Rich Dixon, Author/Speaker

www.relentlessgrace.com

I read a story this morning that disturbs me.

A missionary had been a bed-ridden invalid for eight years. During that time she prayed for healing so she could do the work to which she’d been called. No response.

Finally she got tired of asking. Basically she said, “Okay, you decide if I’m going to be healed or not. I want You more than I want health anyway.”

Two weeks later the woman was out of bed and completely healed.

So you’re wondering: why am I disturbed by a wonderful story of miraculous healing?

I believe that God can, and does, heal. Often He accomplishes healing through medicine and the skill of a doctor’s hands; sometimes He heals in ways that are scientifically unexplainable.

I also believe that it’s good to relinquish our desire to control and determine acceptable outcomes. “Your will be done” is always the right thing.

So what’s the problem?

This story bothers me because it encourages a sort of subtle attempt to manipulate God. I’m sure that’s not the intended message, but I suspect many folks hear a formula for getting God to comply. If I say the right thing, adopt the right attitude, then God will finally bless me.

I know I can’t trick God into giving me what I want, but that doesn’t stop me from trying. I may fool everyone else with false humility or piety or whatever, and sometimes I mistake their affirmations as evidence that I’m doing it right. Silly me.

Sometimes I even fool myself, because I’m not very good at understanding their own motivations. So I may believe I’m doing the right things for the right reasons, but frequently I’m only good at self-deception.

But God’s not fooled. He knows my heart. He sees my true motives even when I don’t.

The LORD had said to Abram, “Leave your country, your people and your father’s household and go to the land I will show you. I will make you into a great nation and I will bless you; I will make your name great, and you will be a blessing.” [Genesis 12:1-2]

Abraham picked up his entire household, abandoned comfortable surroundings, and journeyed to a land he’d never seen. Why?

We’re tempted to make a connection between obedience and blessing. He did as God commanded, so God rewarded him. But that’s wrong.

Abram obeyed—period. He didn’t do it to get something from God. He couldn’t possibly imagine what God would grow from the seed of his actions. I’m sure he wondered and doubted.

In the years following my injury, I tried every imaginable strategy to get God to heal me. I’m sure He smiled and gently shook His head as I bargained and promised, but nothing changed.

Nearly ten years later, I finally reached the end. I simply couldn’t struggle any more, and I told God that this was His deal (like He didn’t already know). I basically said, “I got nothing. Whatever You want to make of this mess is up to you.”

And my injury didn’t change one bit. I didn’t walk away, and I’m still rolling around. No miracle cure, no happy ending—so apparently God said, “No.”

That’s not how I see it. When I finally let go and relinquished my desire to control and manipulate Him, He gave me something much more precious than physical strength. He showed me what had always been right in front of me.

He showed me the cross and His boundless love. Rather than giving me what I wanted, He provided what I needed.

Let go and let God …

Is it really that simple?

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My Child, Your Sins Are Forgiven

Joni

Rich Dixon, Author/Speaker

www.relentlessgrace.com

When Jesus returned to Capernaum several days later, the news spread quickly that he was back home. Soon the house where he was staying was so packed with visitors that there was no more room, even outside the door. While he was preaching God’s word to them, four men arrived carrying a paralyzed man on a mat. They couldn’t bring him to Jesus because of the crowd, so they dug a hole through the roof above his head. Then they lowered the man on his mat, right down in front of Jesus. Seeing their faith, Jesus said to the paralyzed man, “My child, your sins are forgiven.” [Mark 2:1-5]

Do you believe God heals?

Sometimes it seems that we relegate healing to biblical times, as though miracles don’t still happen. I don’t believe that’s true.

Two weeks ago our church did a “service of healing.” The pastor talked about the importance of acknowledging the reality of pain, disease, and other worldly adversities faced by many among us. He stressed God’s power to heal and the mystery of why it doesn’t always happen. There was an opportunity for people to request prayers for specific healing.

Even though I didn’t respond, a man came and stood quietly beside me. He gently placed a hand on my shoulder—I’m sure he prayed silently for my injury to be healed. After a few moments he leaned down and whispered, “I believe God can heal your injury.”

I’m grateful for his prayer and for his concern. I also believe God can heal my injury.

Last week, our pastor referred to that service and once again discussed the mystery of healing. I’m sure it’s just my imagination, but it felt like he looked at me when he said, “Some of our hurts weren’t healed last week.”

I wondered about the guy who placed his hand on my shoulder. Did he believe his prayer hadn’t been answered, that God for some reason chose not to heal me?

Immediately following my accident I spent a lot of time begging for that healing, wondering why it didn’t happen, and listening to some pretty diverse (and bizarre) explanations for my failure to be healed. After a lot of thought and introspection, I reached this conclusion:

God has in fact healed me. In every way that matters, I’m whole and free.

In Mark 2, some men bring their paralyzed friend to Jesus. Their path is blocked by the crowd, so they take some rather drastic steps to get Jesus’ attention. Seeing their extraordinary faith and effort, Jesus looks at the paralyzed man and says, “My child, your sins are forgiven.”

Can’t you imagine their response? Scripture doesn’t record their thoughts, but I’m sure they wanted to say, “Excuse me, but we didn’t carry our friend all this way, fight through the crowd, and cut a hole in the roof to get his sins forgiven. We want him healed.”

Jesus knew why they were there. He knew they wanted their friend to walk. But He also knew that wasn’t what really mattered. Jesus gave the man something far more precious than a healed body—He gave, for free, a healed soul.

We read the rest of the story, how Jesus went on to provide physical healing, and we celebrate a miracle. Then we wonder why Jesus doesn’t reward our faith, why He lets us struggle and suffer.

We’re quick to condemn the religious leaders who watched Jesus that night, but at least they really understood what was happening. Physical healing wasn’t what impressed and outraged them—they’d seen that before. They knew that the real miracle, the one that mattered, was the forgiveness of sins. Only God can do that.

I don’t intend to discount the reality of worldly pain and struggle. God cares about our needs and concerns, and we should pray for His miraculous healing power. I do.

But we spend far too much time trying to explain why He chooses to heal some times and not others, why He sometimes answers, “No.” It’s not that those aren’t important issues; they are not the central issue.

Every single person who follows Jesus is healed. Every believer will spend eternity in fellowship with God. That’s the central issue—that’s what matters.

I don’t know why God chooses to leave me in a wheelchair. But I sure hope the man who prayed for my healing knows that his prayers were answered. God did not say, “No.”

We’re not human beings on a spiritual journey. We’re spiritual beings on a human journey. Steven Covey

My essence, and yours, is spirit. Spiritually, because of Jesus’ sacrificial love, we’re whole and healthy and free.

Do you ever get caught up in worldly concerns and lose sight of the eternal blessing of unmerited forgiveness?

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Four Questions For Broken People

Where’s God When I Need Him?

Asking The Right Questions

Rich Dixon, Author/Speaker

“Nobody could possibly understand how it feels.”

“If people knew what I really think, they wouldn’t want to be near me.”

“I’m sure I’m the only person who feels like this.”

“I can’t let anyone know what I’ve done. They’d despise me.”

Have you ever said, or thought, any of these? I have.

My guess is that most of us have feelings, thoughts, or behaviors we’re embarrassed about. We hide them because we’re sure others would reject us if they knew the horrible evil that lurks just beneath the surface.

We’ve been talking about “Stories Worth Telling.” So far we’ve looked at three principles:

• Tell the truth
• Tell a story of encouragement and hope
• Ask permission by establishing relationship

Today I want to explore an unpleasant reality:

TELLING YOUR STORY INVOLVES RISK

I wish story-telling was safer. I wish it was as easy as, “Just get it out there and people will understand.”

That’s not how it works.

Telling the real story means admitting your flaws and secrets. It means letting down the mask of heroism and propriety, admitting the fears, and confessing the failures. It’s just about the scariest thing we can ever do. And it’s a fact that some people won’t accept you once they learn about the warts.

I love listing my hand cycling successes. It’s great to tell others about writing a book, overcoming a devastating injury, and finding joy and meaning in difficult circumstances.

It’s not so much fun to admit that for a long time I wanted to give up and die. I’m ashamed of the hurt I caused so many people. I’d like to leave out the terrible decisions and shameful behaviors. I fear that listeners will be repulsed by my failures, judge me for my mistakes, and turn off the entire message.

I’m tempted to edit the story, remove the unpleasant realities, and re-cast myself in a more favorable role. I’d rather appear just a bit less–uhhh—despicable.

We’ve all heard those kinds of stories, the ones where tragedy just magically disappears and the victim of evil overcomes through heroic perfection. Stories like that make great movies, but they’re lies.

A story worth telling has to be real. Encouragement, the kind that helps people keep going when there’s nothing left, can’t be faked. There’s no hope in a happily-ever-after fairy tale.

Edit out the bad stuff and make the main character into a storybook hero and you get a schmaltzy made-for-TV special. Everyone knows it’s not real, but we smile because we get to keep the masks in place.

The people who desperately need to hear an authentic story of hope and love and possibility will appreciate the risk you take to tell it. The rest will either condemn you or turn you into a hero.

That’s the risk of a story worth telling.

Have you ever hesitated to tell your story because of how “they” would react?

Related articles:

Relationship: Stories Worth Telling Part 3

Hope: Stories Worth Telling Part 2

My Pain’s Worse Than Yours

Truth: Stories Worth Telling Part 1

Grace And Truth

Rich Dixon, Author/Speaker

Do you think your story is worth telling?

I believe the answer is emphatically “Yes!”

God tells us about Himself through stories. Most of the Bible is stories about real people in real circumstances who struggled and failed and got it wrong more than they got it right. God’s own story comes to us through tales of people and their relationships. (How Important Is Right Theology?)

I’m thinking there’s a message there, that God’s choice to reveal Himself through human stories might be telling us about the best way to tell others about Him. Maybe people learn best about God through the stories of His people.

I operate from the premise that a story is worth telling if it brings people closer to Jesus. In a non-church setting it’s worthwhile if it helps listeners embrace His principles even if no religious terminology is involved. I can talk about love, respect, and forgiveness in any context.

If I’ve learned anything through talking to people about the story of Relentless Grace, it’s that “everyone has a story.” And I believe those stories are worth telling, if …

I’d like to spend a few posts talking about the “if,” because I think we can tell our stories in ways that are more or less helpful to others.

Today’s focus:

TELL THE TRUTH

A story that’s a lie won’t be helpful to anyone. That might seem sort of obvious, but apparently it’s not. I’ve heard, and told, stories that include intentional and accidental untruths.

Many Christians seem to believe that they can only talk about the victories, the good stuff, and the instances in which things turned out just right. They fail to acknowledge the struggles, failures, and weaknesses. These folks seem intent on portraying life as an endless progression of roses and sunshine.

Even tragedies are quickly transformed into celebrations. These stories are Hollywood movies—in one scene a horrific loss occurs, and in the next scene everyone’s happy. Injuries and illness miraculously disappear, grief and pain are compressed into a few seconds, and then the violins reach a happily-ever-after crescendo.

No one benefits from stories that relate this sort of impossibly false perfection. Reality includes conflict, pain, and doubt. Look at the heroes of the Bible—God didn’t tell us only their triumphs. In fact, we often learn more from the struggles of people like King David.

I’m not suggesting that we ought to manufacture problems, because the real ones are all to plentiful. But you do no one, including yourself, any favors by hiding behind a freshly scrubbed, Sunday morning façade.

A more subtle deception happens through an unintended choice of words. An example: “I’m thankful for the experience of cancer and chemotherapy.”

I don’t believe that. I’ve watched both of my parents and my best friend struggle through horrible deaths from cancer. I don’t believe anyone is thankful for that kind of pain. I’m certainly not grateful for the “opportunity” to watch their suffering, just as I’m not thankful for the pain and loss associated with my injury.

I am, however, abundantly grateful for the many things God has taught me through those experiences. I do not believe my injury was necessary for me to learn, but I believe God works for good even within tragedy (Romans 8:28)

My principle for story-telling is Grace And Truth (John 1:14). If you tell the truth with grace and love, then I believe you take a step toward a story worth telling.

What’s your take? Have you found that telling your true story helps others?

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Grace And Truth

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The Perfect Slogan

Rich Dixon, Author/Speaker

Therefore, since we have a great high priest who has gone through the heavens, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold firmly to the faith we profess. For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet was without sin. Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need. [Hebrews 4:14-16]

What’s the best way to convince someone to listen to you?

One great strategy is to arouse enough curiosity to elicit a question. By answering a question, you’re helping, offing desired information. Skilled communicators know how to create a sense of shared problem-solving that puts everyone on the same side of the issue.

Yesterday I wrote about this great t-shirt. (The Perfect Slogan)

Bob, who told me about ME TOO, said it’s a great conversation starter. People look confused and ask, “ME TOO … what?” He answers with a ten-second statement about his faith in Jesus.

I’ve been thinking about Jesus and ME TOO. It’s almost like He understood the power of such a simple notion.

I have a hard time imagining that God truly identifies with me, because I surely can’t identify with Him. There’s quite a gap between little old me and the Creator of the universe. I know He loves me, but the relationship is impossibly one sided. He brings everything to the table—I Got Nothing. The gap could never be bridged, at least by any human act.

So God reached across the gap. Jesus, fully God, left the glory of heaven and crossed an un-crossable divide. And because of His sacrifice, it’s like He put on this silly t-shirt.

“Jesus, sometimes I wonder why I feel so far from God.”

“ME TOO.”

“And sometimes I’m afraid of what’s in front of me.”

“ME TOO.”

“I get tempted to take shortcuts.”

“ME TOO.”

“And I feel lonely when my friends don’t show up.”

“ME TOO.”

“And when things get really bad, I just want God to make it all better.”

“ME TOO.”

God found the most improbable way of letting me know He understands. He sacrificed His Son, sent Him to walk in my shoes, so I could know we’re on the same side.

Whenever I imagine a distant, infinite God who cannot possibly know what it’s like to be me, I think about what one of my friends calls “Jesus in a t-shirt and tennis shoes.”

Now I have an even better picture. His t-shirt says ME TOO.

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The Perfect Slogan

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How To Discover Gratitude

Labels And Super Glue

Rich Dixon, Author/Speaker

Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus. [1 Thessalonians 5:16-18]

Ever had one of those days?

Well, I’ve already had one today, and it’s only 9:30 am.

Nothing catastrophic; my spinal cord injury decided to remind me of its ability to disrupt plans and make even the simplest tasks rather unpleasant. But I got past the nastiness, everything’s okay, and hopefully the injury’s done with finding ways to assert itself.—though it IS only 9:30.

So I’m sitting at the keyboard, but I don’t really want to work. Don’t want to write, plan, or even return emails—I’m frustrated that this happened, that I had to skip my ride this morning, that the day isn’t unfolding as I’d envisioned. My feelings tell me that I’d be perfectly justified if I just blew off the rest of this miserable day.

This morning’s events are especially poignant because I’ve been writing this week about maintaining an abundance mentality and an attitude of gratitude. (How To Discover Gratitude, How To Relate In Abundance)

It’s almost as though the enemy says, “Okay, you think it’s a world of abundance with lots of stuff for which you’re thankful. Well, let’s see how thankful you’re feeling after THIS.”

And you know what? I’m NOT thankful for the way this morning unfolded. I don’t like the discomfort and embarrassment and loss of control over my situation.

I almost fell into the trap.

Thankful isn’t a feeling. Gratitude isn’t an emotion. God doesn’t expect me to fake it, to pretend that I welcome the events that greeted me this morning. The bible doesn’t ask me to say I’m thankful for pain and sadness and grief. Read this passage—what’s the key word?

Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus. [1 Thessalonians 5:16-18]

I believe the important word is “in.” It doesn’t say “give thanks FOR all circumstances.” So while I’m emphatically not feeling thankful for the way my day started, I can still choose gratitude.

I am thankful for:

• The simple fact that I got past an episode that likely would have landed me in the emergency room a few years ago.
• The short ride I was able to do with Monte once things calmed down. I missed my normal workout, but we got outside and enjoyed the cool weather. He got to sniff around and trot three or four miles; I got to calm down and get some perspective.
• A reminder of the abundant blessings that remain. All of the good things I noticed yesterday (How To Discover Gratitude) didn’t disappear just because I experienced a setback.
• The will to write this article, even though I don’t feel like doing it. And, in fact, I actually feel better than I did when I began. I believe that’s a blessing from the Spirit, a result of believing and acting in abundance and gratitude even when I feel something different.

Mostly, though, I’m grateful for new beginnings.

I’m thankful that I’m not a product of my past, that the events of this morning don’t define the rest of my day unless I choose to allow it. I’m grateful that Jesus wiped the slate clean, and that I get to start over.

My friend Dick Foth was once asked to summarize the gospel in non-church language. I love his response:

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

I’m grateful for that.

Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me—put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you.

I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do everything through him who gives me strength. [Philippians 4:8-9, 11-13]

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I Got Nothing

Rich Dixon, Author/Speaker

“And no one pours new wine into old wineskins. If he does, the new wine will burst the skins, the wine will run out and the wineskins will be ruined. No, new wine must be poured into new wineskins.” [Luke 5: 37-38]

Have you ever wanted to start over?

I sure have, lots of times, and I’m betting that I’m not alone. I suspect that most of us, at one time or another, have wished we could just hit the RESET key.

That’s a great blessing of following Jesus. Through Him, God offers a new beginning. Each day, each hour, each moment is an opportunity to start over. I’m not a prisoner of my past, my genetics, or my circumstances. I can change. But there’s a funny little catch.

If you want to change, you have to change.

That may sound like the silliest statement you’ve ever heard, but think about it for a moment. How often have you encountered someone (maybe yourself?) who wants things to be different, but without really changing anything?

• Want to lose weight? Sure. Okay, but you have to eat differently. Yeah, but I really like ice cream and chocolate.
• Want to break that addiction? Absolutely. Well, you may need to change your surroundings, stop going certain places or hanging out with certain people. Yeah, but they’re my friends!
• Want others to respond differently to you? Yeah. Then let’s change some of the behaviors that turn people away. But I can’t do that—it’s just the way I am.
• Want to learn and grow? Certainly. Good—now let go of those ideas and prejudices that you’ve allowed to define you. Seriously—you mean I have to think differently, maybe even admit that I was wrong? (Hills Worth Fighting For)
• Want to follow Jesus? Of course. So, love your enemies. Yeah, but surely you don’t mean I have to love THOSE people, right?

I’d guess that most of us see ourselves somewhere in this kind of internal conversation. Why can’t THEY change? Why does it have to work this way? Why do I have to give up stuff I like?

Why can’t I change without changing?

Jesus knew about this desire for new outcomes from old habits.

He told them this parable: “No one tears a patch from a new garment and sews it on an old one. If he does, he will have torn the new garment, and the patch from the new will not match the old.” [Luke 5: 36]

Jesus brought a new covenant, a fresh start, and freedom from the oppressive rules and laws that often separate people from God. He offered new wine and fresh, clean clothing.

And can’t you just hear the response?

But why should I throw away the comfortable, familiar old jeans? I know they’re pretty worn, but can’t we use your new garment to sort of fill in the holes? You don’t really want us to just toss them out, do you?

Of course we want new results … but why do we have to change?

The more I learn of Jesus, the more I realize the truly radical nature of His message. He never intended to fix the broken pieces with a little super glue while leaving things mostly intact..

Jesus came to declare something entirely fresh and completely new. He didn’t intend to patch us, but to totally transform us. As Paul writes in 2 Corinthians 5:17, those who follow Jesus are “a new creation.”

This new creation, this fresh start, is yours and mine for the taking. No requirements, no preconditions, no qualifications. You claim it and it’s yours.

But you can’t keep the old stuff. The comfortable political convictions, the convenient divisiveness that lets you associate with the “right” people and avoid the “wrong” folks, the familiar traditions—they all have to go. You can’t change without changing.

Jesus isn’t a patch for us to justify retaining our preferences, comforts, and desires, the old ways to which we’d really like to cling if we could just mend the results a bit.

He’s an entirely new Way.

Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come! [2 Corinthians 5:17]

What’s a place in your life in which you’ve tried to change without changing?

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The Butterfly Circus

Rich Dixon, Author/Speaker

Someone recently posed an interesting question about questions. He asked, “What questions hinder you from a complete and full relationship with the Lord?”

As a teacher I always maintained that sincere, authentic questions enhance any interaction. I welcome questions because they’re a window that allows me to see what the other person’s thinking. I was surprised by the suggestion that questions might get in the way of my relationship with God.

Then he observed that the first time Satan spoke, it was in the form of a question. He described a sermon centered on the notion that the enemy uses questions in our life to tempt us into fear, doubt, or anything that would hinder us from living our life for the Lord.

Now the serpent was more crafty than any of the wild animals the LORD God had made. He said to the woman, “Did God really say, ‘You must not eat from any tree in the garden’?”

The woman said to the serpent, “We may eat fruit from the trees in the garden, but God did say, ‘You must not eat fruit from the tree that is in the middle of the garden, and you must not touch it, or you will die.’ ”

“You will not surely die,” the serpent said to the woman. “For God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.” [Genesis 3:1-5]

Was the serpent asking a question? I’d say that he really made a statement in the form of a question to disguise his claim that they couldn’t trust God’s motives. If the question was sincere, the conversation would have ended when the woman verified God’s words.

Jesus And Questions

Jesus welcomed authentic questions. In Matthew 9 He explains why He chooses to eat with sinners and why His disciples didn’t fast.

However, He wasn’t fooled by insincere questions. In Matthew 21:(21-28) some Pharisees asked Jesus to explain the source of His authority. Seeing the deceit in their hearts, He answered their question with one of His own that exposed their fear.

I said earlier that “sincere, authentic questions” enhance an interaction. In my mind, such questions reveal an open desire to understand, to obtain information, to grow. I believe God welcomes those inquiries.

Responding To Questions

As a teacher, my students understood that every question wouldn’t receive a direct answer. I always told my students that I wasn’t afraid to say, “I don’t know but let’s try to find out.” If the student responded with “That’s okay, don’t bother” then I knew he didn’t want to know badly enough to dig for an answer.

I also reserved the right to reply, “You’re just not in a place to understand that yet” to a question from an algebra student that required calculus to explain.

For the most part my students learned to trust my judgment. They believed I wouldn’t duck legitimate questions, so they accepted “Wait a while,” when that was the best reply.

I think God answers our questions this way. If we really want to know and are willing to study and pray, He’ll help us uncover understanding that’s within our capacity. When we seek an answer that’s simply beyond human understanding, He asks us to wait and trust Him.

Occasionally we want answers we simply can’t understand even if they appeared. When a sixth grader wants to know why the formula for a circle’s circumference is “pi times diameter,” there’s no point is providing a derivation that’s beyond his experience. In a classroom based on trust, “Wait” is enough.

Same thing with God.

Some folks say that God tells us what He wants us to know and we have to trust Him for the rest. I tend to think that He tells us all we’re capable of knowing and understanding. I don’t think He withholds knowledge simply because He can, but because some things are beyond comprehension from human perspective. So I think we ask and probe as far as we can, and trust Him for the rest.

Problems With Questions

I suspect that questions get in the way in a couple of situations:

They’re not really questions. Kids often ask, “Why do I need to know this?” Sometimes it’s a sincere desire to make sense, to understand how this topic fits into the big picture. Often it’s a complaint that this work is difficult and I’d rather be outside. The “question” is actually a diversion, an effort to side-track the conversation.

In Genesis 3:1 the serpent used a question to plant the seed of doubt. We must always discern whether questions from others, or in our own hearts, are really attempts to remove focus from God.

The question includes a demand for an “acceptable” answer. It’s simply a fact that some inquiries lead to surprising, unpleasant, or downright painful conclusions. If it’s truly a quest for understanding, you can’t decide in advance what constitutes a suitable resolution.

You must also be willing to accept “I don’t know” as the response.

This happens a lot when we invoke God to win political or social debates. We pre-determine the agenda, then become pick-n-choosers who defeat the enemy with carefully-chosen arrows of scripture. Be careful the next time you hear, “What does God think about (insert policy or moral issue here).”

If you don’t want the answer, you shouldn’t ask the question.

Relationships

Questions are essential to growth and depth of interaction any transparent relationship. Since God created me to be in eternal relationship with Him, I can’t imagine that He’s offended by my questions. Like a wise teacher, I’m sure there are times when He chuckles and shakes His head at my lack of vision. I can hear Him saying, “If you could only see it from my point of view.”

He probably feels like the father of a two-year-old who patiently endures and endless litany of “Why, Daddy?” But like that human father, I don’t think He wants me to stop asking.

I believe He wants me to think and learn and ask and grow to my potential. I think He wants me to inquire fearlessly and openly.

And when I just don’t get it, He wants me to fall into His love and trust Him for the rest.

Are there any places where questions get in the way of your relationship with God?

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Compass Or Map?

“God is love,” (1 John 4:8) speaks of God’s character. It tells us he created and designed us to love and be loved. The most important factor in our journey is our love relationship with God. We cannot hide from God, even though we may have tried, nor can we escape him. We must surrender to experience a wholehearted truth-filled, loving relationship with God. In return for our surrender, we receive unconditional love and eternal life through Jesus.

We may not realize it, but we all yearn to be loved and accepted. We can feel this love from the bottom of our hearts—we are all free to live a life full of joy and love. This freedom means no more bondage to the lies of Satan. It means freedom from the past. It means the liberty to be all Christ designed us to be. That’s the freedom Jesus gives us. The truth will set you free. When we accept the truth about who Jesus is, and trust him as our Savior, his truth sets us free to be who and what we are designed to be.

When we have faith enough to call out to God in our despair, he unites our hearts to his and personal renewal begins.

I now realize God loves me. In fact, He always has. It was me who didn’t love me. When I accepted God’s love during the lowest season of my life, I knew God was right there beside me. I recognized his warm gentle embrace while a quiet calm encompassed my entire being. I could feel new life reviving my broken heart. Yes, I was back in God’s arms.

Through his Spirit in our inner being, Christ dwells in our hearts. His Holy Spirit gives us a new desire to love and be loved.

Whether our faith is weak or strong, God loves us. God walked with us during the darkest moments in our pasts. He walks with us now. He walks with us throughout eternity.

Who we are and what we believe matters to God. It matters so much that his only son, Jesus, died on the cross to free us to love God and accept his love for us. As we reflect on the truth and freedom in this section, let’s remember that Christ chose us before the foundation of the world to be holy and without blame before him. He desires to love us as we’ve never been loved in our lives. He desires to heal us and make us holy before him.

Your work-in-progress sister in Christ,

Jan

Rich Dixon, Author/Speaker

Therefore, I urge you, brothers, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God—this is your spiritual act of worship. Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will. [Romans 12:1-2]

Jon Swanson makes me think.

Okay, I guess he doesn’t really MAKE me think. But he keeps writing stuff like What Counts As Church? that reminds me I’m not the center of the universe. Since that’s a novel idea for me, his words challenge me to look at old ideas in new ways. Aside from the brain cramps, I guess it’s a good thing.

After reading What Counts As Church? I met a friend for coffee at my church, except I realized that we were really meeting in the building where my formal church usually gathers—because church isn’t a building. While we were talking our worship pastor, Terry Kelley, walked by.

Terry’s a great guy, a fabulous musician with a big heart for God. But I found myself thinking that “worship pastor” is sort of an odd title. If he leads worship, what do other pastors do? Shouldn’t every pastor be a worship pastor?

Many churches, including mine, designate the music as “worship” time. I guess that means we’re not doing worship when we give or listen to the message or greet our neighbors?

I know that’s not the intent, but words matter because they guide our thoughts. When we talk about the church as a building we easily shift to thinking that way, and suddenly church becomes a place or an organization rather than people and relationships.

Same thing with “worship.” If we’re not careful, we confine it to a box that’s only open when there’s music and singing and maybe hands raised. That’s the worship time, and when it’s over we close the box. We’re done with worship—check that off the list and get on to other stuff.

This morning I cycled along the Cache la Poudre River. It’s one of my regular workout routes, but I’m reminded every time of the story in Relentless Grace about The River. I remember that God is bigger than my small perspective, that He’s in control, and that the river flows exactly as He intends. I don’t sing (thankfully for others on the path) but I believe those moments are acts of worship.

Or maybe they’re prayer instead of worship—sometimes I get them confused. This was workout time, not worship time or prayer time.

See how our insistence on categorizing our interactions with God gets in the way of our interactions with God? Does it really matter if it’s called prayer or worship or sitting by the river with God or riding a hand cycle while I talk to God?

Like most things, I mess this up. I get all focused on whatever I’m doing, like this is “writing time” and later will be “throw the tennis ball for Monte” time. I forget that it’s ALL worship time.

That’s why I need guys like Jon to remind me to think.

Do you ever divide up your life, without thinking, and turn prayer and worship into categories rather than ways of living?

I, John, am the one who heard and saw these things. And when I had heard and seen them, I fell down to worship at the feet of the angel who had been showing them to me. But he said to me, “Do not do it! I am a fellow servant with you and with your brothers the prophets and of all who keep the words of this book. Worship God!” [Revelation 22:8-9]

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