Randy Alcorn's Blog, page 54

The Surprise Blessing of Suffering and Trials

Note from Randy: I appreciated this article by Jeremy Linneman, lead pastor of Trinity Community Church in Columbia, Missouri. He shares several quotes from J. I. Packer’s Knowing God, a book God has used in my life profoundly. It is still one of my top five books of all time.

J. I. Packer on the Surprise Blessing of Trials

By Jeremy Linneman

I remember where I was when I read these words by the late theologian J. I. Packer: “A certain type of ministry of the gospel is cruel. It doesn’t mean to be, but it is.”

What is the cruel sort of ministry Packer had in mind? His answer would haunt me.

I was going through a particularly hard season of depression and had been suffering from chronic illness. It was a season of trial and discouragement that had lasted far too long—or so I thought. I’d prayed. I’d talked with wise counselors. I’d prayed more. But this difficult season was unrelenting, and my spirit wasn’t lifting.

Then my friend recommended Packer’s Knowing God. I’d read it before, but he pointed me to a chapter late in the book called “These Inward Trials.” I reopened the classic, found the chapter, and began to read. That very night, my whole mindset toward pain and suffering began to change. (Some lessons can’t be learned until we’re ready.)

Packer’s reflections on the cruel teaching and its wonderful antidote helped me make sense of my season of hardship.

These Inward Trials

So, what is this cruel sort of gospel ministry? According to Packer, the cruel teaching is that becoming a Christian makes your life easier. It’s the idea that being a believer decreases your sinning, enables you to find your truest self and deepest calling, equips you to change the world, and means less overall suffering. We could summarize this unbiblical teaching as: Your Best Life Now!

The lopsided impression “which pictures the normal Christian life as trouble-free,” Packer writes, “is bound to lead sooner or later to bitter disillusionment.”

If there’s a phrase that encapsulates the spiritual condition of 20- and 30-somethings I’ve ministered among for the past decade and a half, it’s bitter disillusionment.

In the words of Fight Club’s Tyler Durden, we’ve been lied to our entire lives. I’m thinking mostly of us millennials and Gen Zers raised in middle-class America: we were raised on a steady diet of self-esteem; we’ve been graded on a generous curve; we’ve been told if we pursue our dreams, anything is possible. “You are going to change the world.” And then we become adults and discover life is hard, we’re not all that special, and this world is a vicious place.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer called this the “wish-dream.” He wrote Life Together in German, and for lack of a better word, his original English translators came up with the phrase “wish-dream.” The wish-dream is the ideal of life as we think it should be, a life of happiness, meaning, and satisfaction. It’s a life without pain, without setbacks, without conflict, without suffering.

We lay this wish-dream of the Christian life on others, unable to understand why they’re struggling in their spiritual lives. When we do face hardship, we’re shocked—we seek to blame others, make demands of God, or “spin” why it’s not so bad. A failed wish-dream is the breeding ground for self-pity. Our Christian communities can be broken down by the wish-dream, as we become disillusioned when it doesn’t come true in our friendships and church growth.

God’s grace speedily shatters our wish-dream so he might rebuild us around reality. In his grace (and it is sheer grace), God enables us to embrace the way of Jesus in a broken world.

Indeed, it’s cruel ministry to call believers back to their wish-dream and suggest that Jesus and the church will make it all possible after all. Christ does change everything, but it’s certainly not simple.

Packer continues:

God doesn’t make our circumstances notably easier [when we become Christians]; rather the reverse. Dissatisfaction recurs over wife, or husband, or parents, or in-laws, or children, or colleagues or neighbors. Temptations and bad habits which their conversion experience seemed to have banished for good reappear.

Thankfully, Scripture don’t leave us on our own when it comes to facing suffering.

Crucifying the Wish-Dream

Ecclesiastes, the Old Testament book that crucifies the wish-dream, says God “has set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end” (Eccles. 3:11, NIV).

Deep within us, a good and perfect life exists; yet we can’t understand what God is doing in actual history.

As Tim Keller has shown in Walking with God through Pain and Suffering, suffering is one of the main themes of the Bible. Genesis begins with an account of how evil and death came into the world. Exodus describes Israel’s oppression in Egypt and their 40 years in the wilderness, a time of trial and testing. The Psalms provide prayers for every situation in life, but the most frequent prayers are for help in need and comfort in suffering; its honest prayers describe the brutality of life and the injustice of suffering. Three Old Testament books—Job, Lamentations, Ecclesiastes—have suffering as their main theme. Two New Testament books—Hebrews and 1 Peter—focus on helping Christians face suffering, sorrows, and troubles. Most of all, the central Person of the Scriptures, Jesus Christ, is called the Man of Sorrows.

Suffering is a significant theme of the Scriptures, and it gives us a comprehensive view of pain and hardship. It’s not just a couple of quick platitudes we can use to comfort each other at funerals. The Bible doesn’t give us only happy endings; it’s not a 22-minute TV episode with a full resolution before the end credits.

It’s important to know what God has promised and what he hasn’t. We’re living in a broken world. God hasn’t promised freedom from suffering in this life.

Keller uses the fiery furnace of Daniel 3 as an illustration for how God uses suffering in our lives. Fire, of course, is a dangerous thing; it can be all-consuming, it can burn down a building, it can clear out an entire forest, and it can kill a person within moments.

But fire, when used in a controlled and wise way, is one of the great gifts of life. Fire can warm a home in the winter, refine a piece of metal, shape clay; it can be used to cook food—without fire there would be no barbecue. Fire, used rightly, doesn’t burn; it shapes, refines, prepares, purifies, and beautifies. Fire matures things.

Suffering, in the same way, is absolutely painful. It feels like death; we can hardly bear it. And yet if faced with faith and endured in the presence of God, suffering shapes us, refines us, prepares us, purifies us, beautifies us. Suffering matures people.

In the gospel, suffering takes evil and pain and turns it back on itself; through suffering we overcome evil and pain. Out of darkness comes light, and out of death comes new life.

In my own life story, I’ve suffered the loss of two of my three siblings. I developed insomnia, depression, and chronic pain after my brother’s death, and despite years of prayer and counseling, many of those symptoms remain locked in my body. God has brought profound healing and peace, but the scars still remain.

So, to go back to Packer: What is the purpose of these trials? Why have we been suffering through COVID for so long? And how do I bring my hurt—and my crucified wish-dream—before the Father?

Purpose of These Trials

Packer puts it like this: A good father doesn’t let his children go their own way—even when it’s costly, he leads them with mercy and wisdom. He allows his children to experience some of the world’s pain yet remains with them through it all.

This is God’s grace to us. Through suffering in a broken world (broken by us, not by God), he builds our character, strengthens our faith, and prepares us to serve and help others. His strength is revealed in our weakness. Packer writes:

How does God in grace accomplish this purpose [of maturing us]? Not by shielding us from assault by the world, the flesh and the devil, nor by protecting us from burdensome and frustrating circumstances . . . but rather by exposing us to all these things, so as to overwhelm us with a sense of our own inadequacy, he drives us to cling to him more closely. The Bible spends so much of its time reiterating that God is a strong rock, a firm defense, and a sure refuge and help for the weak to bring home to us that we are weak, [and must learn] to wait on the Lord.

As C. S. Lewis famously wrote: “God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our consciences, but shouts in our pain.”

This has been my experience. Other than perhaps daily time with the Lord in reading and prayer, nothing has changed me more than suffering. Nothing has brought me to the end of myself and rooted out self-confidence like suffering.

Do I think God forced me to suffer or took the lives of loved ones so I would learn a lesson? No. This world is cruel, God is good.

But he certainly allows us to live in this broken world without shielding us from its pains and afflictions, and he’s been more real to me in my tears and pain than in my laughter and peace. It’s by suffering that we learn patience, endurance, trust, and hope. These are virtues that are impossible to discover apart from pain and suffering.

Good News for Broken Souls

Ours is a world wrecked by sin, and brokenness is the default condition of our relationships, our work, and our bodies. Jesus’s redemption of his people comes not through plucking us out of this broken world; he enters our broken world, is born into poverty and hardship, and is called Man of Sorrows as he sets his face toward the cross. Our restoration to God depends on the brutal physical death of the King of the universe—and on his glorious physical resurrection.

As I wrote earlier, we need to know what God has promised and what he hasn’t. What’s not promised is this: A life free from pain and suffering. But what is promised?

He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away. He who was seated on the throne said, “I am making everything new!” (Rev. 21:4–5)

See, we have eternity set on our hearts because we were made for an eternal life without pain and suffering. That’s why it’s so foreign to us here. We were made for a world without suffering, and one day it will be ours.

Jesus’s sufferings remind us he is not unfamiliar with our trials—loss, grief, betrayal, abandonment, physical suffering, even death. But the Christian gospel reminds us Jesus moved through the ultimate suffering—bearing our sin and its penalty, death and separation from God—for us. He did this so that we won’t have to. Sure, we face a thousand inward trials. We’ll be subjected to frustrating and burdensome circumstances until he returns and makes all things new.

But we are not a people without hope. Our resurrected Lord offers us his presence now and the sure promise of resurrection and new creation later. These trials may indeed last, but they won’t have the last word. As Scotty Smith has said, “All death, all evil, all tears—they all have an expiration date.” These momentary sufferings are not for nothing; they are maturing us, making us like Christ. They are preparing for us eternal glory.

This article originally appeared on The Gospel Coalition , and is used with the author’s permission.

Photo by guille pozzi on Unsplash

Contentment Turns All It Touches to Gold

I’ve been finding treasures in emails that Nanci sent. For years she was part of a Moms in Touch group, praying with several friends for all their children, who are all now grown, many with children of their own. One of the members shared this quote:

“Content is the philosopher's stone which turns all it touches into gold; happy is he who has found it. Content is more than a kingdom, it is another word for happiness.” —C. H. Spurgeon

Nanci wrote this in response:

So, this quote is phenomenal! It is taken from “The Treasury of David,” a compilation of writings by Charles Spurgeon sent out to his church in London during the years of about 1870-1885. This particular quote is taken from Spurgeon’s study of Psalm 23, verse 5. Read the context of this quote:

“My cup runneth over.” He had not only enough, a cup full, but more than enough, a cup which overflowed. A poor man may say this as well as those in higher circumstances. "What, all this, and Jesus Christ too?" said a poor cottager as she broke a piece of bread and filled a glass with cold water. Whereas a man may be ever so wealthy, but if he be discontented his cup cannot run over; it is cracked and leaks. Content is the philosopher's stone which turns all it touches into gold; happy is he who has found it. Content is more than a kingdom, it is another word for happiness.

To explain: The philosopher’s stone was an unknown substance, also called “the tincture” or “the powder,” sought by alchemists for its supposed ability to transform base metals into precious ones, especially gold and silver. Alchemists also believed that an elixir of life could be derived from it. The philosopher’s stone was thought to cure illnesses, prolong life, and bring about spiritual revitalization. Obviously, Spurgeon did not believe in the philosopher’s stone, but he referred to it here as a means to clarify his point. To be content in one’s circumstances, while knowing Jesus as your Savior, is “more than a kingdom”! It changes everything into the “silver and gold” of God’s blessing. Yay, yay, yay!

Photo by Johnny McClung on Unsplash

Grasping the Truth of Romans 8:28 Will Change Our Perspective on Suffering

One of the most arresting statements in Scripture is this one: “And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose” (Romans 8:28, ESV). Different translations of this passage suggest different nuances: for those who love God, “all things work together for good” (ESV, KJV); “in all things God works for the good” (NIV); “God causes all things to work together for good” (NASB). In each case there’s an omni-inclusiveness in “all things.”

The context of this passage shows that in the midst of a world that groans under suffering and evil, God’s main concern is conforming His children to the image of Christ. And He works through the chal­lenging circumstances of our lives to help develop that Christlikeness in us. We can be assured that whatever difficulty He has allowed in our lives has been Father-filtered, through His fingers of wisdom and love.

Todd DuBord pastors Mt. Lassen Community Church in Chester, California. Todd and his wife Tracy become dear friends of Nanci’s and mine over the years, and in 2019, we did an interview for his church together about suffering. Todd recently did a sermon on how to think about suffering, and shared a clip of me talking about Romans 8:28 and why God allows us to experience suffering:

Perhaps the greatest test of whether we believe Romans 8:28 is to identify the very worst things that have happened to us, and then ask if we believe that, in the end, God will somehow, truly use them for our good. Do I actually believe that’s true of everything, including His decision to not heal Nanci and to not prevent her from dying from cancer? Yes, I actually do. So did Nanci and so does Nanci now, more than ever. My pain in missing her is great, but while our relationship has been interrupted, it absolutely has not ended.

A few mornings ago I read the wonderful interaction between Jesus and Martha, whose brother Lazarus had died. It spoke to my head and heart, and I hope it does to yours:

21 “Lord,” Martha said to Jesus, “if you had been here, my brother would not have died. 22 But I know that even now God will give you whatever you ask.”

23 Jesus said to her, “Your brother will rise again.”

24 Martha answered, “I know he will rise again in the resurrection at the last day.”

25 Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die; 26 and whoever lives by believing in me will never die. Do you believe this?”

Martha believed it, not understanding all it entailed. I too believe it today, three weeks since Nanci’s life ended in this present world under the Curse and began in a world that cannot be touched by sin and death. I believe it more than I ever have because for four years I had a front row seat in beholding how a faithful and loving God tenderly used my wife’s sufferings, which were sometimes intensely painful for both of us, to deepen her trust in Jesus and to increase her love for Him, and my love for Him and her. I feel like I have just seen a four-year miracle unfold. The pain is still raw, but the joy comes in waves to overwhelm it.

I can relate to the perspectives of Malcolm Muggeridge, who reflecting on his long life, wrote,  

Contrary to what might be expected, I look back on experiences that at the time seemed especially desolating and painful with particular satisfaction. Indeed, I can say with complete truthfulness that everything I have learned in my seventy-five years in this world, everything that has truly enhanced and enlightened my existence, has been through affliction and not through happiness, whether pursued or attained.

For more related to the subject of suffering, see Randy’s book  If God Is Good , as well as the devotional  90 Days of God’s Goodness  and book  The Goodness of God . 

Photo by Julian Hochgesang on Unsplash

Our Wounds and Christ’s

Note from Randy: There’s nothing I find more meaningful or satisfying to contemplate than Jesus Himself. In his new book Rich Wounds, David Mathis was written a warm, concise and celebratory treatment of the Jesus who is everything we need, and—may God use this book to help us realize—everything we want.

Hope you enjoy this excerpt from the book.

Because of how it helps me admire and marvel at Jesus, one of my favorite hymns has long been “Crown Him with Many Crowns” (Matthew Bridges, 1851). In my own life, it’s one of the few hymns that has been a common thread from one church to another. I have been singing it for forty years, since I was a child, then in college, then as an adult. Now, my kids know I love it and get my attention when the first bars begin in church. “Dad, it’s your favorite!”

Over the years, in singing this hymn with congregation after congregation, I’ve often been moved to tears of joy as I have pondered, even just vaguely, the great coronation ceremony in heaven, where the risen Christ, always fully God and now in full glorified humanity, takes his seat on the throne of the universe. I love how the hymn’s stanzas celebrate Christ, in turn, as Lord of love, Lord of life, Lord of light, Lord of heaven, Lord of years, Lord of lords. Even as phrase after phrase tells of his glory, the one that has arrested me most over the years is “rich wounds.”

Crown him the Lord of love!
Behold his hands and side—
Rich wounds, yet visible above,
In beauty glorified.

Rich wounds captures so well the strangeness and beauty—the peculiar glory—of Jesus Christ and his self-sacrifice at the cross for sinners. “Wounds,” of course, is no foreign word to modern ears. Today we speak with surprising frequency about “wounds:” not so much physical wounds as the emotional ones we’re newly aware of and attend to—the “daddy wound” of fatherlessness, the “wound” of harsh words against us, the “wounds” of some trauma that continues to haunt us. As a society, we’ve become freshly conscious of our wounds. We talk about them. We know them.

But as Christians we celebrate Jesus’s rich wounds. He was wounded for us: pierced for our transgressions, crushed for our iniquities. “Upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his wounds we are healed” (Isaiah 53:5). Jesus bore our griefs, our sorrows, our transgressions, our iniquities; he brought us peace; he healed us.

His wounds, horrific as they were when inflicted on the innocent Son of God, are indeed rich wounds, because he is God, and made us rich in becoming poor for us (2 Corinthians 8:9). They are wounds rich in meaning and significance: wounds that have not vanished on his resurrected body. They are still visible—gloriously so, as the hymn tells us.

“Rich wounds” flies as a banner over Jesus’s life and death and new life in the resurrection. First came his ability to be wounded, which he embraced by virtue of his becoming man and taking human flesh; then of course came the hand and foot and side wounds he endured in his death; and then, most significantly, came the scars which he now displays on his glorified body, celebrated in the hymn. “Rich wounds” not only brings to mind the cross and his death, not only the life and words and works that led him there, but also his resurrection: his exaltation to God’s right hand, his coronation as King of the universe, and his reign in heaven now. And “rich wounds” speaks to Christ’s ability to transform our wounds today, like his, into marks of beauty—wounds which are not without their pain, nor without subsequent glory.

Rich Wounds is available from Amazon and from WTS books.

Photo by Rey Proenza on Unsplash

Finding Resurrection Hope This Easter, and How Suffering Can Drive Us Deeper into God’s Love

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I always appreciate the thoughtful, biblical and Christ-centered insights of Tim Keller, and have recommended his books, messages, and online videos. 

In June 2020, Tim was diagnosed with Stage 4 pancreatic cancer. Last Sunday The New York Times published a interview with him, and he explained how the solid hope of the resurrection impacts his and Kathy’s lives (and his cancer). As I read, I thought about how Nanci and I would both agree 100% with what Keller says in answer to every question.

I’ll share a few excerpts, and you can read the whole thing here (and I hope you do).

When asked, “How has cancer and this encounter with your own mortality changed how you see your life and how you see death?” Tim answered:

On an emotional level, we really do deny the fact that we’re mortal and our time is limited. The day after my diagnosis, one of the words I put down in my journal was “focus.” What are the most important things for you to be spending your time doing? I had not been focused.

The second change was you realize that there’s one sense in which if you believe in God, it’s a mental abstraction. You believe with your head. I came to realize that the experiential side of my faith really needed to strengthen or I wasn’t going to be able to handle this.

It’s one thing to believe God loves you, another thing to actually feel his love. It’s one thing to believe he’s present with you. It’s another to actually experience his presence. So the two things I wrote down in my journal: one was focus and the other one was “Know the Lord.” My experience of his presence and his love was going to have to double, triple, quintuple or I wouldn’t make it.

Tim also said, about finding hope,

If the resurrection of Jesus Christ really happened, then ultimately, God is going to put everything right. Suffering is going to go away. Evil is going to go away. Death is going to go away. Aging is going to go away. Pancreatic cancer is going to go away. Now if the resurrection of Jesus Christ did not happen, then I guess all bets are off. But if it actually happened, then there’s all the hope in the world.

And reflecting on Jesus’ last week of earthly ministry and Easter, and how it impacts his own suffering, Tim said:

Holy Week gives you both death and resurrection. They don’t make any sense apart. You can’t have the joy of resurrection unless you’ve gone through a death, and death without resurrection is just hopeless. Essentially, the death/resurrection motif or pattern is absolutely at the heart of what it means to live a Christian life. And actually everything in life is like that. With any kind of suffering, if I respond to it by looking to God in faith, suffering drives me like a nail deeper into God’s love, which is what cancer has done for me.

I know Nanci would concur. She wrote in her journal in 2018, “Wow, have I had a fresh experience of God’s grace! Not only in His healing hand and answer to so many prayers; but primarily in His meeting my spiritual needs. God has given me a fresh experience of His grace. I have experienced Him in new and powerful ways. And He is good!”

Last fall she wrote, “Overwhelmed with joy and gratitude this morning for the great privilege of walking with my Savior toward Heaven. My God is here. His presence is all around and in me.”

In my book If God Is Good, I talked about how when we lock our eyes on our cancer, arthritis, fibromyalgia, diabetes, or disability, self-pity and bitterness can creep in. We can easily interpret all life through the darkness of our suffering. How much better when we focus upon Jesus! Tim and Nanci are wonderful examples of Christ-centered focus in suffering that bears much fruit.

This Easter weekend, may we celebrate the magnificent, cosmos-shaking victory of Christ’s physical resurrection, and the glorious and solid blood-bought assurance it has secured for us in our suffering.

Photo by Gin on Unsplash

What about Marriage and Family in Heaven?

One of the most common questions I’m asked is about family relationships in Heaven. Here’s what I wrote in 50 Days of Heaven:

When we receive our glorified bodies and relocate to the New Earth, it will culminate history, not erase it. And nothing will negate or minimize the fact that we were members of families here on Earth. My daughters will always be my daughters, though first and foremost they are God’s daughters. My grandchildren will always be my grandchildren. Heaven won’t be without families; it will be one big happy family, in which all family members are friends and all friends are family members. We’ll have family relationships with people who were our blood relatives on Earth, but we’ll also have family relationships with friends, both old and new.

Paul says to the Thessalonians, “You long to see us, just as we also long to see you. . . . How can we thank God enough for you in return for all the joy we have in the presence of our God because of you? Night and day we pray most earnestly that we may see you again” (3:6, 9-10). Paul finds joy in God’s presence because of other Christians. He anticipates the day “when our Lord Jesus comes with all his holy ones” (3:13). He looks forward to being with Jesus and His people.

When someone told Jesus that His mother and brothers were wanting to see Him, He replied, “My mother and brothers are those who hear God’s word and put it into practice” (Luke 8:19-21). Jesus was saying that devotion to God creates a bond that transcends biological family ties.

Jesus also said that those who follow Him will gain “brothers, sisters, mothers, children” (Mark 10:29-30). I think of this when I experience an immediate depth of relationship with a fellow Christian I’ve just met. If you weren’t able to have children on Earth or if you’ve been separated from your children, God will give you relationships, both now and later, that will meet your needs to guide, help, serve, and invest in others. If you’ve never had a parent you could trust, you’ll find trustworthy parents everywhere in Heaven, reminding you of your heavenly Father.

So will there be family in Heaven? Yes, there will be one great family—and none of us will ever be left out. Every time we see someone, it will be a family member! (Of course, we can be closer to some family members than to others, but there will be no rivalry or envy or grudges.) Many of us, myself included, treasure our families. But many others have endured a lifetime of broken hearts stemming from twisted family relationships. In Heaven, no one will cause anyone else pain. Our relationships will be rich and harmonious.

But what about marriage?

The Sadducees, who didn’t believe in the resurrection of the dead, tried to trick Jesus with a question about marriage in Heaven. Attempting to make Him look foolish, they told Him of a woman who had seven husbands who all died. They asked Him, “Now then, at the resurrection, whose wife will she be of the seven, since all of them were married to her?” (Matthew 22:28).

Christ replied, “At the resurrection people will neither marry nor be given in marriage; they will be like the angels in heaven” (Matthew 22:30).

There’s a great deal of misunderstanding about this passage. A woman wrote me, “I struggle with the idea that there won’t be marriage in Heaven. I believe I’ll really miss it.”

But the Bible does not teach there will be no marriage in Heaven. In fact, it makes it clear there will be marriage in Heaven. What it says is that there will be one marriage, between Christ and His bride—and we’ll all be part of it. Paul links human marriage to the higher reality it mirrors: “‘For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and the two will become one flesh.’ This is a profound mystery—but I am talking about Christ and the church” (Ephesians 5:31-32).

The one-flesh marital union is a signpost pointing to our relationship with Christ as our bridegroom. Once we reach the destination, however, the signpost becomes unnecessary. That one marriage—our marriage to Christ—will be so completely satisfying that even the most wonderful earthly marriage couldn’t be as fulfilling. Earthly marriage is a shadow, a copy, an echo, of the true and ultimate marriage. Once that ultimate marriage begins, at the Lamb’s wedding feast, all the human marriages that pointed to it will have served their noble purpose and will be assimilated into the one great marriage they foreshadowed. Drake W. Whitchurch writes, “The purpose of marriage is not to replace Heaven, but to prepare us for it.”

The joy of marriage in Heaven will be far greater because of the character and love of our bridegroom. I rejoice that Nanci and I will both be married to the most wonderful person in the universe. I fully expect that she will remain my closest friend besides Jesus Himself. And I expect other family relationships not to be lost, but to be deepened and enriched.

Thank you, Jesus, that you promise reunion with loved ones who have gone on ahead. Thank you that the best of relationships here will be so much better there, in a world where things will never again take a turn for the worse.

Photo by Austin Lowman on Unsplash

Come, Lord Jesus: The Prayer to End All Prayers

Note from Randy: This article by Marshall Segal, with reflections on the prayer “Come, Lord Jesus” is wonderful.

How grateful we are for God’s promise of resurrected bodies and renewed minds, with which we will be better able to glorify and enjoy Him forever. We aren’t ready yet to appreciate the eternity of wonders He has prepared for us. But some days, we feel like we can’t wait any longer. In His perfect timing, He will take us out of this fallen world, and bring us into His presence. And then, at the time He appointed, He’ll send His Son back to this earth triumphant, to set up His Kingdom. And He’ll give us what we do not deserve: resurrected minds and bodies in perfect communion with Him and our spiritual family. We long for the great banquet and the celebration that never ends. Come, Lord Jesus!

The Prayer to End All Prayers

By Marshall Segal

Amen. Come, Lord Jesus! (Revelation 22:20)

The last prayer in the Bible is also one of its shortest — and yet it’s layered with heartache and anticipation, with distress and hope, with agony and joy. Can you imagine the apostle John, the disciple whom Jesus loved (John 13:23), savoring those three words — “Come, Lord Jesus!” — while he was abandoned among criminals on the island of Patmos? Does the promise that Christ will come again ever feel sweeter than when life on earth feels harsh and unyielding?

It’s almost as if John tries to draw the risen Jesus out of heaven, praying with all his might. The barren, rocky ground beneath his knees was more than a prison; it was a model of the curse, twenty square miles overrun with the consequences of sin. Suffering does this. It opens our eyes wider to all that sin has ruined, just how much pain and havoc it has wrought in the world. And, in a strange way, suffering often awakens us to the promise of his coming.

Weakness and illness make us long all the more for new bodies. Prolonged relational conflict makes us long all the more for peace. Wars and hurricanes and earthquakes make us long all the more for safety. Our remaining sin makes us long all the more for sinlessness. “Come, Lord Jesus!” is the cry of someone who really expects a better world to come — and soon. Suffering only intensifies that longing and anticipation.

Many Prayers in One

The prayer “Come, Lord Jesus!” is really many prayers in one. What will happen when Christ finally returns? The opening verses of Revelation 21 tell us just how many of our prayers will be answered on that day.

Come, Lord Jesus, and dry our tears. Followers of Jesus are not spared sorrow in this life. In fact, following him often means more tears. Jesus himself warned us it would be so: “In the world you will have tribulation” (John 16:33). But one day, “He will wipe away every tear from their eyes” (Revelation 21:4). In that world, we will not have tribulation, or sorrow, or distress, or persecution, or danger. When he returns, we’ll never have another reason to cry.

Come, Lord Jesus, and put an end to our pain. Some long for the end of heartache; others feel the consequences of sin in their bodies. Pain has followed them like a shadow. Revelation 21:4 continues, “. . . neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore.” Can you imagine someone who has battled chronic pain for decades waking up one morning and feeling no more pain? It will be like a man who has never seen anything clearly finally putting on his first pair of glasses — except the sufferer will feel that sensation in every muscle and nerve. The absence of pain will free his senses to enjoy the world like never before.

Come, Lord Jesus, and put death to death. Jesus came to dethrone death. Hebrews 2:14–15 says, “Since therefore the children share in flesh and blood, he himself likewise partook of the same things, that through death he might destroy the one who has the power of death, that is, the devil, and deliver all those who through fear of death were subject to lifelong slavery.” Every one reading this article was once enslaved to the fear of death. But death lost its sting when the Son of God died. And one day, death itself will die. When the Author of life comes, “death shall be no more” (Revelation 21:4).

Come, Lord Jesus, and rid us of sin. This burden may be more subtle in these verses, but it would not have been subtle in John’s imagination. He writes in verse 3, “Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man.” And he knew that God cannot dwell with sin. For God to come and dwell with us, he will have to first eradicate the sin that remains in us — and that’s exactly what he promises to do. The sin that hides in every shadow and behind every corner will be suddenly extinct. He will throw every cause of sin into his fiery furnace (Matthew 13:41). “When he appears we shall be like him, because we shall see him as he is” (1 John 3:2).

Come, Lord Jesus, and make it all new. In other words, anything not included in the prayers above will be made right too. “Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth” (Revelation 21:1). Nothing here will go untouched. Whatever aspect of life on earth afflicts you most, it will be different. Whatever fears have plagued you, whatever trials have surprised you, whatever clouds have followed you, they all will be transformed — in the twinkling of an eye — and stripped of their threats. In the world to come, we will have nothing to fear, nothing to mourn, nothing to endure, nothing to confess. Can you imagine?

More than a prayer for relief, or safety, or healing, or even sinlessness, though, “Come, Lord Jesus!” is a prayer for him.

His Presence Is Paradise

The burning heart of John’s three-word plea is not for what Jesus does, but for who he is. This is clear throughout the book of Revelation. The world to come is a world to want because Jesus lives there. John’s prayer, after all — “Come, Lord Jesus!” — is a response to Jesus promising three times in the previous verses, “Behold, I am coming soon. . . . Behold, I am coming soon. . . . Surely I am coming soon” (Revelation 22:7, 12, 20).

While the apostle wasted away in prison, he could see the Bridegroom on the horizon (Revelation 1:12–16). His hair white, like snow. His eyes filled with fire. His feet, like burnished bronze. His face, like the sun shining in full strength. The man he had walked with, talked with, laughed with, and surely cried with, now fully glorified and ready to receive and rescue his bride, the church. The Treasure was no longer hidden in a field, but riding on the clouds.

Even the vision of the new heavens and new earth in Revelation 21 makes God himself the greatest prize of the world to come: “Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God” (Revelation 21:3). Yes, we want a world without grief, without pain, without fear, without death. But better to have a world like ours with God, than to have any other world without him. His presence defines paradise.

Read the rest of the article on Desiring God .

Photo by Luis Quintero from Pexels

Her Dad Gave Away Many Heaven Books, and His Own Well-Loved Copy Was Falling Apart

A reader, Tammy, sent me this touching message about her dad, and the pictures:

When my dad, Olen King, found out he had cancer and had only three months to live, my world was changed. He had started a home for boys 34 years ago and had a burden for helping them. Once he found out, he bought every book he could find on Heaven and read them. Until he read your book. He told hundreds of people that he met or witnessed to that when you are going on a trip you gather all the info, and study, and learn all you can! He was so ready for Heaven! God let him live 16 more years. He took his first breath of Heaven’s air in August.

He purchased close to 200 of your Heaven books and gave them to anyone he knew who has lost a loved one or was fixing to meet Jesus soon. I cannot tell you how many times he read that book along with this Bible. He gave all his kids a copy of the book but me....I got his!! The best gift he could have ever given me. It is falling apart and is marked and highlighted all through it. Thank you for following the Lord and the many hours of prayer and studying you put into it.

Tammy also wrote, “My dad was saved, loved the Lord, his Bible, family, and others. I know he is enjoying Heaven and being with Jesus. My heart is broken, but I KNOW I will be with him one day! …He ALWAYS had his Bible and was ready to share Heaven with anyone he met. …My dad always ended his conversations or when he wrote in the Heaven book to give to someone, ‘I’ll see you in our Father’s house.’”

As Charles Spurgeon put it, “A Bible that’s falling apart usually belongs to someone who isn’t.”

For the Believer, Death Is a Great Awakening

Death is like a great ocean, and we are on this shore seeing people depart. But every ocean has two shores, and every person we see depart is seen as arriving on that other shore. Death is not the end. Just as birth was our ticket to this world, so death is our ticket to the next. It is less of an end than a beginning.

If I told you today I would move you from the slums to a beautiful country estate, you would not focus on the life you were ending but the life you were beginning. Death, though a curse in itself, was also the only way out from under the Curse—and only because God had prepared a way to defeat death and restore mankind’s relationship with Him.

Hope you enjoy these reflections on what it will mean to leave this world of pain and suffering, and enter into Christ’s presence (drawn from my book Eternal Perspectives, now out of print but still available on Kindle):

“[Christ] must reign until he has put all his enemies under his feet. The last enemy to be destroyed is death.” —PAUL, 1 CORINTHIANS 15:25-26

“Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?” —PAUL, 1 CORINTHIANS 15:55

“By [Christ’s] death he might destroy him who holds the power of death—that is, the devil—and free those who all their lives were held in slavery by their fear of death.” —HEBREWS 2:14-15

“There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.” —JESUS, REVELATION 21:4

“May I view things in the mirror of eternity,
waiting for the coming of my Lord,
listening for the last trumpet call,
hastening unto the new heaven and earth. . . .
May I speak each word as if my last word,
and walk each step as my final one.
If my life should end today, let this be my best day.”

—The Valley of Vision: A Collection of Puritan Prayers and Devotions

“My knowledge of that life is small, The eye of faith is dim, But it’s enough that Christ knows all, And I shall be with him.” —Richard Baxter

“H. S. Laird’s father, a Christ-loving man, lay dying. His son sat at his bedside and asked, ‘Dad, how do you feel?’ His father replied: ‘Son, I feel like a little boy on Christmas Eve.’” —Jack MacArthur, adapted from Exploring in the Next World

“Soon you will read in the newspaper that I am dead. Don’t believe it for a moment. I will be more alive than ever before. . . . Earth recedes. . . . Heaven opens before me!” —D. L. Moody, on his deathbed

“I once scorned ev’ry fearful thought of death,
When it was but the end of pulse and breath,
But now my eyes have seen that past the pain
There is a world that’s waiting to be claimed.
Earthmaker, Holy, let me now depart,
For living’s such a temporary art.
And dying is but getting dressed for God,
Our graves are merely doorways cut in sod.”

—Calvin Miller, The Divine Symphony

“Oh, God, this is the end; for me the beginning of life.” —Dietrich Bonhoeffer, just before he was hanged by the Nazis

“Here in this world,
He bids us come;
there in the next,
He shall bid us welcome.”

—John Donne

“The gate of death is the gate of exit; the gate of Heaven is the gate of entrance; but these two are so close together that as the one shuts, the other opens. When a ripened saint was getting near the end of life’s journey, his friends said, ‘He is lying at the gate of death.’ He himself said, ‘I am lying at the gate of Heaven.’ Both were correct, for to the dying Christian the two gates are practically one.” —James Campbell, Heaven Opened

“Most people think we are in the land of the living on our way to the land of the dying. But actually, we are in the land of the dying on our way to the land of the living. . . . Death is a conjunction, not a period. . . . Death is a conjunction followed by a destination.” —Tony Evans, Tony Evans Speaks Out on Heaven and Hell

“Death. It is the most misunderstood part of life. It is not a great sleep but a great awakening. It is that moment when we awake, rub our eyes, and see things at last the way God has seen them all along.” —Ken Gire, Instructive Moments with the Savior

“We consider it strange that Christians claim to believe that heaven—being present with God—is so wonderful, and yet act as if going there were the greatest tragedy. We believe that death will someday be destroyed, but it is still a painful experience which all of us must face. We believe that some Christians may have idealistic views of deathbed rapture and be unprepared for this enemy’s grim violence. God has not promised His children an easy death or deathbed visions of glory. He has promised an open door beyond.” —Joseph Bayly, When a Child Dies

“When a Christian dies, it’s not a time to despair, but a time to trust. Just as the seed is buried and the material wrapping decomposes, so our fleshly body will be buried and will decompose. But just as the buried seed sprouts new life, so our body will blossom into a new body. As Jesus said, 'Unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains a single grain of wheat; but if it dies, it brings a good harvest' (John 12:24, Phillips).” —Max Lucado, When Christ Comes

“We have not lost our dear ones who have departed from this life, but have merely sent them ahead of us, so we also shall depart and shall come to that life where they will be more than ever dear as they will be better known to us, and where we shall love them without fear of parting.” —Augustine, letter to Lady Italica

 “Birth is such an excellent analogy for death. As surely as a newborn baby ‘dies’ from the womb-world into this world, so will our passing from life on Earth be a birth into another. . . . Babies do not cease to exist when they pass down the birth canal; they just don’t live in the womb any longer. The person in the womb becomes the person who lives in the world. The person in the world becomes the person who lives in Heaven.” —Daniel Brown, What the Bible Reveals about Heaven

“Sleep, like death, is a temporary experience and ends in a great awakening. I think the image of sleep is used for death so often in Scripture because sleep and death are both universal experiences. . . . When I’ve worked hard, I look forward to lying down in a refreshing sleep. I don’t fear sleep or try to avoid it; I embrace it. We close our eyes in anticipation of a new day. For the Christian, death is falling asleep to all we have known in this realm and waking up in Christ’s presence.” —Douglas Connelly, The Promise of Heaven

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

Photo by Ramon Kagie on Unsplash

What Will It Be Like to Step into Heaven and Come Face to Face with Jesus?

Many of you have asked about Nanci’s memorial service. It will be held Sunday, May 15 at 3:30 p.m. at our home church, Good Shepherd Community Church, 28986 SE Haley Rd, Boring, OR 97009. A live stream will be available, and the video will also be available at that web address after the service.

Thanks so much for your continued prayers for our family. We would also appreciate your prayers that the service will be honoring to Nanci and above all honoring to her beloved Jesus.

Contemplating Heaven is where my heart is at right now. In this excerpt from my novel Deception, I picture one of the characters entering Heaven:

One moment Carly Woods was awake in a world of pain. The next moment she felt herself falling to sleep. A rush of sound and light awakened her.

At first she thought she was walking through a glowing passageway. Then she realized she was being carried, effortlessly, in mighty arms.

Behind her was a ruined paradise, a wasteland waiting to be reclaimed. Ahead of her was a world of substance and light, overflowing with color. The place beckoned her to come dive into it, to lose herself and find herself in something greater than she’d ever known. In one moment, Carly Woods had moved from midnight to sunrise.

“Awesome!” she said.

“Yes,” said a deep, resonant voice above her. She turned and looked up at the rock-chiseled face of a great creature, a shining warrior, looking like a man, yet different. She’d never seen anything like him. Yet somehow she thought she’d known him for years. She sensed he was rescuing her, that his job was to carry the wounded to where they’d be made well.

“I am Tor-el, servant of Elyon, God Most High. I have served Him by watching over you each day of your life in the Shadowlands.”

“I never knew.”

“Elyon knew,” he said, the edges of his lips turning barely upward. “That is all that matters.”

She turned to look where she was going. With every step the warrior took, she saw more color, detail, and activity. She could taste and smell life. The place reached out to her, pulling her in, as a magnet pulls iron filings.

“I’m getting stronger,” Carly said, recognizing her voice, but realizing it was much fuller. She’d never liked the sound of her voice. Now she did.

“I thought my life was over. It feels like it’s just begun.”

The voice above her spoke again. “The end is behind you, little one. This is the beginning that has no end.”

People crowded against a beautiful white fence, reaching their arms toward her. She heard their applause and an enchanting laughter. The warrior put her down.

She turned and said, “Thank you, Tor-el. For everything. I... I’d like to talk more.”

“We will. There is much for you to discover in the new world and much to learn about what happened in that world. It will be my honor to guide you. But now is the time for celebration and greeting. Your welcoming committee awaits you.”

She ran toward the joy and leapt carelessly into it. The years of sickness had been but labor pains. Now she was being born into heaven.

Uncle Clarence’s father, smiling broadly, waved to her, beckoning her to come in. Standing next to him was a woman she’d seen only in pictures... Ruby Abernathy, Clarence’s mother.

“Carly!”

It was Uncle Finney, a voice she hadn’t heard in many years. She ran toward him and threw herself into his arms. They laughed. He whispered to her. Then they danced. And as they danced, Carly caught a glimpse of a young man she didn’t know but thought she should and next to him a woman so beautiful and vibrant that she felt unworthy to speak her name.

“Aunt Sharon?”

“We’ve been waiting for you, Carly,” she said. They hugged hard. And then Carly hugged her a second time, even tighter.

“That was from—”

“Ollie,” Sharon said. “I know, sweetheart. Thank you. But there’s someone else waiting to greet you.”

Sharon bowed her knees to the ground, and bright light shone on her face. All who were around her bowed too, eyes fixed behind Carly, who turned to behold the most beautiful sight she’d ever seen.

She saw the brightness of a billion galaxies, contained in one person. She beheld a man who was God, Creator of the Universe. His face was as young as a child’s, yet His eyes had seen all that had ever been and all that ever would be. This was God Himself. He put His hands upon her shoulders. She thrilled at His touch.

“Welcome, Carly, daughter of God!” He smiled broadly, the smile of a Galilean carpenter. “Well done, my good and faithful servant. Enter into your Master’s joy!”

He hugged her and she hugged Him back, realizing she’d felt this embrace before. She’d been sad not to marry a man on earth. But she knew now that this was her Bridegroom, the object of all her longing, the fulfillment of all her dreams. “My Jesus,” she whispered.

“My Carly,” He whispered back.

When the embrace ended, it continued, even as they stepped back to gaze upon each other.

He put out His hand to her face, and she saw on it a terrible scar. She stared at His other hand and at His feet. She fell to her knees, overcome.

He knelt beside her and looked into her eyes. She saw in Him an ancient pain that was the doorway to eternal pleasures.

“It was worth it, Carly,” He said. “For you, I would do it all again.”

Note from Eternal Perspective Ministries: The family asks that in lieu of flowers delivered to the Alcorn home, those who would like to give a gift in honor of Nanci consider giving to the memorial fund instead. To donate online click here (select the "Nanci Alcorn Memorial Fund”). If you wish to send a check, you can make it payable to Eternal Perspective Ministries and send to: 39065 Pioneer Blvd, Suite 100, Sandy, OR 97055. Be sure to write "Nanci" in the notation area.

Please direct questions related to the service to EPM.

Photo by Hassan OUAJBIR on Unsplash