God’s Way

So Gideon took the men down to the water.                          Judges 7.5

I find this to be a most remarkable statement in the story of Gideon. Gideon saw himself as least in his family which was part of the weakest clan in Manasseh. Yet God had commissioned him as a mighty warrior. God’s purpose for Gideon was that he should annihilate the forces of Midian.

Before Gideon’s troops are amassed we read that ‘the Spirit of the Lord came upon’ him.

Thirty two thousand men had assembled under Gideon. This in itself is quite a statement of support for the least son of a weak family! God did not want the battle waged with such a high number of combatants else the Israelites might think they had won by their own power. God sought to reduce the Israelite numbers. In the first purge, twenty two thousand troops went home, leaving ten thousand with Gideon. This was a dramatic reduction. I wonder what effect it had on Gideon’s confidence. He could well have said, “Phew, that’s quite a reduction. Let’s leave it at that!”

God was not satisfied. The remaining ten thousand men were far too many for God. This is when He said to Gideon, “Take them down to the water, and I will sift them for you there.” I could well understand Gideon remonstrating rather loudly at this point, perhaps saying, “Lord, that’s enough. I’ve already lost the greater proportion on my men.” Does he do this? No, in total obedience he ‘took the men down to the water.’

I see this brief phrase as the most amazing statement of faith. Gideon – the least of the weakest – is transformed into God’s warrior.

It’s not how I see me that matters. It’s how God sees me, and how I respond to Him. I can remonstrate with Him in disbelief or I can, in faith, offer myself completely to him and be led by Him, in total obedience, in all that I do.

Lord God,

I am Yours. I give myself fully to You. Whatever Your plans and purposes are for me, I will in faith follow You. I rejoice in You. Hallelujah!      Amen.

Cry out!

I cry to you, O Lord; I say, “You are my refuge, my portion in the land of the living.”                                                                                                                              Psalm 142.5

The psalmist speaks of being faint in spirit. He talks of men hiding snares in his path to trap him, and bring him down. He complains that no one is concerned for him, he has no refuge, no one cares for his life.

Indeed, his plight is altogether similar to one that I have felt many times.

But it is almost as if this person pulls himself up, in the midst of his self-pity, and cries out to the Lord. He begs God to heed his cry in his desperate need. He pleads with God to rescue him from his unhealthy pursuers. He recognises that they are too strong for him. He asks God to set him free from his prison.

This is what I must do, and I need to do it with the same understanding that the psalmist had.

The psalmist knew he could call on God and be heard and answered. He knew this for, before seeking this help and deliverance from God, he declared:

            You are my refuge, my portion in the land of the living.

God is indeed my refuge. He is the one place, the only place, where I am completely safe. He is the place for me to hide, to let go of everything, to relax and rest, to restore and refresh, to be filled anew with peace, power and strength, the strength of the Triune God – Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Together they love and care for me. Together they sustain me, they strengthen me, protect me, make every provision for me and lead me forward into life and living. God is my portion ‘in the land of the living’. In my present day-to-day living, God is there for me, with me, and in me. He is all I need. If I turn to Him with all of my being, He will fill me with all of His being.

Lord God,

I turn to You in thanksgiving and delight. I join with the psalmist and declare You to be my portion in the land of the living. I confess You as Lord of my life. I ask You to lead me forward in Your way. Direct my steps. Show me the way, the specific, carefully chosen way that You would have me go.

You are my portion, my only portion, in the land of the living. I ask You to fill me, and strengthen me to live patently in You, that all might see, and know, that I am Yours, that my only strength and sustenance is in You. I praise You. I rejoice that You are there for me,  sinner that I am.

I come before You in confession and repentance. Forgive me my sins, O Lord. Set me free from the hold of evil, protect me from the attacks of the enemy. You are my portion. I loudly and strongly declare this. Lead me forward, in love and strength, in Jesus’ name I ask,                                                                                                                                              Amen.

Receive the rain

Land that drinks in the rain often falling on it and that produces a crop useful to those for whom it is farmed receives the blessing of God.                                                    Heb. 6.7

There is much for me to ponder in these words. I think of the rain falling on the land that is me, and that might lead me to produce a useful crop. This rain can easily appear to me with an extremely negative impact. At best it can be a nuisance, at worst it takes on the form of the most miserable, soul-destroying experience, that begs the question, “Why me?”

I can be tempted to see the effects of this rain as totally destructive to me and achieving nothing whatsoever for God or for anyone else. And this is where I am in danger of giving in to delusion.

The first words of this verse Land that drinks in the rain... suggest to me that the land has the option of receiving the rain or rejecting it. In the literal example of land, I see how a hard crust on the earth’s surface can cause the rain to run off and drain away rather than sink into the subsoil and impart nutrients and goodness.

Likewise I have the option, when it rains, to raise my protective covering and steel myself against the precipitation. This, of course would deny me receiving any goodness from it. In dire moments even a light shower can appear as the most dangerous storm. This intensifies my self-protective instinct to resist with all my being.

How then can I receive, and drink in the rain, enabling it to produce a crop useful to others? I see the way as that of surrender. I do not resist the rainfall, whether it comes as a brief shower or a sustained downpour. Neither do I surrender to the rain. Rather I yield and surrender myself and the wet weather to God. If I allow it, He will enable me to receive the rain, to drink it in such that goodness can come to me from it. God may then use this good crop to “feed”, to encourage, others. As this happens they will be blessed. So, also will I be blessed.

Returning to the literal illustration, as the land absorbs the rain, the rain disappears. It’s the land that benefits not the rain. As I give myself and my situation to God in trials and tribulations, the antagonistic element will, in time, be dealt with by God. And I will have been further formed by Him, and possibly released from bondages as He works in me. As in my every involvement with God, the choice is mine to make.

Lord God,

I thank You for this revelation of the good crop that can come from stormy weather. I surrender to You in all of my living, on fine days and foul. I particularly seek Your protection and leading when the weather turns bad. In these times give me the courage to come to You and trust You for the right outcome. I pray this in Jesus’ name.                            Amen.

Acceptance

“Quick! Bring the best robe and put it on him. Put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. Bring the fattened calf and kill it. Let’s have a feast and celebrate.                                                   Luke 15.22,23

The prodigal son has returned and the father calls for celebration. Each of the symbols in the above verses is a sign of position and acceptance. The long robe signifies distinction, the signet ring is of authority and sandals signify sonship, for slaves went barefoot. The fattened calf was kept for a special occasion.

History has labelled the younger son as a prodigal but it’s surely the father’s amazing behaviour that earns the description of prodigal – foolishly and recklessly extravagant.

And so it is in heaven. Our Father rejoices in reckless abandon and foolish extravagance when just one lost sinner returns to Him. The returning son or daughter is feted in grand style. Position and acceptance are assured, and the entry into the greatest royal family of all is accompanied by exquisite peace and unimaginable joy.

This is how it is for me. This is how it will be for all who come into the Kingdom. Misery, poverty, hunger and sickness, want of any kind will be over, to be replaced with joy, riches, plenty, health and goodness in abundance.

The kingdom of heaven is now and, whilst I may not presently enjoy the full benefits of the eternal kingdom, I can certainly know that they are there for me and that very knowledge has a positive and enriching effect on the here and now.

Yes, I am a child of God, meant for the fullness of kingdom life. I live that life now in part of its fullness, but one day I shall enter into abundance. Whilst I look forward, I do not miss out on the present moment. I rejoice that all my days are spent in His kingdom.

Father God,

You brought me back to You and I am truly grateful. The story of the prodigal son gives me some insight to Your reaction when a lost soul returns, but I’m not sure that I get the full impact of this. That You rejoice in a foolishly extravagant way is perhaps beyond my comprehension. That I am fitted with insignia of position and acceptance is overwhelming. Yet this is so, for Your Word tells me. And this is the way for all those who come to You.

Lord God, Heavenly Father, I rejoice and extol Your great and wonderful being. I pray for those who are yet to come to You. I pray for those I know – my family members, friends, neighbours and acquaintances. Lord, Your Word says that none come to You unless the Father calls them. I ask You to call them, Heavenly Dad. I offer myself to be used in any way You would choose to use me, but I ask You to call the lost that I know of, and make them Yours. And after them, others – more and more. Lord, bring all to You, in Jesus, Name I ask.

                                                                                                                                    Amen.

Who are you, Lord?

He asked, “Who are you, Lord?”                                                                  Acts 9.5

I find this question to be so exciting, and more than a little enigmatic in regard to the answer it might bring.

It is asked by Paul, as Saul, when he is bombarded by the bright light on the road to Damascus. The answer he receives is:

            “I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting.”

From what we know of Paul’s subsequent relationship with Jesus it is clear that he, in time, received much revelation and insight in response to this question. Paul knew and loved Jesus. I sense that Paul got quite a full answer to his question, “Who are you, Lord?”

I pray I will, over the course of time, receive a full answer. I pray that I might come to know and love Jesus as Paul did.

Lord Jesus,

I want to ask “Who are You?”

I know who You are, but I want to know You more. I desire a closer habitation with You. I seek a deeper relationship with You. The question, “Who are You, Lord?” excites me. It opens my mind and my heart to all sorts of wonderful revelations of You, to the most amazing insights and sharings with You, and to a life lived completely in Your company.

This is what I want, Lord. I want to know You and to live in the fullness of life in You. Show me who You are, in Your precious name I ask.               Amen.