Dimensions

Posted on May 3, 2024 by Pete

Ever done it? Have you ever laid on the grass or on the beach on a clear day and just looked up? Like, looked waaay up? Trying to spot where the sky ends and realizing afresh you can’t? Or, how about being away from city lights on a clear night and looking up into the cosmos? In wonder at what your eye can see but knowing how little of it is actually being seen. If you’ve done either of those things, or something similar, then you’ve done it. You’ve measured the love of God.

For as high as the heavens are above the earth,
so great is [the LORD’s] steadfast love toward those who fear Him;
as far as the east is from the west,
so far does He remove our transgressions from us.

(Psalm 103:11-12 ESV)

As high as the heavens are above the earth . . .

How high are the heavens above the earth? Pretty high! Then, how great is the steadfast love of the LORD? Pretty great!

Can you comprehend how high are the heavens? Not really. Then, can you comprehend how great the steadfast love of the LORD? Probably not.

As far as the east is from the west . . .

How far is the east from the west? To quote any five-year-old, “Like, infinity?”

What compelled the Father to send His Son in order to atone for our sin so that He could justly “remove” our sin to such an extent? The steadfast love of the LORD. Which is pretty high and pretty great! For the LORD is “abounding in steadfast love” (Ps. 103:8b).

As high as the heavens are above the earth. As far as the east is from the west. Those are the dimensions. The dimensions of God’s steadfast love.

Chew on that for a bit!

Oh, and there’s one more measurement to consider. We know how high (higher than we are able to think). We know how wide (so wide there are no end points). The songwriter also lets us in on how long.

The steadfast love of the LORD is
from everlasting to everlasting on those who fear Him.

(Psalm 103:17 ESV)

What’s the shelf-life of the LORD’s love? Forever! What’s the expiration date on it? Never! Indefinite, unending, perpetual, always always.

There! We’ve measured the love of God. We’ve defined its dimensions.

Nah, we haven’t. You can’t measure the measureless.

But we can respond to it.

Bless the LORD, O my soul,
and forget not all His benefits,
who forgives all your iniquity,
who heals all your diseases,
who redeems your life from the pit,
who crowns you with steadfast love and mercy.

(Psalm 103:2-4 ESV)

God’s steadfast love, not just for measuring. Meant for wearing. Much more than unfathomable dimensions, the undeniable experience of the redeemed. Pretty high. Pretty wide. Pretty much forever.

Only known by His grace. To Him be all glory.

Bless the LORD!

Could we with ink the ocean fill,
And were the skies of parchment made;
Were every stalk on earth a quill,
And every man a scribe by trade;
To write the love of God above
Would drain the ocean dry;
Nor could the scroll contain the whole,
Though stretched from sky to sky.

(The Love of God, Frederick Martin Lehman © 1923, 1951 by Hope Publishing)

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Grieved Into Repenting

Posted on May 2, 2024 by Pete

Truth is, give me the choice between happy and sad and I’ll take happy every time. Don’t care much for sad. Just as soon avoid sorrow. Even less a fan of the sort of heartache caused by someone calling me out on something I need to be called out on.

Although I know I should welcome “constructive feedback”, when it’s input about my iniquities it can sting — like really sting! More often than not, it’s hard to hear when it hits home and brings to light something I’d prefer remain hidden. But as I read 2Corinthians 7 this morning, I’m reminded there’s a place for and blessing associated with experiencing what Paul calls “a godly grief”.

As it is, I rejoice, not because you were grieved, but because you were grieved into repenting. For you felt a godly grief, so that you suffered no loss through us. For godly grief produces a repentance that leads to salvation without regret, whereas worldly grief produces death. For see what earnestness this godly grief has produced in you . . .

(2Corinthians 7:9-11a ESV)

Paul had grieved those at the church in Corinth with a letter he had written in which he had said some tough stuff that needed saying. If the letter Paul’s referring to here is 1Corinthians, perhaps what brought them sorrow was Paul’s strong rebuke concerning tolerating sin in their midst . . . or allowing congregational politics to fracture their fellowship . . . or their trigger-finger in being willing to go to court in order to settle disputes among themselves . . . or their disregard for the Lord’s table. Whatever the matter was it had brought grief and sorrow to the believers at Corinth. But, says Paul, it was a productive sorrow. A godly grief. A sadness that led to turning things around. Heartache which revived an earnestness for the kingdom. They were grieved into repenting.

And I’m reminded that sometimes, though I don’t welcome it or like going through it, being made sorrowful or suffering grief can be used of God as part of His sanctification toolkit. In this case, it’s not sadness borne of misfortune. Nor is it sorrow due to what someone else is going through. Instead, it’s grief which comes from being confronted with, or made aware of, sin in my life.

I don’t like even typing that . . . sin in my life. But sometimes God will open the door on rooms I’ve tried to keep closed. Sometimes He’ll cause me to peek under the carpet where I’ve swept some dirt. Sometimes he’ll send a friend to shed light on something I’ve tried to keep hidden in the dark. And in those sometimes, it causes grief, it produces sorrow. The soul is downcast. The gut is in knots. The chest weighs heavy. Not a place I like being.

But it can be a productive place. Though it’s a barren feeling, when this sort of sorrow leads to repentance, it actually bears the fruit of righteousness (Heb. 12:11).

It’s not a grief which results in shrinking away in hopeless despair, but grief that compels us toward God’s holy throne. Grief which moves us to enlist the One who ever lives to make intercession for us (Heb. 7:25). Grief which moves us to confessing our wrong-doing and asking for forgiveness. Grief that reminds us afresh that we are loved sons and daughters of God, not because of our worthiness, but solely because of the finished work of His Son on Calvary’s cross.

A grief which results in us being grieved into repenting. So that, at the foot of the cross, our sorrow for sin is swallowed up by a fresh encounter with an ocean of grace. Our grief giving way to gratefulness. Our sadness displaced by joy, knowing again that if we confess our sin, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness (1John 1:9).

Nope, don’t like sad. But when it’s a sad caused by the inner voice of the Spirit or by the audible voice of a brother or sister being obedient to the Spirit, when it’s sad shedding light on an area that needs to be brought to light, I want it to be a sad which produces a hunger and thirst for righteousness, His righteousness. I want it to be a regret that results in reconciliation and a renewed abiding with the Savior. While I don’t much like going through it, I want to be grieved into repenting . . .

Only by His grace. Always for His glory.

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How I Identify

Posted on May 1, 2024 by Pete

How one “identifies” has become one of the prevailing dynamics of our current cultural moment. Whatever else may define our reality, identity has been promoted to the top of the list. But that, in and of itself, isn’t a bad thing. The issue isn’t that we live into our identity, but the issue is with what we will allow to define and create our identity. When it’s psychology or ideology or some other form of idol-ology, then the problem isn’t that we’re living into who we are, but that we have misunderstood and become confused about who we are.

What’s got me thinking along these lines this morning? Something Paul says about how we should “identify” and the implications of what it means to live into that identity.

Do not be unequally yoked with unbelievers. For what partnership has righteousness with lawlessness? Or what fellowship has light with darkness? What accord has Christ with Belial? Or what portion does a believer share with an unbeliever? What agreement has the temple of God with idols? For we are the temple of the living God; as God said, “I will make My dwelling among them and walk among them, and I will be their God, and they shall be My people.”

(2Corinthians 6:14-16 ESV)

Do not be unequally yoked with unbelievers . . . That’s a pretty familiar command-to-obey from my early days as a Christian. Primary application back then? Who I dated, who I married. A pretty good application for as far as it goes.

But given the context of Paul’s letter, given that Paul is vying for the affections and fidelity of those he has led to faith (6:11-13), I can’t help but think it is far from being the only application, nor is it the primary application. No, this unequal yoking reaches into all our relationships and affiliations, beyond just romantic relationships. The mismatched teaming that Paul warns against is much broader. Paul’s application involves “partnership”, “fellowship”, and “accord” with others. It’s about sharing a “portion” with and being in “agreement” about vital matters.

And, at its core, it comes down to identity.

Who were these Corinthians that Paul was contending for? They were “righteousness” in a lawless land. They were “light” in a dark domain. They were “believers” amongst unbelievers. They were “Christ” in a realm under the influence of Satan. “The temple of God” among a world of idolaters. Says God, they were to be “My people.”

That’s who those Corinthians were. That’s who I am. That’s how I should identify. That’s what I’m chewing on this morning.

Righteous not in my own righteousness but robed in His (Isa. 61:10). Light not because of any self-enlightenment, but because I’ve been called out of darkness into light (1Pet. 2:9). Christ, not because I have a Messiah complex, but because I have been crucified with Christ and it’s no longer I who live but Christ who lives in me (Gal. 2:20). A temple of the living God, not because of any merit of my own, but because of His Spirit who has taken up residence within me (1Cor. 6:19, Eph. 2:21-22). I am who I am because God is who God is and Jesus has done what Jesus has done. In fact, as I’ve been reminded over the past four Sunday mornings, I am who I am because I am not my own (1Cor. 6:19-20).

Identity, seems to me, is pretty important. Knowing who I am is not only going to direct how I behave but is also meant to define how I’m going to thrive. I am an image-bearer created by God. Redeemed by Christ that I would reflect that image. Being sanctified by the Spirit that I might be conformed to that image. That’s how I identify.

Only by God’s grace. Only for God’s glory.

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We Do Not Lose Heart

Posted on April 30, 2024 by Pete

This morning, I’m hovering over the bookends presented by Paul in 2Corinthians 4. A chapter where Paul talks about the ministry given him “by the mercy of God” (4:1) That of proclaiming the gospel in a world where many not only didn’t want to hear Paul’s proclamation but reacted viscerally and violently against it, their minds blinded to the good news by “the god of this world” (4:4).

And Paul physically bore in his body the blows of the gospel’s rejection as he was afflicted, perplexed, and persecuted being “given over to death for Jesus’ sake, so that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our mortal flesh” (4:8-11). The wounds and scars bearing witness that, while the treasure of the gospel which he carried may have been eternal and invincible, he himself was but a “jar of clay” (4:7). But while his body may have been taking a beating, Paul would declare not once but twice, “We do not lose heart.”

Therefore, having this ministry by the mercy of God, we do not lose heart.

So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day.

(2Corinthians 4:1, 16 ESV)

We do not lose heart . . . We do not lose heart. Worthy chewing on, I think.

While following Christ for me looks way different than what it looked like for Paul, following Christ for both of us means taking up a cross (Luke 9:23) and, at some point, that’s gonna hurt. Cross-bearing has a way of making real the fact that we are all but “jars of clay.” And yet, like Paul, we too can say, “We do not lose heart.”

Though our “outer self’ may be taking it in the teeth, we can know an inner self that is being renewed day by day. So, what’s the secret sauce for renewal? Perspective.

For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.

(2Corinthians 4:17-18 ESV)

Whatever’s hammering me — whatever! — is a light momentary affliction when compared to the promise I possess of an eternal weight of glory. The life-draining difficulties of the here and now will certainly give way to unimaginable delights of a glorious there and then. The pain experienced today will be exchanged for the presence of God in a not too distant tomorrow. Seen things will be traded in for unseen things. Transient grief is going to give way to eternal glory. So we do not lose heart.

How we need perspective in order to persevere. How we need to set our minds on things above in order to keep dealing with the stuff below.

How we gonna do that? One way — one really vital way — is by staying in God’s word.

It’s time in the Word that maintains my perspective. It’s reading my Bible frequently and regularly which renews my inner self day in and day out. It’s that heaven-connect habit which help me to not lose heart.

By His grace. For His glory.

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Write Away!

Posted on April 26, 2024 by Pete

Found myself hovering over 2Corinthians 3:3 this morning and eventually thinking, “Write away!” Then I looked back through my journal and found that same thinking put into words back in 2016.

And as I think back over the past 8 years, God has faithfully responded to that desire. But I also realize that the Spirit has not constrained Himself to only using a supernatural pen to write on my heart, but often has employed a supernatural chisel. Being not only a divine Scribe restricting Himself to the use of cursive letters applied gently with divine ink, but willing to also to be a divine Sculptor, ready to let painful sparks fly as He takes chisel in hand to engrave a new story on a heart still too often hardened by self.

Here’s are those thoughts from 2016.

Paul found himself having to defend his credentials and his ministry in 1Corinthians 3. In so doing, he pointed to the same thing as both the evidence of God’s calling on His life and as the validation of the message he proclaimed. He pointed to the Corinthians themselves. “You yourselves,” wrote Paul, “are our letter of recommendation” (3:2).

That there was even a gathering of believers in Corinth validated that Paul had been “commissioned by God” to “speak in Christ” (2:17). That these human epistles weren’t the same people as they were before hearing Paul’s proclamation of the gospel, was proof that it wasn’t Paul’s good news but Another’s. Though the message might have come from Paul, it’s impact was from God. Paul may have spoken the words, but it was Another who scribed the letter.

And you show that you are a letter from Christ delivered by us, written not with ink but with the Spirit of the living God, not on tablets of stone but on tablets of human hearts.

(2Corinthians 3:3 ESV)

You are a letter . . .

Written not with ink but with the Spirit of the living God. Written not on tablets of stone, as was the old covenant, but on tablets of human hearts, as promised in the new covenant (Jer. 31:33). That’s the lot of every believer. That’s the dynamic at play for all who have responded in faith to the message of the cross. And if God in His sovereign grace and determination has purposed to write a letter on my heart, then I say, “Write Away!”

The truth of the gospel isn’t found just in how well it is articulated. Nor is it true just because many have believed it. There are many religions, philosophies, and systems of man which are presented by compelling orators and received by myriads of sincere men and women. Rather, the proof of the power of the good news that Jesus came to die for sinners is found in their lives. The overwhelming preponderance of evidence not found in what believers recite but in the spiritual dynamic they reflect. The weight of testimony not found in what they know but in who they have become. Not in their autobiography but in the story imprinted by the Spirit of God on their very souls.

And though our hearts may be God’s chosen writing surface, and while it may be His heaven-sent ink alone, there is a very real sense in which we are co-authors as we submit our lives to His divine authorship. There is a sense in which we must give God the “write away!”

We acknowledge that our spiritual rebirth is a work begun by Him and for Him — for His purpose, His honor, His glory. We understand that they are no longer our lives to live, but that we have been bought with a price and now belong to the Master. We consciously cooperate with the Divine as we refuse to offer any longer our members to sin but, by His power given us, seek only to offer them to righteousness. We are aware of the battle within, the war between the old nature and the Spirit, and so we seek to walk in the Spirit, be led by the Spirit, and live according to the Spirit. And all the while, He is writing His letter. He is imprinting Himself on our very nature.

His is to write the story, mine is to give God the “Write Away!”

Write away, Lord!

By Your grace . . . for Your glory!

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Astonished and Amazed and Afraid, Oh My!

Posted on April 25, 2024 by Pete

On the road again. That’s where Jesus and his disciples were, on the road again “going up to Jerusalem” (Mark 10:32). Jerusalem, the city which was remembered for the best of times — those days past when they made the trek to worship and to offer sacrifices. But also the city which increasingly threatened the worst of times, as the hostility toward their leader by those who ran the city increased. What was it to be on the road again with Jesus?

As I’m hovering over my reading in Mark this morning, to follow Jesus was to be astonished, amazed, and afraid.

Jesus said to them again, “Children, how difficult it is to enter the kingdom of God! It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich person to enter the kingdom of God.” And they were exceedingly astonished, and said to him, “Then who can be saved?” Jesus looked at them and said, “With man it is impossible, but not with God. For all things are possible with God.”

(Mark 10:24-27ESV)

And they were on the road, going up to Jerusalem, and Jesus was walking ahead of them. And they were amazed, and those who followed were afraid. And taking the twelve again, He began to tell them what was to happen to Him, saying, “See, we are going up to Jerusalem, and the Son of Man will be delivered over to the chief priests and the scribes, and they will condemn Him to death and deliver Him over to the Gentiles. And they will mock Him and spit on Him, and flog Him and kill Him. And after three days He will rise.”

(Mark 10:32-34 ESV)

Those who followed were afraid . . . That’s what first caught my attention this morning. They were going to Jerusalem, and they were afraid. They were following Jesus, and they were fearful. And with good reason. Though one day we would reign in Jerusalem, today was not that day. Instead, in Jerusalem, He would soon be delivered, condemned, mocked, spit upon, flogged, and killed. Jesus knew it. He wanted His disciples to know it. And, apparently, they were starting to get it. For they were afraid.

So why follow? Why sojourn towards such certain suffering? Because they were amazed. Amazed at Jesus’ readiness to enter the city. Astounded by how determined He was to enter Jerusalem’s gates when others would understandably flee. Amazed because, as Luke puts it, Jesus “set His face” to go to Jerusalem (Lk. 9:51). The destination had been punched into His divine GPS and there was no re-routing to be considered. They were amazed because the One who they increasingly believed truly possessed “the words of eternal life” (Jn. 6:68) had resolutely set His course towards certain death.

So why follow? Because they were exceedingly astonished. The more they were picking up what Jesus was laying down, the more they were compelled to follow where Jesus led. Difficult to enter Jerusalem? Yeah. More difficult to enter the kingdom? Apparently. Impossible even? Could be. But not with God. For all things are possible with God. That’s why they followed. The God who makes all things possible makes even walking into Jerusalem plausible.

Astonished and amazed and afraid, oh my!

On the road again. Going up to Jerusalem. Or, wherever He leads.

By His grace. For His glory.

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The LORD Came and Stood

Posted on April 24, 2024 by Pete

That God did the calling is apparent. The extent to which God determined to go in order for Samuel to hear that calling is amazing.

1Samuel 3 this morning . . .

We’re still in the chaotic, corrupt era of the judges, a time when “the word of the LORD was rare in those days” and “there was no frequent vision” (1Sam. 3:1b). Every man doing what was right in their own eyes (Jug. 21:25), no man really listening for God.

Sure, religious activity continued, but the priests were corrupt, and you get the sense that the people were just going through the motions. But then God determines to move a barren woman to pray, so that He might answer her prayer and take her up on her pledge to dedicate her boy to God for “all the days of his life” (1Sam. 1:10-11). And so, as a young boy, Samuel “is lent to the LORD” for as long as he lives (1Sam. 1:25-28).

Okay, now things are happening. Samuel, miraculously conceived, has been dedicated to serving the LORD. Just one problem, Samuel “did not yet know the LORD, and the word of the LORD had not yet been revealed to him” (1Sam. 3:7). He was growing “in both stature and favor with the LORD” (1Sam. 2:26), he was ministering to the LORD (1Sam. 3:1a), but he didn’t know the LORD. Cue the LORD.

Samuel was lying down in the temple of the LORD, where the ark of God was.

Then the LORD called Samuel, and he said, “Here I am!” and ran to Eli and said, “Here I am, for you called me.” But he said, “I did not call; lie down again.” So he went and lay down.

(1Samuel 3:2b-5 ESV)

Can’t blame the kid for not picking up on what God was laying down. The word of the LORD was rare in those days. Visions were even rarer. But God persists. Two more times He calls. Two more times Samuel goes to Eli and says, “What do you want?” And then the old man figures it out.

Then Eli perceived that the LORD was calling the boy. Therefore Eli said to Samuel, “Go, lie down, and if He calls you, you shall say, ‘Speak, LORD, for your servant hears.'”

(1Samuel 3:8b-9 ESV)

And it does happen again. But not quite the way it happened the prior three times.

And the LORD came and stood, calling as at other times, “Samuel! Samuel!” And Samuel said, “Speak, for your servant hears.”

(1Samuel 3:10 ESV)

The LORD came and stood . . .

He entered Samuel’s world in order to utter Samuel’s name. This time He wasn’t just a mere voice, but He was present as a Living Word. In fact, you might say the Word effectively somehow became flesh. Sound familiar? I’m thinking . . . (John 1:14).

The LORD called not just from a distance, but He came, and He called. He stood and He spoke. He arrived and He announced. He was present and He proclaimed.

Oh, the condescending grace of God! Towards Samuel and towards us.

While God could have determined to call us only from a distance through the testimony of His created world (Rom. 1:19-20), instead, through His Son, He entered creation — emptying Himself, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men (Php. 2:7) — so that He might come and stand and call to all those with hears to hear, “Follow Me!”

The LORD came and stood in order to call. How can I not but bend and bow in response.

Worshiping again because of His amazing grace.

Responding afresh, “Speak, for your servant hears”, only for His glory.

Amen?

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Making Him “Weighty”

Posted on April 22, 2024 by Pete

Started in on 1Samuel this morning and I’m hovering over the tragic figure of Eli the priest. A high priest before God in Shiloh, a long-reigning judge over the people in Israel (1Sam. 4:18). His position and his work having all the makings of one who should have been highly esteemed, of one who should have been honored. And yet, by God he was “lightly esteemed”, or as some translations put it, “despised” or held in disdain. His failing? At least in part, it was the weight he placed on things other than God.

Eli’s sons were “worthless men” (1Sam. 2:12). Though they were priests of the Most High God they acted in the lowest of all conceivable manner. To satisfy the lust of their flesh, they used and abused — they used the office of priest, and they abused the people they were to serve. Rather than allowing the best of the sacrifices to actually be sacrificed to God they skimmed the best off the top for themselves, eating the fat (2Sam. 2:15-16) even though the fat belonged to the LORD (Lev. 3:14-16). Their sin was a great sin in the sight of the LORD, for they “treated the offering of the LORD with contempt” (2Sam. 2:17).

And Eli, their father, knew what his sons were doing. And, though Eli did speak up, he also ate up. His sons refused to listen to his correction (2Sam. 2:25) and he chose to participate in their derision. And God calls him on it.

“Why then do you scorn My sacrifices and My offerings that I commanded for My dwelling, and honor your sons above Me by fattening yourselves on the choicest parts of every offering of my people Israel? Therefore the LORD, the God of Israel, declares: ‘I promised that your house and the house of your father should go in and out before me forever,’ but now the LORD declares: ‘Far be it from Me, for those who honor Me I will honor, and those who despise Me shall be lightly esteemed.'”

(1Samuel 2:29-30 ESV)

Honor. Literally, to be heavy, or to make weighty. When it came to weighty matters, Eli’s family carried the greater weight. Eli’s food carried the greater weight. And so, while he may have rebuked his boys, he didn’t correct his boys. And while they stole what belonged to the LORD, Eli still chose to eat with his boys. Thus he honored his sons, and his own appetite, above the LORD.

The words of Jesus ring out in my mind . . .

“No one can serve two masters, for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and money.”

(Matthew 6:24 ESV)

You can’t do it, you can’t serve two masters. Though you may have many responsibilities, though you may have shared affections, though there may be multiple priorities, there needs to be a prime responsibility, an affection above all other affections, and a priority that ranks as the one and only, non-negotiable, top priority. There can only be one Master.

. . . for those who honor Me I will honor . . .

O, that our Master, Jesus, would in everything be regarded as preeminent. That we would make Him “weighty” above all things and that all things would fall in line with a desire to honor Him.

By His grace. For His glory.

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A Shelter and A Shadow

Posted on April 19, 2024 by Pete

The opening verse of Psalm 91 catches my attention this morning. At first read, it seems to be talking about me and what I can do and the results which are a “no-brainer” and an “of course” sort of outcome. But chew on it a bit and, it seems to me, it really is about what God has graciously consented to be and of a promise which makes all the difference in how I enter my day.

It’s about dwelling and abiding. About deciding where to sit and then knowing with confidence where you’ll be situated. About choosing where you’ll remain and then resting in where you’ll be found. It’s about a shelter and a shadow.

He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High
will abide in the shadow of the Almighty.

(Psalm 91:1 ESV)

Dwell in the shelter . . . abide in the shadow. That’s what I’m chewing on.

Like I said earlier, at first it seems like kind of an “well, yeah!” sort of redundancy. That it only makes sense that if you place yourself under cover that you’ll be covered. That if you set yourself under something, then that something will be over you. No brainer. Unless, of course, that “something” is the Most High. Unless that covering is Shaddai, the Almighty. Now you’ve got something to noodle on.

I can seek all I want, but if God has determined not to be found then so what? I can ask, but if He’s not listening, talk on. I can knock all day long, but if no ones answering then it’s a fruitless effort.

Likewise, while I might want to dwell in His shelter, while I might position myself to be found in the “secret place” (literal rendering), if He’s not prepared to be present and cast His shadow, then what’s the point? If He’s not unchanging and unmovable so that His shade is unfleeting, then what might be here today could be gone tomorrow.

But the promise is that for those who dwell in the shelter of the Most High, they WILL abide in the shadow of the Almighty.

If we seek to hide ourselves in His hiding place, then we will remain in the shade of Shaddai.

Not that’s a promise to claim!

That’s the place to be found.

Amen?

A shelter accessed by His grace. A shadow enjoyed for His glory.

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Secret Sins

Posted on April 18, 2024 by Pete

My bible says Psalm 90 is a prayer of Moses. And as you read it, you gotta think that this a poem written while he led them in laps around the wilderness. A time when all were keenly aware that God “returns a man to dust” (90:2), as each day over those 40 years more bodies were left behind in the desert of that generation which had refused to enter the land. Mindful that while every day brought new mercies (known at the least by the daily provision of manna); that though they were renewed each morning, they were renewed “like grass” only to fade and wither by evening (90:5-6). While they were a people under the Almighty’s care, they were still a people whose days passed away under His wrath (90:9). So, says Moses, “teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom” (90:12) — a redemptive purpose even amidst a chastening period.

“Now these things happened to them as an example, but they were written down for our instruction . . . ” (1Cor. 10:11).

And this morning, I’m picking up on something being laid down concerning secret sins.

You have set our iniquities before You, our secret sins in the light of Your presence.

(Psalm 90:8 ESV)

Our secret sins . . . Our hidden things. Things about ourselves, things about our actions, that only we know about. Concealed. Tucked away out of sight. Securely stashed away in a safe place. Nobody else’s business but our own. Nobody needing to know. In fact, better if I can forget about them as well.

Not talking the big stuff here. Not like bodies stuffed away in a closet somewhere. Not like an offshore, undetectable bank account filled with ill-gotten gain. Instead, we’re talking the small stuff — that stuff we’re told not to sweat. Anger that simmered but never got to the boiling point. Little white lies that remained undetected and never really harmed anyone. Pride allowed to percolate while never manifested itself by blowing off steam. You know, hidden stuff. Iniquities nobody knows about but us. Secret sins.

Yet, though secret in our wishful thinking, iniquities set before an all-knowing God. Secret sins exposed in the light of His presence.

Those wilderness wanderers weren’t dropping in the desert only because of their one big, blatant sin of rebellion at the border of Canaan. No, there were more than enough daily secret sins since then to justify the wages of death apart from some amazing grace and some atoning intervention. Secret sins exposed in the light of God’s presence.

“Written for our instruction . . . ” Hmm . . .

Thank God for amazing grace and atoning intervention. Thank God for a Savior who was ready, willing, and able to deal with our sins — even our secret sins. Thank God that our confidence in the gospel and the finished work of the cross is such that, even if we could hide our inner transgressions from an all-knowing God (and we can’t), that we don’t need to try and keep our sin secret. For “if we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness” (1Jn. 1:9).

Our sins, all our sins, even our secret sins, atoned for at the cross of Calvary. That which we don’t want to admit, even to ourselves, laid bare before the eyes of a God who has promised never to leave us or forsake, and covered by the blood of His Son who has promised to live in us.

Thank God we don’t need to try and keep secret sins.

Search me, O God, and know my heart!
Try me and know my thoughts!
And see if there be any grievous way in me (aka secret sins?),
and lead me in the way everlasting!

(Psalm 139:23-24 ESV)

Trusting in the abundance of His grace. Wanting, in some measure, to live only for His glory.

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