Saturday, July 19, 2008

What do you ask for from God?

David sought after one thing. In the midst of difficult days, he asked for the privilege and blessing of dwelling in the house of the Lord. He desired to walk with God and to gaze upon the beauty of the Lord. He put this amazing thought into words in the twenty-seventh Psalm.

One thing I ask of the LORD,
this is what I seek:
that I may dwell in the house of the LORD
all the days of my life,
to gaze upon the beauty of the LORD
and to seek him in his temple.

Notice that David doesn’t seem to be asking for something in the sweet by-and-by. He’s clearly asking for favor from the Lord in the nasty here-and-now. In the middle of heartache, trials, attacks and setbacks, David is asking for an audience with the LORD.

Where do you go when your world falls apart? The Christian life isn’t meant to be lived in a stained-glass cathedral. It’s meant to be lived in the heat of battle, heartache and even despair. The LORD delights to dwell with us in the midst of trouble because He knows others are watching Him with us.
We all need quiet, reverent places to be still and know that He is God. However, we live in a world of noise, conflict and battle. When you read the rest of the Psalm, you realize David is in the thick of tangled difficulty. Yet in the sweltering heat of trials his focus is to remain in the LORD's house.

And the LORD has a big house. A woman who had six children was asked how she could possibly love all six equally. She quickly responded, "Each time the LORD gave me another child I added a room onto my heart. Each child has a very special place to live within my heart." That’s a great perspective. How can the God of billions of people ever love and care for some insignificant child like me? The answer that “He is infinite” hits the head but misses the heart. Our God's heart simply and profoundly added a room the day He thought of you. The Lord is preparing a place for you, yet there is—here and now—a place in the great heart of God for you to be His special child. We know He has no favorites—but you can sure be one of His intimates.

David clearly felt an intimacy with the Lord as he asked to dwell with Him all the days of his life. Resist the temptation to run to empty places for comfort. Run to the LORD! Ask one thing of Him, seek one thing from Him—the blessing of living this day with Him, wherever this day finds you. Aware of Him, dependent upon Him and obedient to Him. Expect to see God moving in mysterious ways today. Expect to look back upon this day in amazement.

David then concludes thus:

I am still confident of this:
I will see the goodness of the LORD
in the land of the living.

Today I choose to seek the goodness of the LORD in the land of the living. Death has touched me with chilling reality, yet I am alive in Christ, and I see His goodness in the land of the living. Praise the Lord!

Ed Litton

Wednesday, July 09, 2008

The Aloneness of Loneliness

Most of us are intimidated by loneliness to the point we’ll do almost anything to avoid being alone. We leave the television on when we're not watching, the radio while we work, the iPod while we exercise. We seem intimidated by quiet because it reminds us we are alone.

Aloneness is painful and intimidating. It causes us to feel forgotten or abandoned. And the worst and most painful reality for some is that we assume God has abandoned us. His silence is terrifying and makes our worst fear seem to become reality. We feel rejected by everyone.

In my own loneliness I have come to discover some things. Loneliness is God's workbench where the master craftsman does His most brilliant work alone. Most of us remain unaware that God is doing anything in our lives until the work is done. He seems to delight in doing His work this way. He must love surprises.

The Apostle Paul spent extended time with God in this desert called aloneness. Years passed as Moses languished in obscurity while God sanded a rough man into a mighty messenger of God. David was forced to live in a lonely places miles from anyone he knew or loved. Even Hagar, the young servant of Sarah, found herself in a desperate and lonely place.

After Abraham and Sarah foolishly attempted to use another human being to satisfy their desire for a child, they rejected her as unworthy of their company. Hagar the handmaiden became for them little more than a means to an end. In the midst of that painful reality, Hagar fled her mistress. Gen. 16:8 tells us the Angel of the Lord came and found her. “And he said, ‘Hagar, servant of Sarai, where have you come from, and where are you going?’ ‘I’m running away from my mistress Sarai,’ she answered.” Hagar's cure for the deep pain of loneliness, rejection and abuse is interesting. It was to run into greater loneliness. Often our reaction to our loneliness leads to more of the same—only more intense.

Then God revealed Himself to Hagar in that lonely desert place. The experience was so real and so powerful that she offers all the world a new insight to the character and nature of our God. Notice what she says: “She gave this name to the LORD who spoke to her: ‘You are the God who sees me,’ for she said, ‘I have now seen the One who sees me’” (Gen. 16:13). He is the God who sees me. What a revelation. God sees me. In a world of more than five billion people, God can and does see me in my aloneness. God sees you and knows the intimate and intimidating details of your aloneness. The truth is that even in the most lonely place you are never alone. God revealed Himself in the advent of our Savior and His Son as Immanuel, "God with us." We are never alone. Ever.

In a conversation yesterday, a man I barely know asked me if I would ever consider doing something that I have longed to do for years. I won't muddy this stream with needless details; suffice it to say, I have waited for such an opportunity and only the Lord knew what was in my heart. As a matter of fact, before I met this man for lunch I prayed, Lord, if you want me to do this thing, have him suggest it. He did, and I knew once again that I was not alone. The Lord sometimes hides us beneath His wings, waiting for the appointed hour when He raises His pinions and reveals His mighty work in and through our lonely lives. What a God! What an awesome, mighty, mysterious God! He is worthy of my praise! I praise Him!

My aloneness and loneliness are not so intimidating anymore!
Ed Litton

Monday, June 30, 2008

A Grief Mostly Observed

One of the most difficult things in life is to observe the grief of someone you care for—and discipline yourself to do nothing. Every impulse of love electrifies us into action, because we’re afraid inaction will be confused with uncaring. I’m not suggesting that doing nothing is a virtue in most cases. I do assert that resisting giving easy answers and waiting for God's Spirit to allow your heart to be broken is truly comforting in the life of the grieving.

I have a great many friends who, in my hour of loss, moved to action. I deeply appreciate the practical love expressed to me and my children. But I’ve also come to appreciate the most thoughtful ones who acted not out of impulse but in deliberate caring. The word care has it's root in the Gothic word "kara" which means "lament." To care is first and foremost a word which means to grieve with, express sorrow and cry. To care is to come alongside the grieving and do little more than weep with those who weep.

What appears to be doing nothing is, in fact, one of the deepest acts of love a human can express. Jesus modeled this for us with Mary and Martha at the loss of their brother Lazarus. Yes, the grieving need practical ministry, but they also need stronghearted people who can just weep with them without giving in to the temptation to offer answers for that which the soul cannot grasp. Job's friends did well for the first week or so of Job's prolonged and confusing suffering. Then they all three gave in to their darkest nature and began to argue with this hurting man—proving their own arrogance.

The reason we offer answers to the unanswerable questions of suffering sometimes comes from our own need to be in control. When we bring "care" to our hurting friends like professionals and not broken-hearted friends, it places us in a powerful position over them. We seek to cure them, when, if we’re honest, we don’t posses the cure. This is why, for the grieving, the "comfort" so many bring instead offends and often curses.

I admit it’s a dangerous thing to get near the brokenhearted and the crushed. I find great comfort that the Lord is not afraid to draw near. Psalm 34:18 says, “The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” It’s in drawing near and weeping that we bring an inexpressible comfort which the grieving learn to appreciate later and never forget. Don’t be afraid to be silent in the face of a friend's loss. Life can be inexpressibly hard, and there are tragic events that take your breath away and leave you speechless. Be careful and be willing to offer nothing but yourself, your tears and your willingness to let your heart be broken with your friend. You will find the undying gratitude of the grieving and yourself becoming more like Christ.

Ed Litton

Monday, June 23, 2008

The Face of an Angel

In Acts chapter six, Stephen is listed as the first deacon. He’s said to be full of the Holy Spirit and faith, as well as God's grace and power. There’s clearly something unusual about Stephen--Christianity's first, but not last, martyr.

During his trial, as angry men hurl contrived allegations at Stephen, Scripture says the Sanhedrin notice his face looks like that of an angel. I suppose this means there was a peace, a calm, maybe even a supernatural beauty to his face. There in the heat of extreme danger, this deacon was so full of the Holy Spirit, God's peace controlling his heart, it showed on his face. This intrigues me.

How can a person in such danger have such peace? The answer is surrender. Surrender of what? Everything! If we cling to anything in life, even good things, we’ll find ourselves robbed of joy. We’ll find ourselves taking mental inventory of our "things," wondering where we placed them last and if they’re safe. Surrender says: give it away--for this is the only sure way to keep track of things without worry. Surrender says: my life is not my own to do with as I please. Stephen, even in the midst of the most stressful of situations, has such peace and joy that those looking at him compare his face to an angel. Even as stones pelt him to the ground, Stephen looks up with joyful praise for the Lord.

What a supernatural and radical way of living! A way of living that honors Christ by finding joy in pain and peace in suffering. We often think joy, peace and fulfillment come with pleasant circumstances. But for the child of God, joy comes with hardship, struggle, trial, conflict--and, yes, even loss. To me, the most interesting part of the story of Acts chapter six and seven is that people are watching. God knows how to display His greatest drama. The onlookers see how a genuine Christian lives and dies. They see firsthand how Christ transforms the most painful life events into a platform of grace.

Never forget these words, for this is the reason Stephen suffered as he did. God is always doing something more than we can perceive, and He certainly was at work on this day. Stephen's bold sermon infuriated the spiritual leaders of Israel and they moved to kill him. According to Acts 7:57-58, “they covered their ears and, yelling at the top of their voices, they all rushed at him, dragged him out of the city and began to stone him. Meanwhile, the witnesses laid their clothes at the feet of a young man named Saul.”

Saul, the instigator, stood in the shadows, doubtless finding perverse pleasure in the death of this young "infidel." He couldn’t know then how his life would be transformed by this moment. This young man Saul would become Paul, the Apostle of the heart set free. Paul would remember this moment countless times as he himself suffered and found God's joy in the midst of danger. The world knows of the gospel of Jesus largely because of Paul--and there would be no Paul were it not for a young man with “the face of an angel.”

How are you suffering? Don't wait to find joy in the conclusion of it--ask God to reveal His joy in the midst of it. God is doing something more than you can perceive right now, and it likely has to do with someone discovering the God of love and grace. They will find God's grace in the face of an angel and that face may belong to you.

Ed Litton

Thursday, June 05, 2008

Flight Interrupted

My children and I are taking a few days away just prior to the Southern Baptist Convention. We flew from Mobile to Memphis and then on to Indianapolis. Our flight took off from Memphis on time. Ten minutes into the flight there was a loud noise beneath us, the sound of the plane’s landing gear lumbering down. Kayla and I were sitting together; the boys, Josh and Tyler, were behind us a few rows back. Kayla was asleep. I turned to see if the boys were worried. They were but I motioned to Josh a thumbs up. I was concerned. I began praying. As I checked my emotions I felt a strange peace. Strange in the sense that I was not afraid of dying. In times past I have been terrified by much smaller events in mid air. I was concerned for my kids, especially Kayla, who has been traumatized by the car accident with Tammy just over nine months ago.

We later discovered that the front landing gear didn’t go up on take off. The pilot did a masterful job calming the passengers and getting back to Memphis. Our plane circled in a fly by the control tower to make certain that all the gear was down, then attempted a landing. At the end of the runway I could see fire fighters and equipment standing ready. Thankfully the landing gear was in working condition and we landed safely.

That was a little more drama that I was expecting today. And it reminds me that "my time" may come at any time. We don't have guarantees of a long life, but we do have a guarantee of life. As I prayed I sensed confidence in the Lord as my shepherd. If this was it, then this was it, and I know my family is ready to go. Yet I wanted to live on. This is the dilemma Paul addresses in Philippians 1:21-23: "For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain. If I am to go on living in the body, this will mean fruitful labor for me. Yet what shall I choose? I do not know! I am torn between the two: I desire to depart and be with Christ, which is better by far."

Death doesn’t hold the terrors it once did for me. I’m grateful for that. I was shaken, but it was more for my children and how to help them navigate this very real part of living. As Hebrews 2:14-15 says, “Since the children have flesh and blood, he too shared in their humanity so that by his 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.” I am proud of my kids. After a brief stay back in Memphis, we loaded ourselves onto another flight and continued on to Indianapolis.


Ed Litton

Wednesday, May 28, 2008

When God Says "NO!"

When the Lord says a sovereign "No!" to something you deeply desire, how do you handle it?

King David's desire was to build a house for the Lord in the city that bore his name, the City of David. The prophet Nathan agreed that it was a great idea. Second Samuel 7:3 says: "Nathan replied to the king, 'Whatever you have in mind, go ahead and do it, for the LORD is with you.'” It is tempting to assume that because God has moved through a person in the past, God's will can be automatically known for the future. Nathan was in for a surprise when God make it clear that David was not to build the Temple.

I am amazed at David's response. He is clearly disappointed with God's plan. Which tells the grieving that it is okay to be disappointed with God's plan and even God Himself. Denying the obvious never really helped anyone. This was David's dream, dying before his very eyes. God reveals that His reasoning related to the fact that David was a man of great bloodshed. God isn’t obligated to reveal this much information. This revelation must have left David with a great sense of grief and regret. Still, David bounced back from whatever disappointment he experienced and released his dream project to his son, Solomon.

Then David does something unexpected. A lesser man would have dropped the idea, washed his hands of the project and simply walked away. Not this man after God's own heart. David remained focused on the real reason for the temple, which was to glorify God. He released amazing resources to his young and inexperienced son so that in the proper time God's house would be built.

How do you and I respond to disappointing news from God? Like David, we get to choose how we respond. We can sulk in self pity. We can get angry. We can throw up guilty hands and simply walk away. The other option is to do what David did—surrender to God's sovereignty and roll up our sleeves to help the one God has chosen to lead, even if that one is younger and inexperienced.

First Chronicles 22:5 says: "My son Solomon is young and inexperienced, and the house to be built for the LORD should be of great magnificence and fame and splendor in the sight of all the nations. Therefore I will make preparations for it." So David made extensive preparations before his death.

How you handle God's "No!" determines much about you! You don't have to like it, but you must surrender to it. In the surrender there is joy, the kind of joy that cannot be explained, unspeakable and full of glory. David's temple never came to be, but God's temple was glorious. Generations would marvel and meet God there. One day a visitor to this great temple—a visitor who taught old men as a young boy, who held the crowd spellbound in His teaching, and who did intellectual and spiritual battle within its colonnades—would from there reveal that the real Temple was himself.

In your disappointment with God's will, remember it isn't about us or even our dreams. It’s about the Son of David, Jesus! This focus does not take away all disappointment, but it sure helps us to focus on what matters most.

Ed Litton

Wednesday, May 21, 2008

The Rabbi's Dust

When Jesus spoke again to the people, he said, "I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life." (John 8:12 NIV)

You can walk through the Valley of the Shadow of Death and fear no evil because of whom you walk with. The Good Shepherd is close to those who broken are crushed in Spirit (Ps. 34:18). It is clear in God's Word and my own experience that the Lord personally walks us through our griefs, sorrows and sufferings. In the Christian life, the Bible indicates that at times He dispatches ministering spirits, otherwise known as angels, to the service of His people. He matches the sick with a healer like Dr. Luke. For those who are discouraged He gives a Barnabas kind of friend. To those who are hungry and lonely with a Martha, Mary and Lazarus, but when we walk into the Valley of the Shadow of Death, He comes. Describing the scary journey through the shadowed land of Psalm 23, David switches from the third person tense to the second person: "...for you are with me." When the Good Shepherd of your soul is with you, it is impossible to walk in darkness, even when you are walking in a dark place. Jesus promised that those who walk close to Him will "never" walk in darkness. You have the light of life.

An ancient rabbinical blessing highlights the role of a disciple as well as the power of the teacher. Most rabbis in the time of Jesus had young disciples who followed them. It was the Hebrew custom to walk very close to your rabbi or teacher so that you could learn of his ways in every area of life. The blessing was something like this: "May the dust of your rabbi be upon you!" In other words, may you walk so close to your teacher that his dust would be upon you at the end of the day.

How closely are you walking with your Rabbi? Our Lord leads us into some pretty scary places. He has no qualms about our fears and timidity; He pushes us to strengthen us. He himself will always go to the most desperate places, meeting the most desperate people. Today as you walk with your Rabbi, stay close and let His dust be upon you. Do not live for your comfort, live for Him. At the end of the day when the mealtime comes, He will take a basin and towel and wash his dust from your feet and remind you of how dangerous it is to walk this earth without him. In that moment, all your daily lessons and insights will make more sense, and you will breath a deep sigh as you realize that you've spent another day in the Valley of the Shadow of Death and that you feared no evil.

What a Savior!
Ed Litton