A Bigger Perspective

Rich Dixon, Author/Speaker
 www.relentlessgrace.com

Have you ever looked out an airplane window at night?

I flew across most of the U.S. last night and received a glimpse of daily life from a different perspective.

At one point I noticed a small cluster of lights, obviously a small town isolated in a sea of blackness. I thought about the people in that town. Each light represented an individual life focused on its own pain, joy, struggle, and triumph. I imagined conversations and arguments, urgent tasks and quiet evenings.z

I wondered if any of the lights represented a person in turmoil. Was someone contemplating a divorce, wondering how they’d pay the mortgage, or grieving a loss? Did a parent worry about a child’s illness or unfortunate choices?

I wondered whether someone in the cluster of flickering lights searched for God, longed for His presence in a season of despair. Did someone slump on weary knees whispering a desperate plea for relief or cry out in anger to a seemingly absent God?

As that small collection of lights receded, another appeared on the horizon. I felt the temptation to dismiss the petty squabbles and pains, to somehow call for a broader perspective from which our daily trials seem trivial and insignificant. I wanted to tell them to step back, see their small dots of concern in the context of a larger picture. I wished I could show them that everything’s okay, the world still moves along, and frankly that their isolated little light really isn’t such a big deal.

Then I wondered about God’s perspective. If those tiny individual lights seem trivial from a few thousand feet, how inconsequential must they appear to the One who holds all of it in the palm of His hand? While I see a few dozen miles from my window, He sees the entire universe and all of time at once. He watches from a truly eternal perspective I cannot even imagine.

In His eyes, my light is a blink in time. I’m here, and then I’m gone. Why would He care about my self-centered, momentary worries? The cluster of lights that’s so important to me is a single flash of absolutely no consequence.

I’m grateful that God doesn’t see it like that.

He doesn’t sit above and watch dismissively as we place our struggles at the center of the universe. He doesn’t hover above in His celestial private jet and scoff at our flickering spots of light. He doesn’t dismiss our individual trials as temporary and unimportant in the grand eternal plan of the kingdom.

Instead, He lands the plane. He climbs from the glory of heaven and walks with us. He hears every cry, feels every hurt, comforts every desperate soul. Even the dimmest, most isolated light matters to Him so much that He sacrificed His Son to redeem it.

God does ask us to take a bigger view and try to see from a broader perspective. Jesus continually instructed His followers to think in terms of His kingdom and live in a manner that transcends daily, worldly concerns. He knew that our human lives are a small blip on the eternal radar.

We are not human beings on a spiritual journey. We are spiritual beings on a human journey. Steven Covey

He also knows that we can’t do it. We can’t see it from His point of view. Even when we try, our biases, limitations, experiences, and desires get in the way. He understands that our tiny cluster of lights is the center of our universe, even when we don’t want it to be.

So He lands the plane and walks beside us. He trades the spotlight of heaven for the dim light of a human life. And, even more, He does what we cannot. He lives as a man with eternal perspective, a man who truly understands that His true calling is service and obedience. He pays the price we can never pay.

We can never see our lights from His point of view, but we can know that He understands. We can know that He sees and cares intimately about every one of our lights. And we can know that His desire is for that light to shine brightly and eternally.

I’ve tried to hide my own light. I’ve wandered in darkness so intense that I was sure not even God could see me. I’ve been certain that my light didn’t matter to God or to anyone else.

Through all of that pain, He refused to give up on me. Jesus walked beside me in that darkness and carried me over some especially rough spots. He wept with me, hurt with me, and loved me when I wasn’t very lovable.

Your light matters in an intensely personal way to God.

My friend Dick Foth was once asked to explain the Christian message in simple terms. He said:

Jesus left His place, and came to our place. He took our place, so He could take us to His place.

Why Would He do that for you and me? Because our lights matter more to God than His own Son.

Did you enjoy this article? Please leave a comment, visit my website, and/or send me an email at rich@richdixon.net.

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Love Without Strings

Complex Simplicity

The Strength To Be Gentle

Take Up Your Mat

Rich Dixon, Author/Speaker
www.relentlessgrace.com 

A few days later, when Jesus again entered Capernaum, the people heard that he had come home. So many gathered that there was no room left, not even outside the door, and he preached the word to them. Some men came, bringing to him a paralytic, carried by four of them. Since they could not get him to Jesus because of the crowd, they made an opening in the roof above Jesus and, after digging through it, lowered the mat the paralyzed man was lying on. When Jesus saw their faith, he said to the paralytic, “Son, your sins are forgiven.” [Mark 2: 1-5]

Does Jesus surprise you?

I’m always amused to discover something new in a familiar story. As a quadriplegic, I’ve read this story from Mark many times. But recently I encountered a new twist that impacts the notion of new beginnings.

I’ve always wondered why Jesus responded initially by telling the paralytic that his sins were forgiven. I don’t think that’s why his friends carried the man to the roof, dug a hole, and lowered him into the room. I think they believed Jesus would heal the man’s body.

In the years following my injury, I begged God for physical healing. I sincerely believed He could mend my injury with a single touch. I pleaded, I cried, I bargained, and I screamed in the darkness. “God, please heal me!” I didn’t understand why He ignored or denied my prayers.

After years of frantically trying to get God to give me what I wanted, I finally heard His response and realized that He offered what I really needed. I finally heard Jesus patient voice saying, “Rich, your sins are forgiven.”

Beneath the broken body, God saw my broken heart. He knew that depression and regret comprised the walls of my prison, and that freedom could only be found in His forgiveness and grace.

The religious leaders in the crowd around Jesus understood.

Now some teachers of the law were sitting there, thinking to themselves, “Why does this fellow talk like that? He’s blaspheming! Who can forgive sins but God alone?” [Mark2:6-7]

Jesus claimed authority reserved for God alone. They might dismiss physical healing as illusion, but Jesus’ offer of forgiveness threatened the foundations of their superficial religiosity.

Immediately Jesus knew in his spirit that this was what they were thinking in their hearts, and he said to them, “Why are you thinking these things? Which is easier: to say to the paralytic, ‘Your sins are forgiven,’ or to say, ‘Get up, take your mat and walk’? But that you may know that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins . . . .” He said to the paralytic, “I tell you, get up, take your mat and go home.” He got up, took his mat and walked out in full view of them all. This amazed everyone and they praised God, saying, “We have never seen anything like this!” [Mark 2:8-12]

Jesus healed the man as a sign of His authority, but first He provided what the man truly needed—forgiveness and a full, free heart.

I suspect that most of the audience—then and now—missed the point. They were amazed and praised God because a paralyzed man walked. I wonder if any of them understood that the man’s freedom didn’t depend on a healed body.

That’s why I keep telling this story. I am not thankful for the struggle of my injury. I don’t know why it happened. I still believe God can heal me, and I don’t know why He doesn’t. Those are questions for greater minds than mine.

But I do know that my freedom and hope aren’t founded on my physical circumstances. Jesus helped me out of the darkness and into His light with a simple message, “Rich, your sins are forgiven.”

That’s what SetFreeToday is all about. It’s about something much more important than this world’s temporary troubles. It’s about Jesus, and the freedom, forgiveness, hope, and new beginning He offers. We’re not prisoners of the past.

You’re free. Take up your mat.

What’s a new beginning you need today?

Did you enjoy this article? Please leave a comment, visit my website, and/or send me an email at rich@richdixon.net.

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Four Questions For Broken People

Where’s God When I Need Him?

Asking The Right Questions

Expectations

 

 

 

 

 

“There is something new every day if you look for it.”  –Hannah Hurnard

 

“Be alert, be present. I’m about to do something brand-new. It’s bursting out.  Don’t you see it?”  –Isaiah 43:19a

Finally I could stand my confinement no longer. After a full Saturday of writing, housecleaning, and catch-up with longstanding projects, I flung open the front door, breathed in the uncharacteristically cool-for-late-August St. Louis air, and proclaimed to my family, “Stop what you’re doing and grab a jacket. We’re going apple knocking!” I had received notification several days earlier from my favorite Illinois orchard that the Jonathans were ready to pick. And I was ready to pick them! Ripe for adventure, I deserted my duties and bolted for the car with my family.

The ride was lovely. The pastoral river road followed the mammoth Mississippi which unfurled like sliding silk. Occasional small waves ruffled by motorboats splintered the water into shards of dancing diamonds.  Our spirits danced as we anticipated the joyful camaraderie we’d celebrate, as together we plucked great globes of ruby fruit, crisp and succulent—taking those first luscious bites, sweet juice drizzling down our chins. We would fill our bags to overflowing and cart home our crimson cache, soon to be transformed by deft hands into pies, crisps, cakes, and cobblers.

But anticipation turned to disappointment when we discovered that the apple orchard was closed. The worker explained that I had misread the notice and that the orchard would open the following weekend. “But,” he added with a grin, “if you travel down the road a little farther, you’ll see signs leading to our competitor.”

Ah, what a difference a few miles can make. We had no idea that this “new” orchard existed.  We had never looked beyond the old one. Not only did we pick our beloved Jonathans, but mouthwatering Honey Crisp and Golden Delicious, as well, along with plump peaches and bulging blackberries. Our bags did indeed burgeon. As an extra surprise, this orchard boasted a market stocked with homemade apple butter, apple cider, caramel apples, honey, sauces, and a host of other taste-tempting treats.

On the way home we encountered another surprise. As was our custom, we stopped at a restaurant in a small river town just before crossing over the Mississippi back into Missouri, to purchase a big pan of “blonde” brownies, the moistest, chewiest, densest sweet imaginable.  Sheridan and I ran from the car and were crestfallen to find a “closed” sign on the cafe window. Undeterred, however, I tried the door and was thrilled to find it unlocked. Even though the cashier was counting the day’s earnings, Sheridan and I begged to buy some brownies. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she relayed. “I sold the last batch about a half hour ago.”

With that, my usually shy daughter asked to speak to the owner.  I was a bit embarrassed, but wasn’t quick enough to stop her. Within seconds the owner appeared, and Sheridan pled, “Could we please, please have your recipe for blonde brownies?” Much to our amazement, the gracious woman asked us to draw up chairs to a table and recited the entire recipe from memory as I scrambled to take dictation. She even divulged two important secrets: “You must bake the brownies for exactly twenty minutes, no more, no less, and they’ll turn out best baked in a ‘granite’ pan.” One could tell this was not a pitch to sell her wares, but the meticulous attention of a master baker to her tools. I told Sheridan to run outside where her father was waiting in the car, to ask him if we could buy a pan for $19.

Within minutes, she ran breathlessly back into the restaurant. “Sure, Daddy will take it.” The compliant restaurateur rang up the sale and we ran out, pan in hand. As Michael pulled out of the parking lot with his left hand on the steering wheel, he held out his upturned, empty right hand to me.

 ”What’s up?” I queried.

“Give me a brownie, please.”

“What brownie?” I inquired.

“You bought a whole pan of brownies. I’d like one now, please.”

“No I bought a brownie pan.”

“What?!”

“A granite brownie pan.”

“Are you kidding? I thought you were buying a pan of brownies!”

“No, I asked Sheridan to ask you if we could buy a brownie pan.”

“We paid $19 for an empty pan? I figured with the going rate of individual brownies that $19 was a great deal for a whole pan of them. But a pan? You have to be kidding!”

“Well, Mike, I did ask; and you are missing the point. Not only do we have a special brownie pan, but the owner gave me the original recipe, so we can fill the pan as often as we like!”

Ah, expectations. That day, we expected only Jonathans and got a cornucopia of sumptuous fruit. We anticipated baked brownies, and got an empty pan . . . but we’ll look forward to making the world’s best brownies ourselves as often as we dare to indulge in them.

On the ride home, as I mulled over the day’s events, they flowed like a river of journal-writing metaphors. which I hoped to explore when I got home. I began to ponder . . . How often do I pin my hopes on specific expectations, only to be disappointed because they’re not met in the precise ways that I desire or anticipate? Despite my disappointment, am I alert and “present” to look for something brand-new, something bursting out of the ordinary, that God has prepared for my delight, just around the corner, just around the next bend in life’s road? Will I stop to appreciate it or just speed by? Am I constantly putting out my upturned palm or empty brownie pan expecting God to fill it with His abundant blessings, or am I asking Him what my part is in baking blessings that please Him and delight others? Faith without works is dead, and I need to ask God how to use the ingredients He’s given me to create a life that nourishes others and sweetens their hearts. I determined then and there not to put God in a box or all my brownies in one pan. I submitted to my master Creator-Chef, realizing that when I have eyes to see–to really look for Him and His ways and a willingness to relinquish my disappointments to Him–He will lead me to new things, wonderful things, far beyond my wildest expectations.  And how thankful I am for my journal, the perfect place to consider and capture God’s blessings.

Your Invitation . . . Explore these questions in depth in your journal: What are times when God has not fulfilled your deepest expectations and dreams? What was the result? How did you feel? How did you respond? What difference has it made in your life? As you look back, what new things, better things did God do in your life despite that He hadn’t met these old expectations? How did He “work your disappointments together for good”? (Rom. 8:28) Will you consider emptying your heart of biased or personal expectations? Will you let God be God and do what He does best by fulfilling your heart’s desires with His dreams for your life? Will you allow Him to fulfill your life far beyond your limited expectations, nourishing and satisfying your soul with indescribably sweet blessings? Draw an empty “brownie pan” in your journal to symbolize your heart, emptied of your willfulness and preconceived, limited expectations. Also write about ways God is showing you to do your part in “baking” a life of faith and blessing to others.

© Lynn D. Morrissey. Permission to reprint any or all of this material is required.

Four Questions For Broken People

Rich Dixon, Author/Speaker
www.relentlessgrace.com

 

 The ultimate measure of a person is not where one stands in moments of comfort and convenience, but where one stands in times of challenge and controversy. Martin Luther King 

Have you ever thought you were too weak to help?

It’s easy to imagine someone who’s better qualified, tempting to believe that your personal failures render you useless. We all want to conceal our dirty laundry, but followers of Christ must remember that we’re called to serve where we are and to offer ourselves in that service. We’re all gifted so we can offer those gifts in service to others.

I prefer to think in terms of ”serving” rather than “helping”. For me, service better conveys Jesus’ attitude. He didn’t assist from a position of superiority. Instead, He chose to step into the position of servant. He modeled service based on humility and calls us to follow Him.

If you’ve ever believed you are too damaged, too weak, or too broken to contribute, here are some questions to consider.

If God can’t use broken people, who will He use?

Let’s face it—God works through His people, and we’re all damaged goods. Acknowledging brokenness is a necessary step in following Jesus because it gets you on the path to service. We need to understand that everyone on that path is messed up.

“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. [Matthew 5:3]

In the first of The Beatitudes, Jesus blesses the “poor in spirit,” those who recognize their dependence on God. Then He hands us the keys to His kingdom.

Why hide your light?

Jesus didn’t talk so much to the stars of the religious community, those who had all the answers and stood apart from those in need. He spoke instead to the poor in spirit and the meek, the broken people who had no status or authority.

“You are the light of the world. A city on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before men, that they may see your good deeds and praise your Father in heaven. [Matthew 5:14-16]

He gave you a light. Don’t hide it.

If you’re stuck in a hole, wouldn’t you want to meet someone who’s been there and knows the way out?

We’ve all experienced struggle and grief. Bad stuff happens, life isn’t fair, and we’ve all lived with consequences of unfortunate choices. Our hope lies in God’s promise that He won’t waste our pain.

And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. [Romans 8:28] 

God creates beauty from the junk in our lives. Let’s offer it to Him, and to His people, in service and love—because He first loved us.

People often ask, “Who am I to …?” A better question might be, “Who are you NOT to …?”

It’s uncomfortable to publically acknowledge personal failure. In an image-conscious culture, we work hard to hide imperfections and mistakes.

We need to be clear about why we’re sharing. I shouldn’t dump on someone who’s already hurting just to make myself feel better. I must be careful about telling someone “I know how you feel,” because I probably don’t.

Nobody has made more of a mess in their life than I did. No one has squandered God’s blessings more carelessly. I am absolutely not qualified or worthy.

Relentless Grace isn’t my story, it’s God’s story. Who am I NOT to share the hope that comes from knowing that God will never give up on any of us? That’s a light that needs to be displayed for all to see.

If you’ve messed up, welcome to the human race. There’s no shame in failure and a great deal of anxiety in hiding it. Don’t be afraid to offer the gift of your experience. To someone else, it may be priceless.

What difficult experience can you offer to someone who needs it?

Sometimes the greatest heroes aren’t the strongest or the most talented. Sometimes the greatest heroes are the people who simply show up.

Did you enjoy this article? Please leave a comment, visit my website, and/or send me an email at rich@richdixon.net.

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Rich Dixon, Author/Speaker
www.relentlessgrace.com

 

It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery. [Galatians 5:1]

How much do we limit ourselves with a misguided sense of obligation?

Jesus-A Line In The Sand

Rich Dixon, Author/Speaker
www.relentlessgrace.com

 

But Jesus went to the Mount of Olives. At dawn he appeared again in the temple courts, where all the people gathered around him, and he sat down to teach them. The teachers of the law and the Pharisees brought in a woman caught in adultery. They made her stand before the group and said to Jesus, “Teacher, this woman was caught in the act of adultery. In the Law Moses commanded us to stone such women. Now what do you say?” They were using this question as a trap, in order to have a basis for accusing him.

But Jesus bent down and started to write on the ground with his finger. When they kept on questioning him, he straightened up and said to them, “If any one of you is without sin, let him be the first to throw a stone at her.” Again he stooped down and wrote on the ground.

At this, those who heard began to go away one at a time, the older ones first, until only Jesus was left, with the woman still standing there. Jesus straightened up and asked her, “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?”

“No one, sir,” she said.

“Then neither do I condemn you,” Jesus declared. “Go now and leave your life of sin.” [John 8:1-11]

How do you think of Jesus?

I think it’s interesting that He filled so many varied roles during His life. He was teacher and rabbi, revolutionary leader and religious radical. He was human son and brother and worked at a common trade. He spoke to large crowds and wandered alone in the wilderness. But one activity we take for granted is almost never associated with Him.

We don’t think about Jesus the writer.

When the woman accused of adultery was brought before Him, Jesus stooped and wrote in the sand of the temple floor. It’s the only time the bible refers to Jesus writing.

We don’t know what He actually wrote. Scholars speculate that it was a list of sins committed by the accusers, or that He doodled in the dust to create a pregnant pause. Some even claim to “know” what He wrote based on interpretation and extrapolation from other scriptures. My take is that, since it’s not recorded, the actual content doesn’t matter.

A LINE IN THE SAND

My guess is that, in some way either literal or metaphorical, Jesus drew a line in the sand of the temple floor.

Regardless of its actual content, His message was unmistakable. There is a clear, distinct line between right and wrong, between righteous and sinful. And we’re all on the same side of that line.

I wrote earlier about our obsession with labels and drawing lines. We’re eager to divide the world into “us” and “them,” good guys (us) and bad guys (them). We’ll acknowledge our own mistakes, but we’re clearly not as bad as the REAL sinners.

A BETTER CLASS OF SINNER

We work very hard to draw lines that associate us with a better class of sinners, but we need to understand that our lines don’t matter. They’re a feeble attempt to distinguish evil, really evil, not-so-evil, and just-sortta-evil.

Jesus erased our artificial distinctions between acceptable and unacceptable sin. He ripped the veil from public piety that conceals private failure and revealed the darkness that haunts every human heart. We’re all on the wrong side of His line. His challenge for the person without sin to cast the first stone convicts all of us.

Jesus’ line in the sand makes the only true distinction. He’s on one side, sinless and obedient. We’re all on the other side. None of us is worthy to judge. Under His criteria, only Jesus can throw that initial stone.

BEYOND LINES

But then He did something remarkable. After all her accusers vanished, the guilty woman stood alone with Jesus. She now faced the true judge, the only One on the other side of the line.

He’d banished the pretenders, exposing their false sense of superiority by trapping them in their own logic and legalism. Her accusers were gone, but her guilt remained. She was still on the wrong side of the line, along with me and you.

Guilty. No defense, no justification, no denial, no appeal. The verdict’s in, and we stand before the judge. Doomed.

And the judge says the most amazing thing. “I don’t condemn you. I love you so much that I’ll pay your debt. Go now, and leave your life of sin.”

And just like that, we’re free. The record’s wiped clean. No guilt, no condemnation. We didn’t earn it, don’t deserve it, and can’t really understand it. But we’re free.

That’s what SetFreeToday is about. The line didn’t disappear. I’m still on the wrong side, guilty, awaiting sentencing.

You can’t erase your past. You can’t wipe away the worldly consequences of your own errors or obliterate others’ evil deeds. You can’t go back; life doesn’t provide do-overs.

But you can go forward in hope. Jesus says, “I see you as you are, and I love you more than you can imagine. Leave here with a new beginning. Go now, and leave your life of sin.”

“We are all products of our past but we don’t have to be prisoners of it.” – Rick Warren

Did you enjoy this article? Please leave a comment, visit my website, and/or send me an email at rich@richdixon.net.

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Rich Dixon, Author/Speaker
www.relentlessgrace.com

 If you’re feeling far away from God, guess who moved?

Do you ever feel like God’s least present when you seem to need Him most?

Lost In Darkness

When I struggled with depression following my injury, God seemed to be a million miles away. I knew intellectually that He was right beside me, but it sure didn’t feel like that. I imagined myself wandering in darkness so impenetrable that not even God could find me.

Complex Simplicity

Rich Dixon, Author/Speaker
www.relentlessgrace.com

 “Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?” Jesus replied: ” ‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.” [Matthew 22:36-40]

A couple of weeks ago, Becky and I visited a gorgeous historic hotel in the Colorado mountains.

Designers restored and modernized this majestic treasure, including remarkable accessibility, while maintaining its unique charm. In one spot a small patio sits at the bottom of a steep slope with stunning views of surrounding landscapes. At the top of the slope, neatly hidden from sight, is a modern parking lot. The challenge: how to allow visitors to change levels without destroying the beauty of this secluded oasis.

A simple set of steps solves the problem for most folks, but they’d be an intrusion on the natural environment and wouldn’t allow easy access for all. Instead, architects created a curving, gently-pitched path that winds down the hill. Benches, trees, and strategically-placed colorful plants guide visitors to the bottom along a series of small pools connected by bubbling waterfalls. The solution is simple and elegant and enhances the space.

It’s the perfect answer to a difficult problem. Someone worked hard to create this unobtrusive, peaceful complexity that almost disappears into the background.

Simple—but not simplistic. Complex—but not complicated.

In the scripture above, Jesus is asked for the first priority in His teaching, and I don’t think the first word He spoke was an accident. “Love …” The answer is so simple. Like that gentle path on a steep hillside, He distills centuries of scholarship into a single word. “Love …”

And we reply, “Yeah, but …”

You can almost hear their response. “Love? You want us to solve everything with love? You have no idea how complicated our lives can be. It’s just not that easy!”

And He smiles gently and says, Really? You think I don’t understand?

When we encounter adversity, pain, grief, and unbearable despair, life seems much too complicated for such a simplistic response. We need a pragmatic answer, something that works in the real world. When the past covers you with a blanket of shame and guilt, the present spins out of control, and the future looms in darkness devoid of direction, Jesus doesn’t seem to get how impossible it all seems.

And He smiles gently and points to the cross. He gets it.

When God first greeted Adam and Eve in the garden, He pointed to the wonderful complexity of all He’d created. His command was simple. Live in loving relationship with each other and with Me. Enjoy it all, but don’t mess with this one tree.

Their disobedience cluttered the world with the complications of sin and polluted God’s simple design. He made it complex—we made it complicated.

Jesus gets it, and He still stands and points to the cross.

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

Easy? Light? Rest? What about all of that theology and religion, the books and the study? And what about all of the junk that the world dumps on us, not to mention our own mistakes and failures? What’s so light and easy about any of that?

And He smiles gently. The religion, theology, and sin aren’t His stuff. That’s all ours, the product of our own silly attempts to do it our way. In fact, I love the way this passage is expressed in The Message:

“Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.”

Jesus lived simply, but His message certainly isn’t simplistic. He doesn’t promise an easy life; in fact, His life was hard precisely because He chose the simple truth of love.

But my way’s hard too, and seems only to surround me only with more and more levels of complicated, tangled messes that become ever more snarled as I struggle to free myself. Jesus didn’t design this jumbled confusion, but He does understand it. He lived it, and He knows the only effective escape strategy.

The simple question isn’t whether He understands. He does. The only question is whether I believe enough to trust His elegantly uncomplicated guidance.

And I echo the man from Mark 9: I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief.

And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love. [1 Corinthians 13:13]

Faith, hope, and love. Simple—but not simplistic. Complex—but not complicated.

What’s an aspect of your life that seems overwhelmingly complicated? Does any of this make sense in that circumstance? 

I also post several articles each week at BOUNCING BACK. Please drop over there and join the circle.

 

Did you enjoy this article? Please leave a comment, visit my website, and/or send me an email at rich@richdixon.net.

Subscribe to receive updates by Email

Related articles:

Follow Me And Be Free

Sheep And The Good Shepherd

Who Do You Trust?

Complex Simplicity

Rich Dixon, Author/Speaker
www.relentlessgrace.com

“Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?” Jesus replied: ” ‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.” [Matthew 22:36-40]

A couple of weeks ago, Becky and I visited a gorgeous historic hotel in the Colorado mountains.

Designers restored and modernized this majestic treasure, including remarkable accessibility, while maintaining its unique charm. In one spot a small patio sits at the bottom of a steep slope with stunning views of surrounding landscapes. At the top of the slope, neatly hidden from sight, is a modern parking lot. The challenge: how to allow visitors to change levels without destroying the beauty of this secluded oasis.

A simple set of steps solves the problem for most folks, but they’d be an intrusion on the natural environment and wouldn’t allow easy access for all. Instead, architects created a curving, gently-pitched path that winds down the hill. Benches, trees, and strategically-placed colorful plants guide visitors to the bottom along a series of small pools connected by bubbling waterfalls. The solution is simple and elegant and enhances the space.

It’s the perfect answer to a difficult problem. Someone worked hard to create this unobtrusive, peaceful complexity that almost disappears into the background.

Simple—but not simplistic. Complex—but not complicated.

In the scripture above, Jesus is asked for the first priority in His teaching, and I don’t think the first word He spoke was an accident. “Love …” The answer is so simple. Like that gentle path on a steep hillside, He distills centuries of scholarship into a single word. “Love …”

And we reply, “Yeah, but …”

You can almost hear their response. “Love? You want us to solve everything with love? You have no idea how complicated our lives can be. It’s just not that easy!”

And He smiles gently and says, Really? You think I don’t understand?

When we encounter adversity, pain, grief, and unbearable despair, life seems much too complicated for such a simplistic response. We need a pragmatic answer, something that works in the real world. When the past covers you with a blanket of shame and guilt, the present spins out of control, and the future looms in darkness devoid of direction, Jesus doesn’t seem to get how impossible it all seems.

And He smiles gently and points to the cross. He gets it.

When God first greeted Adam and Eve in the garden, He pointed to the wonderful complexity of all He’d created. His command was simple. Live in loving relationship with each other and with Me. Enjoy it all, but don’t mess with this one tree.

Their disobedience cluttered the world with the complications of sin and polluted God’s simple design. He made it complex—we made it complicated.

Jesus gets it, and He still stands and points to the cross.

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

Easy? Light? Rest? What about all of that theology and religion, the books and the study? And what about all of the junk that the world dumps on us, not to mention our own mistakes and failures? What’s so light and easy about any of that?

And He smiles gently. The religion, theology, and sin aren’t His stuff. That’s all ours, the product of our own silly attempts to do it our way. In fact, I love the way this passage is expressed in The Message:

“Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.”

Jesus lived simply, but His message certainly isn’t simplistic. He doesn’t promise an easy life; in fact, His life was hard precisely because He chose the simple truth of love.

But my way’s hard too, and seems only to surround me only with more and more levels of complicated, tangled messes that become ever more snarled as I struggle to free myself. Jesus didn’t design this jumbled confusion, but He does understand it. He lived it, and He knows the only effective escape strategy.

The simple question isn’t whether He understands. He does. The only question is whether I believe enough to trust His elegantly uncomplicated guidance.

And I echo the man from Mark 9: I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief.

And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love. [1 Corinthians 13:13]

Faith, hope, and love. Simple—but not simplistic. Complex—but not complicated.

What’s an aspect of your life that seems overwhelmingly complicated? Does any of this make sense in that circumstance?

 I also post several articles each week at BOUNCING BACK. Please drop over there and join the circle.

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God’s Role In Tragedy

Rich Dixon, Author/Speaker

www.relentlessgrace.com

  

God does not allow evil and suffering to continue because He does not love us, or is in some way detached and removed from us. God takes our suffering so seriously, that he took it upon himself on the cross. Tim Keller

When I speak to a group about RELENTLESS GRACE, the questions are frequently penetrating and gut-wrenchingly honest. One question is asked more than any other. “Do you believe that God caused your injury?”

That’s tough to answer because I know what’s beneath the surface. A child gets cancer. A spouse dies in a senseless accident. Dreams and aspirations are destroyed indiscriminately, pain strikes needlessly, suffering endures pointlessly. And we want to know why. Why did this happen? Is it God’s will? How could He do such an awful thing, or how could He allow it?

I can’t speak definitively for God (which probably doesn’t surprise you) and I think there’s great danger in claiming to understand the details of God’s plan. We tend to create Him in our image and ascribe limited human motives to Him. We seek simplistic cause-and-effect explanations for complex circumstances. I’m convinced that His thoughts are bigger than our finite ability to reason.

However, my injury has prompted me to examine the question of God’s role in suffering and apparent tragedy. I’ve compiled an incomplete list of basic principles that cast some light for me into a troubling personal darkness.

• God’s purpose and plan are bigger than anything I can see or even imagine.

However, as it is written: “No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceived what God has prepared for those who love him.” [1 Corinthians 2:9]

• God loves me and never wants me to be afraid.

God is love … There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. [1 John 4:16(a),18(a)]

• God sent Jesus as the perfect sacrifice. No matter what my situation, I know I’ll spend eternity in relationship with Him.

For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. [John 3:16]

• I trust that God will never let go of me.

For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord. [Romans 8:38-39]

• I trust that God’s work in my life will ultimately come together for my good, even when I can’t see how or when that might be possible.

And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. [Romans 8:28]

• God made me along with the rest of His creation. His intent for me is for good.

God saw all that he had made, and it was very good. [Genesis 1:31(a)]

God loves me, wants only good for me, and will never let go of me. And even when circumstances are temporarily horrible, I know that He sacrificed His son to assure that I’ll be in His presence for all of eternity. This is the sum of my experience.

Childhood disease, random accidents, and indiscriminate suffering don’t seem to qualify under any reasonable definition of “good.” Neither do senseless, disabling injuries like mine. Therefore, my answer is that I don’t believe God causes these events. I do not believe that God decided one morning that this would be a good day to cause the suffering associated with a spinal cord injury and permanent paralysis.

Evil is present in our fallen world. Why does He allow it? I don’t know, because His purposes are bigger than my vision. But I know that He’ll always use even tragedy for good and that one day the pain will end and be replaced with endless joy.

That’s not an easy answer, but it’s all I’ve got. It’s enough for me.

I have been asked hundreds of times in my life why God allows tragedy and suffering. I have to confess that I really do not know the answer totally, even to my own satisfaction. I have to accept, by faith, that God is sovereign, and He is a God of love and mercy and compassion in the midst of suffering. Billy Graham

I hope you’ll take a look at my new e-book titled STICKS AND STONES: Finding Freedom In The Face Of Criticism. It’s a free PDF download. You can click the link in the sidebar or go to my resources page to download.

Did you enjoy this article? Please leave a comment, visit my website, and/or send me an email at rich@richdixon.net.

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