Perfect Peace for Anxious Souls

By: John Piper, desiringgod.org

John 14:27, “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid.” So in the last hour of his life, Jesus is helping you not be anxious. “Let not your hearts be troubled.” The peace he has in mind might include global, national, political, intra-ethnic or inter-ethnic peace. Those aren’t at the front of his mind, though, and I know it isn’t because of what he says: “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled.”

That’s what he has in mind. Of course, there are a thousand fruits. This is the root of a new world order, but on his mind is: “You look troubled. Your faces look trouble. I love you. I don’t like it when you look that way. I don’t want to leave you that way.” It’s that simple. It’s that precious. It’s that personal. It is. He says, “Heart — don’t let your heart be troubled. Not your globe, but don’t let your heart be troubled. Neither let it be afraid. I want you to be fearless, Peter. I want you to be a rock.”

“The peace that Jesus gives is not circumstantially based. It is peace in bad circumstances.”

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“Not as the world gives.” How does the world give peace? It does. The world gives peace with retirement accounts. The world gives peace with health insurance. The world gives peace with bomb shelters. The world gives peace with safety nets in the society. The world gives peace with police. The world gives peace of mind in a hundred ways, which I’m thankful for and I’m glad they exist. And Jesus says, “I’m not giving that way. That’s not what I’m doing.” “What do you mean, Jesus, that you’re not doing it that way?”

And Jesus responds, “I’m not giving you the kind of peace that can be taken away when the police go away. I’m not giving you the kind of peace that can be taken away in India no matter what. That is not what I’m about.” How do I know that he means that the world’s peace of mind is circumstantially based? Like, get health insurance, get a nice retirement account, live in the right neighborhood, get the right locks on your doors, and then you can have some peace of mind.

“That’s not what I’m giving you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. I’m giving you peace so that when the locks come off, the police go away, the mob comes, and your cross is on the horizon, you’ve still got it.” I know he has all this in mind because in John 16:33, he says the same thing, only he makes it explicit: “I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.”

The peace that Jesus gives is not circumstantially based. It is peace in bad circumstances, in tribulation, in no health insurance, and in police breakdown — in societal breakdown. It’s in these things we have peace — the peace that passes all human comprehension. Why did Paul call it that in Philippians 4:7? What does that mean? That means human beings can’t grasp it, and they can’t make it happen. God makes it happen.

Does he give us any clue as to how? Yes, he does. He calls it, “My peace.” “Peace I leave with you. My peace I give to you.” “I gave you my joy,” meaning, “I love the Father. I delight in the Father. The Father loves me. Come on in and have our love — our joy. I have a peace with the Father that is unrivaled,” Jesus says. “My peace is unrivaled in the universe. Would you like some of mine? Come on in.”

How do you get in? How do you get into the peace that Jesus enjoys with the Father? There’s no sin between the Son and the Father. The Son looks on the Father and he sees infinite original righteousness. The Father looks on the Son and sees infinite reflected righteousness. They love each other infinitely. They delight in what they see.

How are you going to get in on that? Because he says, “Let us go. I’m going to the cross tomorrow, and I’m going to purchase your forgiveness. I’m going to satisfy the Father’s wrath against all your unrighteousness and I’m going to provide a completed righteousness, so that if you would rest in me, trust me, you will now not just have a peace that I make, but a peace that I have with my Father. I’m making a way for you into the very experience, by the Spirit reigning in your heart, pouring out the peace that exists between the Father and the Son. I’m going to pour it out into your life, so that now you will have my faith and my joy and my peace.” We have a great Savior and a great salvation.

“Don’t let your heart be troubled. Don’t let it be afraid. Trust him.”

Right now, you can receive Jesus’s faith. Jesus was totally confident in his Father, in his cross-work, that Satan would be defeated, and all his saving work would be accomplished. And he invites you: “I’m showing these things to you so that you can believe with me,” and receive his joy, displayed most fully by enduring the cross to show the world, “I love the Father that much. I’m satisfied that much in the Father.”

And you can come on into this infinite, this Vesuvius, this volcanic love between the Son and the Father. Come on in. Receive this. Spend the rest of your life swimming in this ocean. If this sounds unusual to you — like you’ve never even heard anybody talk about inviting you into the very love that the Son has, the Father has, the joy between them, the peace between them — just enjoy the next thirty years of discovery. It’s very deep. It’s worthy of all your life.

Don’t walk out of here saying, “Oh, that’s heavy. They do heavy stuff at Bethlehem.” We don’t do heavy stuff. We swim. We just frolic in mystery and talk about it a little bit. Nobody knows anything, comparatively speaking. Receive his peace. “My peace I give to you. Not as the world gives.” Don’t let your heart be troubled. Don’t let it be afraid. Trust him.

Lessons From Isaiah

 

The Bridegroom and the Bride

By: George Young,  today.reframemedia.com

 

Scripture Reading — Isaiah 62:1-5

As a bridegroom rejoices over his bride, so will your God rejoice over you. — Isaiah 62:5

Marriage is a metaphor often used in the Bible to describe God’s love for his people. Certainly “treasures in heaven” has rich meaning, and the Lord often uses that phrase to express the infinite value of salvation and eternal life. But in Isaiah 62 and other passages, we also find word pictures describing the Lord as a bridegroom rejoicing over his people as his bride. It is a deeply personal metaphor.

Isaiah prophesied about the destruction of Jerusalem, the people’s exile to another land, and, later, their restoration. The promise of salvation is pictured this way: “No longer will they call you Deserted, or name your land Desolate. But you will be called Hephzibah [‘My Delight is in her’], and your land Beulah [‘Married’].” And “as a bridegroom rejoices over his bride, so will your God rejoice over you.”

Revelation 21:2-3 describes the “new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride beautifully dressed for her husband.” And a loud voice says, “Look! God’s dwelling place is now among the people. . . . They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God.”

We eagerly await that day. The new Jerusalem will shine “with the glory of God, and its brilliance [will be] like that of a very precious jewel” (Revelation 21:11). And “the Spirit and the bride say, ‘Come!’” (22:17).

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Call to Obedience

From: Kurt Sellers, today.reframemedia.com

  

Scripture Reading — Isaiah 6:1-10

I am ruined! For I am a man of unclean lips . . . and my eyes have seen the King, the Lord Almighty. — Isaiah 6:5

Occasionally I burn my fingers on our backyard grill. It’s usually not serious, but it definitely stings. Can you imagine the sting of a burning coal touching your lips? That’s what happens to Isaiah in his vision of heaven.

In the same year that Uzziah the king died, the prophet had a vision: he saw the King, the Lord Almighty, high on a throne, and his robe filled the temple. Hebrew tradition taught that no one could see God and live. Isaiah lamented his own uncleanness and that of the people of Israel. Then a seraph, an angel who ­attended God’s throne, used tongs to take a live coal from the temple altar. Touching it to the prophet’s lips, he cleansed Isaiah for service.

Purified, Isaiah could now answer God’s call. “Here am I. Send me!” His passion inspires us. But the rest of the passage is bleak. The people, still impure, hear God’s call, but their hearts remain callous and closed.

Still, there is hope for repentance; there is hope for the people to “turn and be healed.” And the holy seed of God’s faithfulness remains, and from that “stump in the land” a shoot will grow. Jesus, coming from the stump of Jesse (Isaiah 11:1), will restore God’s people.

Do you hear his call today? By the purifying fire of Christ and his Spirit, we can serve and glorify God wherever he calls and sends us.

Will You Just Trust Me?

AUGUST 2, 2019

Alicia Bruxvoort

“Trust in the LORD with all your heart; do not depend on your own understanding.” Proverbs 3:5 (NLT0

When we moved into our first little rental house with snaking sidewalks and a dandelion-dotted yard, my 2-year-old was fascinated with the back door. The door itself wasn’t anything special, but beyond its paint-chipped frame were soaring blue skies and soft green grass, a squat little sandbox and a big tall slide. And when those squeaky hinges swung open wide, our small son’s world opened wide, too.

Though Lukas wasn’t able to open the back door himself, he soon discovered that if he pounded persistently on that weary wood, I’d open the door with a playful push.

Down the hallway, there was a second door that intrigued my toddler too. However, this door didn’t lead to the great outdoors. It led to a storage closet piled high with a haphazard heap of boxes and crates.

Much to my toddler’s dismay, no amount of knocking made that closet door budge. I knew how quickly teetering boxes and careening crates could turn into a toddler-toppling-catastrophe, so I refused to turn the knob at his bidding.

Unfortunately, that closet door became a giant source of frustration for my wee one. Countless times a day, Lukas would pound on it with a tight-fisted rap. And when he’d realize his knocking was to no avail, he’d protest my response with a flush-faced wail.

Finally, one afternoon when my patience was waning and my son was sobbing, I slumped to the floor in front of that closet door and echoed my disgruntled boy’s cries.

When our wails finally turned to whimpers, I cupped Lukas’ crimson face and declared, “I love you too much to open this door!” Then, looking him in the eye, I pleaded, “Would you please just trust me?”

As my words hung heavy in the air between us, I felt a wave of conviction swell within me. You see, my toddler wasn’t the only one frustrated by closed doors; his mom was discouraged as well.

For years, I’d been asking God to open doors for me — doors of opportunity and advancement, doors of healing and gain. But God’s answer in that particular season of my life was “no.”

Little by little, I’d allowed those closed doors to open my heart to doubts:

Maybe God doesn’t care about my dreams.
Maybe God doesn’t listen to my prayers.
Maybe God isn’t good all the time.

But when I found myself sitting in a narrow hallway with a tantrum-throwing toddler on my lap and a swell of tears in my eyes, I realized the closed doors in my life weren’t much different than that tightly shut closet.

With the humility of a parent who is also a child, I finally recognized that God’s “no’s” aren’t a declaration of His displeasure, but an expression of His love.

God’s love is mighty enough to open any door and merciful enough to hold it shut. And when we remember that inarguable truth, we can admit that the closed doors in our lives don’t raise the question of God’s faithfulness; they reveal a quandary of our faith.

We may trust God to be the guardian of our souls, but will we trust Him to be the guardian of our doors as well?

It’s a question we all confront as we navigate the ever-changing landscapes of our lives. Perhaps that’s why Proverbs 3:5 advises us: “Trust in the Lord with all your heart; do not depend on your own understanding.”

It can be difficult to rest in God’s wisdom when we don’t understand His ways. But if we’re honest, our limited vision is no match for our Father’s sovereign sight. Just as my young son didn’t know what waited beyond the closet door, we can’t fully understand what lies on the other side of our prayers and pleas.

God sees the future, knows the past and directs our steps in the present with unchanging love.

All He asks of us is what I asked my son on that long-ago day in the hallway of our little rental house:

“Would you please just trust me?”

Called to Freedom

By: Lysa TerKeurst, proverbs31.org

“He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.” Philippians 1:6 (NIV)

Labels are awful. They imprison us in categories that are hard to escape. Maybe you are familiar with labels too …

I am a wreck.

I am a people-pleaser.

I am unglued.

I am an insecure mess.

And the list goes on.

With all the struggles my family has been through this past year, it’s hard to look at social media and not feel the weight of life looking so different than I thought it would.

I labeled our situation as a mess and then resigned myself to never feeling normal again.

But one day, I found hope in an unexpected memory that came to mind.

I don’t often visit museums. However, I’d read some fascinating facts about Michelangelo’s David,and made it my mission several years ago to go and see the original at the Accademia Gallery in Florence, Italy.

Sources say the artist never left his David. For more than two years, he worked on and slept beside the 6-ton slab of marble whose subject called to him from inside the unchiseled places. When at last the 17-foot David emerged, Michelangelo is reported to have said, “I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set him free.” When asked how he made his statue, Michelangelo answered, “It is easy. You just chip away the stone that doesn’t look like David.”

After a two-hour wait in a long line of tourists, I was about to see it for myself. I stopped just inside the narrow corridor, still 30 feet from the David. This was not where everyone else wanted to stop, and so I caused a bit of a traffic jam.

I understood why everyone rushed past me. Why would anyone stop to stare at the unfinished sculptures lining the hallway? Why attend to blocks of stone with roughly hewn, half-completed figures when sculpted perfection stands just a short walk away? Who would stop?

A woman captivated by seeing her interior reality vividly depicted in stone, that’s who. I stood in the shadow of one of the unfinished sculptures that’s part of this collection aptly titled Prisoners. And I stared.

I tilted my head and let it soak in. This less-noticed sculpture was me — an unfinished prisoner locked inside my self-imposed labels.

Then, I turned and looked down the corridor at the David, the statue fully chiseled by a master artist. As I walked toward it, I whispered, “O God, chisel me. I don’t want to be locked in my hard perceptions forever. I want to be all that You have in mind for me to be.”

It is beautiful when the Master chisels. God doesn’t want us to label ourselves and stay stuck. But He does want to make us aware of the chiseling that needs to be done. So, instead of condemning myself with statements like, I’m such a mess, I could say, Let God chisel. Let Him work on my hard places so I can leave the dark places of being stuck and come into the light of who He designed me to be.

God is calling us out — out of darkness, out from those places we thought would never get better, out of being stuck. And with His call comes His promise that He will complete the good work He began in us. (Philippians 1:6)

No Expiration Date

By; Janet Perez Eckles, 1.cbn.com

“But I will sing of your strength, in the morning I will sing of your love; for you are my fortress, my refuge in times of trouble.” (Psalm 59:16 NIV).

“Sure, Mom, but I’m a little low on gas,” Jeff, my college-aged son said when I asked for a ride.

Since the time each of my three sons received their driver’s license, driving their blind Mom is part of the process. And to their joy, I never comment about their driving skills. I don’t correct them, nor make any criticism. And perhaps for that reason, they’re always willing to provide transportation.

I held Jeff’s arm as we made our way to the driveway. He opened the car door. “Let me help you, Mom.”

As he slammed the squeaky door, he warned, “Keep your feet back, Mom. There are wires hanging from the dashboard.”

“Yikes!”

I settled in my seat and with one hand, I lifted the roof lining that rested on the top of my head.

“Sorry Mom, I need to glue that back up.”

A loud pop startled me. “What was that?”

“Just a loose wire in the radio — got to slam it to make it work.”

Jeff’s car, with each turn of its bald tires, begs to be laid to rest at the nearest salvage yard. But Jeff’s appearance? Gracious, what a contrast! Neatly shaven, clean haircut, and dressed in stylish designer clothes.

The condition of Jeff’s car and his personal grooming mirrors my life. I encountered devastating malfunctions while moving down the road of life. Adversity had rusted my soul, dented my confidence, and scratched at my sense of purpose. Worn out, I was a candidate for the emotional junkyard.

But when it all threatened to crumble, like Jeff’s appearance, I kept one area of my life well-guarded and cared for — my faith in Christ. And with each trial I encountered, my well-polished trust in Him saved me from despair and defeat.

When I lost my sight, fear of living in darkness nearly devastated me, but God promised to be:

“a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path.” (Psalm 119:105 KJV)

My husband’s sudden unemployment threatened to drown us in financial ruin. But God’s reminder lifted me to safety:

“When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you … ” (Isaiah 43:2 NIV)

And when the flames of sorrow scorched my heart after losing Jeff’s 19-year-old brother to a senseless murder, God refreshed my soul:

“When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze.” (Isaiah 43:2)

Whenever painful circumstances threaten to drive me toward the emotional salvage yard, my faith and trust in God’s Word craft an overhaul of my soul. It includes a warranty offered by God, the master mechanic — coverage for any future malfunctions in life. In large print, the guarantee reads: NO EXPIRATION – PAID IN FULL BY MY SON, JESUS.

Father, thank You for renewing my soul with the clarity of your promises and the comfort of Your Word. May I be a vehicle to carry an example of your restoring power that turns the darkness of sorrow to the glow of your grace.