Michael Kelley's Blog, page 32

Wednesday Links

Four links to some things you might have missed, or at least ones that caught my attention this past week:

1. Beware the Habits of Controversy

We are a people of outrage; perhaps a people addicted to outrage. If that’s so, then we should indeed beware seeking out controversy.

2. The Disaster and Delight of Social Media

57% of high school girls experience “persistent feelings of sadness or hopelessness.” And at least in part, social media is to blame. This is a helpful podcast for us to see how.

3. A Weeping Savior

Thank goodness Jesus knows how to weep. How could we follow Him otherwise?

4. Santa Clara University’s Cross Country Team Pics

Bless these guys for not taking themselves too seriously.

What Busyness and Laziness Have in Common

One of the first questions we tend to ask when we see someone that we haven’t seen for a while is this:

“So how are you?”

It’s admittedly sort of a perfunctory question, and so we shouldn’t be surprised when we get a perfunctory answer. Most of the time it’s something like this:

“Oh, fine. Fine.” But every once in a while, that “fine, fine” is followed up with another adjective that’s meant to sum up the general state of affairs in that person’s life. And more times than not, the next descriptor is this:

“You know… busy…”

And we are, aren’t we? We are busy with work. Busy with the kids. Busy with church. Busy with keeping up with our shows and listening to the podcast that we are supposed to listen to. We are a busy people. Even when we’re not really busy, we tend to think that we are, as if being busy is something to be proud of. As if it’s a mark of actual productivity and value.

Rarely will someone say the opposite:

“You know… lazy…”

Of course they wouldn’t, even if they are. Because if our measure of our worth and value is the packing of our calendars, then no one is going to own up to being lazy, because that is the very opposite of being a valuable and productive member of society. But what if busyness and laziness actually have more in common than we think they do? And what if being busy and being lazy are actually both the opposite of the way we are meant to live?

What, then, might busyness and laziness have in common when they seem to be such opposites? The answer is intentionality.

When you are busy, you are constantly running behind. Constantly shifting from this thing to that thing. Constantly in motion and always seeming like there are more tasks in the day than hours to complete them, and consequently, when you are busy you aren’t able to give the time and attention to the things you wish you could.

When you are lazy, you aren’t running behind; you aren’t running at all. Tasks, activities, and people just sort of pass you by, and you don’t take any initiative to go and engage them. So you sit and the world keeps spinning, and consequently, you don’t give the time and attention to the things that warrant it.

In both cases, whether we are busy or lazy, we are failing to move and act and give ourselves on purpose. And perhaps, then, intentionality is the antidote to both busyness and laziness. Consider this convicting verse found in Ephesians 5:15:

Look carefully then how you walk, not as unwise but as wise, making the best use of the time, because the days are evil.

Nuance is everything in this passage. Depending on how you read these words, you can either find yourself emboldened or shrunken back. The hinge seems to be on the word “carefully”.

Since it’s in the context of walking, I think about how I go to check on my kids after bedtime. We live in an older house, and it seems like at night the wooden floors creak with every step. So I creep through the playroom down the hall – being very careful how I walk – to try and keep the creaks from waking them up. The thing about my walk in that instance is that it’s a defensive carefulness – I’m careful with every footfall, like I’m walking on egg shells, because I don’t want to step in the wrong place.

But I don’t think the verse above is meant to cause us to watch every footfall, our head swiveling back and forth and sweat beading up on our foreheads to make sure we don’t step wrongly. It’s true, that some of the Christian life demands that, that we are careful where we go, what we see, and what we do to make sure we are avoiding sin. And sin is everywhere, because, as the verse says, the days are evil.

In the context above, however, it seems to be more of an offensive carefulness that Paul wanted to inspire. We are to be careful in order to make the best use of time – literally, redeeming the time. When you redeem something, you trade it in for something better. You “buy back” the time you have been given to use for good. In that sense, our head is swiveling around, but it’s not fear that motivates it. It’s anticipation. We look in every direction to make sure we’re not missing any chance to do good by way of the gospel.

We live intentionally.

And that intentionality can be robbed by either busyness or laziness if we aren’t careful.

One Word That Simplifies Discipleship

The closing of Matthew’s gospel is not just a tidy end to his book; these last few verses are the marching orders for the church:

The eleven disciples traveled to Galilee, to the mountain where Jesus had directed them. When they saw him, they worshiped, but some doubted. Jesus came near and said to them, “All authority has been given to me in heaven and on earth. Go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe everything I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age” (Matt. 28:16-20).

Here is one of those passages that, if we ever wonder what God’s will is for our lives, we can come back to again and again, for here is the answer. What does God want me to do? He wants me to go and make disciples. Just like He said.

And what does God want the church to do? Make disciples. Just like He said.

It’s no wonder, then, that the last 2,000 years have been filled with various philosophies, analyses, systems, and methodologies surrounding that task. There has already been much proverbial ink spilled on the subject of discipleship – some of it by me – and yet there will still be more. And there should be, because this is the work God has given us to do. Make disciples.

It’s into the tangle of already present analogies, systems, and methodologies that I toss one more word that will help us understand not only the nature, but also the process of Jesus’ great commission to us:

Illumination.

The word has a sort of mystical quality, doesn’t it? But, at least in this context, there’s nothing really mystical about it at all. To see that, let’s return to the definition of the root word:

Illuminate.

To illuminate is to make visible or bright by shining light on; help clarify or explain.

And in a sense, this is what we are really doing when we disciple someone else. We are bringing light to and clarifying or explaining the work God is already doing in that person. To take it a step further and to see why this word fits so well, we need to embrace a few principles:

Principle 1: God is at work in His children all the time.

Romans 8:28 reminds us that in all things God is working for the good of those who love Him. We tend to think of the “work” in this verse as circumstantial – that is, God is engineering the circumstances around us – even the painful ones – for our good, making us more like Jesus. But God is not only at work around us; He is at work in us. Which brings us to principle 2…

Principle 2: We are often blind to God’s slow but steady work.

Though God is at work within us, we are often unaware of it because it is incremental. It’s slow. But it’s steady. But because of its slowness, we often can’t see it ourselves; from our perspective, we are struggling with the same things and can seem to be stuck in the mud in our spiritual progress.

Principle 3: We need others to point out that work in us.

Because we are blind to God’s work in us, we need others to step in and point out what we can’t see for ourselves. We need people with an outside perspective to specifically and regularly point out what they see God doing in our lives to make us more like Jesus. When that happens, our resolve, faith, and perseverance are fueled because we come to see that progress is indeed being made.

This is the work of illumination. This is the work of discipleship. It’s not that we are causing people to grow in Christ; how could we? We can’t even manufacture that growth in ourselves, much less someone else. What we can do, however, is bear witness of the work of God in someone else’s life.

When we see discipleship like this, it starts to demystify the process. Further, it helps us see that anyone – everyone – can be a disciple-maker. We can all help each other see and embrace the work of God in and through us as we more together toward Christlikeness. Discipleship is about illumination. And any of us can help bring the light.

The Main Reason We Fail to Delight in the Lord

Take delight in the Lord,
    and he will give you the desires of your heart (Psalm 37:4).

For most of us, this is an aspirational verse. Yes, we have had moments of excitement – even elatement – in the Lord, but is our general posture one of delighting in Him? Probably not. We would like it to be, but the reality is at least a little bit different.

It’s not that God is not “delightful” enough. We know that He is, with all His power, creativity, love, grace, mercy, and everything else. He has brought us into His family, adopted us and given us an eternal inheritance in Jesus. He has ordered our steps with providential love and care. Surely there is more than enough for us to delight in.

So why don’t we?

What if the answer to that question – of why we fail to delight in the Lord – is incredibly simple? What if the main reason we fail to delight in the Lord is because we haven’t tried to do so? 

Maybe a little illustration to help.

My parents will tell you that until roughly the age of 18, I did not eat a vegetable unless it was slathered with cheese sauce or wrapped in bacon. I don’t think that’s particularly unusual, nor do i think it’s unusual that around that age I did indeed not only start eating veggies, but actually began to like them. Tastes change over time.

I have not always liked coffee. Now I’m on my second cup of the day as I write this.

I have not always like sushi. Now I like California rolls (I know I still have room for growth here).

I still don’t like curry, but my wife is hopeful there is still time.

What do all these things have in common? At least for me, they all began with a conscious choice. I chose to eat vegetables not because I delighted in them but because they were good for me. I chose to drink coffee not because I delighted in it but because I thought it was a drink adults should drink in the morning. I chose to eat sushi not because I delighted in it but because my family enjoyed it.

In all these instances, “delight” wasn’t the beginning; it was the end. The choice preceded the delight. And what if the same thing is true about God? What if delight in the Lord is something you grow into, but that growth is begun by a series of choices?

If that’s true, then the beginning of delighting in the Lord is not an emotion, but rather making the conscious choice of communing with God. The beginning is a commitment to more time in His Word. More time in prayer. More time in reflective silence as you consider His promises. And, of course, the flipside is also true. That along with making those choices you believe will lead to delight, you also start to make choices to cease delighting in other things. 

And slowly, over time, delight is cultivated. It is grown. It is nurtured. Perhaps this is the way – that the longer we choose to delight in the Lord, the greater our delight will actually be. 

—–

This post originally appeared at thinke.org.

Wednesday Links

Four links to some things you might have missed, or at least ones that caught my attention this past week:

1. I Messed Up With My Kids’ Technology

Surely we’ve all felt this – but this is a hopeful article. It’s never too late to come back, but it will take intentionality.

2. Parenting Adult Children

Some good lessons here, and if you’re not there yet, a reminder to start preparing now.

3. Why Difficult Conversations Are Getting More Difficult

They certainly are, given the amount of general angst around us right now. This article helps us pop the hood a bit and see why that is.

4. Top 10 Moments of the 2021 MLB Post-Season

Now that we are into postseason baseball, here’s a look back at last year.

Ask the 2nd Question

Why do we ask questions?

A number of reasons. We ask questions because we are seeking information – we don’t know an answer, and we think that the person we are asking does, so we ask. We also ask questions as a means of intimacy – we aren’t particularly interested in information, we are interested in a person, and so we ask them questions about themselves. We also ask questions as a means of understanding. We know the information, but we don’t understand someone’s perspective or thought process or feelings, so we are seeking further clarity.

That’s why we ask questions – but what question do we ask?

This is where creativity comes into play, because there is an art to asking a good question. A good question is one that requires thought, but not too much thought; one that is able to be answered, but also requires some level of thoughtfulness; and a really good question has a measure of knowledge associated with it. For example, the question of “How are you?” is very different than the question, “How are you after Tuesday?” The second one indicates a level of knowledge about what happened on Tuesday, and also a level of knowledge that whatever happened was significant enough to cause some kind of reaction.

So yes, there is an art to asking good questions whether they are questions to your spouse, your kids, your friends, or even a stranger you are just getting to know.

And while there is an art to asking good questions, there is power in asking the second questions. What is the second question?

It’s just that – it’s the follow up question you ask after you’ve already asked one. It’s the quest for further elaboration; further disclosure; further intimacy. And the second question is the one in which you demonstrate that you actually care about the answer to the first question, and further, that you were actually listening to the answer given. Consider the following scenario by way of example:

Let’s say that someone you know has recently had a doctor’s appointment in which they might or might not have received some life-changing news about their health. So you ask them:

“What did the doctor say?”

“It’s not good,” comes the response. “Turns out it’s malignant. I start treatment in a week.”

Here is where you have a choice to make. On the one hand, you got what you came for. You have the information you sought. And you could say something like this in response:

“I’m sorry to hear that. I want you to know I’m praying for you.”

Now that is certainly a worthwhile response. Your friend needs, and will appreciate, your prayers. But what if instead, you pressed further in and asked the second question:

“My goodness. So how do you feel about that?”

Simple question, but that simple, second question is also an invitation. It’s an invitation to move closer together. It’s an invitation to a greater level of investment and compassion. There is great power in asking it.

Here’s another example, one that every parent is familiar with:

“Hey, buddy – how was school today?”

“Pretty good.”

And here again you have a choice. On the one hand, you can stop at the first question. But if you knew there was a test that day or that there was some kind of angst in the friend group or some other anxiety, then you have the chance to ask another one. A deeper one. A more probing one. And again, this is where the true power lies.

So why don’t we ask the second question more often? Perhaps it’s because we intuitively know that the first question costs us very little. But the second question raises the ante. It puts more of our emotion, or time, or resources on the table. And that’s why asking the second question takes a measure of courage and sacrifice on our part.

But it’s worth it. The people in our lives are worth it. The God, whose compassions never fail and who we represent, is worth it. So let’s ask one more question. Let’s embrace the cost and go one step further.

(I’m grateful for Dr. Charles Smith from Midwestern Baptist Theological Seminary who proposed this idea in a doctoral seminar I participated in last week.)

Desert Time is Not Wasted Time

When you combine Exodus 2, Hebrews 11, and Acts 7, you get some more facts about one of the pivotal figures in biblical history – Moses. What you find is that Moses was raised in privilege as a prince of Egypt, but that he also had some knowledge about who his people were. He understood he was a Hebrew. And it’s reasonable to assume that he also had at least an inkling at least about what God’s plan was for him – that he was to be a great deliverer.

So in Exodus 2, you find Moses taking his destiny into his own hands. He was supposed to be the deliverer, so he decided to start delivering, and he killed an Egyptian slave-master. That act forced Moses into the wilderness, the desert of Midian to be more precise, and there he stayed for 40 years.

40 years.

That’s a long time. In our own context, 40 years ago humanity had little concept of the personal computer, much less the internet. The first cases of AIDS had just been reported. There was still a wall separating Germany into two parts and the world was wondering just how Luke Skywalker would deal with the revelation that Darth Vader was his father.

Moses was a shepherd, in the desert, for 40 years. He went from being the prince of Egypt and a revolutionary with a dream to a nobody. But here’s what’s encouraging to me about that. During those 40 years, I’m sure Moses had a lot of questions. He had a lot of doubts. He had a lot of humility thrust upon him. And while he may have felt like he was doing nothing with his life, God was busy. And I believe God was busy in at least 2 ways – one outside, and one inside.

In the outside, God was busy preparing Moses to know what life was like in the desert, which would come in pretty handy when he spent the NEXT 40 years of life wandering around there. The stuff he learned about finding water, sleeping arrangements, wildlife, plant life – you name it – would be invaluable. Moses had no clue he was learning all this, but he was.

On the inside, God was also busy. He was busy helping Moses become the sort of person would could walk into the court of the most powerful man in the known world and say “Let my people go.” He was preparing him to be the kind of person who could deal with the impatience and bellyaching of a newly liberated people. He was preparing him to be someone who knew what it was like to depend on the work of God and walk deeply with Him. And Moses didn’t even know it. He was becoming someone in the desert, and he thought he was just herding sheep.

The same thing is often true for us. We walk in and out of circumstances, make decisions and deal with the decisions of others, and learn how to live in plenty and in want. In the midst of it all, we don’t fully understand exactly what is happening to us, much less what we are learning and who we are becoming. And yet we are. We are because God is not a waster of circumstances. In fact, some of the most dry experiences of our lives – our own years in the desert – are also the most shaping.

God is busy. He’s busy in the palace, and He’s busy in the desert. Perhaps there is a lesson there for us. Namely, that in our desert moments, we should pause for a moment and consider that perhaps there is yet still value in the desert. Though it might look like we are going nowhere and doing nothing, God is still busy in and through us and in and through the world. Perhaps with a little reflection, then, we might strive less to escape the desert and instead focus our eyes on the God who never stops His work.

3 Reasons We Don’t Take Jesus’ Command to Love Our Enemies Seriously

Much has been written in the last several years about the culture of an organization, and a leader’s importance in forming that culture. If you start down the rabbit hole of that kind of reading, you’ll find all kinds of articles, books, and podcasts about developing a mission statement, defining core values, and clarifying purpose. 

What you’ll also find is the ready acknowledgment from experts that the majority of those companies don’t follow through on those things after they’ve done the hard work of articulating them. What usually ends up happening is that a leadership team articulates the “core values” of an organization, distributes them to employees, makes a few posters to hang up, prints a t-shirt… and that’s it. 

The organization might be able to repeat these core values, but they certainly don’t live by them. They don’t guide their decisions or spending. They don’t evaluate their work according to them. They’re just, in the end, some clever statements hung on the wall. 

Surely there are also many commands from Jesus that function just like that – we have heard them; we can repeat them; but we certainly don’t live by them. Not really. We find one such command in Matthew 5:43-45:

“You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your Father in heaven. He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous.”

Why don’t we take this command to love our enemies seriously? Perhaps three reasons:

1. Because we don’t think we actually have enemies.

“Enemy” is a harsh word, especially in a culture whose chief virtue is tolerance. We want to be nice people, and we want people to be nice to us. To say, then, that we should “love our enemies” seems a little antiquated and outdated. 

But perhaps we need to broaden our definition just a bit. Just as Jesus won’t let us settle for the minimum as we seek to answer the question, “Who is your neighbor?” surely He won’t allow us the same luxury in answering the question, “Who is my enemy?” In light of that, then our enemies really become those upon whom we wish harm.

Through that lens, we really should think more carefully about the claim that we don’t have enemies, because there are certainly people who we might not outright confront or fight, but those in whose failures and shame we will revel.

2. Because we see our case as a special circumstance.

We are “yeah, but” kind of people. We see signs prohibiting food and drink, and we think Yeah, but… We come to a stall in traffic as people are waiting in line for an exist, and we think Yeah, but… We see that a form must be filled out for this thing or that, and we think Yeah, but…

We love to think of ourselves as exceptions, and when it comes to loving our enemies, we do the same thing. We read this command from Jesus, and we justify our hatred by claiming that we have been hurt too deeply, betrayed too profoundly, or lost too much. Another reason we fail to take this command seriously is because we think of our specific case as the loophole.

3. We find comfort in our hatred.

One final reason we fail to take Jesus’ command seriously is simply because we don’t want to. And we don’t want to because we actually find comfort in our hatred. In an unhealthy, strange, and non-productive way, we draw strength and energy from that hatred. It fuels us.

Because it does, we simply cannot let it go, much less do the opposite of it. We hang onto the hatred because we enjoy it.

So what do we do? What do we do when we recognize that we do actually have enemies, that we aren’t a special exemption, and that we actually enjoy hating others? Perhaps the beginning point is to simply acknowledge that fact to Jesus. We own it, trusting that He is merciful and full of grace and will forgive us.

And then we begin to pray for that other person. We pray for their well-being. We pray for their blessing. We pray for their health or safety or growth. We pray, and the longer we pray, we find that it’s very hard to hate the person that you are bringing to God’s throne on a daily basis.

—–

This post originally appeared at thinke.org.

3 Characteristics of “the Grownup in the Room”, and Why Christians Always Should Be One

If you’re a parent, you know the feeling of being in a different part of the house, and hearing the shenanigans start up. It sounds like a little sarcasm, then a slightly raised voice, then an escalation… and there you sit, wondering when is the right time for you to step in. Because you’re probably going to have to at some point.

Eventually you do, and when you enter the room in question, you might find virtually anything there. Broken bones. Destroyed toys. Dogs and cats living together. You know the drill. Now as a parent, it’s part of your job not to be sucked into the drama, but instead to live above it, and to help de-escalate the situation with your children and bring the whole thing to some reasonable conclusion.

You are, in other words, supposed to be “the grownup in the room.”

I wonder if the same phrase might be used for Christians? Perhaps so – that one of our roles, as ambassadors of another kingdom with a different set of values and aspirations, is to step into various rooms and be “the adult.” But what does that mean?

Well, when it comes to your children, you only have to have just a little more sense; a little more wisdom; a little more size; or a little more authority than everyone else. But if we were to apply that phrase to Christians in every other area of life, it means something a bit different. When you begin to think about what characterizes the grownup in the room, certain characteristics come to mind, and I would propose that Christians are uniquely able and even called to embody those characteristics. Here are three of them:

1. Calm.

The grownup in the room is calm. He or she is able to step into the middle of chaos, and stand apart from it. That’s not to say they shrink back from it; they do not. They actually engage, but they do so in a measured, reasonable, but determined way. And their manner is helpful in doing it – not loud; not argumentative; a degree of patience; these are all characteristics of a person of calm, and these are precisely the things that a moment of chaos needs – it’s people who refused to be sucked into the fray, but instead those who are able to bring a semblance of order to it by their very presence.

2. Decisiveness.

The grownup in the room is also decisive. Often, this is what needs to happen in moments of confusion or panic or anger – someone simply has to make a choice, even if it isn’t the perfect one.

I’m reminded of this quote from General Patton: “A good plan violently executed now is better than a perfect plan executed next week.” A decisive person doesn’t want to have all of the questions answered, because that kind of person knows that often the best solution for all the conflict and confusion and chaos is movement. Decision. To stop talking so much and start acting. This is what the grownup in the room does – they provide clear and solid direction, and then adjust as needed going forward.

3. Assessment.

The grownup in the room is also able to quickly step into what seems to be a very complicated situation and quickly assess what’s really going on. Why are feelings really hurt? What is at the core of this conflict? What is actually making people so upset?

This is important because the vast majority of the time what appears to be the source of conflict and chaos is not actually the source of conflict and chaos. The adult in the room is able to look deeper, and in so doing, to refused to be sucked into petty symptoms. The grownup is able to shift the focus appropriately and help others do the same through their assessing of the situation.

Calm. Decisiveness. Assessment. These are three characteristics of the grownup in the room. But why is that call given to Christians? And why are Christians uniquely able to do this, whether in the home, the church, or in any other area of leadership and influence?

It’s because we, as Christians, have an unshakable source of personal security. We don’t need to prove anything to anyone:

Since, then, you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on things above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things. For you died, and your life is now hidden with Christ in God (Col. 3:1-3).

Our identity and confidence is rooted in Jesus, and because it is, we can live with a certain aloofness to everyday situations. That is, we can calmly, objectively, and decisively assess situations without feeling personally attacked because our lives are hidden – safe – with Christ in God.

In this way, Christians can be an ongoing gift to the people they interact with. And in this way, they are constantly testifying to the securing nature of the gospel.

3 Bible Passages If You Woke Up Discouraged This Morning

There are days, aren’t there? Days when it’s just hard to get out of bed. Days when the world, and your eyelids, just feel heavy. Days when you know it’s going to take a measure of effort to muster the courage to put one foot in front of the other. Surely, on days like that, the Bible has something to say to us. Some truth – some promise – some encouragement – for the days when we wake up discouraged.

Of course it does. Many things, actually. And while all are encouraging, these passages are particularly encouraging to us if we can isolate the reason why we are feeling discouraged. In light of that, here are three Bible passages for the discouraged, each one centered upon a particular reason for the discouragement:

1. For those discouraged with the world…

Let’s start at the broadest category. Sometimes we simply are just discouraged at the world around us. We look at the conflict, at the virtues, at the changing morality – and it’s easy to become discouraged. It can feel, based on a cursory glance at the news, that we are in a world with no one at the wheel. That things are spinning out of control and every day is a little more complicated and off kilter than the last one. There is a Bible passage for you if you’re feeling that kind if discouragement:

Therefore God exalted him to the highest place

    and gave him the name that is above every name,

that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow,

    in heaven and on earth and under the earth,

and every tongue acknowledge that Jesus Christ is Lord,

    to the glory of God the Father (Phil. 2:9-11).

These verses conclude one of the most compact descriptions of who Jesus is in the entire Bible. In these verses, we find a picture of the future. And that’s what this is – this is not a “maybe yes, maybe no” kind of passage. It’s a promise. 

If you’re discouraged at the state of the world, then remember that Jesus has already been exalted to the highest place. That He has already been given the name above every name. And that someday, every single human being will acknowledge the reality of His kingship. It’s just a matter of time.

2. For those discouraged with their particular circumstances…

Maybe you are not particularly discouraged by the overall state of the world, but there is some specific circumstance – a relationship, a job situation, a question of resources – that is causing you angst. There is a Bible passage that deals with that as well:

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. For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do (Eph. 2:8-10).

This passage is a reminder of the great intentionality of God. When we encounter personal circumstances that cause us discouragement, one of the most helpful things to remember is that we aren’t in that situation by accident. We are where God wants us to be, even though it might be painful.

We find this intentionality in the fact that God has not only saved us by His grace, but that He has planned out good works for us to (literally) “walk in.” That means in the midst of what is causing us discouragement, there is good for us to do. That is an encouraging thought because it means that even if we are discouraged, we are not wasting our time.

3. For those discouraged in general…

And then there’s the kind of discouragement that you can’t pinpoint. It’s when everything seems to just be piling up ontop of you, and if you had to give a name to the source of your discouragement, the only word that seems to fit is “everything.” What might the Bible have to say about that? A beautifully simple word:

Humble yourselves, therefore, under God’s mighty hand, that he may lift you up in due time. 7 Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you (1 Peter 5:7-8).

The posture of humility acknowledges that there are a lot of things – most things, in fact – that we cannot fix. But the Christian’s attitude of helplessness in the face of these things does not stop with that acknowledgment – it goes further as God invites us, in light of our own helplessness, to cast our cares upon Him. Because He loves us.

If everything just seems too much, we can be encouraged in knowing that when we have at last come to the end of our rope, God’s shoulders are very broad. He is strong enough to bear the weight of our anxiety and cares.

Friends, these are not “magic bullets.” But they are statements of truth. Further, they are not things to simply be read once, but rather to be soaked in. Marinated in. Internalized. And as we do, we find that the true encouragement we need at a soul level.

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This post originally appeared at thinke.org.