Dave Burchett's Blog, page 70

Hump Day Hope – Religion vs Relationship

The Hump Day Hope comes from two of my favorite grace rabble-rousers. My friend Ed Underwood wrote an excellent piece about our innate mistrust of grace. The title alone was enough to generate deep thought.

Before You Decide that Grace is Too Radical: Who Thought of Grace?

Religion is about control and performance. Jesus changed the dynamic completely and made it about relationship. Ed’s writes that the idea of grace does not come from the heart or mind of man.

If you leave human beings to themselves and ask them, “If there’s a God, what do you think He’d demand from people if they wanted to have a relationship with Him?” the answer is always the same, “Be good enough for Him to accept you!”

Grace says you can’t be good enough to earn it. Grace says you can’t be too bad to receive it. Grace gives up the need to control. Grace gives up the requirement to perform for acceptance. Grace is radical. After reading Ed’s piece I listened to a podcast from another grace instigator. Pastor/writer Tullian Tchividjian was talking about our need to find value and identity in our work. He outlined how that is counter-intuitively upset by God’s grace.

We now work not for acceptance but from it. We now work not for love but from it. We now work from a position of security and not for it.

Think about that. Because of Christ we are accepted, loved and secure and we don’t have to earn or, more to the point, keep earning that status. Ed Underwood sums that up beautifully in his article linked above.

The gospel doesn’t divide humanity into performers and non-performers. The gospel only values one Performance: the work of Christ on the cross.

The message is simple. Relax. Jesus has this. Trust Him. Remember who you are. That should get through the week!

Monday Musing: Second Chances

Joni and I took a field trip this weekend with our grandson to the Gentle Zoo in Forney, Texas. It is a fun and kid friendly place where you can feed animals by hand. Our grandson’s favorite animals to feed were the goats. They were sweet and gentle as they took the food out of your hand. Not so nice was an overbearing Llama that forced his way into every feeding opportunity. We were warned that this critter would spit in your face if you made eye contact with him. That sounded too much like a couple of people I have encountered recently so we avoided him.

What caught my eye was a sign posted around the grounds.

That made the trip more special to know that many of the animals had been rescued from abusive or neglectful situations. It even allowed me to give a bit of grace to the spittin’ Llama (but I still kept a wary distance).

I related to the second paragraph. “Many of our critters have been disabled or injured prior to arriving at the Gentle Zoo. With a little love and care they can thrive despite their disabilities.”

That pretty much describes the resume I brought to Jesus when I recognized my need for something or someone bigger than myself. I was disabled by sin and injured by life. Jesus gave me not a little but a LOT of love along with a bonus helping of forgiveness and grace.

And ever so slowly I am learning to thrive in His love and acceptance. The amazing thing about God’s grace is that He is not a God of a “Second Chance”. He is a God of chance after chance after chance in this lifetime. We are never outside of God’s redeeming grace no matter how much we blow it or how often we blow it.

How is that even possible? We write off people after one or two offenses. How can God keep forgiving after dozens or hundreds of offenses? It doesn’t make sense.

That is because grace does not make sense to our system of accounting. I bring nothing but my sin to the table. Jesus brings His complete sacrifice on my behalf. I get forgiveness for doing nothing except acknowledging and believing what Christ has done.

God’s forgiveness has NOTHING to do with our good works or good intentions. Ephesians 2:8-9 says, “God saved you by his grace when you believed. And you can’t take credit for this; it is a gift from God. Salvation is not a reward for the good things we have done, so none of us can boast about it. 

So no matter what “chance” you are on God will run to meet and forgive you like the Father to the lost prodigal son when you turn back to Him. Not only are we given forgiveness. We also have value and a purpose as Paul points out as he continues in Ephesians.

“For we are God’s masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things he planned for us long ago.”

That is a pretty good thought to begin a new week.

The Plan

For those of you who inexplicably look forward to my ramblings I have established a schedule so you know when to expect something new. I will post a short devotional called Monday Musings to start the week. At midweek I will offer a little booster called Hump Day Hope. And on Friday a Weekend Wildcard that may be serious, silly or a combo plate of both. I will post at other times as well but you can plan on having something on Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Looking forward to interacting with all of you!

Blessings and grace,

Dave

Perspective

 

I recently visited a large rehabilitation hospital for patients dealing with spinal cord injuries, strokes and traumatic brain trauma. As I walked  toward my car I noticed two young men in wheelchairs chatting near the entrance. I overheard a snippet of conversation that rocked my day. The tone was not bitter nor sad. This is the sentence I overheard.

“I would give it all up just to be able to scuba dive one more time.”

What this young man once did without thought or difficulty now was a nearly impossible dream. My heart was pierced. Just that morning I had fussed about a balky hip and yet I was walking freely to my car. I often thought about an aching shoulder but I had freedom to lift and move. All of us take so much for granted. Since that encounter I think of that young man when my hip or shoulder aches. I say a quick prayer of thanksgiving for the health I am blessed with today. But this awareness will wear off. It always does. That makes me sad. But it also makes me human.

Jesus knows all about our frailties. How we worry about things that really don’t matter.

“That is why I tell you not to worry about everyday life—whether you have enough food and drink, or enough clothes to wear. Isn’t life more than food, and your body more than clothing? Look at the birds. They don’t plant or harvest or store food in barns, for your heavenly Father feeds them. And aren’t you far more valuable to him than they are? Can all your worries add a single moment to your life?” Matthew 6, NLT

My friend Ray Pritchard posted a little prayer years ago that I loved so much that my wife got it framed. It sits by my bathroom sink and I need to review it more closely each morning.

Heavenly Father,

You are in charge of everything that will happen to me today – the good and the bad, the happy and the sad, the positive and the negative. Please make me thankful for everything that happens to me today.

Amen

More Confessions Ahead…

I know that a few of you have been patiently wondering if Confessions of a Bad Christian would be returning anytime soon. If you have been staring out your PC Window looking for new posts I apologize.  I took a brief leave from the blog which became a pretty long leave of absence.

Now I am refreshed and ready to dispense my marginal “wisdom” for my tens of readers. I am sure as new folks stumble to this site I will get this question again.

“Why do you call your blog ‘Confessions of a Bad Christian’? Do you really think you are a bad Christian?”

And my answer is always something like this.

Yeah.  I really am. Sometimes “badder” than on other days.

The blog heading of “Confessions of a Bad Christian” started out as a bit of a joke. It was based on the title of my first book, When Bad Christians Happen to Good People. But I will tell you that I have grown attached to the title of this blog. I have come to grips with the truth that I am, in fact, a bad Christian. And that is the point of the title. It is a daily reminder to me that I am capable of thoughts and actions that do not reflect Jesus. I have found that the realization that I can be a bad Christian at any given moment has been the beginning of real growth for me. I cannot do this on my own. 

It breaks my heart to think that my actions would cause anyone to think that Christianity is false. The sad reality is that I encounter Christians all the time that do damage to the cause of Christ. I often tell people that my prayer is that they will not reject Christ because of Christians. I beg them to consider the person of Jesus. The question that each of us must answer is who is Jesus? Is He who He claimed? But too often those I encounter cannot get past the actions of a person who does not represent Jesus well. I do not want any part of a legacy like that.  So I challenge myself and other Christians to be real. Acknowledge that we are fallible. Really fallible. Downright hypocritical. Seek to repair damage. Ask forgiveness. Drop the legalism.  Err always on the side of grace. I suppose that a big part of who I am is growing up in a church that would not have recognized grace if it bit them on their self-righteous posteriors. I know firsthand the damage that legalism can do in the life of person trying to follow Christ.

So I am a bad Christian with a good Savior. I am weak and He is strong. Jesus loves me and all the other bad Christians of the world. He sees all of my sins and He still loves me and calls me His child. Amazing.

I look forward to sharing the journey with you.

Remembering Jackie Robinson

(This is an annual revisit of one of the great stories in sports. Something to take your mind off of tax day)

April 15th is not my favorite day of the year. Traditional tax day is never fun for a guy who is organizationally challenged. My idea of being prepared is having everything in one box. But I was heartened to find that April 15th is a great day for baseball fans.

Jackie Robinson made his major league debut at first base for the Brooklyn Dodgers on this date in 1947. It was a historic and significant day for baseball but maybe more so for our country. You can argue that the American civil rights movement was ignited when Robinson came to bat in Dodger Blue. The journey for Robinson was difficult at best and nearly impossible at worst.

Many Dodgers players, mostly Southerners led by Dixie Walker, threatened to walk if forced to play with a black player. That ended when Dodger management let them know in no uncertain terms that they could keep walking to the unemployment line. I often write about the pain that is caused by “bad” or thoughtless Christians. Can you imagine the pain that Robinson felt to have his teammates reject him for only one reason?

But one teammate reacted in a way that I wish all serious and thoughtful Christians would emulate. Team captain Pee Wee Reese was an unlikely ally for Robinson. He was born in segregated Louisville, Kentucky, and the odds were that Reese would be a part of the boycott against a black player. But the diminutive Pee Wee Reese proved to be a giant of a man one day in Cincinnati. During infield practice the Redleg players were screaming at Jackie with all of the usual hateful epithets. And then the venom was distributed to Reese. They were yelling things at him like “How can you play with this (epithet)?”, as Jackie stood uncomfortably at first base. Pee Wee went over to him and put his arm around him and smiled. A silence fell over the Reds dugout and the fans witnessing this amazing act of grace, Jackie smiled back.

At Reese’s funeral, Joe Black, another Major League Baseball black pioneer, said: “Pee Wee helped make my boyhood dream come true to play in the Majors, the World Series. When Pee Wee reached out to Jackie, all of us in the Negro League smiled and said it was the first time that a White guy had accepted us. When I finally got up to Brooklyn, I went to Pee Wee and said, ‘Black people love you. When you touched Jackie, you touched all of us.’ With Pee Wee, it was No. 1 on his uniform and No. 1 in our hearts.”

Robinson later wrote this sentiment to Reese in a book inscription.

“Pee Wee whether you are willing to admit what you being just a great guy meant (a great deal) to my career, I want you to know how much I feel it meant. May I take this opportunity to say a great big thanks and I sincerely hope all things you want in life be yours.”

We need a lot more Pee Wee Reese’s in the body of Christ. We need men and women who are willing to step up for others when it may not be the best action for personal gain. We need men who are brave enough to look hatred and bigotry in the eye and call it by its name. April 15th was a day that demonstrated the greatness of two men. We need men who have the courage to emulate both Jackie Robinson and Pee Wee Reese in our walk with Jesus. The Apostle Paul had some good advice to accomplish that goal.

Live creatively, friends. If someone falls into sin, forgivingly restore him, saving your critical comments for yourself. You might be needing forgiveness before the day’s out. Stoop down and reach out to those who are oppressed. Share their burdens, and so complete Christ’s law. If you think you are too good for that, you are badly deceived.

Make a careful exploration of who you are and the work you have been given, and then sink yourself into that. Don’t be impressed with yourself. Don’t compare yourself with others. Each of you must take responsibility for doing the creative best you can with your own life. (Galatians 6, The Message)

I want to be willing to stoop down and reach out to those who are oppressed. As I meditate on the gift of grace and redemption I received through the Cross I wonder how I can do anything else?

Need You Now

(Reposted from theFish.com)

A song by Plumb caught my attention for this week’s edition of the iPod Devotionals. Singer Tiffany Arbuckle adopted the name Plumb of her 90’s alternative rock band for her solo career.  The lyrics to “Need You Now” touched my heart.

Well, everybody’s got a story to tell

And everybody’s got a wound to be healed

I want to believe there’s beauty here

‘Cause oh I get so tired of holding on

I can’t let go, I can’t move on

I want to believe there’s meaning here

I am learning how important community is to make this journey with Jesus work. In my community I hear people’s stories. I learn about their wounds. I believe there is beauty there but I grieve with them through the process. The chorus reflects my response to life battles that are way beyond my pay grade.

How many times have you heard me cry out

“God please take this”?

How many times have you given me strength to

Just keep breathing?

Oh, I need you

God, I need you now.

Jesus talked about how we limit our freedom by not trusting what He said to be true. He talked about a yoke and that His yoke was “easy”. Then Jesus said, “Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you. Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy to bear, and the burden I give you is light.” (Matthew 11:28-29, NLT)

You don’t have to ride the life roller coaster more than a couple of times to know that this journey is not “easy”. As I thought about loss I have suffered in my life and the suffering I see around me I was puzzled. What did Jesus mean by that statement? Clearly the burdens of life are heavy. There is nothing easy about heartache. A little research into the cultural context was helpful.

The yoke was a wooden beam that harnessed two oxen together to pull a plow or load. The idea was that they worked together in shared effort. That idea fit well into my performance driven faith. Jesus was with me but I had to pull my weight equally. The only problem with my view is that it was untrue, dangerous and from the pit of hell.

The truth is that Jesus was talking about the yoke of Torah, the yoke of the Law, which would have been familiar to his Jewish listeners. The Old Testament yoke represented submission to authority. The Jews knew that the law was impossible to keep. The key came in the often overlooked offer.

“Let me teach you because I am humble and gentle at heart.”

For years I strained to pull my weight by determined self-effort while Jesus quietly offered a better way.

“Let me teach you.”

I wore myself out trying to do more to please Him even as He whispered.

“I am humble and gentle at heart. Your trust and faith pleases me”.

Members of this agrarian culture likely would have known that a young ox would be paired with an experienced ox for training. The mature ox would carry the bulk of the burden as the younger one walked by his side and learned. That is a beautiful image of Jesus walking side by side with me but carrying the bulk of the burden (if not all) as I learn from Him. That is the picture that Christ is painting. Not a straining effort to please but a submission to His provision and protection. Jesus is offering those who are exhausted and buckling under life’s burdens a way to not go it alone. That was a comforting thought as I considered that pain and loss is a given. I don’t have to go it alone. I can find rest for my soul even as I grieve.

Pastor and author John Stott writes beautifully about how seemingly contradictory truths fit together.

“The way to find rest is to lose our burden at the cross and allow Christ to put his burden and yoke upon us instead. Freedom is not found in discarding the yoke of Christ; it’s found in losing our own burden. It’s not found in discarding his authority; it’s an amazing truth that freedom is found under the yoke of Christ. This is one of the great paradoxes of the Christian life: under his yoke we find rest; through service we find freedom; when we lose ourselves in loving, we find ourselves; when we die to our self-centeredness, we begin to live.”

And that is my heart’s cry today.

Lord I need you.

Now.

Grace and Les Mis

(Reposted from theFish.com)

One of the joys of Christmas break is when the lovely Mrs. Burchett and I get to see some movies at an actual theater. One movie has dominated my thoughts since we left the theater several days ago. I did not know what to expect when I bought tickets for the movie version of Les Miserables. I heard some good things so I was optimistic. But I did not expect to be moved so profoundly.

In case you do not know the story and plan to see the movie I will not be a spoiler. I will just say this is one of the most powerful stories of grace versus law ever written. The movie came to mind again when a song cycled up from Tenth Avenue North called, appropriately, Grace. The lyrics describe the surprising power of grace to change our hearts.

Grace, only grace

Can roll your dead heart’s stone away

Grace, only grace

Can move us to a rhythm that will change our ways

Grace, only grace. I have found that to be so true in my own journey. Yet I fought grace for decades as so many others do. Les Miz is an incredible demonstration of the tension created by grace. Grace makes no sense to us and it is almost incomprehensibly radical. Pastor Tullian Tchividjian wrote this about our “aversion” to the concept of grace in his blog about the movie.

We love the “if/then” proposition: “If” you do this, “then” I will do that. We love “what-goes-around-comes-around” conditionality. It makes us feel safe. It’s easy to comprehend. It makes perfect sense to our grace-shy hearts. It’s makes life formulaic. It breeds a sense of manageability. And best of all, it keeps us in control. We get to keep our ledgers and scorecards.

The logic of grace, on the other hand, is incomprehensible to our law-locked hearts. Grace is thickly counter-intuitive. It feels risky and unfair. It wrestles control out of our hands. It is wild and unsettling. It turns everything that makes sense to us upside-down and inside-out. Law says, “Good people get good stuff; bad people get bad stuff.” Grace says, “The bad get the best; the worst inherit the wealth; the slave becomes a son.” This offends our deepest sense of justice and rightness. We are, by nature, allergic to grace. (from “Give Me Law or Give Me Death”)

I was allergic to grace. Thank God I opened my heart to the compelling truths of grace. I beginning ever so slowly to comprehend the magnitude of Paul’s words to the Ephesians.

But God is so rich in mercy, and he loved us so much, that even though we were dead because of our sins, he gave us life when he raised Christ from the dead. (It is only by God’s grace that you have been saved!) (Ephesians 2, NLT)

Here is what I am discovering in my imperfect pursuit of grace.

Grace compels you to trust others with you. Grace compels you to trust Jesus with your sin because you can’t manage it yourself. Grace compels you to forgive because you have been forgiven. Grace compels you to accept others and not judge them. Grace compels you to move toward the unlovable and not away. Grace compels you to sacrifice when you desire security. Grace compels you to love when your heart is hateful. Grace compels you to trust God when you are afraid and weak.

One other thing that is true. Grace is hard.

But it is the theology that allows us to quit trying to be righteous and actually begin to be righteous. Grace is the theology that allows us to deal with sin instead of trying to manage and rationalize it. Grace is real. It is powerful. And it is not weak. Grace should never be your cover for sin. Instead grace is your only hope to deal with it. Grace makes me tremble when I think of an almighty and powerful God. How could He give such a gift to an unworthy child like me? And how could I be comfortable taking advantage of that amazing grace? I cannot. I pray that I will not. Grace is compelling. I want it to be compelling in my life as well because of one other truth I am discovering. Real grace works. The chorus of “Grace” is my prayer for the New Year.

Grace, grace, come and move me

Oh, come and move me now

Grace, grace, only you can

Lift up what holds me down

The Cattle Were What???????

One of my contributions with this modest little blog is to continually ask the tough questions. While listening to  “Away in a Manger” at church on Sunday my inquiring mind kicked in. You likely know verse three of the song.

The cattle are lowing

The poor Baby wakes

But little Lord Jesus

No crying He makes

As I listened an important series of difficult and probing questions popped into my head. What noise, exactly, were the cattle making when they started lowing? Was this normal cow talk? Did lowing just sound better than mooing in the lyric or is lowing a more spiritual and reverent cow sound? And then the most important question came to mind. What is wrong with me?

I can’t answer the last question but I can help with the others. Lowing is defined at dictionary.com as “the characteristic sound uttered by cattle; a moo”.

So little baby Jesus was awakened by the characteristic sound uttered by a cow. That would not have flowed well in the lyric so I understand using lowing. The next part of the lyric is disturbing to those of us who are parents. If any of the babies who grew up in our household were awakened by cattle lowing they would be squalling (the characteristic sound uttered by a ticked off baby; a scream).  During the course of my intrepid investigating I discovered that this verse was not original to the song. It was added in the early 1900’s by a Methodist minister named John T. McFarland for a children’s program. While verse three is not a part of the original Christmas carol canon it does create an image of Jesus that we need to rethink.

I remember as a child singing “Away in a Manger” and picturing the baby Jesus with this beatific smile on his face and a little halo hovering over his head. In my imagination the animals were swaying and singing like the campfire scene from the movie “Three Amigos”. I pictured Mary and Joseph as awed spectators as the baby Jesus acknowledged the shepherds and welcomed them to his place (remember…the earlier lyrics told us he didn’t have a crib). My images of the baby Jesus were indeed childish. But I wonder if we don’t carry a little of that flawed perspective about the “Baby Jesus” into our adult Christian journey (like Ricky Bobby in the movie Talladega Nights…you bad Christians know what I am talking about).

This Christmas why not take a little time to think about the implications of the incarnation. That nice little theological word is used to denote when the second person of the Trinity assumed human form in the person of Jesus Christ and became both fully God and fully man. C.S. Lewis called the incarnation “the Grand Miracle.” He wrote: “The central miracle asserted by Christians is the Incarnation…. Every other miracle prepares for this, or exhibits this, or results from this…. It was the central event in the history of the Earth–the very thing that the whole story has been about” (from Miracles, chapter 14).

By a miracle that passes human comprehension, the Creator entered his creation, the Eternal entered time, God became human–in order to die and rise again for the salvation of all people. “He comes down; down from the heights of absolute being into time and space, down into humanity; down further still … (to) the womb … down to the very roots and sea-bed of the Nature He has created. But He goes down to come up again and bring the whole ruined world up with Him” (Miracles, C.S. Lewis).

Take a moment to meditate on the mystery of that. Fully God and fully man. I am sure the little Lord Jesus would have had the normal response to being awakened by any cow noise…lowing or other. His swaddling clothes had to be changed just like any baby. Chuck Swindoll described Him as diety in diapers.

How does that affect me this Christmas? Because God became flesh I can relate to a Savior that understands the frailties of my flesh. Because the Creator understands His creation I can be sure that God understands my pain, frustration and loneliness. It is difficult for me to relate to an invisible God. That is the miracle of God becoming man. I can relate to Jesus because He has walked in my sandals. Joni and I were always appreciative and blessed when people expressed love and care while she was battling breast cancer. But when a breast cancer survivor expressed that love it connected on a different level. They had been there, felt the fear, fought the tiring battle and traveled the long road. That is the sovereign genius of the incarnation. We can relate to God in flesh in a way that is different. When I suffer I know that Jesus understands. He has been there. When I am lonely or feeling betrayed I can know (in my finite ability) that He understands. When I am joyful and laughing He understands. By becoming like me I can believe that Jesus can empathize with me on a different level. Because I know He gets it then I also get it. God loves me and Jesus has my back.

My dear children, I write this to you so that you will not sin. But if anybody does sin, we have one who speaks to the Father in our defense—Jesus Christ, the Righteous One.   (I John 2)

Jesus became our advocate and our path to salvation when He arrived on earth. The miracle in the manger was not Jesus ignoring stupid cows. The miracle was God becoming flesh.

Blessings?

(Reposted from theFish.com)

A very dear person in my life is facing a tough decision. This faithful follower prays for wisdom, guidence, assurance and peace. The result so far is confusion and doubt. When they pray to hear the voice of God they hear spiritual crickets. Nothing. The frustration is real. But should we be surprised with the process?

A song by Laura Story resonated with my soul on a recent walk. The song is called “Blessings” and the words are profound.

We pray for blessings

We pray for peace

Comfort for family, protection while we sleep

We pray for healing, for prosperity

There is nothing inherently wrong with praying for those things. But my attempt to maneuver God to grant my wishes is wrong. Laying out my will and praying for God’s notary seal is not what He desires. Blessings are not just receiving good things from God and that truth is beautifully captured by Story’s lyrics.

‘Cause what if your blessings come through raindrops

What if Your healing comes through tears

What if a thousand sleepless nights are what it takes to know You’re near

What if trials of this life are Your mercies in disguise

Her lyrics come out of learning to trust the object of her worship even through the trials. Her website bio describes her journey.

But amidst that success a brain tumor hospitalized her husband in 2006. The faith Story sang about was put through the unexpected fires of fear and loneliness; most young newlyweds don’t imagine being kept alive at one point by breathing machines or having to find their way through significant post-operative vision and memory loss. Could grace notes resound from such a life-altering struggle?

We know that pain reminds this heart

That this is not our home

Story relates the question she faced during the health crisis she faced with her husband.

“But there’s a decision that I find God is asking us to make: whether we are going to choose to interpret our circumstances based on what we hold to be true about God, or whether we’re going to judge what we hold to be true about God based on our circumstances.”

Our faith is not based on feelings or circumstances or checking off items on the prayer list. Our faith is based on the object of our faith. God is faithful. He hears our cries. But sometimes the answer is not what we desire. Paul learned the same thing and he wrote about it to the church in Corinth. You likely know the passage. Paul was given “a thorn in the flesh” that he beseeched three different times to be removed. Paul had a pretty strong signal on the Faith-o-meter. Five bars. But God said no. I like the translation from The Message.

Because of the extravagance of those revelations, and so I wouldn’t get a big head, I was given the gift of a handicap to keep me in constant touch with my limitations. Satan’s angel did his best to get me down; what he in fact did was push me to my knees. No danger then of walking around high and mighty! At first I didn’t think of it as a gift, and begged God to remove it. Three times I did that, and then he told me,

   My grace is enough; it’s all you need.

My strength comes into its own in your weakness.

Once I heard that, I was glad to let it happen. I quit focusing on the handicap and began appreciating the gift. It was a case of Christ’s strength moving in on my weakness. Now I take limitations in stride, and with good cheer, these limitations that cut me down to size—abuse, accidents, opposition, bad breaks. I just let Christ take over! And so the weaker I get, the stronger I become.  (2 Corinthians 12, The Message)

The gift of a handicap? Are you kidding me? But as I look back on the deep valleys and trials of my journey I see God’s hand and my growth through those events. Blessings from the pain? Without question. And I am learning the truth of Laura Story’s experience.

What if trials of this life

The rain, the storms, the hardest nights

Are your mercies in disguise?

More and more I am realizing that they are.