Have you ever been suddenly awakened around 3 am and found yourself wrestling with dark thoughts and fears? Did you feel a sense of helplessness? This time period between 3-6 am was defined by the Romans as the fourth watch of the night. It is a time usually reserved for sleep, but there are battles in the night that make sleep an impossibility. When awakened in the fourth watch, we are keenly aware of our vulnerability, and prayer often becomes a plea for help.
Jacob wrestled with God during this time period, having been told that his brother Esau was coming to meet him with 400 men. Esau had had a grudge against Jacob and had determined in his heart to kill him. Jacob felt his vulnerability: Esau had his 400 men; Jacob had his wives, children and livestock. What did Jacob do? He wrestled until daybreak. In the morning his name was changed from Jacob to Israel because he had struggled with both God and man and had prevailed.
It was dark when the Israelites looked up and saw Pharaoh, his troops and 600 of Pharaoh’s best chariots bearing down on them. Yes, they had left Egypt triumphantly, but now in the dark they were trapped by the sea and they were terrified! But the God who led them out of Egypt was also the Lord of the wind, the waves and the sea. The answer to the vulnerability of the Israelites was the power of the Almighty God. He drove the sea back with a powerful east wind all night. God’s people went through the sea on dry ground. The Lord had promised to fight their battles and He did. The enemy, however, was overthrown into the sea.
Jesus had instructed His disciples to go ahead of Him to Bethsaida. “When evening came, the boat was in the middle of the sea, and He was alone on land. He saw them being battered as they rowed, because the wind was against them. Around three in morning He came towards them walking on the sea and wanted to pass by them” (Mark 6:47-48). Wait! He saw them in the middle of the sea being battered by the wind and He wanted to pass by them?! Why?
What happened when Jacob wrestled all night with the angel? He was given a new name. But from then on he walked with a limp so that at the end of his life he worshiped while leaning on a staff, a reminder that he was dependent on something more than his own strength. His night of wrestling with the Lord showed him his relationship to an Almighty God. For the children of Israel, it was in the night that God showed His power to save. It was Jesus who led His disciples into the boat. In the boat at night their faith was tested.
My faith is often tested in the night. When all I can see is my vulnerability, do I really believe in an Almighty God? But it’s in the night, when my vulnerability is exposed, that I encounter Jesus who can walk on water. And by faith I hear Him say, “Have courage! It is I. Don’t be afraid.” This is what happens in the fourth watch of the night.
Friday, June 21, 2019
Tuesday, June 18, 2019
Unseen Footprints in the Storm (Mark 6:47-50)
I was rearranging the books on my bookshelf when I found it hidden behind some larger volumes. It was a diary that had been given to my daughter over twenty years ago when she graduated from high school and left home. On the cover was a picture of a slightly opened gate and below was written, “Your future is as bright as the promises of God.” I still remember walking into her almost empty room and finding the diary on the floor in the corner. She hadn’t wanted it so I asked if I could use it, now that she was gone, to share my thoughts with her.
The first entry was marked 6/13/97. It read, “Faith, it’s midnight and I miss you. I have found it hard to sleep tonight. There’s an emptiness in the house and in my heart.” I didn’t realize when I wrote those words that there would be many sleepless nights to come. I didn’t know that I was going into a storm. The book became my companion as I tried to navigate the storm in the dark night of my soul where all the things that I believed seemed to be put to the test.
As I read through the entries in the diary I was reminded of storms that the disciples encountered in the ship at night. The first time they woke Jesus with the words, “Teacher! Don’t you care that we’re going to die?” (Mark 4:38). The storm had exposed their vulnerability but it had also exposed who they thought Jesus was--a teacher. However, when He spoke to the wind and the sea and they had obeyed Him they asked, “Who is this?” In the second storm they are alone in the boat being battered as they rowed, because the wind was against them. Again it was the dark of night. Once more Jesus showed that He was Lord of the storm by walking on the water.
As I read through the pages that I had written so long ago, the memories came alive. I could feel again not only my connection with the disciples, but also with the psalmist who penned the words, “I cry aloud to God, aloud to God, and He will hear me. In my day of trouble I sought the Lord. My hands were lifted up all night long; I refused to be comforted” (Psalm 77:1,2). Being in a storm strips away the veneer and leaves behind the naked, exposed soul. What can be hidden in the light of day is revealed in the darkness of a stormy night.
I would discard this diary if the only thing I found there was my own vulnerability. But what I found revealed in its pages was a reflection of what both the psalmist and the disciples discovered. “The sound of Your thunder was in the whirlwind; lightning lit up the world. The earth shook and quaked. Your way went through the sea, and Your path through the great waters, but Your footprints were unseen” (Psalm 77:18,19). There in the pages of this diary as I wrestled in the darkness in the storm I began to get a glimpse of the unseen footprints of my shepherd.
The book had been lost for over twenty years, but now that my daughter is the age that I was when I wrote it for her, perhaps she’ll understand. Yes, perhaps she’ll understand.
The first entry was marked 6/13/97. It read, “Faith, it’s midnight and I miss you. I have found it hard to sleep tonight. There’s an emptiness in the house and in my heart.” I didn’t realize when I wrote those words that there would be many sleepless nights to come. I didn’t know that I was going into a storm. The book became my companion as I tried to navigate the storm in the dark night of my soul where all the things that I believed seemed to be put to the test.
As I read through the entries in the diary I was reminded of storms that the disciples encountered in the ship at night. The first time they woke Jesus with the words, “Teacher! Don’t you care that we’re going to die?” (Mark 4:38). The storm had exposed their vulnerability but it had also exposed who they thought Jesus was--a teacher. However, when He spoke to the wind and the sea and they had obeyed Him they asked, “Who is this?” In the second storm they are alone in the boat being battered as they rowed, because the wind was against them. Again it was the dark of night. Once more Jesus showed that He was Lord of the storm by walking on the water.
As I read through the pages that I had written so long ago, the memories came alive. I could feel again not only my connection with the disciples, but also with the psalmist who penned the words, “I cry aloud to God, aloud to God, and He will hear me. In my day of trouble I sought the Lord. My hands were lifted up all night long; I refused to be comforted” (Psalm 77:1,2). Being in a storm strips away the veneer and leaves behind the naked, exposed soul. What can be hidden in the light of day is revealed in the darkness of a stormy night.
I would discard this diary if the only thing I found there was my own vulnerability. But what I found revealed in its pages was a reflection of what both the psalmist and the disciples discovered. “The sound of Your thunder was in the whirlwind; lightning lit up the world. The earth shook and quaked. Your way went through the sea, and Your path through the great waters, but Your footprints were unseen” (Psalm 77:18,19). There in the pages of this diary as I wrestled in the darkness in the storm I began to get a glimpse of the unseen footprints of my shepherd.
The book had been lost for over twenty years, but now that my daughter is the age that I was when I wrote it for her, perhaps she’ll understand. Yes, perhaps she’ll understand.
Tuesday, June 11, 2019
Feed My Sheep (Mark 6:30-44)
“Do you love me?... Feed my sheep.” After Peter’s greatest failure, when he felt broken, Jesus asked him three times, “Do you love me?” Three times Peter was instructed to feed and shepherd Jesus’ sheep. I wonder if Peter was not only reminded of denying Jesus three times, but also of the time when they had gone to a remote place to rest only to encounter a multitude. He had been there when Jesus stepped ashore; when Jesus saw the huge crowd and had compassion on them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd.
How did Jesus shepherd His flock? In Mark it says that He taught them many things. In His teaching He pulled back the curtains of heaven and showed them a glimpse of the eternal kingdom. On that day, in that remote place, the crowd tasted the bread of life. They drank living water from the Rock. On that day the Shepherd cared for His sheep, and their souls and spirits rested and were satisfied. But their stomachs were empty.
The disciples who had hoped to find rest and not a multitude in that remote place suggested sending the crowd away. How did they know the crowd was hungry? Because they were hungry! Jesus, however, had a different idea. “You give them something to eat.” I wonder if Peter’s memory flashed back to this scene when, on a different shore, Jesus told Peter that if he loved Him he would feed His sheep.
It was an impossible request! How could they feed 5,000 men, not even counting any women and children that might be there! They were incredulous! Jesus’ response to them was similar to what God said to Moses when He gave him the task of shepherding His people out of Egypt. God asked Moses, “What is in your hand?” Jesus asked His disciples what they already had. They brought what they had to Jesus, He broke it, multiplied it, and gave it back to them to distribute.
Peter had felt inadequate when Jesus had asked him to feed the 5,000, and I think he felt that same sense of inadequacy when Jesus told him on a different shore that, if he loved Him, to feed His sheep. Jesus had broken the bread before He multiplied it. Before Peter could shepherd and feed Jesus’ sheep, he too had been broken. “Do you love me?” What does loving Jesus look like? If you are being shepherded by Jesus, where does He take you? I think I find the answer to those questions in this story.
How did Jesus shepherd His flock? In Mark it says that He taught them many things. In His teaching He pulled back the curtains of heaven and showed them a glimpse of the eternal kingdom. On that day, in that remote place, the crowd tasted the bread of life. They drank living water from the Rock. On that day the Shepherd cared for His sheep, and their souls and spirits rested and were satisfied. But their stomachs were empty.
The disciples who had hoped to find rest and not a multitude in that remote place suggested sending the crowd away. How did they know the crowd was hungry? Because they were hungry! Jesus, however, had a different idea. “You give them something to eat.” I wonder if Peter’s memory flashed back to this scene when, on a different shore, Jesus told Peter that if he loved Him he would feed His sheep.
It was an impossible request! How could they feed 5,000 men, not even counting any women and children that might be there! They were incredulous! Jesus’ response to them was similar to what God said to Moses when He gave him the task of shepherding His people out of Egypt. God asked Moses, “What is in your hand?” Jesus asked His disciples what they already had. They brought what they had to Jesus, He broke it, multiplied it, and gave it back to them to distribute.
Peter had felt inadequate when Jesus had asked him to feed the 5,000, and I think he felt that same sense of inadequacy when Jesus told him on a different shore that, if he loved Him, to feed His sheep. Jesus had broken the bread before He multiplied it. Before Peter could shepherd and feed Jesus’ sheep, he too had been broken. “Do you love me?” What does loving Jesus look like? If you are being shepherded by Jesus, where does He take you? I think I find the answer to those questions in this story.
Saturday, June 8, 2019
Transformed From Death to Life
There is something soothing about the rhythmic click of knitting needles. This is particularly true after the heart has been wounded. What I have found in my life is that when a wounded heart is untended, bitterness begins to grow. Every time the hurtful scene is replayed on the mind’s eye the bitter root grows deeper. Along with the growth of this bitter root, if you listen carefully you will hear the faint click, click, click of the knitting needle.
Each detail is carefully knit into a shroud so that by the time bitterness has finished its work the shroud is ready to wrap the relationship that has been strangled to death. Sometimes we deceive ourselves and think that we’ve been knitting a blanket where we can find comfort as we rehearse all the details of how we have been wronged. Each shroud has unique colors and patterns. But shrouds, no matter how well they are crafted, are for covering the dead.
Bitterness brings with it death. Not only does it kill relationships but with each strangled, shrouded relationship part of our own heart dies as well. This is oppression. And according to Proverbs 15:15, “All the days of the oppressed are miserable.” I have both seen and known this misery.
Something that has died cannot bring itself back to life. Something that has been wrapped in a shroud cannot unbind itself. But there is good news. Even though we cannot call a corpse to come forth from the tomb, Jesus can.
When Jesus called Lazarus to come forth from his tomb he was still bound by grave cloths. It took the hands of others to set him free. I prefer to be independent when I’ve been hurt or wounded; however, true freedom from shrouds of bitterness calls for humility. When the heart has been released from bitterness, it is transformed from death to life. That which had been shrouded in misery is now invited to a feast.
Each detail is carefully knit into a shroud so that by the time bitterness has finished its work the shroud is ready to wrap the relationship that has been strangled to death. Sometimes we deceive ourselves and think that we’ve been knitting a blanket where we can find comfort as we rehearse all the details of how we have been wronged. Each shroud has unique colors and patterns. But shrouds, no matter how well they are crafted, are for covering the dead.
Bitterness brings with it death. Not only does it kill relationships but with each strangled, shrouded relationship part of our own heart dies as well. This is oppression. And according to Proverbs 15:15, “All the days of the oppressed are miserable.” I have both seen and known this misery.
Something that has died cannot bring itself back to life. Something that has been wrapped in a shroud cannot unbind itself. But there is good news. Even though we cannot call a corpse to come forth from the tomb, Jesus can.
When Jesus called Lazarus to come forth from his tomb he was still bound by grave cloths. It took the hands of others to set him free. I prefer to be independent when I’ve been hurt or wounded; however, true freedom from shrouds of bitterness calls for humility. When the heart has been released from bitterness, it is transformed from death to life. That which had been shrouded in misery is now invited to a feast.
Saturday, June 1, 2019
Part of a Greater Story (Mark 6:21-33)
Sometimes, in order to understand what is happening in my life, I remind myself that the story of my life is more than the chapter that I’m living at the present. I also find meaning when I think about my life being part of a eternal story written by God Himself. He is both the author and the finisher of my faith and the story of my life.
John the Baptist and Jesus were cousins. The prediction of John’s birth broke the 400 years of silence between the Old and New Testament. When John spoke, hearts and minds were stirred. Everyone who heard him was filled with a sense of anticipation. After he baptized Jesus he said, “He must increase and I must decrease” (John 3:30). However, I don’t think he had any idea about what that would look like.
It wasn’t until after John was arrested that Jesus began His ministry in Galilee. And why was John arrested? It was because he boldly confronted Herod for marrying Herodias, his brother’s wife. He remained in Herod’s prison while Jesus increased in popularity. At the height of Jesus’ ministry John was beheaded by Herod at the request of his step-daughter, who had pleased him by her seductive dance. How can this make sense, and how did Jesus respond? “When Jesus heard about it, He withdrew from there by boat to a remote place to be alone” (Matthew 14:13).
He not only withdrew to be alone for Himself but for His Apostles’ sake as well. He had sent them out on their first missionary journey, and when they returned they were full of excitement at what they had experienced. His popularity was so great that they didn’t even have time to eat. When the soul becomes wrinkled by grief or exhaustion there is a deep longing for solitude. But solitude wasn’t what was waiting for Jesus in that remote place. His ministry had increased, and where He went the crowds followed.
The only way I can make sense of John’s imprisonment and beheading is to see it as a chapter of a larger story than the story of his life. Jesus’ message was that the kingdom of God had come near. To understand this kingdom, you must view life through the lens of eternity. When you see your life through an eternal lens you are able to walk by faith, being sure of what you hope for, and confident about what you do not see. I believe that this was how John lived his life, and this is how I want to live my life as well.
John the Baptist and Jesus were cousins. The prediction of John’s birth broke the 400 years of silence between the Old and New Testament. When John spoke, hearts and minds were stirred. Everyone who heard him was filled with a sense of anticipation. After he baptized Jesus he said, “He must increase and I must decrease” (John 3:30). However, I don’t think he had any idea about what that would look like.
It wasn’t until after John was arrested that Jesus began His ministry in Galilee. And why was John arrested? It was because he boldly confronted Herod for marrying Herodias, his brother’s wife. He remained in Herod’s prison while Jesus increased in popularity. At the height of Jesus’ ministry John was beheaded by Herod at the request of his step-daughter, who had pleased him by her seductive dance. How can this make sense, and how did Jesus respond? “When Jesus heard about it, He withdrew from there by boat to a remote place to be alone” (Matthew 14:13).
He not only withdrew to be alone for Himself but for His Apostles’ sake as well. He had sent them out on their first missionary journey, and when they returned they were full of excitement at what they had experienced. His popularity was so great that they didn’t even have time to eat. When the soul becomes wrinkled by grief or exhaustion there is a deep longing for solitude. But solitude wasn’t what was waiting for Jesus in that remote place. His ministry had increased, and where He went the crowds followed.
The only way I can make sense of John’s imprisonment and beheading is to see it as a chapter of a larger story than the story of his life. Jesus’ message was that the kingdom of God had come near. To understand this kingdom, you must view life through the lens of eternity. When you see your life through an eternal lens you are able to walk by faith, being sure of what you hope for, and confident about what you do not see. I believe that this was how John lived his life, and this is how I want to live my life as well.
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