even some perfume that Robin wears, but I don’t like overwhelming smells. 

I used to work with a guy who I was convinced bathed in Aqua-Velva before he would come into work.  I have a very sensitive nose and I would always try to keep my distance from him.  Sometimes, it was tempting to feign an allergic reaction to so as to avoid the overwhelmingly perfumed atmosphere.

One thing that Robin enjoys (we don’t get to go so much now) is Yankee Candles and even more she loves Yankee Candle shops.  The  first time I ever went to one I was almost gagging at the perfumed, multi directional scents that assaulted my nose.

But, over time,  I went in and adjusted and even began to appreciate the different smells and learned that coffee beans were a way of resetting my sense of smell between candles.  (It also helped that the Yankee Candle factory in Massachusetts had a car museum.)

After a while, I even began going to shop for candles without Robin with the intent of buying her some.  The smell lingers with you after you leave and I began to associate the smell with someone I love – Robin. It is no longer a duty to go, but a delight!

Romans 12:1-2 ESV  ¹⁽I appeal to you therefore, brothers, by the mercies of God,to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship. Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect.”

The drink offering portion of the sacrifice in the Old Testament was basically liquid poured over coals that produced a scent.  Using Paul’s image in Romans 12, we need to remember that our service and worship give off an aroma to our Heavenly Father.

It is incredibly easy to serve and worship and even study with a heart focus that is essentially our selves.  Jesus is not a means to a greater end, He is the end!  There is no greater accomplishment, no higher plane than the humbled, crucified, resurrected, exalted Christ!

My wife is beautiful woman who serves our family on a daily basis. But it is not enough for me to love her beauty, or love her service to our family.  I appreciate those things (she does have to put up with me…) I love her! My love is flawed and selfish at times, but I do love her.  She is a gift from God.

What about my Heavenly Father?  How often do I love the blessings and not the source?  How often do I serve out of a sense of obligation or out of a fear of consequences?  What does He think of my worship and service when I am half-hearted and focused in the benefits and not Him?  The country prophet Amos answers this: 

Amos 5:21-24 “I hate, I despise your religious feasts; I cannot stand your assemblies. Even though you bring me burnt offerings and grain offerings, I will not accept them. Though you bring choice fellowship offerings, I will have no regard for them. Away with the noise of your songs! I will not listen to the music of your harps” 

Then he reveals his prerequisites for acceptable worship: “But let justice roll on like a river, righteousness like a never-failing stream!”

Tim Keller in his book Generous Justice addresses the same subject:

“Jonathan Edwards, in his book The Nature of True Virtue, argued that human beings will only be drawn out of themselves into unselfish acts of service to others when they see God as supremely beautiful. Here’s an example to illustrate what he means. If you listen to the music of Bach because you want people to think you are cultured (or because you want to think it of yourself), then the music is only a means to achieve some other end, namely the enhancement of your reputation. But if you play Bach because you find it not just useful but beautiful, then you are listening to it as satisfying in and of itself.

Edwards taught that if, through an experience of God’s grace, you come to find him beautiful, then you do not serve the poor because you want to think well of yourself, or in order to get a good reputation, or because you think it will be good for your business, or even because it will pay off for your family in creating a better city to live in. You do it because serving the poor honors and pleases God, and honoring and pleasing God is a delight to you in and of itself.

It takes an experience of beauty to knock us out of our self-centeredness and induce us to become just.”

May He overwhelm us with His beauty, and may the fragrance be sweet.

Living out God’s Sovereignty

I was chastised by Buck this past week for being a horrible blogging partner, although not his actual words these words express his sentiment . . . “you’re pathetic at blogging”. In all honesty he’s right, this past year I haven’t felt much like writing, I find that writing as an expression of creativity comes easier than writing as a discipline . . . now I’ll see how writing out of guilt works.

One of the issues that we as a family (and obviously as an individual) have been dealing with is the progressive state of my dad’s battle with Alzheimer’s disease. The Monday before Christmas we moved dad to a nursing care facility and after many transitions over the summer and fall we are glad that this will be his last physical move. Over the years since dad`s diagnosis we have collectively learned more about Alzheimer`s disease than I ever had wanted to know about any physical ailment, but more than what we have learned about the physical and mental impact of this disease was also the spiritual implications that it had for us as a family.

It was difficult and interesting a year ago as dad’s condition progressed. For the longest time mom tried to cover up the symptoms of dad`s spiral, he had been diagnosed almost a year ago and even before that we as children were starting to see the signs. However when the night time wandering, depression and anxiety went out of control my mom tried to cover it up. Her answer when it came to a point (around Easter) as to why she tried to hide dad`s decline from us was `well if you kids knew what was going on I knew that you’d make me move from our house`. Then end result was that mom had compromised her emotional/mental health, they required 24 hr care for weeks before mom’s health improved and eventually over the spring and summer dad was hospitalized and we moved mom closer to one of my sisters.

I watched not only as a son, but as a son who had been brought up by Christian parents, attended Church and Sunday school every week (I even have a string of attendance awards to prove my/their faithfulness). I had been trained not only at church but also at home to trust in Jesus, to cast all my cares upon him, to lean on the everlasting arms of Jesus . . . yet here was my mom in her time of crisis not depending on the everlasting arms of her saviour but in her own strength and creativity to hide my dad’s condition so she could manipulate us as her children into thinking that everything was ok.

In the wake of those rough weeks and the months since the question I have asked has been “where was my mom’s trust in the sovereignty of God?” The chilling reality is that like many across our nation’s churches my mom never got past the fire insurance of the gospel and the morality code of church to integrate into her life’s practice the difference the gospel makes to us on a day to day basis. Whether from lack of teaching or that she had found a comfort zone in faith that sets one’s mind at ease (that they have done enough) my mom had never understood that the gospel life calls us to understand that all circumstances (even my dad’s disease) are under the directive hand of the maker of heaven and earth- there was a failure to understand and live out the great sovereignty of God.

This experienced has changed me. It has impacted me in the most deep and profound way (I as well as my youngest son have anxious tendencies) as well as in caring/teaching the congregation I shepherd. We have just walked through in our area a wild flood and still work through the implications of it (I will write on this maybe next year :0), as a congregation we continue to walk through terminal illness and daily crisis. Constantly we try to talk about the sovereignty of God and how he is at work in our lives and the world around us using our life’s circumstances to shine light on His Glory.

I guess the question I ask you today is how do you allow the sovereignty of God impact your life?