A Life Worthy

And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself and became obedient to death—even death on a cross!  (Philippians 2:8)

He didn’t have to die—you know that.

He chose to die, for reasons I still can’t fully grasp.  I mean, I understand the basic theological concept of redemption.  He who knew no sin, taking the burden of my sin upon himself, dying in my place to pay the price for that sin and restore my relationship to the Father.  He took the punishment because—and here’s where my brain locks up—he thinks I’m worth it.

I hope he’s right.

I can’t wrap my head around the concept, but I can wrap my heart around it.

That’s enough for now.

Still, the whole thing is just so very not the way I would have done it.

And there you go, folks—reason #37 to be glad I am not God.

Thank you, Lord, that you were willing to pay the price I could never pay.

Thank you, Father, that it did not end with the cross.

Happy Friday, Beloved.

Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus: (Philippians 2:5)

No pressure here—just have the same attitude as the Lord of the Universe, OK? Got it?

Good

This is your calling, Beloved of Christ.  God wants you to become like him, to be conformed to his image, to see the world through his eyes and love it with his heart.  Tomorrow we will look at what Paul means by an attitude, “The same as that of Christ Jesus.” For today, just consider this: God has called you—commanded you—to be like him.  Not in some cultish “I will be a god myself one day!” sort of way, but in a, “I love you so much that I want to be just like you!” kinda way.

If you provide the want-to, he’ll provide the how-to.

And frankly, if you ask, he’ll even provide the want-to.

He’s pretty awesome that way.

Happy Wednesday, Beloved.

The fool says in his heart, “There is no God.” (Psalm 14:1).

Any questions?

Happy Monday, Beloved

Whatever happens, conduct yourself in a manner worthy of the gospel of Christ. (Philippians 1:27)

What will happen to you today?

Oh, you can probably guess a good portion of it, but you can’t be sure, can you?  Laughter, tears, love, anger, pain, joy, indigestion—who knows what the next hours hold?

Better question—How will you conduct yourself today?

Will your laughter be at others…or with them?

Will your tears be for yourself, or for the broken?

Will your love be selfish or selfless?

Will your anger be trivial or righteous?

And what of your pain?

And your joy?

Perhaps we need not elaborate on the indigestion.

Live worthy today, Beloved.

Happy Thursday.

I eagerly expect and hope that I will in no way be ashamed, but will have sufficient courage so that now as always Christ will be exalted in my body, whether by life or by death (Philippians 1:20).

The word that strikes me in this verse is courage.  The walk of faith is not for the faint of heart.  If I want my life to exalt Christ, it will take courage.

And I have so stinking little.

A while back, I encountered a man who was perhaps not entirely psycho-emotionally stable. Here’s the situation: I was sitting in a coffee shop, working on my One-a-Days.  This man was at a table right in the middle of the room. He sat alone, speaking at full volume, sort of streaming consciousness to the world at large. He waxed eloquent on politics and science and space aliens and economics and religion.  Conspiracy theories abounded, and though distracting, it was all quite entertaining.

Except

Some of what he was saying was a blatant denial of Christ.

And he was saying it to a room full of people.

I knew I should talk to him, I felt the nudge to engage, but for the longest time I just sat and tried to ignore him.

While I typed a devotion on preaching Christ.

Ironic much?

Why did I dread the thought of going over there? I mean, I’m a pretty talkative dude. It’s hard to articulate, but it comes down to fear.  Fear of being uncomfortable, fear of looking silly in front of the other customers, fear of being identified with Captain Disturbo, fear that I might not be able to answer his arguments effectively, and might end up doing more harm than good.

Fear

Eventually, I went over and engaged the man in gentle debate—if I hadn’t, I doubt that I would be sharing this story with you. Nothing dramatic happened.  There were no lightning bolts, no angelic choirs. He didn’t break into tears and confess his sins, but he didn’t shiv me, either. I didn’t change his mind, but I stood my ground.

Take those minor victories where you can get them, Beloved.

Pray for me, and I will pray for you, that today we will have the courage to exalt the One who loves us.

Be not ashamed, Beloved.

Happy Tuesday.