Peace or Resistance

Do not be anxious about anything. Instead, in every situation, through prayer and petition with thanksgiving, tell your requests to God. And the peace of God that surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. (Philippians 4:6-7 NET_FL)

Josef’s brown Fijian cheeks bulge with kissable baby fat. The universe spins around the dimples of his smile. Right now, however, his wide nose and fuzzy head are furrowed as he lets out a low-pitched cry, like he’s trying to hold it in but can’t. At two years old, he doesn’t have words for why he’s hurting, doesn’t even know the reason himself. If he knew what it was, he couldn’t fix the problem anyway. He is totally dependent on his mother, Losana.

Losana, hears her son’s wail and recognizes the problem. She knows her precious son better than he knows himself. He recently ate, but now he’s tired and nothing in his world is right when fatigue hits his little body. Losana knows what Josef needs long before he does.

God knows my needs better than Losana knows Josef’s. I complain and cry, but he knows what my eternal soul needs most, even when I can’t articulate it myself. He knows my history, my circumstances, and my heart. Even if I fully understood my problems, I couldn’t fix them. I’m totally dependent on him.

God knows better than me what to do for me. But will I let him, or will I stiffen and wail? Peace or resistance, I can only choose one. Do I have God’s peace concerning my trials, or am I resisting his timing and methods? Which Josef am I? The dimpled smiling one, or the contorted bawling one?

Prayer: Father, I am small, you are great.

Obsession

Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is worthy of respect, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if something is excellent or praiseworthy, think about these things. (Philippians 4:8 NET_FL)

A seedy thought runs through my mind. A small fear, a bite of hate, a worldly itch. My conscience rebukes my imagination and the thought scurries toward the door. Before the exit, however, it ducks into the shadow and sneaks around to the front of my ideas. Round and round the thought courses my synapses, cutting a path deeper with each lap. An obsession is born.

Some obsessions wear white coats. Family, sports, and music are gifts from God, but when they displace worship of Jesus, they are black obsessions in white coats. Most anything or anybody can become an obsession. Whatever we spend the most time thinking about is our obsession. We’re an obsessive people. We should wear name badges that say, hello, my name is … my obsession is … 

Obsessiveness can, however, be our best trait.

Jesus Christ, the crucified King who defines love, is the one pure target of my obsession. I want to let thoughts of him swirl around my mind. I want his sacrifice and his majesty to consume me. He accepts me as I am, stays at my side, and whispers words of correction with love—this is the mental cud I’m meant to chew. 

There is only one who can fulfill me. He is the one who is true, worthy of respect, just, pure, lovely, commendable, excellent, and praiseworthy. Jesus is the one I’m to think about—my true obsession.

Prayer: Jesus, may I fixate on you alone.

Mental Real Estate

An evil man is rebellious to the core. He does not fear God, for he is too proud to recognize and give up his sin. (Psalms 36:1-2 NET_FL)

In the expanse of our universe the only real estate where I’m sovereign is in the space of my mind. I may influence my environment, but I don’t have the final say. Even my body is subjected to restrictions. In my head, however, I’m free to do as I please. Unless my thoughts are expressed, no one contradicts me. I can fantasize in any direction I choose.

Inside my little kingdom I can do no wrong. Ineptness and weak character are dubbed endearing personality traits. Sinful contemplations run opposite the reality around me and I don’t police my conclusions. I’m too proud to recognize and give up the sin hidden inside my head.

 Even on the rare occasions I try to cleanup my brain pollution, I can’t do it. My only hope is to deed my mental real estate to Jesus. Let him remove the rubbish. With his word he rakes my ungodly thoughts. With his role model he readies piles for destruction. With his love he burns what doesn’t belong. I’ll give him ownership, then move aside like the renter that I am, and watch him work.

When Jesus has made some progress with my thoughts, I’ll have no room for self-righteous judgment. He does all the work. I’m left with nothing but to beg for grace for myself and others.

The reality is than I’m not a king, not even in the space between my ears. Jesus is the only Sovereign in the universe and its time the tiny acreage in my head stops living in rebellion.

Prayer: High King Jesus, cleanup my thoughts.

Testimony Video

Click here to watch a video of my testimony as a missionary: https://youtu.be/fSK1MakeAjA

True Fasting

Then Esther sent this reply to Mordecai: “Go, assemble all the Jews who are found in Susa and fast in my behalf. Donʼt eat and donʼt drink for three days, night or day. My female attendants and I will also fast in the same way.” (Esther 4:15-16 NET_FL)

In Zimbabwe we had difficulty getting water from the wells. In my bumbling attempt to fix the plumbing, I needed a pipe fitting from the shed. The gardener had the key, but he was sulking over a fight and couldn’t be found. After searching out the begrudging gardener, key, and fitting, I needed a wrench. I scrounged enough fuel to push start the broken motorcycle, rode to the repair shop, borrowed a wrench, then spent thirty minutes looking for a tool to fix the broken wrench. Compared to western efficiency, the challenges of the Third-world can be a source of frustration or hilarity.

The following thirty hours were committed to fasting and prayer. It wasn’t a day off, but my most productive work. After the fast, life at the mission compound blossomed. Relationships healed, tools were in their proper places, and water gushed into the reservoirs.

Before Moses received the Old Covenant laws from God, he fasted. When Queen Esther’s people faced extermination, she fasted. Before Jesus began his ministry, he fasted. When the Holy Spirit told the disciples to set apart Paul and Barnabas, they were fasting. Intercession is our most effective activity, and fasting draws prayers from the middle of God’s river.

Fasting is not manipulation of the Almighty wherein we convince him to help because he feels sorry for our self-imposed hunger. Rather, true fasting clears the way for our spirit to take primacy and engage with the Spirit of God in the holy work of praying his will.

Prayer: Father in heaven, let me enter into your prayers through fasting.

The Outstretched Hand

Indeed, the Lord who commands armies has a plan, and who can possibly frustrate it? His hand is ready to strike, and who can possibly stop it. (Isaiah 14:27 NET_FL)

My sins, even the small ones, are anathema to God. He loves me but detests my treason.

“Do not do that,” he said. 

I did it in his face.

Holy wrath stirs and the mighty hand rises. It’s not some future event, it’s already moving against my corruption. The hand is poised, twitching with readiness to sweep me into the hellfire I deserve. Yet, it pauses. For a brief moment in history, it hovers. It is the moment of grace.

The hand of wrath was redirected against Jesus. By his wounds I am healed. During the moment of grace I may run to the place of his decimation and claim it as my own.

Because of the divine substitution, the outstretched hand will not harm me. It becomes a hand of protection and I take shelter beneath its reach. Love overshadows me. The hand will still fall soon, however, it will only crush my remaining sin. I myself will be safe with Christ.

God made his plan, foretold his intention, and began his fulfillment. Already the hand is outstretched. I cannot fein surprise when it slams down. I must hold myself in readiness, willing that God should release his might against evil and destroy every rebellion, including my own.

Prayer: Lord Almighty, let your hand fall.

Donations

Dear Supporters:

The details for tax-exempt donations has changed from what we sent last week in our newsletter. The address for prayers remains the same because God Almighty never changes.

Donations go to our forwarding agent:

Goulding C/O Jeanne Hartman

PO Box 2433

Grass Valley, CA 95945

For tax exempt donations:

Pioneers

10123 William Carey Dr.

Orlando, FL 32832

Please Memo:

Account no: 132113

Operation Fd –OARF (Goulding/Schultz)

On-line Donations go to:

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Don Goulding