Abide in Christ

What tasks do you have set before you today? Perhaps you have to make an important presentation at work, the outcome of which will determine your future in the company. Or maybe you need to spend the day going through your finances to see just how you will pay those past due bills. It may be that you have to reach out to a friend or loved one to have a long and hard conversation you’ve put off for far too long. Whatever you have to face today, where are you placing your hope? What source of strength and help are you drawing from as you face that challenge? Where are you seeking life?

One of my favorite New Testament verses comes from Jesus’s Upper Room Discourse with the disciples on the night before he was betrayed. In John 15: 5, Jesus tells the disciples, “I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing.”

Nothing. Nada. Zero.

Not a single thing.

As believers, we often mentally ascent to this truth, but fail to live it out in our daily lives. Too often, we attempt to face challenges in our own strength and wisdom. We try to create order out of the chaos of our days without considering the One who first spoke everything into existence. We rush headfirst into our problems without stopping to pray. We trust in our own efforts and plans. We look to our own wisdom to guide us rather than the wisdom of Christ.

And we expect to bear fruit all on our own.

But in John 15, Jesus tells us that there is nothing in us that can produce good fruit. We are incapable of doing any good apart from our union with Christ. As Ephesians 2 tells us, we were once dead in our trespasses and sins; dead people can’t do anything. We need to be brought back to life. The Spirit breathed in us the breath of life so we could respond to Christ by faith and receive forgiveness of our sins. Now we are united to him. All that he has done is ours. All that he has is ours. All that he is has now become ours.

This metaphor of the vine and branches speaks to this union. Christ is the vine out of which we receive all nourishment. He is the source and wellspring of our strength. He is wisdom incarnate. As John Calvin wrote, “But Christ dwells principally on this, that the vital sap -- that is, all life and strength -- proceeds from himself alone. Hence it follows, that the nature of man is unfruitful and destitute of everything good; because no man has the nature of a vine, till he be implanted in him. But this is given to the elect alone by special grace. So then, the Father is the first Author of all blessings, who plants us with his hand; but the commencement of life is in Christ, since we begin to take root in him. When he calls himself the true vine the meaning is, I am truly the vine, and therefore men toil to no purpose in seeking strength anywhere else, for from none will useful fruit proceed but from the branches which shall be produced by me.”

And so we must abide in Christ. We must depend upon him for all things. We must draw our resources from him. We must rest in Christ’s perfect life and sacrificial death alone to save us, not in anything we have done. We must commune with him through his word, prayer, worship, and the sacraments. We must look to him for wisdom.

Then we will bear fruit.

When we find ourselves facing a challenge or difficulty in our day, or even experiencing the blessings of God’s hand, we have to remind ourselves that all is of grace. Apart from our union with Christ, we can do nothing. The more we remember and live out this truth, the more we’ll see evidence of his fruit-bearing work in our lives.

On Kuyper, Calvinism, and Art

I consider myself a relatively creative person. I played the flute for many years. I enjoy writing poetry. I love finding new uses for old things.

But I can’t draw to save my life.

I’ve admired the talent of artists who portray what they see onto paper or canvas with skill and accuracy. Both of my children took a drawing class for several years and I was amazed at what they achieved. Even today, my youngest will print out images from the computer to use as inspiration for his drawings. I have a dear friend who expresses her love for Christ in beautiful encaustic works.

I’ve long told myself that one day, I will take an art class.

Recently, I read Kuyper’s Lectures on Calvinism. These lectures were delivered to students at Princeton Seminary in 1898. In these lectures, Abraham Kuyper spoke on the influence of Calvinism on all aspects of life, from government to science, religion to the arts. What stands out to me the most from his lecture on the arts, is that for a Reformed believer, artistic expression is a natural overflow of our theology.

“But if you confess that the world once was beautiful, but by the curse has become undone, and by a final catastrophe is to pass to its full state of glory, excelling even the beautiful paradise, then art has the mystical task of reminding us in its productions of the beautiful that was lost and of anticipating its perfect coming luster..Calvinism honored art as a gift of the Holy Ghost and as a consolation in our present life, enabling us to discover in and behind this sinful life a richer and more glorious background...arts points out to the Calvinist both the still visible lines of the original plan, and what is even more, the splendid restoration by which the supreme Artist and master Builder will one day renew and enhance even the beauty of his original creation.” (p. 139-140).

The artist images the first Artist, the one who crafted all things. When we paint, draw, sculpt, or craft, we reflect the One who made us. And in doing so, we bring him glory. But even more, the arts can be a spiritual exercise, a way to express what God is doing in us, in this world, and in the world to come. Like music, artistic expression speaks to the human heart in a unique language. It goes beneath the surface, to our very heart and speaks to our emotions: our longings and hopes, our heartaches and sorrows, our dreams and aspirations. It speaks to the sorrow in all of us of a world fallen and broken from sin and to the hope we have in seeing all things made new.

You might say that Kuyper and Calvin have inspired me. As a result, I decided to take an art class this summer. Whatever comes of it, my prayer is that I what I learn will help me express my love for Christ. I hope to gain skills to sketch or paint what I see in the world around me. And to live out my theology through creative expression. As Kuyper said, “If a common man, to whom the world pays no special attention, is valued and even chosen by God as one of his elect, this must lead the artist also to find a motive for his artistic studies in what is common and of everyday occurrence, to pay attention to the emotions and the issues of the human heart in it, to grasp with his artistic instinct their ideal impulse, and lastly, by his pencil to interpret for the world at large the precious discovery he has made.” (p. 150)

A Prayer for Worried Moms

I am a worrier. I worry about big things and little things. I worry about things that happened in the past and things that may or may not happen in the future. I ruminate, mull over, and dwell on things, considering all the possible scenarios and outcomes.

And I did all of this before I became a mom. Can you imagine how much my worry intensified after motherhood?

In my new book, Sufficient Hope: Gospel Meditations and Prayers for Moms, I have a chapter focused on worry and how the gospel speaks to our worry as moms.

Today I want to share a prayer from that chapter. Why a prayer? Because the Bible teaches us to pray when we are worried. It teaches us to bring all our cares and concerns to the throne of grace where our Father in Heaven listens to us. He hears our cries and meets us in our need. Sometimes he removes the things that worry us; other times he uses those worrisome circumstances to show us more of his grace for us in Christ. We have a good Father who has made us his children through the sacrifice of his Son. We can trust him with all our cares.

Moms who worry, here is a prayer for your heart.

A Gospel Prayer for the Worried Mom’s Heart

Dear Father in heaven,

I come before you today with a heart filled with worry. I worry about my children. I worry about their future. I worry about harm coming to them. I worry about failing them as a mom. I worry about so many things. I find myself consumed by my worries. They keep me up at night, and I think about them all during the day.

So I come to you today because you are my Maker and Creator. You know my frame, my weaknesses, and my frailties. You know my inward thoughts. You know my sin. You know when a sparrow falls from the sky and know the number of hairs on my head. You know all things, and you also rule over all things. You are the King of Kings— the ruler of the universe. You sustain all things, and by your word everything is held together.

But you are not a distant ruler; you are my Abba—my Father. Through Christ, I have been adopted into your family. I have the privilege of coming before you, and you hear me. Because you are my Father, you don’t want me to worry. I know that such worry is sinful because it keeps my heart distracted and turned from you. Forgive me for worrying. Forgive me for looking to my worries rather than seeking you. Forgive me for all the ways that I seek to control the things I worry about. Forgive me for trying to find peace in anything apart from you.

I know that you love me as much as you love your Son, Jesus. Help me to remember that and dwell on it. Help me to see just how much you love and provide for me—so much so that you gave me your Son. Help me to look at and truly see all the ways that you watch over and care for me and my family. Help me to rejoice in that and to give you thanks.

Hear my prayer today and all the cares that are on my heart. I entrust them into your hands, knowing that you will do what is good and right and best, for you are a good Father. Take my worries and give me your peace in return.

Because of Jesus I pray. Amen.

Note: This prayer is an excerpt from my new book, Sufficient Hope: Gospel Meditations and Prayers for Moms.

Want to learn more about my new book? I was on the Help + Hope Project Podcast yesterday, talking with Christine Chappell about the book. Click here to listen.

For the Mom Who Feels Guilty

My youngest son was diagnosed with asthma at six weeks old. When he was in preschool, constant sickness exacerbated his condition. We were vigilant with his breathing treatments. I did all I could to prevent him from being sick, but short of placing him in a protective bubble, I couldn’t keep him from catching one thing after another. The doctors ran tests and tried different medications. One medication they tried was specifically for asthma prevention.

A month or so went by, and my son grew more and more irritable. Sad. Almost depressed. We talked with him and prayed with him. We tried to figure out what was bothering him. He cried about everything. It hurt to see him so sad, but we couldn’t determine what was bothering him. He didn’t even know.

And then I remembered the new medication. I did some research and learned that depression was a potential side effect. I immediately called the doctor and discontinued it.

Mommy Guilt

I still remember the mommy guilt I felt. My son was hurting, and I didn’t know how to help him. When I realized a medication was to blame, I felt guilty that I hadn’t read the side effects before I gave it to him. I felt guilty that it had taken me so long to figure out the source of his sadness. I felt guilty that he had suffered.

That’s not the only time I’ve felt that way. I’ve often felt like I’ve let my children down by not being the mom they needed me to be. I’ve felt angry at myself for missing things I should have caught. I’ve bemoaned my weaknesses and insufficiencies in not providing for or meeting my children’s needs at all times and in all places.

Mommy guilt. At some point in motherhood, we all will experience it. Your child may have an illness you were slow to detect. Your son might have a learning problem for years before you realize it. Your daughter might complain about other kids picking on her and you disregard it until she comes home in tears and afraid to go to school. Whatever the circumstances, we know that feeling of guilt when our children are hurt. We feel responsible. We can’t stop thinking of how bad the situation could have been. We vow to be more vigilant in the future.

Sometimes, if motherhood were a job, we would likely fire ourselves…

To read the rest of this modified excerpt from my new book, Sufficient Hope, visit Revive Our Hearts, where they are hosting a giveaway. Be sure to stop by and enter!

Life in the Desert

I remember my first trip to southern California many years ago. We visited some friends who lived out in the desert. I said to my husband, “I could never live here. There’s no life anywhere.”

Having grown up in the Mid-Atlantic, and then spent twenty years in the tropics of South Florida, the desert is foreign to me. I love trees and flowers and waterfalls and all things nature. The desert seems harsh and lifeless.

In many ways it is, but in many ways it’s not.

Since that first trip to California, I’ve homeschooled my children. One year, we did a unit on eco-systems and there we learned about all the life that exists in the desert. There are plants and animals and important microorganisms. Flowers too.

We were in Utah last week and explored the desert where I saw this life up close. As we hiked, I stopped to take photos of flowers popping up amidst the rocks and sand. The prickly pear cacti were in bloom; I spotted yellow, pink, and red blossoms. There were small trees whose trunks were twisted at odd angles. Lizards, chipmunks, and birds appeared from time to time. The rust colored rock formations had a beauty all their own, gleaming in the sun with ripples of green, purple, and black laced throughout.

Indeed, there is life in the desert.

It’s no coincidence that I read the book of Numbers in the weeks prior to our trip. The book of Numbers chronicles the Israelites’ journey through the desert wilderness. They too thought there was no life found in the desert. They searched for life but kept missing it. They grumbled and complained, thinking things were better in slavery back in Egypt.

“Now the rabble that was among them had a strong craving. And the people of Israel also wept again and said, “Oh that we had meat to eat! We remember the fish we ate in Egypt that cost nothing, the cucumbers, the melons, the leeks, the onions, and the garlic. But now our strength is dried up, and there is nothing at all but this manna to look at” (Numbers 11:4-6).

Yet all the while, Life was with them every step of the way:

“On the day that the tabernacle was set up, the cloud covered the tabernacle, the tent of the testimony. And at evening it was over the tabernacle like the appearance of fire until morning. So it was always: the cloud covered it by day and the appearance of fire by night.” (Numbers 9:15-16).

They refused to see the Life right in front of them. They refused to trust the One who delivered them from Egypt, brought them through the Red Sea, and provided all their needs. Multiple times they were nearly wiped out from existence because of their grumbling and disbelief, were it not for the efforts of their mediator, Moses, and the utter grace of God. Ultimately, their chronic disbelief and idolatry resulted in an entire generation missing out on the Promised Land.

Paul tells us in 1 Corinthians that it was Christ, our ultimate and final Mediator, who was with them in the wilderness:

“For I do not want you to be unaware, brothers, that our father were all under the cloud, and all passed through the sea, and all were baptized into Moses in the cloud and in the sea, and all ate the same spiritual food, and all drank the same spiritual drink. For they drank from the spiritual Rock that followed them, and the Rock was Christ” (1 Corinthians 10:1-4).

The Christian life is one of wandering. In some of our wanderings, we find ourselves in the desert where life is harsh, and the terrain is hard. We may be spiritually parched and desire to return to our former life of slavery—at least there we know what to expect. We may think the desert is Life-less and are tempted to find it on our own, creating our own versions of false-life in counterfeit substitutes. We may even despair and think the desert will destroy us.

Paul cautions us in 1 Corinthians to read the Israelite’s wanderings in the Old Testament and learn from them. To heed the warnings found there. To remember that we are prone to the same grumbling, the same idolatry, the same disbelief. “Now these things took place as examples for us, that we might not desire evil as they did” (10:6).

And above all, to not miss out on the Life that is always with us. We are never alone in our desert wanderings. Christ, who is our Life, is with us. He has wandered the desert before us, meeting every temptation with his perfect righteousness. He provides access to God’s grace through his blood shed on the cross for our sin. He nourishes and sustains us through his Life-giving Spirit. He is the manna and the wellspring that will never run dry.   

Friends, if you are wandering in the desert, look to Christ. He is Life in the desert.

Don't Forsake Your Local Church

Attend a church for any length of time and we’ll likely discover its imperfections. We may find things we don’t like about it. We may find reasons to miss a worship service here and there. We may even feel tempted to seek out greener pastures.

In the book of Hebrews, the writer cautioned his readers: “And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near” (Hebrews 10:25, italics mine). For the Hebrew believers, they were likely fearful of persecution and out of that fear, neglected gathering with their fellow believers.

What about us in the church today? What keeps us from attending our local church? What tempts us to forsake gathering together to worship with fellow believers?

While there are certainly Biblical reasons to leave a church—the pastor engaging in false teaching being one of them—there are also not-so-Biblical reasons we may be tempted to forsake the church. They don’t provide for our particular ministry needs. There aren’t enough people our age or in our stage of life. We don’t like the songs they sing in worship. It’s too big or too small. We’ve heard gossip about the leadership, etc…

When we were in Israel last year, we went to the synagogue in Capernaum, where Jesus taught. “And they went into Capernaum, and immediately on the Sabbath he entered the synagogue and was teaching” (Mark 1:21). Have you ever considered the fact that our holy and righteous God, in the second person of the Trinity, attended the synagogue? He knew what holy worship is, for he commanded it. He knew what kind of worship glorified God and what didn’t. More than anyone else in history, he knew what makes a good worship service and had every reason not to attend, yet he did. Faithfully.

As B.B. Warfield wrote: “Have we not the example of our Lord Jesus Christ? Are we better than he? Surely, if ever there was one who might justly plead that the common worship of the community had nothing to offer him it was the Lord Jesus Christ. But every Sabbath found him seated in his place among the worshipping people, and there was no act of stated worship which he felt himself entitled to discard. Even in his most exalted moods, and after his most elevating experiences, he quietly took his place with the rest of God's people, sharing with them in the common worship of the community. Returning from that great baptismal scene, when the heavens themselves were rent to bear him witness that he was well pleasing to God; from the searching trials of the wilderness, and from that first great tour in Galilee, prosecuted, as we are expressly told, "in the power of the Spirit"; he came back, as the record tells, "to Nazareth, where he had been brought up, and"—so proceeds the amazing narrative—"he entered, as his custom was, into the synagogue, on the Sabbath day." "As his custom was!" Jesus Christ made it his habitual practice to be found in his place on the Sabbath day at the stated place of worship to which he belonged.”

Churches are imperfect. It’s true. They are filled with sinful people. We will have many reasons to be disappointed and frustrated with our churches. And there will be times when it is appropriate to find another congregation. But let us not forsake the church because another church offers more. Let us not neglect meeting together with the body of Christ because we have more pressing things to do. Let us not critique the church against measures the Bible doesn’t even use.

The church is an integral part of our life of faith. We need the sustenance and spiritual nourishment provided through the preached word, corporate prayer, worship in song, and the sacraments. We need the spiritual encouragement of fellow believers and the oversight of our shepherds who protect us from false teaching and wolves in sheep’s clothing. We need the teaching and discipleship the church provides so we can live out the gospel in our lives. We need fellow church members to walk beside us in the trials and sufferings of life, spurring us on with the hope that is ours in Christ. And they need us to do the same.

As the church, we are united to one another through the blood of our mutual Savior shed for us. Each of us is an integral part of the church body, and without her members, the church cannot grow. “…we are to grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ, from whom the whole body, joined and held together by every joint with which it is equipped, when each part is working properly, makes the body grow so that it builds itself up in love” (Ephesians 4:15-16).

We need the church and the church needs us.

Christ went to great lengths to rescue and redeem us so that we would be his. He died to create the church, his bride. Let us not forsake her.