I get breathless when I think about the promises of God.
Great and precious promises. Exceedingly great and precious
promises. Drink deep, and find them.
I’m originally from New Mexico, and when the horizon isn’t
blocked up by a bunch of trees and hills like it is here in the piedmont of
South Carolina, and when you live up by the atmosphere at 1 mile, you can see
for miles in every direction. You can literally see the curvature of the earth.
And there’s more sky. Deep, blue, endless sky. Which
terrifies my husband who feels like he's about to fly off into outer space with
nothing to catch him. (He grew up here in the piedmont, in a nice
forest.)
And when that deep blue sky fills up with piles of deep,
high, puffy white clouds, you know something is about to happen.
Because the sunsets are incredible. Those clouds turn into
fire, gold and red and rose and pink and a thousand shades of vibrant that have
never been named.
I flew into Albuquerque during one such sunset. And I’ve
never forgotten it. The plane flew across dry mesas and dusty land, and then
over the rolling hills that pile up and begin the western rocky mountain
chain. And suddenly the mountains dropped off under the plane in a
sharp cliff, and we flew in to a golden, fiery, sunset. The clouds were low and
covering the entire city. Rain was pouring down. And it was like flying into
the heart of heaven.
Exceedingly great. Vibrantly precious. Mind-blowingly
spectacular.
Words can never describe them. Those promises of God.
But we can experience them.
My husband taught on Ephesians chapter 1 the other week, and
one thing he said took hold of my heart: “The most enduring promises of God are
spiritual.”
Spiritual. Not physical. Because, as Peter reminds us, those
exceedingly great and precious promises are given to us for one reason: “That
through them you may be partakers of divine nature, having escaped the
corruption that is in the world through lust.” (2 Peter 1:4)
I grew up hearing a lot about every thing wrong that I did.
Someone was always available to find fault. And now, so many years later, I do
it myself.
Many of those old-school theological folks had some
incredible things to say. And when we stumble across them again, it’s so
freeing.
A friend had posted an incredible article by Timothy Keller
titled “When Sin is Grievous and Grace is Stunning.”
I took a breath in. Grace is stunning.
And I read. He had dug up some John Newton from the 18th
century and modernized it like this:
“Newton gives us some deeply convicting ways to examine our
hearts. Christians, he says, put too little time and effort into examining
themselves and seeking to grow in holiness, in the fruit of the Spirit. But
does such close examination mean that we are doomed to always feel inadequate,
ashamed, and guilty? No, because Newton sees deeper knowledge of sin
leading to richer rejoicing in grace.”
Oh. Rejoicing in Grace. I've always missed that part.
There’s more:
“People often try to fill their hearts with the danger of what they are doing. You can tell yourself, If I keep doing this it will cause problems for me. That may be true and could be good "smelling salts" to get you to recognize your problem. But if that's all you say to your heart, it effectively bends the metal of your heart but doesn't really soften and permanently reshape it. The motivation is ultimately selfish and only brings short-term change.”
I started to understand. So, when I remind myself that
procrastinating now will make more work for me later, that doesn't change my
heart. And when I mutter in my heart that my never picks up his socks, and then remind myself that if I let that out, I'm just a dripping
faucet...I keep the words in, but the bitterness too.
And when I teach my children that they shouldn't hit or yell
or say mean words because it will make them unkind adults, I'm missing the
heart of the issue.
And here's what blew my mind in this article:
“We need to go deeper to the only lasting way to change our
hearts—take them to the radical, costly grace of God in Christ on the cross.
You show your heart the infinite depths to which he went so that you would be
free from sin and its condemnation. This fills you with a sense not just of the
danger or sin, but also of its grievousness. Think about how
ungrateful it is, think of how your sin is not just against God's law but also
against his heart. Melt your heart with the knowledge of what he's done for
you. Tremble before the knowledge of what he is worth—worthy of all glory.”
A heart that melts before a God of great worth. Isn't that
beautiful?
That changes things. I work now, because I have been blessed
with life by the One who gave his life.
I pick up socks after my husband, because my God is picking up
after me. And forgiving me. And never muttering about my issues.
And I teach my children gentle ways and right actions
because our great God first extended his love, his grace, himself, to us.
And I get breathless. Because these things are deep.
These are exceedingly great and precious promises.
P.s. You can listen to Jason's teaching here: http://calvaryspartanburg.com/teachings.html. Load up "Unknown Blessings" Eph. 1.
You can read the Timothy Keller article here: http://thegospelcoalition.org/blogs/tgc/2013/06/24/when-sin-is-grievous-and-grace-is-stunning/ (I am only linking to thegospelcoalition.com in order to cite this article; they don't know me and I don't know them)
