Once upon a time in Florida, there was a pale green house with a screened in porch and one slow ceiling fan. It sat, small and unassuming, under giant trees with great lengths of gray curly hair that flowed from their branches. Off to the side was a small storage shack that held black rubber inner tubes with air valves that stuck out a good inch (they could leave a nasty scrape right down your rib-cage if you weren’t careful) and scratchy rafts with popped seams that still floated just fine.
A few yards away was a lake, also small and unassuming, always still, always murky, always smooth but for splashing and paddle boat oars and an occasional fish rippling the surface.
I have pictures of my mom and dad when they were teenagers with cool hair and wild bathing suits standing knee deep in the water, smiling big, the pale green house just out of the frame. I have pictures of my grown-up parents floating, tossing and splashing years later with my brother and me in that same lake, with that same house in the background and on the same rubber inner tubes and scratchy rafts.
They are vivid memories. But the thing I remember most is surprising – it is the sand. I’ve never felt or seen sand like it since, soft and pale and almost impossible to walk through. It moved and shifted as the soles of our feet pressed on it, even when we quickly dug our toes in for stability. When we followed that smushy sand down into the water – it transformed under our feet like something alive and would slowly pull us into it, like quicksand without the “quick.” We stood like stones at the water’s edge and watched as our feet, then our ankles, slowly disappeared into that sand, as if there was no such thing as solid ground.
It was wet and gloppy and we made the most amazing dribble towers on the edge of the shore. It was too something (heavy? slippery?) to make a sand castle. Maybe heavy is a good word – I can still feel the adrenaline that propelled me up off the ground and sent me screaming into the water away from my brother as he shouted “Who wants applesauce!?” and lobbed fistfuls of the sloppy dripping sand straight toward my curly head, where the sand would SLAP and grind down to my scalp and take days to come out.
Why am I thinking about this place now? Why am I remembering that sand with such detail, and finally, why am I writing it down to share with you?
Well, the reasons are layered. The first is that I miss being able to be somewhere else. The second is that lake was beautiful and lovely and I wanted to invite you to visit it with me in my memory, in case you also miss being able to be somewhere else.
But mostly, I wanted to think about that sand with you. The days are growing long, the novelty of being at home has worn off, for us grown-ups, for our teenagers, for our little ones. We started off a few weeks ago standing on new and unstable ground, each step shifting beneath us, changing sometimes by the day, causing us all to feel an unfamiliar instability, measuring our steps to find a walking rhythm.
And the days have melted by like Dali’s clocks, like dribbles of wet sand running down a melting tower.
Some of us are lingering around up on the shore, growing accustomed to the strange new ground that we are walking on. Restless maybe, stepping around burrs of inconvenience and attitudes and boredom, working through the (very real) disappointment of canceled things, but doing pretty well considering. Some of us are closer to the water’s edge, where the sand seems to breath just enough to swallow our feet slowly, almost imperceptibly, until we look down and see that we are buried up to our shins.
If this is where you are, may I ask what is in your sand? Loneliness? A slow build of pressure contained in the walls of your home? The squeeze of online schooling or bickering kids that seems to get tighter each day? A low hum of impatience toward those close to you? The constant chatter of news and information that seems to change by the minute, crowding your mind and stealing your attention span? The knowledge that your first month’s bills were covered, but you aren’t so sure about the second?
Still others of us have felt like we are already underwater, feet wedged into that mysterious sand that gulps and holds fast. What makes up this sand? Have Isolation and a deep loneliness begun to make you feel smothered by their heat? Has your job disappeared like steam off that inner tube? Are you a caregiver who suddenly can’t give care due to restrictions? Has the tension in your home become oppressive or even frightening? Have sopping heavy wallops of circumstances landed on you, blindsiding you, grinding into you and you can’t shake them off?
Oh church family, my words seem hollow today. I wanted to write with shouts of LIFE coming off Easter Sunday, and indeed Life is ALL around us, even now. But I know for many of us, our hearts are growing tired. I want to remind you that you have a family, brothers and sisters and fathers and mothers in Christ. Like Paul who so desperately wanted to join his “spiritual children” in Thessolanica but was “torn apart from them,” so we desperately want to be knit together through our bond of Christ’s family.
So, for today, let’s pray to the One who is able to lift us from the miry bog, the Lifter of lonely heads, the One who sees us and finds us in the sand. Let’s pray that He who is able would rescue and revive and restore and refresh his children.
I had the opportunity last night to briefly meet with the worship and technical teams before they began preparing for the services for this week. Just walking into our auditorium where our church family gathers week to week did something inside of me. But when I saw the faces of those I love and minister with regularly my heart was overcome with emotion and gratitude. I wanted so badly just to reach out and embrace and encourage each of them. We stood in a circle, trying to stay apart appropriately, and I attempted to encourage and thank them for all the work they were putting in. As we prayed my heart again was moved with emotion. I was just grateful to be with my brothers and sisters, to look into their eyes and see them face to face. I didn’t realize how much I missed them and all of you. I share Pastor Aaron’s longing to meet together again with all of you. I long to lift my voice in worship together, corporately, with all of you. I long to lift my prayers to God together with you. I eagerly desire hearing God’s Word preached and taught as hundreds of us are gathered together. I look forward to seeing so many of you in the foyer, out in the parking lot and all over our campus.
Hebrews 10:24-25 has never been more real to me than now – when I can’t experience being together with you all.
“And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good deeds, not neglecting
to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the
more as you see the day drawing near.“
So, let’s do just that………consider how. We are having to be quite creative and to fight for fellowship these days aren’t we? We use Zoom, talking on our phones, FaceTiming, texting, emailing, even for some writing letters or cards; all in attempts to “meet together” to connect. Why? Because we were created for community and not isolation. This is why, in part, this new normal is so difficult. We weren’t created to walk this life alone. No, we do indeed need each other. This is why so many of our kids are anticipating going back to school – so they can be with their friends. We, like them, want to get out of the house, to see another human being – face-to-face. The bottom line is that we need both solitude and community. Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s small but powerful book Life Together points to this where he says,
“Let him who cannot be alone beware of community… Let him who is not in community beware of being alone… Each by itself has profound perils and pitfalls. One who wants fellowship without solitude plunges into the void of words and feelings, and the one who seeks solitude without fellowship perishes in the abyss of vanity, self-infatuation and despair.”
― Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Life Together: The Classic Exploration of Faith in Community
As we continue to live in new degree’s of isolation and togetherness, consider how to reach out to one another, whether that is your normal pattern or not. I encourage you to call your families, do a Zoom or conference call with a friend, neighbor or coworker. Write that letter, send that email or text. When you see your neighbor outside, speak to them. Get out and take a walk and pray to the God who lives in eternal unity and fellowship, Father, Son and Holy Spirit.
We live in an unprecedented time where community is needed more than ever. I long for the day when we are together again, but until then I will fight to connect to do life together. I invite you into the new journey of doing life together.
Faith over Fear.
That is what we have heard a lot about these last several weeks.
We’ve encouraged it as a church, you’ve probably seen it in a
social media post from another Christian outlet, or maybe you have
even encouraged someone else with that same truth. And for good
reason, it is a good reminder during times like these. It is a good
reminder that faith is what should be produced in us as we seek the
Lord in this season. Pressing into the Lord during this time is
important for us all to do. Seeking refuge in the Lord is right.
But what if the Lord
is asking more of us? What if it is not just a simple equation of
replacing fear with faith. Or having faith, instead of fear. What if
the Lord wants to use this season for something much more?, What if
He wants to remove that which stands in our way of faith most often,
something that is actually at the root of the fear we often have?
What if before the Lord can increase our faith He has to do a much
deeper work; a much more inconvenient work in our life?
What am I talking
about? Well let me lead you there by way of describing first how the
Lord showed me this work just this week.
I was reading Exodus
14. Now this isn’t so much about what I was reading. It is more
about how, deep down in my heart, I was reading it.
It is a familiar story. Moses has led his people out of Egypt into the wilderness. The people have watched over time how God has shown up through plaques and miracles, signs and wonders, and now as a pillar of dust and fire. To say that these people have seen some amazing acts of God would be an understatement. He is literally leading them day and night in a pillar of dust and a pillar of fire by night.
But now they have come to the Red Sea, a geographical dead-end. And here comes Pharaoh, hard-hearted and ready to destroy the Israelites. Imagine you are an Israelite, you’ve seen God literally send an angel of death to fight for you. You have seen God overthrow and bring to his knees the super-power political leader of your day. You have spent the last several days watching as God manifest himself in your midst through dust and fire. And at the first sign of trouble you want to run back to Egypt. I mean, I can get you being afraid. I can get there being some trepidation in your voice and heart at this moment. I can even expect the question: “Lord this looks like a pretty tough situation. Not sure how you are going to get us out of this one.” I can understand all that, but No! The Israelites sarcastically mock Moses, basically saying, “Oh so you brought us out here to die. We told you so. We had it better in Egypt.” (Exodus 14:11-12)
And if I am honest
as I have told that story to kids, as I have read about it over and
over, there are times that, I may not have shaken my head, but deep
down in me, I was shaking my heart at least. I was scoffing at the
Israelites. “Oh yea of little faith! You’ve just witnessed God
fighting for you. And now you doubt him?”, my heart would say.
But this time,
during this season, reading that story in the midst of COVID-19
exposed my pride, arrogance, and vanity. I didn’t shake my heart at
the Israelites, I sadly identified with them. I asked myself, “How
many of your prayers sound like those Israelites?” I may not be
staring at the Red Sea, but take a second and look at your calendar
for April. Think about the prospect of employment if this season
continues. Look into the abyss of what is now our unknown situation
and see if you don’t feel a little bit of what the Israelites felt
Which leads me to
the inconvenient work the Lord is up to in my own life, maybe your
life, and maybe the church as a whole. We have talked a lot these
last few weeks about having faith and believing in the goodness of
the Lord. But what I have forgotten and maybe you have too, is that
belief and faith is a two-step process. Faith’s biggest obstacle is
not fear, it is what lies as the source of that fear, sin and
John the Baptist comes on the scene and his ministry can be summed up in three words, “Repent and Believe.” Jesus comes on the scene and begins his ministry in Mark 1:14 and his first recorded words in that gospel are this, “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand; repent and believe in the gospel.” Jesus first “sermon” in Mark is to call people to repentance and then belief. “Root out the sin, recognize where you have believed in opposition to my good news, and then believe in the gospel,” Jesus says. Repentance is always the first step in the process of deepening faith. Moving towards God is always accompanied by moving away from and acknowledging false beliefs, false gods, and insufficient idols.
I don’t say this
from an ivory tower or some emotionally distant vantage point. I
realize our current situation has already seen people lose their
jobs. Families are making or will begin to have to make tough
choices. Much of what lies ahead of us is unknown. That is why I
called what the Lord is wanting to do, such an inconvenient work.
Not an insensitive work, but an inconvenient one. In the midst of
all this unknown, in the midst of this Red Sea of questions and
worry, in midst of this diseases and hurt, the fact that the Lord may
want us to repent so that our faith could be made stronger is
inconvenient, from our human perspective at best.
But if we want more of God. If what we really seek is to be transformed into the likeness of His Son in the midst of this trial, then it would be foolish for us as a church not to recognize that the greater work of deepening faith may have to come through the road of repentance. We want to be comforted by God, but realizing areas where we have first made God small is often the first step in His comforting work.
Think back 6 months ago. Would you ever have believed, in the midst of your work and toil, your leisure and spare time, your business and money-making endeavors, that out there in the world somewhere there was lurking a little tiny virus, no bigger then 1/1000th of an eye lash that could bring the world to its knees? Our biggest weapons, all our money, and all our power have yet to stop this thing. At best right now all we hope to do is contain it. Oh but how powerful, whether we realize it or not, did we feel at that time. How little thought did we give of the millions of ways God’s good grace was maintaining our world and keeping us going. How much of our days did we think that we, in our own power and might, happened because of our ability to make it so?
And yet a tiny virus
has shown us that we aren’t as in control as we thought we were.
One tiny virus has shown up and once again reminded us how fragile,
how needy, and how vulnerable we are. And we would be worse off if
we simply hunkered down during this time, thought nothing of the
different ways, known and unknown, that we have forgotten God in the
midst of our everyday lives.
God brought his people to the Red Sea because he loved them. It was easy for God to get them out of Egypt, but it took a much longer time to get Egypt out of them. The same is true for us. We are living a similar exodus story. The Israelites were brought to the Red Sea so that they would feel their need of God. And God has brought us to this point because we need the same. And neediness’ companion on this wilderness journey is often repentance. God may not part every figurative “Red Sea” for us. What God did for the Israelites in the wilderness that day, is not prescriptive for what God will do for you in your family, with your health, or with your job in this season. Not because God doesn’t care about those things, but because God has already parted this sea. He did it when His Son came to this virus infected earth and died on the cross for our redemption. He did it when he raised His Son from the dead because death had no claim on his sinless and perfect life, and he does it today because he is still ruling and reigning in the midst of the pandemic. God has not been dethroned by COVID-19. And as you look to an unknown future, acknowledge the ways in which you are stilled pulled to want to go back to Egypt. Acknowledge where you heart is prone to despair. Stare at the Red Sea of your future and be reminded of Moses words to the people at that day, “Fear not, stand firm, and see the salvation of the Lord.”
In Sunday’s message we explored what it means to blaspheme the Holy Spirit from Matthew 12:22-32, where Jesus heals a demon-oppressed man, and the religious leaders attribute Jesus’ power to the work of demons. We learned that blaspheming the Spirit is settled opposition or resistance to God in the heart. The drift towards final rejection of Jesus is revealed when we attribute God’s transforming work to someone or something other than God or question Jesus’ power to change circumstances or people. This miraculous healing is accounted for in three of the four Gospels (see also Mark 3:29; Luke 12:10). Each account has different audiences (Pharisees in Matthew, scribes in Mark, and disciples in Luke). In each account, Jesus does not say that the audience has blasphemed the Spirit, but rather that unbelief sets a person’s life on that trajectory.
If you haven’t heard the message, I encourage you to check it out. Following the message, I had a couple of people ask me if I was suggesting that a true Christian could blaspheme the Spirit and lose their salvation. While I had hoped I was clear on this point, I thought it would be wise to answer this question with as much clarity as possible.
The answer to this question biblically is a clear, resounding, emphatic “no”. A true Christian cannot lose their salvation. There are several verses that gives us this assurance. In 1 John 5:11, John writes, “This is the testimony that God gave us eternal life, and this life is in his Son.” God gives us eternal life – not temporary life – by faith. This promise is confirmed in Romans 8:30. Paul writes, “Those whom he predestined he also called, and those whom he called he also justified, and those whom he justified he also glorified.” Notice the progression. The predestined are called, the called are justified, the justified are glorified. There is no uncertainty here. God’s work of salvation will be brought to completion in us by faith (see Philippians 1:6). In 1 Corinthians 1:8-9, Paul writes, “Jesus Christ will sustain you to the end, guiltless in the day of our Lord Jesus Christ. God is faithful, by whom you were called into the fellowship of his son, Jesus Christ our Lord.” Those who are truly in Christ will finish the race set before them.
How, then, do we reconcile the reality that we cannot lose our salvation with the warning Jesus gives about not blaspheming the Spirit? This isn’t the only warning offered to true believers in Scripture. There are multiple references in the New Testament where Christians are warned against willful sin against God. Hebrews 6 and 10 could give you the impression that a Christian can lose their salvation. The Apostle John also dealt with these issues in 1 John. He actually tells us that he wrote 1 John to help assure the believers of their standing in Christ (“I write these things to you who believe in the name of the Son of God that you may know that you have eternal life.” [5:13]).
The person who has blasphemed the Spirit is either unwilling or unable to repent. They have no desire for God, no interest in spiritual things, and nothing but contempt for Jesus and the Spirit’s work in their lives. But the life of a true Christian is a life of repentance and belief. Not just one-time repentance and faith, but a daily posture of repentance and faith. If you have that posture and desire, you can’t blaspheme the Spirit.
Someone who is truly in Christ will not remain in a willful state of defiance against God. In fact, that’s John’s point in 1 John. He writes, “No one who abides in him keeps on sinning; no one who keeps on sinning has either seen him or known him” (1 John 3:6). Henry Alford says this about blaspheming the Spirit (the unpardonable sin): “It is not a particular species of sin which is here condemned (like, oh have I done that one thing?) but a definite act showing a state of sin, and that state a willful determined opposition to the present power of the Holy Spirit; and this as shown by its fruit, blasphemy.” Did you notice the key? Willful determined opposition.
A true Christian may experience a season of disobedience. But he or she will not remain there. He or she will not set up long-term camp in a life of disobedience. We can grieve the Spirit and quench His work in our lives, but a true Christian cannot and will not dig his or her heels in the dirt in opposition to the Spirit’s work. God’s Spirit will lead them to repentance. Our very repentance is evidence of God’s mercy to awaken us to our need and set us back on course in our faith.
We must remember that the evidence of our faith is not merely a past decision or past act of faith. Many believers have a false assurance of salvation because the basis of their hope (confession of faith as a child) is not matched but an active, vibrant, present pursuit of Christ. Our salvation is revealed as much by the present expression of faith and repentance as past expressions of faith and repentance. If a person has a kind of hardness of heart that sees Jesus as true, but willingly walks away from his influence, authority, and work in their lives, they are on a perilous trajectory spiritually.
This is why the Holy Spirit warns those on the edge of danger: “Today, if you hear his voice, do not harden your hearts” (Psalm 95:7-8; Hebrews 3:7-8).
Three wishes. What would you ask for
if you could be granted three wishes? In the movie Alladin, he asked the
genie to make him a prince and save his life. For his final wish, he asked that
Genie be set free to live a life outside the confines of his magic lamp. It can
be fun to ponder what you would ask for if you could have anything your heart
Think of your most extravagant thought. Think of something
beyond your wildest dreams. No matter how creative your imagination is, and no
matter how insatiable your appetite for pleasure might seem, there is still a
limit to what you are able to conceive. There are boundaries around what you
imagine happiness and fulfillment could be. There’s a limit to what you can
But God does not have the same limitations you and I do. For
the past several months I’ve been meditating on Ephesians 3:20-21:
Now to him who is able to do
far more abundantly than all that we ask or think, according to the power at
work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout
all generations, forever and ever. Amen.
God is able to do far more abundantly than what we’ve
asked him to do. He is able to do immeasurably more than what we think. There
are no boundaries or limitations to his power and work. God knows no earthly
boundaries that can confine or confound the work he is pleased to do through
the church. Nothing and no one can prevent him from fulfilling his best plans
and purposes for his children.
Did you notice where his immeasurable work is accomplished? It is accomplished “within us”. The immeasurable, inconceivable, incomprehensible, unmatched work of God isn’t accomplished as an outside force or power imposed upon us. It is the power of God at work from within us as the presence of Christ dwells in his people (Ephesians 1:13, 3:14-19).
God, who has overcome our weakness and sin and rebellious
hearts, who has redeemed us by faith through the life, death, and resurrection
of Jesus, who ensures our endurance through the trials of this life by the
power of his Spirit, is capable of far more than we can ask or imagine. Think
about it. Who of us thought the latter was possible? Who of us, at our
conversion, were as confident in God’s power to set us free from the slavery of
our sin, as we are today? We can testify of God’s power to do for us more than
we imagined him doing when we first met him by faith in Jesus. He’s done great
things in our lives that we never imagined, and perhaps didn’t even ask him to
We have every spiritual blessing we need in Christ, and yet,
in our experience of Christ, we’ve only scratched the surface of the reality
that is promised to us by faith in Christ. God is not just able to do
more than we can ask or imagine. Because God’s goal is great glory for himself
and our great joy in his glory, he is going to do more than we think to ask or
imagine. He understands we are far too easily pleased and distracted because
there are limits to what we can imagine. C.S. Lewis speaks to limits on our
imaginations in his sermon, “The Weight of Glory”:
If we consider the unblushing
promises of reward and the staggering nature of the rewards promised in the
Gospels, it would seem that our Lord finds our desires not too strong, but too
weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and
ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to
go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the
offer of a holiday at the sea. We are
far too easily pleased.
Here’s the thought that has consumed me in recent weeks: we are not asking enough of God. While I can’t wait to share with each of you stories about what God has done and will continue to do in our church in recent weeks in the everyONE Iniatitive, I can’t escape the haunting thought that we’re asking God to do far less than we should be asking him to do. I truly believe he has more for us. More transformation. More discipleship. More freedom. More impact in our city and around the world for the glory of his name.
Will you consider joining me in asking God to help us dream
big for Jesus beyond the limits of our imagination? I want a more audacious
faith. I want a boldness before God that shamelessly asks him to make Ephesians
3:20-21 real at Community Bible Church. What I want is not more of God’s
blessings. I want more of God. I want to know in ways I’ve yet to experience
the fullness of joy that is found in Jesus alone (Psalm 16:11). I want us to
live full lives in his acceptance and embrace.
I’m so excited about our new series titled “Holy Spirit”. If we are going to experience the fullness of God’s work in us as a family of redeemed sinners, it won’t happen apart from understanding and yielding to who the Spirit is and what the Spirit wants to do in each of us personally and our church corporately. The Holy Spirit makes Jesus real to us. The Holy Spirit awakens us to God and what He is doing all around us. The Spirit’s work is vast and vital.
In our message this coming Sunday, we are going to explore three elements of the Spirit’s work in our lives. But He does far more than just three things. I wanted to take just a few minutes to share with you one aspect of His work that we won’t be able to address this coming Sunday.
When I was a kid, I used to love catching lightening bugs (fireflies). How cool is a bug with a bulb on its backside? I recently read a fascinating story about the synchronous firefly, found only in a few places in the world. You can see this rare species with a short drive to the Allegheny National Park (Tennessee) or Congaree National Forest (South Carolina). These fireflies all light up at the same time. One spectator said it was like watching the Milky Way “flash on and then off”. Wouldn’t it be amazing to see the dark sky illuminated all at once by a hundred thousand fireflies showing of their glory in one spectacular mating ritual (that’s why they do it)?
To illuminate something is to “cast light on” or “make something brighter”. That’s what the Spirit does for us concerning the things of God. He enables us to see what we would not otherwise be able to see without His light.
Here’s what we often vastly underestimate about our capacity for God. We have no shot at understanding God or the gospel or what it means to follow Jesus apart from the illuminating work of the Holy Spirit. Paul speaks to this in 1 Corinthians 2:14:
“The natural person does not accept the things of the Spirit of God, for they are folly to him, and he is not able to understand them because they are spiritually discerned.”
The world – and we are all products of a worldly way of thinking as a natural person – has rejected the Spirit (John 14:17). Consequently, we cannot understand the things of God. Worldly wisdom rejects the wisdom of God revealed by the cross of Christ (1 Corinthians 1:18). This is a by-product of our fallen, sinful nature. In addition, the Enemy blinds us to the beauty of God (2 Corinthians 4:4).
Without the Spirit giving us light, trying to understand spiritual things is like asking a newborn to do calculus. It’s beyond our reach. What this means practically is that our pursuit of God – through spiritual disciplines, by faith, in community – is always a spiritual journey.
We, of course, use our mind when pursuing God. But pursuing God is not only a pursuit of the mind or heart. The Spirit must turn the light on for us. The gracious work of God is to enable us to “see” the Kingdom (John 3:3; Acts 16:14; Ephesians 1:18; Rom 2:29; 2 Cor 3:15-16). The work of the Spirit is to dispel darkness and point us to Jesus (2 Corinthians 4:6).
Where we see Jesus most clearly is in God’s Word. The Spirit opens our deaf ears and blinded eyes to see the truth about God revealed to us in the Word of God. Intellect alone will not make us believe in God and follow Jesus. The Spirit must bring His beauty, truth, power, and love into the light and enable us to see it.
What does this mean for us practically as we seek to deepen our relationship with Jesus? It means (at least) two things:
Embrace the reality that your relationship with Jesus requires supernatural intervention. You and I cannot – in our own strength, mental capacity, intellect – rightly understand the things of God. God certainly uses means of grace (prayer, Bible study, biblical community, suffering, etc.) to grow us in godliness, but none of those means of grace can be rightly applied or engaged in apart from the illuminating work of the Holy Spirit. So, we need to ask the Spirit to work through whatever means of grace God provides to make us more like Jesus.
Ask God to open your eyes when you seek Him in the Word. The psalmist prayed, “Open my eyes, that I may behold wondrous things out of your law” (Psalm 119:18). Every encounter with God in His Word should be preempted by a humble acknowledgement we are completely dependent upon God to rightly understand who He is in His Word. Ask the Spirit to show you God’s intended meaning for you that reaches far beyond the ink that forms the words impressed upon the pages of Scripture.
I’m praying we would all rightly discover more intimacy with God as the Spirit lights our path to show us the beauty and all-surpassing worth of Jesus.