One-year-olds bring their own brand of entertainment to Christmastime. We place before them armloads of presents adorned with paper and bows, then we patiently watch them (and then impatiently help them) meander their way through the giftwrap to the treasures inside. When they finally free their presents from their colorful confines, what do these little ones do? They play joyfully and contentedly with the paper, package, and bow! If young parents would just hand them a cheerfully decorated box, they would save a whole lot of money and their tiny tots would be every bit as happy. I say this in jest, of course, but there is a life lesson to be gained from these youngest among us.
In the greatest sermon ever preached, Jesus taught the gathered crowd, “Seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things [life’s necessities] will be added to you.”1 Now, I must confess that for most of my life I naturally regarded this verse from the perspective of “all these things” inside the box. I “sought first,” of course, but the “added to you” was more of a motivator than perhaps it should have been. True to His word, God has always provided whatever I have needed, and I have been genuinely grateful along the way. Yet with age, I find myself returning to my one-year-old roots, captivated by the package itself: the bright “paper” that is God’s rule in the heart and the “ribbon and bow” of the righteousness—the right standing before a holy God—that Jesus gifts to us. The necessities of this life will be important as long as we are here, but the horizon seems nearer now, and these things that last forever shine brighter in its light. It’s a beautiful thing.
Where do we find true contentment, in things, or in open conversation with God? Where do we find true peace, in endless lists of dos and don’ts, or in entrusting our entire self to the life and love we find in Christ? Which is more deeply satisfying, the necessities of life—the things inside the box—that appear when we need them most, or the personal love and care of the God who provides them through the means of His choosing and to our humble delight? Don’t the eternal things that satisfy most deeply captivate us more completely with age?
Oh, to be a one-year-old again. Someday maybe.
Father, You are above all things. Lead me today in Your ways. Grace me to live and breathe before You in joy and in the confidence that Christ has taken away all my guilt and shame. He is Your greatest gift. Thank you. In Christ I pray. Amen.
1 Matthew 6:33 ESV
Tag: A Word for Wednesday
Psst! Your Humility Is Showing
“No wonder Christians are so humble,” pondered aloud our international student friend. Knowing very little about the Bible, she had been joining Peggy and me weekly to learn about God and His gracious work in a fallen humanity. As the gospel sunk in a little bit deeper one evening, our friend made the connection—receiving everything while deserving nothing is indeed a very humbling thing. Gratitude then grows where pride once prevailed.
Truthfully, our friend’s comment took me by surprise—a pleasant surprise for sure—for I had become more accustomed to criticism from those who have yet to meet the Savior. In fact, it seems we as believers are inclined to be a little too harsh on ourselves, letting accusations define us and thereby discourage us from sharing with others the treasure we’ve found in Christ. It is true that inconsistencies between our belief and our behavior are off-putting to others and understandably so, for our moral missteps are every bit as discouraging to us. But God’s work in us does not cease at salvation; He continues to shape us into the image of Christ. The more we receive and experience the love and faithfulness of God, the more eagerly we set aside our desires for His desires and our ways for His own. This is His doing, not ours, for it is He who “work[s] in us what is pleasing to him, through Jesus Christ, to whom be glory forever and ever.”1
And it shows. Our friend saw humility often enough and consistently enough among Christians that she made the association, a connection she carried in her heart. God works other traits into His followers as well: personally, it was the peace, joy, and faith of believers that caught my attention and sent me seeking the risen Christ, and perhaps it was still other godly characteristics that drew you to Him. So take heart—the Spirit of God is morphing us into the image of Christ and equipping us for His good purposes. We are not the same people we were when we entrusted our lives to Him, thankfully, so we can confidently step into the divine directive today: “Let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.”2 How humbling the call.
Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others. (Philippians 2:3-4)
Father, Your wisdom is unsearchable, and Your love boundless. Thank You for changing us, most often in ways we view only in hindsight. Strengthen us in the humility of Christ, that we would live, love and serve with Him today. In His name we pray. Amen.
1 Hebrews 13:21
2 Matthew 5:16
The Grace of Age
Of all my birthdays one stands out in a peculiar way—twenty-two. Can you guess why? Until that point, I had looked forward to the spoils that come with age. In childhood, it was things and activities that patiently awaited my impatient self—getting a bicycle, joining a Scout troop, and playing Little League baseball, for instance. Along the way, my age-related desires migrated toward special privileges—the driver’s license at sixteen, voting at eighteen, and, yes, legally imbibing at twenty-one.
Then came twenty-two . . .
And I realized no more age-related opportunities or privileges lay ahead (except maybe social security at sixty-five, which held no appeal at the time). The small, sobering voice of reality crashed my party that year.
Many birthdays have come and gone since twenty-two. The bikes and ball gloves of my youth are mere memories, though I embrace our shared experiences in a nostalgic way, and I still appreciate the privileges of adulthood. Yet far greater than any of these is the special grace of realizing worldly things satisfy but for a moment and our time on earth doesn’t last forever. Reality has a way of getting our attention and redirecting us to what matters and endures. Jesus taught the gathering crowds, “Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moths and vermin do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”1 Our hearts follow our treasure, and in the transforming love of God, what we treasure matures into what matters, that which lasts—God himself.
Then how do we store up treasures in heaven? Think for a moment—when do you most sense God’s presence? Isn’t it when you open up to Him in conversation and when you absorb His life-breathing Word? Then also, when do you sense God’s pleasure? Isn’t it when God blesses someone through your obedient acts of kindness and healing words of truth and grace? Loving God and loving people—these are the things that matter, the things that build up lasting treasures that await us when we come of age.
“And now the prize awaits me—the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will give me on the day of his return. And the prize is not just for me but for all who eagerly look forward to his appearing.” (2 Timothy 4:8 NLT).
Father, the older we get, the more our desires reach toward yours. Thank you for this grace. Lead us today into what matters—loving you with all our being and loving people in the ways you call us to do so today. Be our treasure. In Christ we pray. Amen.
1 Matthew 6:19-21