by Stacey | Sep 18, 2014 | The Weekend Visitor
Whenever I start to get discouraged about the future of the church, I remember a conversation I had a few years ago with evangelical theologian Carl F. H. Henry on what would turn out to be his last visit to Southern Seminary before his death.
Several of us were lamenting the miserable shape of the church, about so much doctrinal vacuity, vapid preaching, non-existent discipleship. We asked Dr. Henry if he saw any hope in the coming generation of evangelicals.
And I will never forget his reply.
“Why, you speak as though Christianity were genetic,” he said. “Of course, there is hope for the next generation of evangelicals. But the leaders of the next generation might not be coming from the current evangelical establishment. They are probably still pagans.”
“Who knew that Saul of Tarsus was to be the great apostle to the Gentiles?” he asked us. “Who knew that God would raise up a C.S. Lewis, a Charles Colson? They were unbelievers who, once saved by the grace of God, were mighty warriors for the faith.”
Of course, the same principle applied to Henry himself. Who knew that God would raise up a newspaperman from a nominally Lutheran family to defend the Scriptures for generations of conservative evangelicals?
The next Jonathan Edwards might be the man driving in front of you with the Darwin Fish bumper decal. The next Charles Wesley might be a misogynist, profanity-spewing hip-hop artist right now. The next Billy Graham might be passed out drunk in a fraternity house right now. The next Charles Spurgeon might be making posters for a Gay Pride March right now. The next Mother Teresa might be managing an abortion clinic right now.
But the Spirit of God can turn all that around. And seems to delight to do so. The new birth doesn’t just transform lives, creating repentance and faith; it also provides new leadership to the church, and fulfills Jesus’ promise to gift his church with everything needed for her onward march through space and time (Eph. 4:8-16).
After all, while Phillip was leading the Ethiopian eunuch to Christ, Saul of Tarsus was still a murderer.
Most of the church in any generation comes along through the slow, patient discipleship of the next generation. But just to keep us from thinking Christianity is evolutionary and “natural” (or, to use Dr. Henry’s term “genetic”), Jesus shocks his church with leadership that seems to come like a Big Bang out of nowhere.
Whenever I’m tempted to despair about the shape of American Christianity, I’m reminded that Jesus never promised the triumph of the American church; he promised the triumph of the church. Most of the church, in heaven and on earth, isn’t American. Maybe the hope of the American church is right now in Nigeria or Laos or Indonesia.
Jesus will be King, and his church will flourish. And he’ll do it in the way he chooses, by exalting the humble and humbling the exalted, and by transforming cowards and thieves and murderers into the cornerstones of his New City.
So relax.
And, be kind to that atheist in front of you on the highway, the one who just shot you an obscene gesture. He might be the one who evangelizes your grandchildren.
Dr. Moore is the Dean of the School of Theology and Senior Vice-President for Academic Administration at The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary. He also serves as a preaching pastor at Highview Baptist Church, where he ministers weekly at the congregation’s Fegenbush location. Moore is the author of several books, including The Kingdom of Christ, Adopted for Life, and Tempted and Tried.
Used with permission
by Stacey | Sep 4, 2014 | Devotionals, reflections, and encouragement
The day is hard. Correction. The season is hard. Hard enough that it is tempting to doubt and fall into despair. But You, Lord, are my refuge and strength. You are my help in times of trouble. I don’t understand, but I don’t need to understand. I need to believe that Your ways and thoughts are higher than mine and that you love me.
Give me eyes that see beyond now. Give me feet that walk the hard road of obedience. Give me a heart in beat with Yours. Give me the faith to believe that my ram is coming.
“It had to have been the darkest day of Abraham’s life as he trudged up the mountain, with firewood strapped to his son’s back. Every step took Abraham closer to what he believed to be the sad ending of a hopeless situation – the death of his son. Yet in spite of his sorrow, Abraham trusted God. His heart wasn’t soaring with joy. He wasn’t dancing up the mountain. But he put one foot in front of the other. Walking through the darkness of the situation; obeying His God’s commands.
Unbeknownst to Abraham, something else was walking up that mountain. Quietly. Out of sight. On the other side of the mountain. Something else was putting one foot in front of the other. Only Abraham couldn’t see it.
For every step Abraham took, a ram on the other side of the mountain took a step.”
– See more at: Proverbs 31 Ministries Devotions
My ram is coming. So is yours. We cannot see it, but with every heartbeat, believe that God’s response to your need is climbing up the other side of the mountain. You will meet at the peak where you will fall to your knees worshipping with Abraham at the place named, The Lord Will Provide.
by Stacey | Aug 22, 2014 | Devotionals, reflections, and encouragement
Today our precious Kate, who we adopted nine years ago, turns ten, but her story is much older. It was woven into the fabric of our marriage before she was born.
Kevin and I planned to have a family, but after many years of marriage, we had to consider that maybe our future didn’t include children. In that difficult season of life we struggled to see past our desires to consider that maybe God had a bigger plan in motion.
Difficulties have a way of highlighting sinful tendencies that are easily normalized when life is easy. I-want-it-my-way attitudes and foot-stomping tantrums prevail when God says no. Yet, these are the precious moments where our Holy Lord enters into our pain and speaks directly to our hearts, speaks directly to the sin hiding there and exposes it. After one such encounter, I journaled this conversation with God:
God, if you bless us with children, I will praise you. I will tell of your goodness, your faithfulness and love. I will use every opportunity to share how much you care about the things we hold dear in our hearts. And If you never bless us with children, if for some reason a family is not part of your plan for our future, I will still praise you. I will tell of your goodness, your faithfulness and love. I will use every opportunity to share how much you care about the things we hold dear in our hearts. My love for you and my trust in you will not depend on how you answer this desire in my life. You have nothing to prove to me. You are my God and You are enough.
Sweet contentment came after surrender. Despite the fear, despite the anger, despite the anguish, God was there, and He was telling me that He was enough.
God never gave me a sneak peek at the three beautiful children He had chosen for us. We waited another year before receiving the gift of international adoption, and an additional four years before adopting the boys. Similarly, you might not get a sneak peek at the beauty God can raise from the ashes in your life. Today, I can look back with a better understanding of what God was doing. I can see how God used our wait, our trials, and our disappointment to shape me for my good and His glory. He taught me lessons about trust, about unconditional love, and about Him. HE IS ENOUGH.
Some well-intended people have said in the past that Kate is lucky to have us. I respectfully disagree. We are the ones blessed to have her. Through her, God has stretched me, changed me, and drawn me closer to Him. And through her, He has blessed me beyond my wildest dreams.
Thank you, God. It’s her birthday, yet I am blessed to receive the gift of motherhood.
Who is like the Lord Our God?… He gives the barren woman a home, making her the joyous mother of children. Praise the Lord!
Psalm 113:9
by Stacey | Aug 14, 2014 | Devotionals, reflections, and encouragement
Darkness.
Every so often it catches me by surprise leaving me gasping in agonizing grief. Cut down at the knees. Desperate for Light. I turn the news clip off, as if blocking the horrific images will change the truth. Will stop them from burning onto my soul.
Dark Iraqi images.
Sobs wrack my body and I lock the bedroom door. I don’t want my daughter to question my tears. I don’t want to tell her about the rifle barrel pressed against a toddler’s tender forehead. I don’t want to tell her about the school children ruthlessly beheaded, and how the security and safety we enjoy in Canada might one day be stripped away like the dignity of those innocent babies. I don’t want to discuss the odds of this evil tidal wave washing up on our shore.
My whole being aches for peace. Aches for what this world cannot provide. Will never provide. Was never intended to provide.
How dark will it become before Your return, O Lord?
A similar shroud fell over Bethlehem during King Herod’s reign. Babies ripped from their mothers arms. Executed. The Holocaust painted Europe black in WW2 with the blood of the Jews. Darkness deepening blacker still, Satan twisting the dimmer until light is no more.
But one Light cannot be extinguished. One Holy Light, who descended into our dark world and opened our eyes. Oh, how I want to be bathed in that Light, but I cannot enter in without counting the cost.
We must count the cost.
Hell is raining down a mere ocean away and these piercing notes will build to a crescendo coming for all mankind. Are you ready chose your God over your life (Matt 24:4-14)?
These birth pangs will give way to unprecedented evil, eventually bringing forth a new age. They will sift the wheat from the chaff, and will bring the redeemed into the Kingdom of God. The kingdom of Light.
Are you in the Light?
Come, Lord Jesus, Come.
Come quickly.
by Stacey | Aug 7, 2014 | Devotionals, reflections, and encouragement
A neonatal nurse once told me that singing Amazing Grace to fussy premature infants would calm them. She didn’t know why.
I do.
There is power in proclaiming God’s truth.
One day, day nine years ago, I first rocked our fussy, premature Kaitlyn and sang the old words, burning them into my heart.
My very wretchedness makes His undeserved grace oh, so sweet.
My wretched selfish nature.
My wretched mind that is prone to wonder.
My wretched divided heart.
Because of grace, I am no longer lost in, or blind to these sins. Because of grace, I am found, and know my place before my holy Maker.
His grace replaces my fear-filled heart with a reverent heart. May I never lose sight of how precious this amazing grace is.
Grace that broke the chains of my sin and shackled them upon Himself. Grace that traded His freedom for mine. Grace that changes everything, everyday.
Amazing, indeed.
