The Heavy Hand of God

“For the Lord spake thus to me with a strong hand…” (Isaiah 8:11a)

David tells us in his twenty-third Psalm that God not only leads us by relaxing, “still waters,” but sometimes by exhausting “ways of righteousness” (Psl. 23:2-3). God has promised to “continually” guide those who follow Him (Isa. 58:11), with His eye, if possible, or with a “bit and bridle,” if need be (Psl. 32:8-9). He leads them in; and sometimes He leads them “out” (John 10:3); but He leads them one and all, in one way or another.

In the case of young Isaiah, God had to speak with a “strong hand,” because His instructions wouldn’t be something Isaiah would have chosen for himself. He would have to be shoved into giving the people of God a message that didn’t want to hear, which would end with them blaming the messenger. For all practical purposes, he would be separating himself from them: (“…[He]instructed me that I should not walk in the way of this people…” Isa. 8:11b). Remember, it’s the “goodness of God” that leads us to repentance (Rom. 2:4); or that leads us to an unsought for change of direction. The path ahead in the will of God may not be the softest one, but it will be the safest one. You can rely on that.

Not only that, the heavy hand of God may manifest itself as a closed door. We read in Acts 16:7, “After they [Paul, Luke, and Timothy] were come to Mysia, they assayed to go into Bithynia: but the Spirit suffered them not.” They wanted to go one way, but God wanted them to go another. Whether the prohibition was an invisible lack of spiritual freedom or visible surrounding circumstances, the fact remained, it was obvious God had used His strong hand to shut the door. And of course, it served to make God’s later vision to Paul of the call to Macedonia more inviting…and immediate: “And after he had seen the vision, immediately we endeavoured to go into Macedonia…”(16:10).

God doesn’t always show us His will immediately, and this is a good thing. How else would we learn the disciplines of patience, hope, and self-control that mark us for greater things in the service of God and others? But He does promise to lead His sheep anytime, anywhere, and by any means. Valiant Nehemiah reveled in “the good hand of my God upon me”; and suffering Job begged, “Have pity upon me, have pity upon me, O ye my friends; for the hand of God hath touched me” (Job 19:21). But either way, they both experienced the Hand of God in their lives. Only those who have no Shepherd have no experience with His touch. Thank God today for His “strong hand” in your own life!

“He leadeth me; He leadeth me,

By His strong hand He leadeth me.

His faithful follower I would be;

For my His hand He leadeth me.”

— Joseph H. Gilmore

Troublemakers

When he giveth quietness, who then can make trouble? – Job 34:29a

Did you catch the “who”? Let’s face it; some people are just plain troublemakers. They can stir up, lead astray, undermine, isolate, dishearten, or otherwise plague others around them just by showing up. They can be either covert or audacious, but either way, they can sabotage your peace and quietness of soul. The bad thing is, sometimes they’re unavoidable. If that’s the case, drastic measures are called for. No, I’m not advocating violence here.   

The only kind of quietness that stops a real troublemaker is the kind of quietness that only God can give. As the verse says, it’s invincible. Nobody, even the worst troublemaker you know, can withstand it. The peace of God passes all understanding (Philip. 4:7) and leaves the worst troublemaker wallowing in his or her own misery. With quietness comes confidence and with confidence comes strength (Isa. 30:15). The most awe-inspiring strength is quiet strength that remains unruffled and unshakable.

The kind of peace and quietness I’m talking about is not drug-induced or dependent on trance-like “meditation.” It comes from living daily in the presence of God through His Word and the “fellowship of the Spirit” (Philip. 2:1). It’s inner peace that produces outward grace and what I love to call, “Spiritual poise.” It’s not a quiet voice; it’s a quiet spirit. And it quiets the loudest, most overpowering troublemaker.

“A cup brimful of sweet water cannot spill even one drop of bitter water, however suddenly jolted.”   - Amy Carmichael

A Terrible Waste

“But we have the mind of Christ.” (1Cor. 2:16b) “Let this mind be in you, which was also in Christ Jesus.” (Philip. 2:5)

“I just don’t think he (she) has any spiritual perception at all.” This was said about someone the speaker and I both knew. “Oh, no,” I countered, “I think there’s definite evidence of spiritual perception; it just isn’t being utilized.” I may have been wrong about this particular person, but I don’t think the concept is farfetched. As a matter of fact, the two verses cited above seem to bear this out.

The verse in First Corinthians is comparing the “natural” (unsaved) man and the one who has been granted “spiritual” discernment (the saved man or woman). In the case of the latter, Paul says we can be sure that this person has the mind of Christ. This incomparable advantage is part of the salvation “package,” if you will. Yet in Philippians, the same writer admonishes us as believers to let the mind of Christ live in us. The key word here is “let,” indicating a choice.

“Christ-mindedness,” seeing all of life as Christ sees it, is not inevitable for the child of God; but it is available.

The natural man “receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God,” but the spiritual man does. He or she “gets it”; they just don’t always do anything with it. And if you’re familiar at all with what the Bible says about rejecting light, you recognize that this is very dangerous, because, as the saying goes, “Light rejected brings greater darkness. The brightest light is of no use to you if your eyes are closed. It’s possible to end up being like the children of Israel, who boasted of having been given the Law, while at the same time refusing to keep it (Rom. 2).

You and I, as New Testament believers, have been given the mind of Christ. It’s up to us, however, whether or not we choose to let this Mind think, live, and breathe through our daily lives. Believe me, this brings even greater significance to the popular adage, “A mind is a terrible thing to waste.” Yes, it is, especially when it’s the mind of Christ.

I Still Miss Her

“Her children arise up, and call her blessed…” – Prov. 31:28a

It’s been nearly twenty-four years ago since my mother went home to be with the Lord. I wasn’t there when she died. I was in Northern Ireland, serving God with my husband and our two younger children, Josh and Charity. On Mother’s Day, I don’t think about my own happy role as a mother; I think of her. I think of my children every day, but not my mother (or father, for that matter). But when I do, I never fail to call her, “Bless-ed,” and myself, “blessed.” And I miss her. Though we were apart for most of my married life, I still knew it was possible to see her. Now our next reunion will be in Heaven, and it’s getting closer every day.

Forty-four years ago, I was a young pastor’s wife in Florida, and when that particular Mother’s Day rolled around, as usual, I was missing her. And that year, I didn’t send a card. I wrote a poem to tell her how I felt. Many years after her death, I found the envelope with that poem inside. It’s postmarked May 10, 1969. The ink inside has begun to blur but the poem is intact. It’s not a literary gem, but it is the best efforts of a heart filled with love and sweet memories.

TO MY MOTHER

Prov. 31:28a

There’s a sweet and sunny lady,

That I know so very well;

And I think now how I love her,

More than I could ever tell

Oh, I loved her when she rocked me,

As she sang her lullaby,

“By-o-baby, By-o-bunting”

Till my childish tears were dried.

Yes, I loved her as I older grew;

I realized her worth.

And observing other ones, could see

Mine was a noble birth.

But ‘twas not till recent years,

When voices called me, “Mommy,” too;

(Sweet voices—wanting, needing me)

No, not till then, ‘tis true

Could I ever know a tenth,

Of what my mother did for me;

Could I ever know the sacrifice,

A mother’s life can be.

But I’d rather be a mother

Than a queen in life, it’s true.

And I’d rather hear a little voice

Say, “Mommy, I love you!”

So, I wish that I could tell her now—

This lady faraway,

That I love her more than e’er before,

As I watch my children play.

I still miss her…I always will.

Exaggeration

“Then answered one of the servants, and said, Behold, I have seen a son of Jesse the Bethlehemite, that is cunning in playing, and a mighty valiant man, and a man of war, and prudent in matters, and a comely person, and the Lord is with him.” – 1 Samuel 16:18

King Saul was a slave to his emotions, easily influenced and provoked. His greatest character flaw, however, was his chronic failure to take the instruction of God seriously. It ended up costing him a kingdom. In this chapter of 1 Samuel, we read that about the same time the Spirit of the Lord came upon young David, when Samuel anointed him to be the next king of Israel, the same Spirit of the Lord left King Saul, and “an evil spirit from the Lord” began to trouble him. His servants, who, no doubt, would bear the brunt of his ill humor, had a suggestion.

What was needed was some nice, soothing music, ideally from the hand of a “cunning player on a harp” (vv. 15-16). “Yes, get me one,” says Saul. And one of the servants knew just the man for the job. He described David to him in verse eighteen; I may be wrong here, but it would seem to me that in his exuberance, he painted an unnecessarily inflated resume for Jesse’s youngest son. For instance, he calls him “a man of war,” yet when war with the Philistines was waged, he was made to stay home, while his other brothers went off to war (1 Sam. 17). And when Saul questioned about his war experience, he offered only a story of defeating a bear and a lion.

“So, he exaggerated,” you say, “Big deal!” You may consider this to be questionable quibbling, but Saul was the last person to whom you should brag about someone else…especially the young, gifted David. If you’re familiar with the saga of Saul and David, you know that before it was over, Saul’s jealousy of David reached a fever pitch of paranoia that drove him to hound him like an animal. Most people date the genesis of Saul’s obsession against David from the choruses of praise about him that were sung by foolish women (18: 6-9); but I would contend that the seeds of jealousy were planted by this servant who couldn’t say enough about David, even to the point of exaggeration. And in this case, the seed of exaggeration grew to a mighty oak of ruination.

Exaggeration is going beyond the truth to what could be. It’s a sin. But it’s also a sign. It’s a sign that our argument lacks true wieght without false facts. It’s a sign of our own need to shock and/or overwhelm. It’s all right to embellish a story, as long as people recognize we’re using “literary license,” just trying to tell a good story. But, at the end of the day, we should look in the mirror and know that we have spoken truth with “our neighbor” (Eph. 4:25), and be able to say with Paul,
“I speak the truth in Christ, and lie not…” (1 Tim. 2:7). There is nothing more pristine than the unspoiled, unvarnished truth. The truth…nothing less…and nothing more.

There are some people so addicted to exaggeration that they can't tell the truth without lying. -  Josh Billings