There are so many qualities in life that I admire and to which I aspire. But none greater than faithfulness. I want people to be able to say, “Whatever else you can say about Jack, he was faithful.” At the top of the list of the qualities of God is His faithfulness. He is a God of love and forgiveness, of mercy and steadfast love. But without His faithfulness to live out these qualities, we would have no assurance that God would be true to them.
Most people today are willing to make only short-term promises—just for today. In contrast, God exhibits and demonstrates faithfulness until the end of time. Psalm 100:5 says, “The Lord is good and His love endures forever; His faithfulness continues through all generations.”
Through the years, my favorite hymn has become “Great Is Thy Faithfulness.” The hymn writer, Thomas O. Chisholm, is right:
"Great is Thy faithfulness, O God my Father...
Morning by morning new mercies I see.
All I have needed Thy hand hath provided.
Great is Thy faithfulness, Lord, unto me."
My favorite verse in the hymn is verse three:
“Pardon for sin and a peace that endureth
Thine own dear presence to cheer and to guide;
Strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow,
Blessings all mine, with ten thousand beside!”
In four lines, the writer outlines the great faithfulness of God. The greatest mark of God’s faithfulness is His forgiveness for sins which leads to a peace that endureth all things.
We are promised God’s presence to add joy or cheer to our journey and to guide us each step of the way.
Then, we are promised strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow. It’s this promise that I’m clinging to most tightly during this phase of the journey.
But the writer’s thoughts of God’s blessings are soon exhausted. He just scratches the surface here. In addition to these, he tells us that there are ten thousand beside!
And now that I stand on the brink of death, I remember and cling to one of His specific and special promises, “In my Father’s house are many rooms...I am going there to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me. For where I am, there you will be also” [Matthew 14:2-4]. I’m glad that I can cling to this promise of God.
How I wish I could attend the memorial service to sing with you of God’s faithfulness. You can count on the fact that I’ll be joining you in spirit.
“Great is Thy faithfulness, O God my Father...
Morning by morning new mercies I see.
All I have needed Thy hand hath provided.
Great is Thy faithfulness, Lord, unto me.”
Lamentations was written by Jeremiah, the weeping prophet. Chapter 3 is a litany of laments and will break your heart. Everything has gone wrong for Jeremiah. Nothing has gone right. You and I would throw up our hands and give up. But not Jeremiah. And what got him though this time of great tragedy? The promise of the faithful, loving kindness, of God.
After his description of tragedy, he comes to verse 41 when he uses the transitional word, “but.” “But this I call to mind and therefore, I have hope. The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases. His mercies never come to an end. They are new every morning. Great is thy faithfulness.”
Join me today in claiming the promise of God to be faithful. His steadfast love and mercies are new every morning. Claim them today!
- Jack
Monday, August 27, 2007
Monday, August 13, 2007
Honesty in Prayer
I’ve written about my attempts to be honest in dealing with cancer. And for the most part, I think I have been honest. But last week I reached a new degree of honesty in my prayer life. As I have shared before, I have acknowledged my anger with my condition. I’ve admitted to fear as I face the future. But a few days ago I reached another level of frustration.
I was by myself. I was not having a good day. I was wondering if I had begun the downhill slide to death. In the midst of these feelings, I began to weep uncontrollably, crying out to God, “It’s not fair! It’s just not fair! Why me? Why won’t you take this evil thing away from me?” It was a cathartic experience that immediately brought cleansing to my soul.
In reflecting on the experience, I was reminded of the Psalmist’s stance as he faced uncertainty and anger and distress. In his honesty, he cried out to God, “Why have you forsaken me? Why do you allow the wicked to prosper and the righteous to suffer? When will all this end? What have I done to deserve this?” The psalmist was never nearer to the heart of God than when he honestly expressed his anger and frustration over what was happening.
But the Psalmist didn’t stop with frustration or doubt. He always moved to certainty: “Nevertheless, I will trust you….” On the cross, Jesus used the psalmist’s words, “Why have you forsaken me?”, to express His pain and frustration. But at the end of the day, He affirmed His faith in God : “Into your hands I commend my spirit.”
I am developing a new honesty in my prayer life. I’m trying to be real with God. After all, He already knows my feelings — there’s no hiding them from Him. He much prefers my coming to Him forthrightly, in all candor, honestly expressing my innermost feelings to Him. I’m learning, with Jesus, to sweat great drops of blood as I cry out for deliverance, but then to place my life in His hands: “Nevertheless, not my will, but thine be done.”
It’s only when I’ve been honest enough to admit my fear and frustration, my disappointment and anger, that I am then able to place my life in His hands, knowing that He will do what’s best. There can be no resurrection without the cross, no Easter without Good Friday, no wholeness without first being crippled. I’m reminded of Jacob wrestling with the angel all night long, until his joint was thrown out of place and he limped away from his encounter with God. The price of his wholeness was being crippled from his wrestling with God. But without the honest wrestling match, there would have been no authentic encounter with God!
And that’s where I find myself during these difficult days: searching for wholeness through being crippled by the pain and misery of cancer; discovering eternal life through the bitterness of death; dying in order to live. Is it easy? Heavens no! The tears of last week weren’t the first, nor will they be the last. But I trust that through my struggle with death, I will discover the joy of life eternal through Jesus Christ. I want to discover the truth that Paul discovered, “For me to live is Christ; to die is gain.”
Take my brokenness, Lord, and make me whole. Amen.
I was by myself. I was not having a good day. I was wondering if I had begun the downhill slide to death. In the midst of these feelings, I began to weep uncontrollably, crying out to God, “It’s not fair! It’s just not fair! Why me? Why won’t you take this evil thing away from me?” It was a cathartic experience that immediately brought cleansing to my soul.
In reflecting on the experience, I was reminded of the Psalmist’s stance as he faced uncertainty and anger and distress. In his honesty, he cried out to God, “Why have you forsaken me? Why do you allow the wicked to prosper and the righteous to suffer? When will all this end? What have I done to deserve this?” The psalmist was never nearer to the heart of God than when he honestly expressed his anger and frustration over what was happening.
But the Psalmist didn’t stop with frustration or doubt. He always moved to certainty: “Nevertheless, I will trust you….” On the cross, Jesus used the psalmist’s words, “Why have you forsaken me?”, to express His pain and frustration. But at the end of the day, He affirmed His faith in God : “Into your hands I commend my spirit.”
I am developing a new honesty in my prayer life. I’m trying to be real with God. After all, He already knows my feelings — there’s no hiding them from Him. He much prefers my coming to Him forthrightly, in all candor, honestly expressing my innermost feelings to Him. I’m learning, with Jesus, to sweat great drops of blood as I cry out for deliverance, but then to place my life in His hands: “Nevertheless, not my will, but thine be done.”
It’s only when I’ve been honest enough to admit my fear and frustration, my disappointment and anger, that I am then able to place my life in His hands, knowing that He will do what’s best. There can be no resurrection without the cross, no Easter without Good Friday, no wholeness without first being crippled. I’m reminded of Jacob wrestling with the angel all night long, until his joint was thrown out of place and he limped away from his encounter with God. The price of his wholeness was being crippled from his wrestling with God. But without the honest wrestling match, there would have been no authentic encounter with God!
And that’s where I find myself during these difficult days: searching for wholeness through being crippled by the pain and misery of cancer; discovering eternal life through the bitterness of death; dying in order to live. Is it easy? Heavens no! The tears of last week weren’t the first, nor will they be the last. But I trust that through my struggle with death, I will discover the joy of life eternal through Jesus Christ. I want to discover the truth that Paul discovered, “For me to live is Christ; to die is gain.”
Take my brokenness, Lord, and make me whole. Amen.
Monday, August 6, 2007
Dealing with Anger
I had a wonderful visit this week with a dear friend who is also a therapist. In a gentle, but firm way, she helped me to deal with my anger over what is happening to me. Psychologists remind us that anger is part and parcel of the grief process. What have I done with my anger?
For some Christians, anger is difficult to acknowledge and deal with. We refuse to admit that we are angry. It’s just not the “Christian thing” to do. Others spend time with misplaced anger. While others wallow in anger and never work through it in any redemptive way.
My friend Ann asked me, “What have you done with your anger?”
That’s a good question. I think I have dealt with my anger in an appropriate way. I am angry that this cancer has robbed me of my future on this earth. Just when new opportunities were falling into place and the future for expanded ministry looked bright, here comes pancreatic cancer to deny me of the blessings of this earthly life. Sure, I’m angry. Deeply angry! But, at whom?
There’s nothing wrong in admitting that, at times, we are angry with God. Okay, we don’t believe that God sent this life-ending disease, but couldn’t He have done something to prevent it? Couldn’t God, in His omnipotence, simply snuffed out this dread disease? If He could, why didn’t He? In my humanness, I have a right to be angry with God.
But that is a dead-end street. In the beginning, I had these same thoughts, this same anger, about a loving God who did nothing to stop this horrific, life-ending disease. But I soon moved beyond this God-blaming exercise. God loves me more that I can begin to comprehend, and He would never do anything to bring harm to me or to deny me of abundant life.
So, who can I blame? With whom can I be angry? There are times when there is no one to blame. We live in a fallen, imperfect, world where things like pancreatic cancer occur. Well, then, with whom should I be angry. Not at myself, not at God. But at this imperfect world where babies die far too soon, where people are massacred without cause, where hunger and sickness abound, where those with power crush those who are poor and powerless and marginalized.
But anger at this fallen world is not enough. What am I doing about it? How much of myself am I giving to eradicate the evil in this life? What am I doing to encourage research into life-shortening and life-eroding diseases? How supportive am I, though the gifts of my time, energy, and resources in helping empower those whose lives are robbed of their basic freedom and human rights?
Yes, I’m angry with how my life is ending! I’m angry that the evil of cancer is robbing me of the opportunity of embracing life for years to come. I can choose to deny or repress that anger. Or I can choose to acknowledge my anger, deal with it in redemptive ways, and ask God to keep anger from threatening to rob me of what time I have left.
I choose the latter. I refuse to allow anger to embitter me or to rob me of the joy that God wants to give me. I choose to use what remaining time I have to channel my anger in redemptive ways. I invite you to join me in dealing creatively with our anger as we move toward the future that God has prepared for us—a future devoid of anger and filled with hope and courage.
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For some Christians, anger is difficult to acknowledge and deal with. We refuse to admit that we are angry. It’s just not the “Christian thing” to do. Others spend time with misplaced anger. While others wallow in anger and never work through it in any redemptive way.
My friend Ann asked me, “What have you done with your anger?”
That’s a good question. I think I have dealt with my anger in an appropriate way. I am angry that this cancer has robbed me of my future on this earth. Just when new opportunities were falling into place and the future for expanded ministry looked bright, here comes pancreatic cancer to deny me of the blessings of this earthly life. Sure, I’m angry. Deeply angry! But, at whom?
There’s nothing wrong in admitting that, at times, we are angry with God. Okay, we don’t believe that God sent this life-ending disease, but couldn’t He have done something to prevent it? Couldn’t God, in His omnipotence, simply snuffed out this dread disease? If He could, why didn’t He? In my humanness, I have a right to be angry with God.
But that is a dead-end street. In the beginning, I had these same thoughts, this same anger, about a loving God who did nothing to stop this horrific, life-ending disease. But I soon moved beyond this God-blaming exercise. God loves me more that I can begin to comprehend, and He would never do anything to bring harm to me or to deny me of abundant life.
So, who can I blame? With whom can I be angry? There are times when there is no one to blame. We live in a fallen, imperfect, world where things like pancreatic cancer occur. Well, then, with whom should I be angry. Not at myself, not at God. But at this imperfect world where babies die far too soon, where people are massacred without cause, where hunger and sickness abound, where those with power crush those who are poor and powerless and marginalized.
But anger at this fallen world is not enough. What am I doing about it? How much of myself am I giving to eradicate the evil in this life? What am I doing to encourage research into life-shortening and life-eroding diseases? How supportive am I, though the gifts of my time, energy, and resources in helping empower those whose lives are robbed of their basic freedom and human rights?
Yes, I’m angry with how my life is ending! I’m angry that the evil of cancer is robbing me of the opportunity of embracing life for years to come. I can choose to deny or repress that anger. Or I can choose to acknowledge my anger, deal with it in redemptive ways, and ask God to keep anger from threatening to rob me of what time I have left.
I choose the latter. I refuse to allow anger to embitter me or to rob me of the joy that God wants to give me. I choose to use what remaining time I have to channel my anger in redemptive ways. I invite you to join me in dealing creatively with our anger as we move toward the future that God has prepared for us—a future devoid of anger and filled with hope and courage.
Back to Jack's Blog
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