I posted this over a year ago, but thought it good to mull over again, especially in light of recently going through Romans 14 in church.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

I always listen/read with great interest when the topic of entertainment is discussed as it pertains to its appropriateness for Christians.  It usually begins with a discussion of whether or not a certain book or movie is okay for Christians to watch/read.  Some say that fiction is just that - fiction, and therefore shouldn’t be regarded as a big, scary enemy.  Others say that Christians must carefully guard what they see/hear and only allow what is good and pure.  (Phil 4:8)

Both sides have their points, and the discussion heats up.  Liberty is pitted against high standards.  Yes, we have freedom, and as long as we aren’t sinning, we are free to choose certain things. And yes, we are to feed on that which is good, so that we are growing.

There are usually cautions on both sides, since it is true that forever indulging in the freedoms we have can lead to a spiritual lukewarmness, and yet insisting on the opposite is not acknowledging the inevitable inconsistency in our own life.

I’m not sure how accurately Phil 4:8 is used.  I do know that Jesus saw and heard many, many things that were not pure and lovely when he was partying with the sinners.  Or even dining and talking with them.  Being Godly doesn’t mean removing ourselves from the culture around us.  And yet If we were honest about the context in which Phil 4:8 is usually heralded, then for some, watching the Food Network would be in direct violation of that verse.  The fact is, there are some things we should rightly avoid!

How, then, do we decide on whether or not we ourselves should enjoy a certain object of entertaining media?  I think the right questions to ask ourselves is not whether the media itself is evil or not, but should be regarding our purpose, maturity and response.

Are we viewing what we come in contact with through the correct lens?  Are we in prayer and the Word enough that we are able to discern what is being thrown at us?  Are we capable of enjoying the entertainment value without stumbling, or is it causing us to feed our flesh?

It isn’t necessary to be afraid of everything, seeing a devil around every corner.  We don’t need to fear culture.  We should recognize it, learn it, and use it.

And then someone always, always, has to say something to the effect of “Well I don’t enjoy x, y, or z and never have, and I don’t see how anyone could!”

And that’s where my head falls in my hands, as I sadly realize that once again we miss the point.

The problem with saying such a thing is that, in essence, one is saying that they themselves are the standard to which everyone else must measure up.

And that is not only a scary view, it is hideously wrong.

Sometimes I can’t help but think that it would be better for our children to be raised pagan, heathen un-churched sinners (as opposed to the religious, churched sinners), get saved later on in life, and then live out their days completely in love with Jesus.

Because, far too often, this is what happens instead…

Children who are raised in a Christian home are mainly taught morality and religion.

(Don’t do this.  Don’t do that.  And don’t even think about the other.)

So then most kids grow up obeying a set of arbitrary, biblically unsupported rules, singing songs about whales, attending church and all the church stuff, hanging out with fellow screwed up church kids, etc. etc. until they get old enough to where they have to think for themselves and life starts throwing them some big curve balls.

They usually respond in one of three ways.

1. They become legalistic morons, parroting the same (out-of-context) verses that they hated so much when they were younger, and end up fulfilling the stereotype that rejects anyone that isn’t exactly like they are.
2. They become just another fake church-goer playing pretendsies, who tithes and periodically warms a pew, and ends up filling the good little boy/girl role well on the outside while their real life is just as screwed up (if not more so) than everyone else’s.
3. They reject everything, scorning church and everyone in it, and end up seeking an alternate pseudo-spirituality or just living entirely for themselves.

And yet, I read a theme over and over in the Bible that says there is great blessing in growing up within the Lord’s teachings and ways.

I don’t want to teach my children a list of right and wrongs. I want their hearts to be gripped by the Gospel.

I want their lives to be fueled by the Spirit and transformed by the love of Jesus.  I want them to be completely enamored by the why’s and how’s of a Gospel-centered life.

But how?  My life is not perfect. I am a work in progress, myself.  A pilgrim walking on the road that leads to sanctification.  So how do I fulfill this seemingly impossible task?

I think the biggest hindrance is hypocrisy.  Children can see right through religious talk, straight into the way their parents lead double lives.   No amount of fake holiness can make up for witnessing people who are motivated (dragged down) by anger or pride, or are bound up in habitual hidden sin, or fail to have valid answers for their childrens’ questions.

All I can say is that I’m beyond thankful for the grace of Jesus.  Through it I have an everlasting hope.

Despite my past failures and future goof-ups in parenting, through this grace it I have the ability to be forgiven, forgive others, and ask my children to forgive me.

And, most of all, I lean on this grace to capture the hearts of my children, to do what I could never do, as God draws them to himself.

There are so many people who “used” to believe in God.

Who used to go to church and pray and read the Bible.  But then some bad stuff happened in their lives, and stuff didn’t really end up the way they should have, and now they have no use for that Jesus garbage.

It’s crazy how much we view God as a casino slot machine. We slip the coins in and after spending a bit of time, we expect some payback.

Or maybe another analogy would be our car.  We gas it, clean it, and change the oil.  And we expect that it will take us from point A to point B.  When it doesn’t, we look for a problem.  Is it out of gas?  Does it need a new belt or transmission?   Can I invest more money in it so that it continues to do what it should?

God doesn’t work that way.

It doesn’t matter how good you are.  It doesn’t matter if you keep all your rules, give lots of money away, or read a verse every day.  There is no guarantee that you will not experience suffering, in some form or another.

In fact, Jesus said to expect suffering.

Yes, the laws of the harvest apply (if you sow, then you will reap) and there are principles of blessing that are true.

But here’s the stickler.

God is more concerned with the health of our heart, spirit and soul than he is the health of our body and bank account.

If going through pain, loss, hardship, or persecution will end up making us closer to Him, then He’ll allow it, and use it for His glory and our good.

It’s funny.  We read about Jesus’ life and all that he struggled through.  We read of the Apostle’s beatings and even deaths.  We know of the martyrs and the history of persecution in the church.

And yet..

When we feel the slightest pinch of discomfort, how often do we pull up our mental checklist to see if we’ve been reading our Bible, praying, and giving like we should?  Or at least attending church now and then.  Then we either pat ourselves on the back or resolve to fix things before stuff really goes bad so that we have our butts covered.

But if things continue to go downhill?  Oh, we’re angry. After all, didn’t we uphold our end of the agreement?  Is this what we deserve after doing the “right” things and being so “good”?  We rage against the unfairness of the situation.

And then we question if God is good.

Because, in our minds, a good God would save not only our soul, but our marriage, health, finances, relationships, mortgage and anything else we deem important.

We make up this meaning of who God should be.  We make an idol, and we worship it, then hate it when it fails us.

God is not a genie in a bottle.  He’s not a grandfather in the sky with pockets full of peppermint candy.  He’s not an angry, yelling father doling out punishments.

We can’t really understand suffering and trials and all the horrid stuff that happens in this life until we understand who God is.

And, who He isn’t.

When people who don’t know me happen to catch a glimpse of the inside of my van, part of me wants to just sink quietly into the parking lot until I disappear.  The other part of me wants to immediately cry out, Ya gotta understand… I have six children!

Because it could use a little, um… vacuuming?

More like, it could use a large claw that would pick it up, turn it sideways, then shake it out.

A heavy-duty power-washer would be nice, too.

Or when I’m making a quick trip alone to the store and realize I have a dried snot loogy on the front of my shirt.  It’s too late to run to the restrooms and frantically try to scrub it out.  I’m at the checkout, and not only has everyone in the store seen it, but the lady ringing up my order has already noticed it and is avoiding eye contact so as not to invite the weird hippie (me) to start talking about her 30 cats and egg carton collection.

I want to explain, I didn’t use the front of my shirt as a snot receptacle, honest!  I always use a tissue.  Just like normal people!  I just happened to console my crying young boy who had fallen minutes before I walked out of the door to come here.  I take regular showers, too.

Yeah.  So, there’s lots of things I want to explain to people.  At times I can almost hear the assumptions being made, because I do that too.  And so do you.

Yes, you do.

It’s like that with our house, too.

I love our house. Absolutely, love it.  I love the craftsmanship, the history, the attention to detail, and the huge number of closets.  But when someone comes for the first time who hasn’t known us for long, I want to explain it away.  I want to clarify that I don’t believe I’m something because of having something.

I want to describe how, years ago, we had a new house and lots of toys and new furniture and sporty cars and everything we wanted and then sold it all and then simplified and sold more stuff and grew two big gardens then simplified more and lived in a small cabin and milked goats and raised chickens and *ack* didn’t even have lights or a flush toilet and then I want to tell them the story of how we got the house and the thought behind it and our intention for it and then add all the God stuff like prayer and and how many people we have over and how we try to practice words like hospitality and stewardship…

Now, some labels don’t bother me, even if they’re wrong.

(Like the recent accusation that I’m a brainless wife who just parrots my husband and does whatever he tells me.  It was better to just play it up and act as if they were right, and so much more fun!)

(The same person labeled me a Neo-Christian.  I have to admit I didn’t even know what that was.)

(Actually, the exact term was a “f*cking Neo-Christian”.  But it was meant in the kindest way, I’m sure.)

Stuff like that makes me smile.  But, other labels…?  Not so much.

Because I don’t want people to think I’m materialistic.  I’m afraid of being labeled shallow and greedy. I don’t want to be thought of as someone who thinks they’re better.

All that explaining I want to do sometimes?  It would be to make me look better in the way I want to look better.

Which really is just another form of pride.

I guess the important thing is to just consistently check my attitude, intentions, and motivation, then leave the rest to God.  If I have to always clarify and explain, then maybe my heart isn’t right.  Actions reveal what is in the heart.

There’s something funny that happens when one’s heart is changed.

(Not funny as in haha.  Funny as in interesting or weird.)

God is constantly molding me.  He’s given me different interests and desires than what I once knew.  He’s stretched me in some areas while allowing me to flourish in others.

And lately, I’ve been especially aware of how there has been a change in the way I see people.

I want to start out by admitting that when I first meet someone, I tend to make a really quick assessment.  I just get a vibe one way or another.  It’s not intentional, and it’s not even a conscious act most of the time.  It just is.

But.  I also attempt to take that first assessment and just file it away in the back storage areas of my mind.  It’s basically used to make practical decisions like how far I should trust that person, or how much info I should divulge about myself, or how many grains of salt I should add to whatever they say.  Stuff like that.

Regardless of the file that was stored, there is a genuine effort to treat the person lovingly and respectfully.  One can maintain common-sense boundaries and still be caring.

And yet, there is something that has changed in my filing process.

I don’t just make note of the nice manicure and new clothes.   I see the yearning for acceptance.  I don’t just hear small talk about the weather.  I also hear the unspoken but unmistakable plea for love.

Yeah, the world is full of beautiful, involved, and busy people.  But when you look closer, you notice that they are also limping, diseased and in pain.  So much pain.

He can’t stand his wife.  She longs for a husband.  He doesn’t want to be around his children.  She loves her son.  He is sick of pretending.  She wants a divorce.  He’s going to lose his job.  She is tired of waiting.  He just wants to drown the sorrow.  She just wants to dance the sorrow away.  He wants to forget for just a little while.  She only knows significance by turning his head.  He resorts to foul language to hide his insecurities.  She talks dirty to make believe her heart isn’t breaking.

It goes on and on and on.

It’s easy to despise people who look so good on the outside.  They seem to have it all together.  They smile a lot.  They also talk about themselves a lot.

It’s easy to overlook their real condition.  Now I just want them to know the Great Physician.  The one who heals the scars on our hearts with the scars on His hands.

But there’s something else I have to admit.

When He opens the eyes of my heart to see their sores and soul-cancer, I cringe and want to look away.  I don’t want to help.  I know that change and healing involves tears and time.  So much time.  I want to remain in my safe, comfortable place where I am overwhelmed enough with my own crap.  How can He expect me to reach out when my hands feel tied with everything that I need healing from?

And then, He reminds me.  Yes, it is He who heals.  But it is His body, His people, who are to be His hands.

It’s not my effort.

I just need to be willing to be used.

Earlier I introduced the idea that I often act as if I am an opponent to God’s grace.  I continued by writing about a common response to the concept of grace - Rejection.

I had mentioned that there were two common reactions to grace.  Another frequent response to grace is disbelief.  You may ask how rejection differs from disbelief.  They may sound similar, but they are completely opposite responses.  Let’s go back to rejection for a minute.

We reject grace when we want to believe there’s something good in ourselves.

There is something inside each of us that constantly demands recognition and accolade.  We like the thought that God was attracted to something in us.  Our hearts warm to the idea that it was due to our act of softening or heeding that causes us to be His.

I already discussed how this leads to a very warped and unbiblical idea of salvation.  It focuses on my works, standards, and acceptability; therefore making Jesus’ sacrifice of no value.  If Jesus’ death and resurrection are of no value, then why did he die?  Was it simply for himself, to show us an example or a way?  If that was the reason, and I only have to strive to be like Him, then what does it mean to take on his righteousness?  Why does the Bible say he died for our trespasses (sin) and raised for our justification? (Romans 4:25) If I am justified by my obedience (Romans 5:19) why do I need Christ’s justification through obedience?

If it’s a matter of my obedience to Jesus’ example, then I am an opponent of God’s grace.

So that’s rejection of grace.  Now for disbelief.

We disbelieve grace when we doubt God’s love for us.

Here is an excerpt from Part 1:  “As I understand that there was nothing, nothing, in me that God needed or was attracted to, I am filled with an inexpressible thankfulness to Him.  God the Father loves me as He loves Christ, since his righteousness is now mine. (John 17:23)  I can scarcely take it in!”

Do you get that?  God the Father loves you as He loves Christ!  And, Jesus loves me as he loves the Father! (John 15:9) Jesus himself said so.

When we get a glimpse of the depth of our sin, when we really see how ugly our hearts are, when we truly understand how dead we were… The fact of God’s love seems unbelievable.  Add to that the fact that God’s love is not just love as we know it here on earth.  It is unsurpassed, unconditional and unchanging.  The Bible mentions God’s unfailing love 32 times.  Psalm 136 is a whole chapter dedicated to God’s enduring love.

How could a perfect and just God find anything lovable in me?  How is it possible that the Almighty Creator of the Universe, the one who knows no beginning and no end, loves me?

Ephesians 2:4 answers this by saying God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ - by grace you have been saved - and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus.

And 1 John 4:10 In this is love, not that we have loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins. v19 We love because he first loved us.

He loved even while I was completely dead, full of sin!  Ephesians 1:4 says God chose us in him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and blameless before him. In love he predestined us for adoption as sons through Christ Jesus, according to the purpose of his will, to the praise of his glorious grace, with which he has blessed us in the Beloved.

The fact is, there isn‘t anything in me that God could love.  It is through Christ that he loves me.  Jesus took my sin and the deserving wrath of God upon himself, and gave me his righteousness.  When God looks at me, he sees Jesus.

Can you take that in??

What this means is that his love isn’t based on my accomplishments or even obedience.  That seems really scandalous, but his love extends even to those of his who are rebellious. Psalm 107 describes how he chastises his children to draw them to repentance and freedom, all because of his steadfast love for them.

(I’m not talking about unbelievers (those who are not his children) or giving license to sin.  1 John and Romans 6 go more into that.)

If you are one of his, he loved you before the world was here.  He loved you before you were born.  He demonstrates his love for you constantly, through blessing, correction, guidance and so on.

The most evident proof of God’s love is the fact he sent his Son, Jesus Christ, to be the atonement for your sins.  Can you imagine that?  I think I would die so that my child could live, but…

Can you imagine allowing your child to die so that a totally undeserving, terrible person could live?

Now, that is beyond comprehension. Yet, that’s exactly what God’s love spurred him to do.

So let’s step back and take a look.  God tells us in his Word that he loves us.  He demonstrated his love through the cross.  He continues to make it evident every day.

Can you see now how the sin of unbelief is so harmful?  It basically takes the entire story of creation, redemption and salvation and attempts to wipe it out, simply because we’re focusing selfishly on our shortcomings.

Whether we reject grace by erroneously trusting in our own righteousness or disbelieve grace by obsessing over our unrighteousness, both are in error because they assume the key somehow lies in our own merit.

Grace is scandalous.

I previously shared how the concept of grace causes such mixed reactions.  As you think on it, what is your reaction?

There are several responses, but I want to concentrate on what I believe to be two of the most common.  The first reaction when confronted with grace is rejection.  After all, doesn’t embracing grace give license to sin?  Isn’t it silly and even wrong to think one could have a ‘free pass’ to heaven?

For most of my life, the concept of grace was foreign to me.  I read of it often in the Bible, but rarely spoke of it.  In my mind, it just didn’t seem to match with my understanding of God and how I related with him.  When I pictured God, he was a loving Creator who yearned to be my Father if only I would let him.  I imagined him looking down, holding out his hand, hoping that I would respond.  Choosing to follow him was a result of my own doing - softening my heart and heeding his call.  I pictured heaven and angels rejoicing over my decision to choose him over the temptations of the world and the desires of my flesh.

In my continuing walk with God, I focused mainly on my ability to walk worthy and be a better person.  There was a great fear of the uncertainty of life and the timing of Jesus’ return because I believed all had to be in perfect order for me to be accepted into heaven - sins acknowledged and repented for, an acceptable level of performance, a certain standard of behavior, and so on.

There are several things wrong with this view.  In the first place, it assumes that it is I who initiated the relationship.  It presupposes that there was something good and desirable in me that enabled me to overcome natural tendencies that others would not.

Further, through the great importance placed on my own strivings and personal abilities, I was basically making void the finished work of the cross.  In placing my trust in my sacrifices -  what I did or didn’t do, or how I did it - I was missing the true gospel story; that is, Jesus made the perfect, all-atoning sacrifice for me.  By thinking there must be further sacrifices made in relation to my level of worthiness, I was declaring his sacrifice to be insufficient.

The struggle to live a worthy life and to be a good example was a heavy burden in which I agonized over daily defeat.   The weight of insufficiency sometimes threatened to drown me, and I continually sought refuge in the misguided thought that at least I was doing some things right.  As I placed my confidence in how I did certain things or didn’t do other things, I managed to set up a false sense of security.  That, perhaps, was far more dangerous than the fear of never attaining perfection.

It says in Hebrews 10 By the which will we are sanctified through the offering of the body of Jesus Christ once [for all].  And every priest stands daily at his service, offering repeatedly the same sacrifices, which can never take away sins:  But when Christ had offered for all time one sacrifice for sins, sat down on the right hand of God;  For by a single offering he has perfected for all time them those who are being sanctified.

Paul answered the erroneous claim of those who scoff at grace in Romans 6. What shall we say then? Are we to continue in sin that grace may abound? By no means! How can we who died to sin still live in it? Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death?We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life.

Romans 5:8 is just one of the many verses that lays to rest any claim I have to boast about when it comes to the part I had in my salvation.  But God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.  For if while we were enemies we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son, much more, now that we are reconciled, shall we be saved by his life. And I cannot forget Romans 3:11. None is righteous, no, not one; no one understands; no one seeks for God.

As for the satisfaction I took in what I thought served to make me better in God’s view - Isaiah 64:6 But we are all like one who is unclean, and all our righteous deeds are like filthy rags; and we all fade like a leaf; and our iniquities, like the wind, take us away.  Filthy rags can be translated as a polluted garment.  As a cloth diapering mom, I know full well the stench of a dirty diaper. That is how my good deeds and righteous works appear to a just, all-powerful God.

Yes, I still strive to have a closer walk with Jesus.  Yes, I recognize that I must daily sacrifice my will, and take up the cross.  Yes, I know that I need to continue to mature in my faith, produce fruit, and become more like Christ.

The difference is that by accepting grace as a reality and embracing it as fully as I can comprehend it, I walk with joy.  My confidence is placed in Christ’s finished work on the cross and the fulfillment of his resurrection.  The realization of the depth of grace repels me even more from the desire to sin.  I know that I can never walk worthy, not even close, but I am filled with an assurance that I am God’s through Christ, and that nothing can separate me from Him.  (Rom 8:39)  As I understand that there was nothing, nothing, in me that God needed or was attracted to, I am filled with an inexpressible thankfulness to Him.  God loves me as He loves Christ, since his righteousness is now mine. (John 17:23)  I can scarcely take it in!

Romans 5:17  If, because of one man’s (Adam’s) trespass, death reigned through that one man, much more will those who receive the abundance of grace and the free gift of righteousness reign in life through the one man Jesus Christ.

Grace.  I don’t understand it.  I can’t fully explain it.  But I am utterly and completely grateful for it.

Part Two is here.

I’ve been thinking on this quite a bit lately.

There are many ways in which I could be an opponent of God’s grace.

1. Anytime I feel like I am doing something good or right that will therefore cause me to feel more worthy.
2. When I compare myself to those that are doing “worse” than me, and feel better about myself, my righteousness, and a little more deserving of God’s love for me.
3. When I compare myself to those that are doing “better” than me, and feel awful and undeserving of God’s love.
4. When I wallow in self-pity and depression, which is really a form of pride.
5. When I revel in my accomplishments to the point of taking full credit.
6. When I trust in perceived merit by focusing on works - being good, worthy, spiritual, obedient, etc.
7. Not truly believing in God’s steadfast love for me, even during times that I am rebellious or disobedient.
8. When, during times of trial, I’m wanting to know “why” or question God’s love and care for me.

There are plenty more, and I ‘m sure you could think of some of your own.  Feel free to do so in the comments!

So many times, I do the above things and then think “Ooops, I shouldn’t be heading this way”.

But it really takes on a whole new meaning when I understand that in doing so I am not only thinking erroneously, but I am, in fact, an opponent of God’s grace.

Mull on that for a minute.

I think often it’s easy to say, ‘Yes, I am forgiven and cleansed through the blood of Christ, and I fully trust in the atoning, finished work of Christ. I am saved by grace.”

And yet, every time I do any one of the above things I listed, my actions and thoughts are in contradiction to that statement.

Grace.

It is at once a beautiful, awesome word and a horrible, unbelievable word.

Beautiful and awesome - because I can know that grace is a gift, totally undeserved and freely given to me.  Hallelujah!  What unspeakable joy to think that God the Father sent the Son to die for me, when my sin and the justice of God dictated that I should indeed die and face eternal hell.  Jesus took my sins upon himself and paid the penalty.  Fully.

Horrible and unbelievable - because it goes against the inner, sinful desire to somehow believe that I am a good person.  Part of me likes to think that God saw something in me, a soft heart maybe, and yearned for me to call out to him.  It’s easy to want to believe this great lie!

I cannot wrap my mind around grace, because I tend to think of love in human terms and capabilities.  But God’s love and mercy cannot be compared to ours, and doing so is a grave disservice to who He is.

Part One is here.  Part Two is here.

Someone recently posted a quote on Facebook from John Piper’s book, Don’t Waste Your Life, spurring some old thoughts on the subject. The following was originally posted back in April of 2008.

Don’t Waste Your Life

I’m currently reading a book with that title, and it’s really challenging me in good ways.

The author, John Piper, writes about the tragedy of a wasted life.  He begins by citing a married couple who take an early retirement in their late 50’s and spend their time in Florida cruising on their boat, playing softball and collecting shells.

We can waste our life no matter what our age and occupation.  It’s not a salvation issue.  We can fully belong to Christ and still end up with a wasted life. As Piper puts it, we could get to Heaven and say to Jesus, “Here, look at my seashells”.

Writing specifically to the Christian, he takes a whole 3 chapters to illustrate how our purpose is to pursue God’s glory… and enjoy it in the process.  So our joy is His joy.  Our meaning is displaying His greatness.  In creating us for His glory, he creates us for our highest joy.

This is a strange thought to an unbeliever.  If anyone else were to exult themselves to that level, we would view them selfish to the extreme.  One might ask, If God can love me, how can it be love to create something to simply glorify himself?   But that is viewing it from our distortion of love.  We think love is being made much of.  It’s making self the object of our highest affection, and evaluating everyone by how they treat us, how they make us feel, how they value us.

But God changes that distorted view of love.  He liberates from the bondage of self-regard so that we enjoy making much of him forever.  This is true fullness of joy.  This supreme satisfaction is what should call the Christian to truly love others.  Not by making them feel good about themselves, but by showing them God and His gospel.

Piper puts it this way.  “To make them feel good about themselves when they were made to feel good about seeing God is like taking someone to the Alps and locking them in a room full of mirrors.”

I read for a couple more chapters, enjoying his illustrations and stories.  Then I came to a surprising chapter about taking risk.  He wrote,

“If our single, all-embracing passion is to make much of Christ in life and death, and if the life that magnifies him most is the life of costly love, then life is risk, and risk is right.  To run from it is to waste your life.”

1 Corinthians 15:31, Luke 9:23, 2 Corinthians 4:16-17 and 12:9-10

Whatever gain I had [in life], I counted as loss for the sake of Christ.  Indeed, I count everything as loss because of he surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord.  For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that i may gain Christ. Philippians 3:7-8

We do not know the future.  We don’t even know what will happen for sure within the next five minutes.  In this aspect, we cannot avoid risk.  It’s a part of us.  It should cause us to acknowledge that there is no real security.  He writes that our myth of safety needs to be exploded.

Take the story of Esther.  She did not have a special revelation from God.  She simply made a decision based on wisdom, love for her people, and trust in God. She did not know what the outcome of her actions would be, but handed the results over to God saying, “…and if I perish, I perish.”

Look at what happened to the people of Israel when they stood at the border of the Promised Land, unable to explode their myth of safety.  They didn’t want to take the risk of battling the giants and instead murmured, complained and even spoke of returning to Egypt!  The result?  Wasted years and wasted lives.

I’ll again quote Piper for he says it best.

“What about you?  Are you caught in the enchantment of security, paralyzed from taking any risks for the cause of God?  Or have you been freed by the power of the Holy Spirit from the mirage of Egyptian safety and comfort?  Do you men ever say with Joab, “For the sake of the name, I’ll try it!  And may the LORD do what seems good to him”?  Do you women ever say with Esther, “For the sake of Christ, I’ll try it!  And if I perish, I perish”?

So many times its tempting to remain stagnant because its easy to worship at the idol of security.  What that really means is bowing down to fear.  Fear of the unknown is a difficult thing.  It’s been challenging to me search my heart and root it out.

There’s a need for prayer to ask for guidance and wisdom.  And then there’s the next step of taking action.  How easy it would be for me to never move forward by simply claiming that I’m not clear what God’s direction is in a certain area!

I am not a natural risk taker.  But being married to a man who isn’t afraid of change and risk stretches me, and yet frees me.  I have peace because I pray continually for God’s will and hand in all my husband’s decisions.  Therefore I can simply trust, because by following him I am in essence trusting in God.  So even if he makes what I think is a bad choice, I can lay it at Christ’s feet and not fret or worry.

The last thought that’s challenged me in this book so far (I’m not finished so there’s sure to be more!) is what Piper calls a “wartime lifestyle”.  When making choices, especially about how we spend money, it should be with this wartime mindset.

We acknowledge there is a war going on between Christ and Satan, truth and falsehood, belief and unbelief, and there are weapons to be funded and used.  Weapons of the Gospel, prayer, and self-sacrificing love.

How easy it is to slip into a “peacetime mindset” and focus on comfort and fun.   Or just get wrapped up in my own day to day busyness and forget the larger picture.  If there truly is a war, how can I be content to live a life of ease?  To simply work, play, sleep and repeat day after day?  To talk only to the same people; those like-minded individuals or families who are just like me?  To live without truly engaging others by isolating myself within my home and my family?

This was challenging in and of itself.  But then I came across this paragraph;

“Why not speak of a “simple lifestyle”?  It is more helpful to think of a wartime lifestyle than a merely simple lifestyle.  Simplicity may have a romantic ring and a certain aesthetic appeal that is foreign to the dirty business of mercy in the dangerous places of the world.  Simplicity may also overlook the fact that, in wartime, major expenses for complex weapons and troop training are needed.  These may not look simple, and may be very expensive, but the whole country sacrifices to make them happen.  Simplicity may be inwardly directed and may benefit no one else.  A wartime lifestyle implies that there is a great and worthy cause for which to spend and be spent. (2 Corinthians 12:15)”

What a great thought.  Simplicity is so often over-romanticized.  In an effort to stick to basics, the focus can increasingly become self and it becomes an idol. 

While we are patting ourselves on the back for practicing frugality and plainness, those on the front lines of battle are crying out for our help and support.

Further, the related terms independent homesteading and self-sufficient living can be used to justify a reclusive lifestyle.  Maybe it’s helpful in a limited sense to our self when we are isolated and practice mere avoidance.  But how does that impact anyone, especially for the Gospel?  How does that prepare our children for what they’re sure to face if they do not choose the same reclusive lifestyle?

Ultimately, whether we squander our time here on earth, become immobilized by fear of risk, or end up too focused on our tiny dot of the universe, we’re likely to miss the fullness of a life lived radically for Christ.

We’re likely to waste our lives.