Randy Alcorn's Blog, page 47

Will We Ask Forgiveness of Others in Heaven If We Weren’t Able to on the Present Earth?

Someone asked a great follow up question on Facebook, in response to my blog Will We Have Regrets at the Judgment Seat of Christ?: “Will we ask forgiveness of others in Heaven if we weren’t able to make it right here on Earth?”

I think in all probability, we might. We know for sure that will give an account of our lives to God: “So then each of us will give an account of himself to God” (Romans 14:12). That suggests there might be opportunities to make things right with others in Heaven.

Even in this life, the fact that our sins are covered by Christ’s blood doesn’t mean that we have no responsibility to ask others for forgiveness when we’ve harmed them through our actions. And in Heaven, we will be informed, righteous, and godly people who can take responsibility.

No one in Heaven will carry a grudge—we will be without sin—but it seems strange to imagine two people interacting without having talked about and acknowledged their past. Might the Apostle Paul have asked Stephen forgiveness for approving his murder? I expect he has. After his conversion, Paul honestly acknowledged his past sins against other believers: “And I said, ‘Lord, they themselves know that in one synagogue after another I imprisoned and beat those who believed in you. And when the blood of Stephen your witness was being shed, I myself was standing by and approving and watching over the garments of those who killed him’” (Acts 22:19-20).

Can a perfected person ask forgiveness for something in the past? Who better to! I think there might well be opportunity to experience reconciliation with others in eternity. Reconciliation is a process that requires certain things to happen so that it takes place. I think that will still be true when we’re with the Lord. Sure, God could make everything automatic so no process is involved. But it seems much more like Him as He works in the lives of His finite creatures to let us go through a process whereby things are made right.

Now, this is speculation on my part, since there’s no Scripture that addresses this. But it makes sense to me. And if this does take place, certainly those asking for and receiving forgiveness, and those giving it, will be reminded of the far greater forgiveness Jesus has offered them through His shed blood. When we are with Jesus and see His scars, it will never be hard to ask for forgiveness nor hard to receive it.

For more on Heaven, see Randy’s books The Promise of the New Earth  and  Heaven . You can also browse our resources on Heaven and additional books.

Photo: Pexels

Rejoicing Is Rooted in Our God, Not Our Circumstances

Rejoicing always in the Lord (see Philippians 4:4) may seem unrealistic at times. But we must remember that this rejoicing is centered not in a passing circumstance but in a constant reality—God Himself, and his Son, Jesus, who died for us and rose again.

On the one hand, we might suppose that Scripture doesn’t command us to rejoice in our nation’s condition, our culture’s trajectory, our spouse’s attitude, our child’s struggle, our church’s conflicts, our job loss, or our poor health. On the other hand, we’re told to “always [give] thanks to God the Father for everything, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ” (Ephesians 5:20, NIV). Likewise, Scripture tells us to “give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus” (1 Thessalonians 5:18, NIV).

I don’t think this means that we are to rejoice in evil, per se, since God hates evil (Zechariah 8:17; Proverbs 6:16-19) and commands us to hate it (Psalm 97:10; Proverbs 8:13; Romans 12:9). I do think it means that we should believe Romans 8:28, which tells us God will work all things together for our good, including evil things that happen to us.

Believing this frees us to thank God in the middle of difficult and even evil circumstances, knowing that in His sovereign grace, He is accomplishing great, eternal purposes in us through these things.

We’re told to rejoice in the Lord and to “consider it all joy” when we face hardship (James 1:2, NASB). Choosing to rejoice, by rehearsing reasons to be happy and grateful while suffering, affirms trust in God. We walk by faith, believing in what God has done, is doing, and will do to bring a good end to all that troubles us.

This response requires faith that God lovingly superintends our challenges. Viewing our sufferings as random or obsessing over someone else’s bad choices that caused our sufferings robs us of happiness. A weak, small, or faulty view of God always poisons the well of our contentment.

Who is this God we are to trust? What is He really like? We won’t trust Him until we know Him. Ours is a God with many attributes. If God were only sovereign, that wouldn’t be enough. His power alone can’t infuse us with happiness. His love is wonderful, but it, too, isn’t enough.

Think about it. We could have an all-powerful God who doesn’t love us. Or we could have a loving God who means well but doesn’t have the power to make good things happen.

Instead, Scripture teaches that we have a God who loves us and is sovereign over the universe, including all evil. Our God promises us that He will cause all things, even our suffering, to work together for our ultimate good (see Romans 8:28).

The more we grow in our understanding of God’s attributes, the happier we become.

Excerpted from Does God Want Us to Be Happy?

Photo by Priscilla Du Preez on Unsplash

Faithfulness to God Is Success

This is a wonderful video from Generous Giving. I love the warmth and family element to it, and also the realistic honesty that says life, child raising, and giving are sometimes quite hard, but always very rewarding:

Here’s something I wrote in my book Giving Is the Good Life:

Giving is more than a noble and compassionate act. It’s a giant lever positioned on the fulcrum of this world, allowing us to move mountains in the next world. When we die, we will see at last the incredible, eternal results of our giving.

Because we give, eternity will be different—for others and for us and our families. Giving away our money, possessions, time, and talents is a sacred opportunity to make a great and eternal difference. And it’s also our opportunity to enter into living the good life now.

When he was young, Matt McPherson sought the Lord’s direction for his life. Matt built archery bows and asked God for the wisdom to build the best bows in the world. He developed the single cam bow and now owns one of the world’s largest archery bow companies.

Matt started other business ventures, including McPherson Guitars, which he began with his father. Their goal is to make money to impact the world. They now fully support more than seven hundred missionaries worldwide.

Matt’s story is another one that makes me thank God for furthering His Kingdom by not calling some people to spend their lives as pastors or missionaries. There are millions of faithful business and professional people, including musicians, artists, and athletes, spread across the world. If Matt has fully funded seven hundred missionaries, how many tens of thousands of other missionaries have been able to go do their work because believers in secular vocations have faithfully used their gifts and passions to build businesses that generously send and support them? And while supporting missionaries, they themselves serve Christ in the unique mission fields of their businesses and neighborhoods.

Matt McPherson says, “When I’m dying, I’m not going to be wishing I’d bought myself something else. I’m going to be thinking, ‘I wish I would have done more for Christ.’”

I think Matt is exactly right. When we enter Christ’s presence, we’ll see with eternity’s clarity.

We’re called God’s servants, and we’re told it’s required of us that we “prove faithful” (1 Corinthians 4:2). So while we still have our earthly lives to live, why not sharpen our long-distance vision and grab hold of the good life now?

Why not make what will be most important to us when we die most important to us now?

Why not spend the rest of our lives closing the gap between what we are giving and what we will one day wish we’d given?

See Randy's book  Giving Is the Good Life  and more resources on money and giving.

An Eternal Perspective on Suffering, Loss, and Grief

A few weeks ago I spoke at the services of my home church, Good Shepherd Community Church. The subject was what God has been teaching me about loss and grief since Nanci went to be with Jesus March 28.

Pastor Steve Keels did a great job asking me questions. Normally I don’t talk about the interviewer, but in this case I think I should. Other than Nanci, Steve’s been my closest friend for many years. In our 46 years of friendship Steve and I have had thousands of late-night phone conversations, and a ridiculous number of texts in which we share theological insights but mostly just poke fun at each other. I did the math, and we’ve known each other 2,400 weeks, and there’s rarely been a week we haven’t had a meal, often multiple meals together. And we’re always getting together to talk about God and His Word and the joys and pains of ministry, praying and pouring out our hearts and laughing until it hurts.

Every Thursday night for thirty years Nanci and I were at the Keels house, usually with Paul and Michele Norquist, to enjoy Sue’s wonderful meals. In the last three years we’ve shared many tears, after Jason Keels, Steve and Sue’s son, died the day after Thanksgiving in 2019. (Six weeks later we were with the Keels and Norquists on vacation together for two weeks.) Then Michele died January 1 of this year, and Nanci on March 28. Sue still fixes dinner for Paul, Steve, and me on Thursdays, though the six of us have been reduced to four.  To show how this small group connects with suffering, loss, and grief, consider that of the four of us still here, two have lost their son, and two have lost our wives. (I’m writing this on Jason’s 33rd birthday.)

One of the most precious things about that weekend at my church was that I was able to share many profound insights from Nanci’s journals. One woman we’ve known for years wrote me afterwards, “I knew Nanci was a special lady; I had no idea how much her words about God would speak to me this morning through you.”

Another woman wrote, “I knew Nanci as a ‘force’ in Women’s Bible Study, and on the Writing Team for the lessons we study each year. But getting a glimpse into her journals helped all of us see the sincerity and incredible depth of her complete faith and trust in Jesus her beloved Savior. Hearing Nanci’s words was a wakeup call for me to stop jumping from one latest book promising to help me heal from all my wounds to the next, and to instead focus on God, and who He reveals Himself to be in His Word.”

Our dear friend Rakel Thurman, who with her husband Pat, Nanci and I visited on mission fields in Egypt and Cyprus, reminded me right after the final message that for years they tried to get Nanci to speak at women’s Bible study. She declined, since speaking up front, beyond an occasional Q&A with me, was not something she enjoyed. Rakel pointed out that now Nanci had spoken publicly, and to the whole church, through what I shared from her journals.

Here are some of the questions Steve asked me:

Is it OK for Christians to grieve?
What are some of the Scriptures that have helped you in your grief?
We don’t like to think about death. But what does the Bible say about it?
Did God let you down by not healing Nanci? Did you not have enough faith?
Is it OK to struggle with faith? Is it OK to ask God tough questions about suffering?
How can we benefit from our own suffering in life?

Here’s the full hour-long service:

These are some of my past blog articles, sharing meaningful insights from Nanci:

We Would Do Well to Dig Deep into God
What Faith Is, and Is Not
What Do You Like Most About Jesus?
An Introvert Can Have Great Impact in God’s Kingdom
“My Cancer Is God’s Servant”: Reflections by Nanci Alcorn
What It Means to Look upon God’s Goodness
A Prayer to the Shepherd of My Life
Nanci’s memorial service and life story, including videos from children, grandchildren, and friends

Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

Will We Have Regrets at the Judgment Seat of Christ?

When Kirk Cousins, starting quarterback for the Minnesota Vikings, interviewed me, one of the great questions he asked was, “Will we have regret in Heaven when we finally see with an eternal perspective?”

I really appreciated Kirk’s question because of his Bible-based recognition of a truth many Christians don’t often contemplate, that “each of us will give an account of ourselves to God” (Romans 14:12). While many Bible verses teach this, most of us fail to live daily with the eternal perspective this truth should cultivate in us. I want to explore this further than I was able to do in that interview.

God promises total forgiveness for our sins, and without it we can’t enter Heaven.

First things first. Certainly, Heaven ultimately will be a place of eternal joy: “In your presence there is fullness of joy; at your right hand are pleasures forevermore” (Psalm 16:11, ESV).

The joy of Heaven is dependent upon the reality that God forgives our sins:

“He will again have compassion on us; he will tread our iniquities underfoot. You will cast all our sins into the depths of the sea.” (Micah 7:19, ESV)

“[A]s far as the east is from the west, so far does he remove our transgressions from us.” (Psalm 103:12, ESV)

“I, even I, am he who blots out your transgressions, for my own sake, and remembers your sins no more.” (Isaiah 43:25, NIV)

“For I will forgive their wrongdoing, and I will never again remember their sins.” (Hebrews 8:12, CSB)

“If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.” (1 John 1:9, NIV)

Everything these verses say is true. And yet…there are other true things also revealed in Scripture, which we must strive to reconcile with them.

For instance, Jesus said, “Behold, I am coming soon, bringing my recompense with me, to repay each one for what he has done” (Revelation 22:12, ESB). Did Jesus really mean “each one,” including believers, will have his or her works evaluated, to see if they are worthy of reward?

And how about this statement from the apostle Paul: “For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, so that each one may receive what is due for what he has done in the body, whether good or evil” (2 Corinthians 5:10, ESV). Some who have never been taught this may find it shocking, but God’s Word tells us we will be held accountable at the judgment seat of Christ for every deed we’ve done, including the evil ones. If you disagree, keep in mind that these are not my words, but God’s.

Jesus, speaking to both believers and unbelievers, said, “You must give an account on judgment day for every idle word you speak” (Matthew 12:36, NLT). It seems obvious that giving account for those careless words we’ve spoken will make us feel bad. How could it be otherwise?

How Salvation and Rewards Relate

There are two different judgments in God’s Word: the judgment of faith, and the judgment of works. The judgment of faith relates to our eternal salvation, while the judgment of works relates to our eternal rewards.

For Christians, salvation took place in a moment in the past. It was free, it can’t be lost, it is the same for all Christians, and it is solely based on a faith that is ours by the grace of God alone. By contrast, future rewards are earned (by God’s grace), can be lost, differ among Christians, and are based on our efforts. Consider this chart and the verses cited:

Salvation                                                             Rewards

Past (1 John 3:2)                                   Future (Revelation 22:12)

Free (Ephesians 2:8-9)                           Earned (1 Corinthians 3:8)

Can’t be lost (John 10:28-29)                  Can be lost (2 John 1:8)

Same for all Christians                            Differ among Christians
(Romans 3:22)                                      (1 Corinthians 3:12-15)

For those who believe                              For those who work
(John 3:16)                                            (1 Corinthians 9:27)

Salvation is about God’s work for us. Conversely, rewards are a matter of our work for God. When it comes to salvation, our work for God is no substitute for God’s work for us. God saves us because of Christ’s work, not ours. Likewise, when it comes to rewards, God rewards us for our work, not Christ’s. (Of course, it is empowered by the Holy Spirit; nevertheless, God refers to it as our work.)

Let me be sure this is perfectly clear. Christ paid the eternal price (Hell on the cross) for all our sins, once and for all (Hebrews 10:12-18). If we have trusted Him for that provision, we will not pay the eternal price; that is, we will not go to Hell. He has fully forgiven our sins, and we are completely secure in Christ’s love (Psalm 103:8-18; Romans 8:31-39). Our salvation is sure, and we will not undergo the judgment of condemnation (John 5:24; Romans 8:1).

But although the forgiveness of our sins has every bearing on our eternal destination, it has no automatic and effortless effect on our eternal rewards, apart from the fact that God’s sanctifying work comes out of our salvation, and therefore we should expect that the Holy Spirit’s presence in our lives should lead us to do good works that God will reward. But we must choose to do the works He prompts us to do. Neither does it mean our choices have no consequences in eternity. Forgiven people can still lose their rewards or forfeit eternal positions of responsibility they could have had if they’d served Christ consistently and faithfully before death.

Trust in Christ, lean on Him, and draw upon Him for power, for apart from Him we can do nothing. But if we hope to receive a reward, we must still do the necessary work. As our forefathers put it, to wear the crown we must first bear the cross.

Just as there are eternal consequences to our faith, so there are eternal consequences to our works.

What we do with our resources—including our time, money, and possessions—will matter not just twenty minutes, twenty days, or twenty years from now. It will matter twenty trillion years from now.

Though Paul insists we are saved by faith, not works (Titus 3:5), he also clearly states that the choices we make and the things we do have eternal implications, and that we will each answer to God for the works we have done in this life: 

If anyone builds on this foundation [Christ] using gold, silver, costly stones, wood, hay or straw, their work will be shown for what it is, because the Day will bring it to light. It will be revealed with fire, and the fire will test the quality of each person’s work. If what has been built survives, the builder will receive a reward. If it is burned up, the builder will suffer loss but yet will be saved—even though only as one escaping through the flames. (1 Corinthians 3:12-15, NIV)

Those believers who have been less faithful and obedient in their walk with Christ will not suffer loss of salvation! But they will suffer loss of the reward that would have been theirs had they been more Christ-centered and faithful in their service to Jesus.

What 1 Corinthians 3 says is so sobering that a temporary loss doesn’t seem likely.  This loss of rewards appears permanent, for while we will all serve God in our resurrected bodies on His New Earth, there appears to be a finality to the fact that after death comes judgment (Hebrews 9:27). If there are any future judgments for our service to God on the New Earth, we are not told about them in Scripture. Of course, we should anticipate for our future service He will say to all of his children, “Well done!” And yet, despite Scripture’s silence on this, I think it’s very possible that God, who is by nature a rewarder (Hebrews 6:11), may continue to reward His people for faithful service on the New Earth. That resonates with me, and I don’t see anything unbiblical about it. It fully fits His nature as a Father who takes joy in saying “Well done” to His devoted children.

Earning Our Full Reward

First Corinthians isn’t the only passage that speaks of losing reward. The apostle John wrote, “Watch yourselves, so that you may not lose what we have worked for, but may win a full reward” (2 John 1:8, ESV).

To win a full reward would be glorious, wouldn’t it?  But surely all of us will regret some of our decisions in that day when we “suffer loss” or “lose what we have worked for.” Anticipating standing before the judgment seat of Christ should motivate us to follow Him wholeheartedly and generate in us a proper fear of God.

All of us will be full of joy in Heaven, but those who served Him faithfully, particularly in the midst of adversity, will have been made, by God’s grace, into larger vessels. They won’t be fuller of joy, but they will have a greater capacity, and their fullness will accordingly contain even more joy. (Hence the special place in Revelation given to the martyrs.) There won’t be envy or regret, because of our new natures, and all will be full of joy, yet there will be true continuity and eternal consequence so that what we do—not just what we believe—in this life affects the next.

Maybe one way to say it is that the “loss” of rewards is in some sense permanent, but the “suffering” of that loss will be temporary. God will do away with the suffering (Revelation 21:4), but that is after the judgment, after we give an account to the Lord. The suffering of regret will be there at the judgment (how could it not be?) before entrance to the eternal state, but then comes the learning and purifying and eternal rejoicing. Perhaps we’ll offer a short, entirely sincere, “I regret my lack of faith and faithfulness,” expressing this to our God who graciously forgives. Then, with that forever behind us, we move on to eternal joy.

But there will be no ongoing suffering, for all our regrets about our past will be overshadowed by God’s grace. Yet if there were no reckoning, no “suffering loss” then the 1 Corinthians 3 passage would be meaningless (which is exactly what most teaching on the subject reduces it to). Some will object that this is a sort of Protestant purgatory, just shorter in duration than languishing in the flames of the Catholic purgatory. But the suffering is not in the eternal state, only in a temporal judgment, and judgment must involve the negative as well as positive or it too is meaningless. The biblical statements of “giving an account” and that include “works done in the body, whether good and evil” are unmistakable in that regard. (Doing the evil will clearly have taken away from the rewards that would have come from doing good.)

Consequences without Condemnation

Since all who know Jesus go to the intermediate Heaven immediately when we die, it appears that whenever this judgment happens, it will be after we get there. So, while God will one day wipe away every tear from our eyes (Revelation 21:4), it seems likely that when we must give an account for our lives, there will be, for a time, some regrets and tears and a sense of that loss Scripture speaks of.

I realize this is hard to grasp. I am just trying to be true to all God’s Word says, instead of choosing only parts of it . This may sound like a sort of condemnation and punishment, but we are assured this isn’t the case, for “There is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus” (Romans 8:1).

Ephesians 1:7 says, “In him [Jesus] we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of sins, in accordance with the riches of God’s grace” (NIV). The Bible teaches not only forgiveness of our sins but also consequences for our choices. These consequences apply despite our forgiveness. Forgiveness means that God eliminates our eternal condemnation; we will not be ultimately punished for our sins, but there may be immediate consequences in this world due to our sins. Forgiven people can still contract AIDS, go to jail for drunk driving, or suffer the death penalty, for example. A murderer or drug dealer can be fully redeemed and forgiven, and may still spend the rest of his life in prison. He may lose his family as well as his freedom. After all, the thief on the cross remained there despite his confession of faith.

In Heaven, God appears to say that while all our sins will be forgiven and there will be no ongoing shame or regrets, nevertheless at the judgment seat an initial and temporary sense of shame, regret and sorrow seems likely, though one that will soon be swallowed up by eternal grace and joy.

Prepared for Good Works

One of the most often quoted passages in Scripture states, “For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God— not by works, so that no one can boast” (Ephesians 2:8-9, NIV).

It’s a wonderful truth, but verse 10 immediately follows with more truth about works: “For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.” God has prepared a lifetime of good works and we will give an account to Him for whether or not we have done them.

Surely each of these passages and others like them imply that while we will be fully forgiven in Christ and be forever totally cleansed and purified by His redemptive work, we will nonetheless be held accountable for what we have and haven’t done in this life.

It seems reasonable we won’t be joyful at the very moment we have to give an account for our sins, the careless words we have spoken, and all the wood, hay, and straw of our lives that will be consumed in the fire, that could have instead been gold and silver and precious stones. And at the same time, we will find great pleasure in the rewards God has given us, and we will celebrate the rewards He gives to others.

Embracing Paradox

But how does this all fit with the truth about forgiveness of our sins? I think of the example of Charles Spurgeon, who didn’t try to reconcile every paradox or apparent contradiction in the Bible. Speaking of the truths of God’s sovereignty and human responsibility—which I also believe to be applicable to the truths of complete forgiveness and accountability at the judgment seat—Spurgeon said this:

These two truths, I do not believe, can ever be welded into one upon any human anvil, but one they shall be in eternity: they are two lines that are so nearly parallel, that the mind that shall pursue them farthest, will never discover that they converge; but they do converge, and they will meet somewhere in eternity, close to the throne of God, whence all truth doth spring.

Spurgeon also wrote, “Those who will only believe what they can reconcile will necessarily disbelieve much of divine revelation.” Our desire for logical consistency, as we understand it, can become our God. Then we, not Scripture and not God, become our own ultimate authority. We end up ignoring, rejecting, or twisting Scripture that doesn’t fit our chosen theology.

On the contrary, our theology should reflect Scripture itself, and wherever Scripture teaches apparently contradictory ideas, our theology should embrace those same ideas, rather than resort to a consistency which rejects part of God’s revealed Word.

Certainly, any and all of our regrets about our past will be overshadowed by God’s grace, which is the good news of the Gospel. There is comfort in 1 Corinthians 4:5, which says God “will bring to light the things now hidden in darkness and will disclose the purposes of the heart. Then each one will receive his commendation from God.” God will apparently find something to reward “each one” for. This makes sense, for no one can truly be born again without having demonstrated some fruit for which God can reward us.

Let’s Live in Light of Eternity Now

All of this argues for cultivating an eternal perspective in which we seek to live each day in light of eternity—not out of dread, yet with the right kind of fear of God and a heartfelt love that desires to please our Lord and Savior.

In his book When Christ Comes, Max Lucado writes, “You can be certain you won’t regret any sacrifice you made for the kingdom. The hours of service for Christ? You won’t regret them. The money you gave? You’d give it a thousand times over. The times you helped the poor and loved the lost? You’d do it again. . . . You’d change the diapers, fix the cars, prepare the lessons, repair the roofs. One look into the faces of the ones you love, and you’d do it all again.”

An eternal perspective isn’t something we have to wait until Heaven to have. So I’ve often given readers and listeners this advice: live now the way that you will one day wish you would have. Don’t postpone obedience, holiness, purity, drawing close to God, and serving others.

Five minutes after we die, we’ll know exactly how we should have lived—it will be too late to go back and change anything. God has given us His Word so we don’t have to wait until we die to know how we should have lived. There’s no second chance for the unbeliever—but also no second chance for the believer! Just as missionary C. T. Studd said, “Only one life, ’twill soon be past; only what’s done for Christ will last.”

You and I have one life on this fallen earth in which to follow Jesus and invest in Heaven. Let’s not miss the opportunity. God will one day take away all our sorrows, but why go into eternity with regrets? Here’s a prayer for us: May what will be most important to us five minutes after we die become most important to us now.

For more on the eternal Heaven, the New Earth, see Randy’s book  Heaven . You can also browse our additional resources on Heaven.

Photo by David Billings on Unsplash

Let Us Live and Pray as One Baptized into the Threefold Name

I love The Valley of Vision, which is a collection of brief and profound Puritan prayers compiled by Arthur Bennett. I find these prayers uniquely powerful and penetrating. So did Nanci, and she often read them in her last few years of going deep in the things of God before Jesus took her home. 

It's hard for me to imagine any single book that could prepare you more to be with Jesus than this one. What follows below is just the first prayer in the book but there are many others every bit as biblically grounded and heart-touching.

If you haven’t discovered the Puritans, I highly recommend that you do. They lived in an era of suffering, where their children often died young and there were no antibiotics and modern medical treatments, but they relied upon a God of sovereign grace and merciful love. 

The Puritans have been stereotyped as legalistic and impersonal and believing in an impersonal God, but in many hours of reading them I believe nothing could be further from the truth! A seminary theology prof once told me that the Puritans had a cold view of God. I asked him—knowing what his answer would be—if he had ever read the Valley of Vision: the book of Puritan Prayers. He said no, and I told him, “Just read it and it will change your mind!” 

My heart was warmed today by rereading this beautiful prayer to our triune God:

Heavenly Father, blessed Son, eternal Spirit,

We adore you as one Being, one Essence,

one God in three distinct Persons,

for bringing sinners to the knowledge of you and your kingdom.

O Father, you have loved us and sent Jesus to redeem us;

O Jesus, you have loved us and taken on our nature,

You who shed your own blood to wash away our sins,

Who worked righteousness to cover our unworthiness;

O Holy Spirit, you have loved use and entered our hearts,

implanted there eternal life,

revealed to us the glories of Jesus.

Three Persons and one God, we bless and praise you,

for love so unmerited, so unspeakable, so wondrous,

so mighty to save the lost and raise them to glory.

O Father, we thank you that in fullness of grace

You have given me to Jesus,

to be his sheep, jewel, portion;

O Jesus, we thank you that in fullness of grace

You have accepted, supported, bound us;

O Holy Spirit, we thank you that in fullness of grace

You have exhibited Jesus as our salvation,

implanted faith within us,

subdued our stubborn hearts,

made us one with him forever.

O Father, you are enthroned to hear our prayers,

O Jesus, your hand is outstretched to take our petitions,

O Holy Spirit, you are willing to help our sufferings,

to show us our need, to supply words, to pray within us,

to strengthen us that we do not faint in our supplication.

O Triune God, who commanded the universe,

You have commanded us to ask for those things

that concern your kingdom and our souls.

Let us live and pray as one baptized into the threefold Name.

Taken from The Valley of Vision: A Collection of Puritan Prayers & Devotions, ed. Arthur Bennett (Carlisle, PA: Banner of Truth, 1975), 3. Language modernized for corporate worship by Stuart Strachan Jr.

Photo by Tim Wildsmith on Unsplash

Our Weakness Could Be the Making of Our Children’s Faith

Note from Randy: I’ve long told parents that saying, “I’m sorry, please forgive me,” may teach our children more than we would have by never failing, and far more than pretending we never fail. Likewise, sharing honestly with our children about our weaknesses and our need for God’s strength can also teach them a great deal, as our friend Vaneetha Rendall Risner so beautifully explains in this powerful article. She writes, “Parenting through weakness can bring God glory. As we rely on God and his grace, he shines through our lives.”

God says, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:9). We bring the weakness; He brings the power. This is God’s grace—He can redeem our weaknesses and even use them for great good. 

Our Children Need to See Weakness

By Vaneetha Rendall Risner

“Would you please, please come with me? I really want you to be there. All the other moms are going.”

My daughter was pleading with me to volunteer at field day for her kindergarten class. How could I deny such an earnest request? But since I couldn’t navigate the outdoors without assistance, I had to say no once again. She nodded her head understandingly when I explained why — she was used to disappointment. She didn’t know how much I wanted to go, how I longed to connect with her at school, or how guilty I felt that she was missing out.

Before I had children, my disability primarily impacted me. I could choose what I wanted to do, and I taught myself to want only those activities that were physically possible for me. But after I had children, I was faced with more challenging responsibilities and requests, constant reminders of what I couldn’t do. I felt guilty and responsible for what my girls lacked due to my limitations.

Over the years, I’ve met other parents who also feel inadequate — financial constraints, lack of education, limited resources, one all-consuming child, their own emotional battles, familial dysfunction, or a whole litany of other struggles. Like me, they were convinced that their inabilities put their children at a disadvantage.

Yet God, in his infinite wisdom, has chosen us to be the parents of our children.

Dependence Can Be a Strength

In my frailty, I rely more on God. I need his power and wisdom because I don’t have power and wisdom in myself. And I have discovered that since “the foolishness of God is wiser than men, and the weakness of God is stronger than men” (1 Corinthians 1:25), I have unimaginable resources at my disposal.

When I ask for wisdom, God generously gives it. When I wait on the Lord, he renews my strength. When I am weary and troubled, he gives me rest. When I turn to God, he gives me everything I need.

My dependence and limitations have become my greatest strengths because they push me to pray before I answer or act. When I could easily do what my children asked, I didn’t seek God’s wisdom or help. I just responded. I didn’t consider alternatives or potential pitfalls. I assumed I had it under control.

The Israelites were once deceived by their Gibeonite neighbors, who claimed to have come from a far-off land and presented torn sacks, dried-out provisions, and worn-out clothes as proof. The Israelites “did not ask counsel from the Lord” (Joshua 9:14) because it seemed obvious what to do. I can relate to their actions, as I look back at the impulsive decisions I made without giving them much thought. Decisions I often regretted later. But when my children asked me for things that were beyond my abilities, I had to ask God for wisdom and help. Just as Jehoshaphat did when he said to the Lord, “We are powerless against this great horde that is coming against us. We do not know what to do, but our eyes are on you” (2 Chronicles 20:12).

Weakness Made Me a Better Mom

In my weakness, I begged God for tangible, specific help and saw concrete answers to prayer. The more I asked, the more God answered. The more I needed, the more he provided. The more I sought God, the more easily I found him. I would have missed out on untold blessings had I not been so needy.

My physical condition involves increasing pain and weakness, so I daily crawled to Jesus weary and heavy laden, and he gave me rest. I had to let go of my desire to do things perfectly, to meet everyone else’s needs, to wear myself out to the point of exhaustion. I had once been Martha, pulled apart by much serving, but my disability forced me into the role of Mary (Luke 10:38–42). Yet it was only then that I discovered the richness of sitting at Jesus’s feet, trusting him with all that felt undone.

God used my weakness to make me a better mother, and to forge a deeper character in my children.

When faced with something I couldn’t do, I sometimes wondered if my daughters would have been better off in a different family. But God reassured me that I was handpicked by him to address their unique strengths and struggles. Christ equips and strengthens us for everything our children need (Philippians 4:13, 19), so we need not feel inadequate.

What God Did Through Weakness

While I’d been consumed with what I couldn’t do for my children, I almost missed what God was doing in them because of my weakness. Now I see they are both creative problem-solvers. They show up for people and keep their commitments.

They are also compassionate and caring, noticing what people need and looking out for people with differing abilities. Even as small children, they never stared or asked strangers, “What’s wrong with you?” Once, when my older daughter’s first-grade teacher dropped her papers in class, Katie immediately jumped up from her seat across the room to pick them up. None of the other students even attempted to get up. When the teacher recounted the story, I realized that God was shaping my daughters through my disability in ways I hadn’t even noticed.

My younger daughter saw the blessing of crying out to God one rainy night when I was driving her to her basketball game in a neighboring town. In the stop-and-go traffic, my leg began to give out, and there was no way to get off the road. Tears rolled down my cheeks — I felt inadequate, scared, and overwhelmed yet again.

When Kristi realized what was happening, she immediately said aloud, “God, please make my mom’s leg feel stronger and the traffic clear up.” We took turns praying back and forth together. Within minutes, we stopped seeing red brake lights, and the cramping in my leg eased as we made it to the game just in time. On the way home, she commented on how God answered our prayers.

Our Cracks Help Them See

Our weaknesses could be the making of our children’s faith. They learn to rely on God for the things we cannot do. They watch us pray. They see our limitations. And they get a front-row seat to see how God provides. As they watch our weak and flawed earthen vessels up close, they see the surpassing power that belongs to God and not to us (2 Corinthians 4:7). In this way, our cracks help them see.

Parenting through weakness can bring God glory. As we rely on God and his grace, he shines through our lives. God’s grace is sufficient for us, and his power is made perfect in weakness (2 Corinthians 12:9). What more could we want?

This article originally appeared on Desiring God, and is used with permission of the author.

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Are People in Heaven Praying for Those on Earth?

(You can also listen to my thoughts related to this question.)

The answer is possibly yes—at least sometimes. Consider the evidence.

Christ, the God-man, is in Heaven, at the right hand of God, interceding for people on Earth (Romans 8:34), which tells us there is at least one person who has died and gone to Heaven and is now praying for those on Earth.

Then in Revelation 6:10 we see martyrs in Heaven praying to God, asking Him to take specific action on earth. These are saints who have died and are now in God’s presence. They’re actively praying for God’s justice on earth for persecuted believers. It seems likely they’d also be interceding for other aspects of their suffering brethren’s welfare. (Their keen urgency about the justice of God demonstrates again we won’t be passive in Heaven—we’ll be far less tolerant of persecution and a hundred other evils.)

The saints in Heaven are just as much a part of the body of Christ as the saints on earth. (Ephesians 3:15 speaks of “his whole family in heaven and on earth”.) Their sense of connection and loyalty to their brethren logically would be enhanced in Heaven, not diminished, wouldn’t it?

There’s no indication in Scripture that we should pray for the dead. It would do no good to pray for them, since “it is appointed unto men once to die, and after this the judgment” (Hebrews 9:27). Once they die, there’s nothing that can be done to change the state of a believer or unbeliever.

The pertinent question is not “should we pray for the dead?” but “do the dead pray for us?” Revelation 5:8 speaks of the “prayers of the saints” in a context that could include the saints in Heaven. Prayer is simply talking to God. Angels talk to God, therefore angels pray. We will communicate with God in Heaven. That means we’ll pray in Heaven. Will we pray less or more? Given our enhanced righteousness, it seems that in heaven our prayers would be all the more “powerful and effective” (James 5:16).

If people in Heaven witness some of what transpires on earth—then it would seem strange for them not to intercede for those they observe.

It all boils down to assumptions. If we assume those in Heaven aren’t interested in earth—and they don’t observe or feel connected with people on earth—then we’ll conclude they aren’t praying for them. If, on other hand, we assume saints in Heaven observe and take interest in God’s program and people on earth, it stands to reason they would be interceding for their comrades still on the battlefield.

Since God and the angels are clearly concerned with earth, shouldn’t saints in Heaven be? And since Heaven is a place where saints talk to God, shouldn’t we assume that once we’re in Heaven we’ll pray to God for those on earth? Why wouldn’t we?

Questions about our loved ones remembering us or possibly praying for us are rooted in our desire to be assured that our relationship with them continues even though we ­can’t see them. But of that we can be certain. Though we naturally grieve the death of loved ones, we know that if they are believers, we will one day be reunited. As the apostle Paul writes, “We want you to know what will happen to the believers who have died so you will not grieve like people who have no hope. For since we believe that ­Jesus died and was raised to life again, we also believe that when ­Jesus returns, God will bring back with him the believers who have died” (1 Thessalonians 4:13-14, NLT). Their parting is not the end of our relationship with them, ­only an interruption. We have not “lost” them, because we know where they are. They are experiencing the joy of Christ’s presence in a place so wonderful that Christ called it paradise.

Father, cause the hearts of your people to rejoice that we will one day be with you and with our Savior, ­Jesus. We praise you also that we will be reunited with our friends and family who know you and have gone before us into your presence. Thank you that they remember us, as we remember them. Until we see them again, comfort us with the knowledge that even now we are not disconnected from them. We have not lost them, and they have not lost us, because we know where they are, and they know where we are. We look forward to our homecoming and the Great Reunion!

For more on eternity, browse Randy’s books on Heaven.

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Make It Your Ambition Not to Be Ambitious

Note from Randy: D.L. Moody wisely said, “Our greatest fear should not be of failure, but of succeeding at something that doesn't really matter.” As Chad Bird explains in this article, we need not be afraid of living an ordinary, normal, quiet life. Rather, we should fear building our lives around ambition and success, pursuing things that won’t matter eternally. May we remember that the ordinary, daily, and mundane acts of faithfulness and kindness that no one else knows are well-known by God. He is watching. He is keeping track. In Heaven He’ll reward us for our acts of faithfulness to Him, right down to every cup of cold water we’ve given to the needy in His name (Mark 9:41). The ordinary matters in light of eternity.  

The Joy of an Unaccomplished Life

By Chad Bird

We were finger-painting in kindergarten or riding our tricycle in the driveway when the seeds were sown into the soil of our young hearts. The songs on the radio fertilized them. TV shows watered them. And so they grew. They blossomed. They spread—these seeds called by names such as Greatness, Extraordinariness, Stand-out-ness, Accomplishment.

We’re small when we begin to absorb the imperatives that dominate our modern life: Be first. Be best. Be somebody. Stand out from the crowd. Rise above your peers. Carve out a name. Be anything but normal.

These desires are as American as apple pie. They’re orthodox exclamations in our national creed. “We dream as big as we want to,” Brooks and Dunn, the country duo, croons.

But all too often, such big dreams are even bigger nightmares: faith-smothering, hope-crushing, love-strangling assumptions concerning what being human is all about.

Failure of Success

I was 18 years old when I began a 20-year journey of getting lost in these dreams, lost in the fog of ambition and the quest for a happy life defined by trophy cases and framed diplomas. My grades had to outrank everyone else’s. My church had to out-orthodox, out-sing, out-tithe other churches. When I landed a position as a seminary professor, my classes had to outshine the others. I clawed my way to the top of the ecclesiological ladder. I earned a degree, then another, then still another.

In the end, I could quote from Augustine’s Confessions in Latin, Rabbi Oshaya from Bereshit Rabbah in Hebrew, and Luther’s catechism in German, but I had no clue what my daughter’s favorite stuffed animal was. In my accomplishments, I only succeeded to fail in the most important parts of life.

And in the aftermath I learned, in the university of the cross, the joy of an unaccomplished life. The happiness of being normal. The immeasurable contentment that comes from dreaming small.

Goodness of the Quiet Life

“Make it your ambition to lead a quiet life,” Paul writes (1 Thess. 4:11). Were he writing that epistle to an American congregation, instead of Thessalonica, he probably would’ve needed to buy an extra scroll just to expand on this verse. Make it your ambition not to be ambitious, the apostle says, tongue in cheek. Stand out by wearing the camouflage of humility. Dream big about living small. In other words, make it your ambition not to let personal glory bedazzle your bio, guide your relationships, declare your importance, or lead you in discerning where God is to be found. Make it your ambition not to drink that cultural Kool-Aid.

To lead a quiet life doesn’t mean we lower our expectations; it means we lower our eyes. We look beside us. We look around us. Rather than gaping upward at the next trophy we’ll win, the next raise we’ll earn, we look beside us at the people whom God has placed in our lives for us to serve. And we consider their interests, their needs, more significant than our own (Phil 2:3). We shift our gaze from the “next big thing” to all the little things we miss when we’re mesmerized by the idols of bigger, better, bolder.

At the same time, we lower our eyes to see God at work in the underwhelming simplicities of ordinary, daily life. Rather than looking up to the next awesome! electrifying! unbelievable! experience, we look down to find the Lord crawling through death’s shadowed valley with the brokenhearted. Scrubbing scum off his disciples’ feet. Emptying his veins on the soil where soldiers shoot dice. He is the Lord of the lowly. When it’s time to name the greatest in his kingdom, he crowns a little, vulnerable, dependent child. When it’s time to name the first, he exalts the last.

He hides himself beneath his opposite. All his clothing seems way too small, too constrictive, for his limitless frame, but he squeezes his presence into small spaces. His feast of grace fits in a wafer of bread. His world-creating voice in the dentured mouth of a graying preacher.

Christ isn’t out to impress us, but to give us his love that’s compressed into the most mundane things of the world.

Give Me That Same Old Religion

In The Screwtape Letters, the senior devil instructs Wormwood to “work on [the humans’] horror of the Same Old Thing.” That horror, he boasts, “is one of the most valuable passions we have produced in the human heart” (Letter XXV). That horror, however, is but a perversion of our joy. The Same Old Thing is the hangout of the Same Old God. The one who is the same yesterday, today, and a gazillion years hence. The one who sanctifies our same old lives with his same old love through his same old Spirit. Rather than panting after novelty for novelty’s sake, our Lord summons us to find him and our neighbor’s need in the unglorious and unawesome.

God’s glory, and our joy in that glory, is currently not glorious by worldly standards. It’s not found in big accomplishments but seemingly small gifts, like a full manger and an empty tomb. The brown-paper simplicities of life is how God packages our joy. A tiny baby. A crucified Messiah. A hungry neighbor. A needy child. In him, and in them, we learn that a full life is found by emptying ourselves in love, and being filled with love by the Savior who is found in the most unexpected of places.

Chad Bird is an author and Scholar in Residence for 1517. Follow him on Twitter @birdchadlouis.

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Putting God First Enhances Everything Beneath Him

In Eyes Wide Open, Steve DeWitt says, “Christians who properly place God as the source and goal of the things they enjoy will find themselves enjoying those things even more. In truth, the way we as believers relish created beauties ought to outstrip that of unbelievers, since we neither find our identity in them nor hold on to them as ultimate.”

Secondary happiness, which is found in something or someone God has created, ultimately leads back to Him. Have you ever pointed to something you want a child to see and then watched the child look at your finger instead of what you’re pointing at? The secondary only fulfills its purpose when people follow it to the primary.

The man who knows his wife is secondary to God can find great happiness in a relationship with her. In contrast, the man who makes his wife primary will be continuously disappointed because she can’t meet his deepest needs. Because he tries to make her into more than any human can be, both will suffer.

Robert Crofts wrote, “Let these earthly pleasures and felicities excite and encourage us to thankfulness, to all duties of virtue and piety, to look higher to their fountain, to God himself, to heaven, to love and enjoy in him, to contemplate his infinite goodness, love, beauty, sweetness, glory, and excellency.”

Paul said, “What is our hope, our joy, or the crown in which we will glory in the presence of our Lord Jesus when he comes? Is it not you? Indeed, you are our glory and joy” (1 Thessalonians 2:19-20, NIV).

But, wait—didn’t Paul know that God is our only joy? No, he knew that God is our primary joy. It’s fine for me to say that my children, my grandchildren, and my friends are joys if I remember that God made them and works through them to bring me happiness. They’re not lesser joys to me, but greater ones—precisely because I know whom these gifts come from!

In the movie The Avengers, Thor’s brother, the evil Loki, weary of the Incredible Hulk, says to him in a commanding voice, “Enough! . . . I am a god, you dull creature!” The Hulk, unimpressed, picks up Loki with one hand and gives him a merciless thrashing, pounding him into the ground. As he walks away, the Hulk turns back toward Loki, looking disgusted, and mutters, “Puny god.” Loki, utterly defeated, gives a pathetic little squeak.

All idols are not only false gods but also puny gods. The very gifts of God that can bring us great joy become dismally small when we make them primary. A couch that’s plenty big to sit on suddenly becomes tiny when you need someplace to land a plane. What’s big enough to bring us a little happiness from the hand of an infinitely big God isn’t nearly big enough to bear the weight of all our happiness. Only the true God is that big, and the larger we see Him, the bigger our happiness in Him.

Browse more resourceson the topic of happiness, and see Randy’s related books, including Happiness and  Does God Want Us to Be Happy?

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