For several years, when I was a young pastor, the way to sell books in the Evangelical world was to make a hyphenated term using the word, “Gospel,” and insert it into your title. We saw a superfluous amount of “Gospel-centered” books, but “Gospel-driven” and “Gospel-powered” were thrown into the mix as well. I truly appreciated this emphasis, knowing that Paul delivered the gospel “as of first importance” (1 Corinthians 15:3–4). But, as with every fad, we began to use the terminology without explanation, assuming that it was already understood. This has led to ambiguity about what is most necessary for our lives as Christians.

The gospel, and its implications for all of life, must be continually clarified in each generation, or else we, and those who come after us, will be given over to spiritual drift. What does it mean to live in light of the good news of Jesus Christ? A short blog post certainly can’t answer that question thoroughly, but it’s a start. So, let’s begin again to explain the old, old story and how it shapes our decisions in everyday living.

In Galatians 2:11–14, Paul tells us that he opposed Peter to his face because his conduct “was not in step with the truth of the gospel” (v. 14). The conduct he is referring to is Peter’s choice to distance himself from Gentile Christians whose fellowship he had been previously enjoying. He did this, we are told, because he “[feared] the circumcision party” (v. 12), who believed Gentiles needed to live like Jews to be saved (v. 14). Peter’s separation from Gentile Christians gave functional approval to the false teaching of the circumcision party, and thus, conveyed a functional denial of the truth of justification by faith alone.

Paul’s assessment of Peter’s actions is instructive. Gospel doctrine should be reflected in gospel living. Our decisions flow out of what we believe in any given moment, and, practically speaking, we are not always believing the gospel. What we believe on paper (i.e., our doctrinal statement) is not always consistent with the decisions we make in everyday life. Our functional faith is not always the same as our confessional faith.¹

For Peter, his confessional faith in justification by faith alone did not match up with his functional faith, which was, on that occasion, believing the lie of works righteousness. What about you? Which facet of the gospel have you been functionally denying? What gospel doctrine have you been out of step with?

What about the doctrine of adoption? In our worry, for instance, we are not in step with the truth that we are sons and daughters of God. Are you sitting in a cloud of anxious meditation wondering how you’re going to pay for all those medical bills and still have enough left for groceries? Remember what Jesus says in Matthew 6:31–32,

Therefore do not be anxious, saying, “What shall we eat?” or “What shall we drink?” or “What shall we wear?” For the Gentiles seek after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them all (emphasis mine).

The one who knows of your needs is your heavenly Father. Through Jesus, you’ve been adopted into the loving care of God’s household, to enjoy all the security of His provision and protection. Infinitely more than evil fathers who give their children good things, God delights to bless you through your prayers (Matthew 7:11). But when we worry, we are out of step with this reality. Today, you may need to repent of your functional unbelief in the gospel and return afresh to this facet of the gospel diamond.

What about our union with Christ? When you give into temptation, thinking that the enticement of the flesh is just too strong to resist, you are out of step with this crucial gospel doctrine. Recall Paul’s words in Romans 6:6–7,

We know that our old self was crucified with him in order that the body of sin might be brought to nothing, so that we would no longer be enslaved to sin. For one who has died has been set free from sin (emphasis mine).

By grace through faith in Jesus, you have been spiritually united to Him, which means that sin is no longer inevitable for you. You are no longer bound to your fleshly will. Therefore, no matter how intense the temptation may feel, you can say “no” and turn to God in faith. Is this gospel doctrine one that you need to have unsheathed in your struggle with sin?

What about the promise of the forgiveness of sins? When you wallow in the shame of the sins you’ve committed, you functionally deny this powerful gospel doctrine. Dwelling on your guilt and offense toward the Lord leads to a state of despair that refuses the hope of knowing that, in Christ, God does not hold your sins against you. Remember the words of David in Psalm 103:11–12,

For as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is his 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 (emphasis mine).

The gospel says that God held your sins against Jesus instead of you. This means that you should never think of your sins apart from the cross and the empty tomb. Punishing yourself with grief is to act as though Jesus’ work of atonement was not enough—as if there’s work left to be done. Is this consistent with your doctrinal statement, your confessional faith? Of course not. You would never dare teach such a heresy. So then, don’t allow yourself to live this way.

Keeping in step with the gospel has a myriad of everyday applications since there are so many facets to the gospel diamond. We must not allow ourselves or those we influence to lose the heart of Gospel-centricity. Let us be diligent to act and speak in the way Paul did to Peter, knowing that the gospel is doctrine that shapes life.

¹ Tim Chester, You Can Change, p. 75

Note: This article originally appeared on thecbcd.org. We encourage you to visit The Center for Biblical Counseling and Discipleship where you can find helpful, biblical resources by a number of trusted pastors and authors.

“Then Boaz said to his young man who was in charge of the reapers, “Whose young woman is this?” Ruth 2:5

Of the many things that can be said of Boaz, one is that he is observant. He notices Ruth right away, asking his foreman, “Whose young woman is this?” We don’t know why Boaz recognized her so quickly. Many presume it is because of Ruth’s beauty, though there is no description of Ruth's appearance anywhere in the biblical text.

For what it’s worth, I don’t think we’re meant to know what Ruth looks like; it’s not important. Her beauty is from her heart, which is set on the Lord, and blazes forth in a blinding fashion. She exemplifies Proverbs 31:30, “Charm is deceitful, and beauty is vain, but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised.”

 The better explanation is that Boaz is the kind of man to notice. Based on how graciously he speaks to his workers, you can see the sort of man he is. He is a man who cares about his workers, and whose workers care about him. Much like a great military commander who makes it a point to know all of the names of each of his men, Boaz is the type of man to know each individual in his employ, and so when a stranger arrives, he notices. Ruth’s reply to him in Ruth 2:13 is a sort of pun, “You have noticed the unnoticed.”

Christian, who do you notice? On Sunday, are you so resigned to your routine that you stick to the same conversation circles with those you already know? Or, do you take it upon yourself to greet those you don’t know? Do you take notice when new visitors arrive? Do you make it a point to seek them out, to get to know them? To introduce yourself? Do you make yourself not only readily available, but almost unavoidable by waiting at the exit when people leave?

Sadly, there are many churches where visitors can come in and out with the tide. They slip in the back, and leave unnoticed, and many churchgoers seem okay with this unspoken arrangement because it makes life more comfortable for them too. Let’s not forget about those people in your church who you have seen coming for a while but you still have not introduced yourself to. Noticing, greeting and welcoming new and old visitors is not just a job exclusively held by your pastor and the greeting team. This is the job of the entire church. We are called to welcome one another, new and old (Rom. 15:5-7).

Boaz demonstrates this beautifully in the second chapter of Ruth, not just by noticing Ruth when she comes into his field, but also by being willing to transcend the social chasm separating him and Ruth. As a worthy man (2:1), a man of position and status, he must come down to her. It’s the same things Christ was willing to do for you and me (Phil. 2:6-11). And to this we are also called to be His imitators (1 Cor. 11:1).

Jesus repeatedly “notices the unnoticed” throughout the gospels. In John 5:5, He took notice of one man among the crowd who had been waiting for 38 years to be healed. In Luke 19, Jesus noticed Zacchaeus, that wee little man, up in the sycamore tree and called him to come down. In Mark 5, He noticed when someone touched the hem of his robe. Over and over again Jesus notices the unnoticed. After all, He noticed you and me, didn’t He? How can we not help but notice others now?

In Matthew 9:36-38, Jesus noticed the crowd and had compassion on them as sheep without a shepherd, “When he saw the crowds, he had compassion for them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd. Then he said to his disciples, “The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few; therefore, pray earnestly to the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest.”

In the middle of a harvest of barley, Boaz recognized the heavenly harvest, the one who had come to take refuge under the Lord, and he welcomed her and brought her into the community of the God she had come to. The harvest is plentiful, but the workers are few. How are you to  labor in His field unless you become more like Jesus; become a people who take notice. Christian, take notice!

“So Naomi returned, and Ruth the Moabite her daughter-in-law with her, who returned from the country of Moab. And they came to Bethlehem at the beginning of barley harvest.” Ruth 1:22

“So she kept close to the young women of Boaz, gleaning until the end of the barley and wheat harvests. And she lived with her mother-in-law.” Ruth 2:23

“...saying, “These six measures of barley he gave to me, for he said to me, ‘You must not go back empty-handed to your mother-in-law.” Ruth 3:17

How often have we paused to reflect on the subtlety of barley in the story of Ruth? If we’re honest, probably not often. Of course, we recognize the physical importance of barley, yet filling their bellies is only the tip of the iceberg. It’s no inconsequential thing that the first three chapters of Ruth end with barley, barley, and yes, more barley. But why?

The words of Naomi ring in our ears, “I went away full, and the LORD has brought me back empty…” (Ruth 1:21). We can understand her lament. Here is a woman who has lost everything: her husband, her children, and is now left without a protector, a provider, or a future (as far as she can see). On every level, except biologically, she is dead; her life is over. These words are partially true. God has gone out against her; He is sovereign over all things, but they are incomplete because the God who takes away is also the God who gives.

Naomi’s vision has narrowed so much that she can’t even see what He now gives, including her daughter-in-law, who enters the city gates beside her, faithfully remaining by her side in an act of unspeakable hesed love. How does God deal with this bitter and marred Naomi? Does He rebuke her? No. Does He chastise her? No. Does He correct her? Yes, but not how we might think. He corrects her & brings her barley.

Over the course of these chapters, we see the gradual filling up of this empty Naomi. First, the whisper of barley (Ruth 1:6), then a harvest (Ruth 1:22), then an ephah (Ruth 2:17), then six ephahs (Ruth 3:17) that Ruth might, “…not go back empty-handed to (her) mother-in-law…” (emphasis mine). All of this increase, and we haven’t even gotten to the grand finale, her precious grandson Obed, lying on her lap at the end of chapter four. What sustains and changes the heart of this empty and broken widow? The faithful love of God as shown to her through the simple provision of barley.

The Old Testament scholar Dale Ralph Davis was taking out his trash while reflecting on the repetition of barley in the narrative of Ruth. In the midst of this, he realized that the only reason he had garbage in the first place was that God was faithful! God had met their needs; He had given them their daily bread!

From the shoes on our feet, the clothes on our back, the hot water in our faucet, and beyond, all of these are little sheaves of barley which reflect the Lord’s daily faithfulness to His people. They remind us how much more precious we are to Him than lilies and crows. He is faithful to renew His mercies and provisions for us each morning. Perhaps this Valentine’s Day we should buy bundles of barley instead of roses. Thank you, Lord, for barley, barley, barley!

On occasion my wife and I will look at our two dogs asleep on the couch and jokingly say, “It must be nice.” Meaning, these dogs have a pretty cushy existence. They sleep all night, and their days are essentially one big nap interspersed with mealtimes, insane bouts of barking at the neighbors, and waiting for our teenagers to drop food on the kitchen floor. “It must be nice.” We utter these words as we think about busy schedules, parenting challenges, physical pain, and other “trials of various kinds” (James 1:2). Life is not easy, and I don’t know many people who think it is.

In fact, because we live in a fallen world, and the curse is ever-present, life can sometimes be devastatingly difficult. We have probably all experienced a season of suffering wherein we asked the question, “Why didn’t God just stop this from happening?” We know God is all-powerful, so we surmise that if He can stop something from happening, it would be better if He did. We assume “easier” means “better.” No one wants life to hurt. Pain doesn’t feel good, so we can easily conclude that a pain-free experience is a superior experience.

But is that God’s perspective? Think of the Book of Esther with me. A Jew named Mordecai refuses to honor Haman, the second in command to the king of Persia (3:2). As a result, Haman is furious and executes a wicked plan to have the king sign off on a decree stating that all the Jews in the kingdom are to be annihilated on a specific date several months in the future (3:5–15). As you can imagine, this leads to “great mourning among the Jews, with fasting and weeping and lamenting” (4:3).

Now, if you’ve read the book, you know that, in the end, God delivers the Jews and there is great celebration where there had been great mourning (9:20–22). With this in mind, we might ask, “Wouldn’t it have been better if God would have taken Haman out of the picture before he set his plan in motion?” Indeed, if Haman had never risen to his powerful position, then the Jews would have been spared all their grief. Every husband despairing at the thought of his wife dying, every mother struck with terror as she imagines the end her child will face—all gone. I mean, if God was planning on preserving them anyway, why put them through this agony at all?

Well, think of all that would not have transpired if God had chosen what was easier. Esther would not have exhibited great faith in risking her life to plead with the king for the lives of her people (4:16). We would not have this account of God’s poetic justice in having Haman hanged on the same gallows he constructed for Mordecai (7:9–10). The Jews would not have felt the sweet mercy of God in fully preserving them on the day their enemies attacked them (9:1). They would not have had the opportunity to rejoice and celebrate their deliverance with such satisfaction (9:17–19). The precision of God’s sovereignty, wisdom, and goodness would not have been displayed with such clarity.

The same can be said of the death of Christ. He could have chosen what was easier, but He prayed, “Not as I will, but as you will” (Matthew 26:39). He could have chosen what was easier, but He refused to appeal to His Father for the aid of more than twelve legions of angels (Matthew 26:53). He could have chosen what was easier, but he remained on the cross as the mockers jeered, “He saved others; He cannot save himself” (Matthew 27:42).

If Jesus would've chosen what was easier, there would be no forgiveness of sins, no reconciliation with God, no eternal life, no union with Christ, no church . . . and the list goes on. Easier does not mean better.

What about you? What is there in your life that you wish God would have prevented? Where in your life do you wish God had chosen what was easier? I’m sure these burdens are heavy, and some of them torturous, but imagine what would not be true if you had never experienced them. Did you learn to rely on God (2 Corinthians 1:8–9)? Did you return from your sinful pursuits to faithful obedience (Psalm 119:67)? Did God open your eyes to grasp His Word more deeply (Psalm 119:71)? Did you mature in your faith (James 1:2–5)? Did you behold the sufficient grace of Christ in your weakness (2 Corinthians 12:9)?

Perhaps, you’re thinking, “But I don’t see the good He is working through this difficulty, so what you’re saying doesn’t help me.” If that’s the case, please remember that we don’t have to see the good to believe that He is working it out. Hold on to this reality: in the plan of God, “this light, momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison” (2 Corinthians 4:17). When we reach that eternal weight of glory, no one will doubt that easier does not mean better.

Note: This article originally appeared on thecbcd.org. We encourage you to visit The Center for Biblical Counseling and Discipleship where you can find helpful, biblical resources by a number of trusted pastors and authors.

After finishing our preaching series in Matthew's Gospel, we asked the congregation to let us know how they had been blessed by the study.  We hope you enjoy these responses we received.

Daniel Roberts

There have been a few parts of this journey that stuck with me. The first sermon I ever heard preached from the pulpit of this church was Jesus feeding the 5,000 in Matthew 14. Jesus driving home the point of the disciples needing to return to him, empty handed, for blessing and the ability to serve others has stuck with me since. It pushes me away from a tendency to try to rely on my own strength and instead turn towards Christ for my ability to work and serve.

The sermon on Matthew 20 and the parable of the laborers in the vineyard has similarly stuck with me. When tempted to despair or be angry with God over different circumstances, I am reminded that nothing in the life of a Christian is truly fair. Grace isn't fair, the life granted to us and the forgiveness of our sins isn't fair. Jesus suffering on the cross for my sake was not "fair" in the way that we often understand the term. It reminds me that God's grace to us is freely given, exactly as he promised, to all who believe regardless of their past sins or current struggles. It is in accordance with the will of God that ALL who repent and believe receive the same blessing of knowing God and spending eternity in worship to Him.

The sermons in Chapter 27 yielded several more points that have remained with me. The juxtaposition of the guilt felt by Judas with the guilt felt by Peter challenged me to think about where my own guilt and grief stemmed from and to think about where I was taking that guilt. We also saw the guilt of the leaders, the crowd, Pilot, and ourselves as Jesus was delivered to be crucified. Changing my view to see myself and my undeservedness in Barabbas is humbling. The guilty one deserving death is set free so that the sinless Savior dies.

For me, the overarching takeaway of Matthew was love. Even outside of the summary of the law that Jesus gave in 22:37. God is a God of love. The Old Testament law was given as a loving act to the people of Israel in order to help them to see the goodness and faithfulness of God. Jesus came and demonstrated perfect, loving obedience to God through his entire earthly life by showing loving kindness in all that he did and said. We must shift our view of what love truly is. Love is leaving your nets, your father and mother, your life of comfort or rebellion, and choosing a life of trial and true fullness of joy. Love is confronting the straying christian and the lost with their sin. Love is calling them to turn to God for repentance to rescue them from the consequences of their sin. Love is serving and praying for those who will soon abandon you as you face death. Love is saying "Father not my will, but yours be done", submitting an earnest desire to avoid trial to God. Love is suffering and dying so that others may gain life. Love is sending the disciples out on an impossible mission under immense persecution but giving them the promise that the holy Creator of the universe would be with them ALL their days, giving them the strength to carry on. Love is submission to the Father trusting that HIS love will transform us in our submission.

Cate Richardson

The sermon series through Matthew gave me a deeper, clearer understanding of Jesus and his heart. I was blessed by two contrasting but central themes. The first was the theme of being salt and light as preached from Matthew 5, and the second was the theme of how to treat God's "little ones" as preached from Matthew 25.

Circumstances are such that I spend a great deal of time with unbelievers. I care for them deeply but it can be difficult and I sometimes wonder what the point of it is. It was encouraging to hear that salt actually only has it's purpose when coming into contact with something that is decaying. It's still not always easy but it made me feel a renewed sense that God must have me where he wants me.

The other theme pressed the significance of how we treat other believers. I don't know where I got the idea that wanting to be around other Christians is wrong to prioritize too highly, because Jesus himself commends it as the best kind of fruit you can bear. It's good to know that wanting to be with other Christians, to have substantial and meaningful relationships, is worth the effort it takes to do so.

Bob Bell

I view social media on a regular basis. Lately, I have seen a tremendous amount of anti-Christian posts. I used to swipe past them. The series in Matthew helped me realize I need to be contending for the faith. Now I interact with some of these posts, seeking to uphold God's truth. It has led to a number of conversations, which gives me opportunities to reveal more truth. Some of these get into the deep theology of the sovereignty of God, sin, and evil. Another thing this series taught me is that it's not up to me to sway anyone to the truth. That’s God’s job. The Spirit is the one who opens the eyes of the blind. All I am to do is reveal the truth with boldness. It’s a start.

This morning, as I drove to work, I stopped by a gas station to get a cup of coffee. After a restless night, I had missed my alarm and made off to work without my usual cup to start the day. With a coupon for a free coffee, I filled up the small cup, added some creamer, and headed to the front checkout. To be honest, I wasn’t sure if the coupon would be accepted, and a small twinge of doubt seeded in my mind. At the register, I tentatively handed over the coupon, holding my breath hoping it wouldn’t be rejected. The clerk kindly scanned the coupon and waved to signal that I was good to go. As I walked out to my car, holding my small cup of coffee, my heart was filled with thankfulness and relief. I was thankful for this blessing from God. Even in a small cup of gas station coffee, His goodness is shown to His children (Matt. 7:11).

Isn’t it true that this is how He delights to interact with His children? The troubles of each day find us, sure enough, and begin their unrelenting harassment. Perhaps you, like myself, didn’t get a restful sleep, so your day begins with a groggy wakeup call. Perhaps when you wake up, your day starts with bodily aches and stabbing pain. Perhaps your alarm clock was your toddler informing you that they had wet the bed that morning, and you had to get up three hours before you had planned. Perhaps you woke up to a schedule that is already brimming over, and you’re unsure how you are to survive the day. However the trouble of each day finds you, our dearly beloved Brother, daily bids us to come to Him (Matt. 11:28-30). He holds out to us an abundance of new mercies and graces (Lam. 3:21-23). We come in hungry, thirsty, in need, often in a hurry. Perhaps we come in with uncertainty that we will indeed find what we need here, or worried we may be turned away, but we have come anyway. Like the leper in Matthew 8, “Lord, if You are willing...” (emphasis added). He greets our hesitation with certainty as He warmly ushers us in and to take what we need, “I am willing!...” (Matt. 8:3). We tentatively take a few new mercies off the shelf, and God kindly smiles. Rather than a harsh,” Where do you think you’re going with those?” we find He asks, “Are you sure you don’t want anything more before you go?” and, “Couldn’t you fit just a few more in your left pocket there?” (Ps. 69:11; Isa. 55:1).

In his book “The Wells of Salvation Opened,” the Puritan William Spurstowe compares the promises of Scripture to golden coins in a bag. God comes to His children with a purse of more than 3500 promises found in His Word, draws loose the string, and pours out these riches onto the table, saying,” Take my child, what you will!” It is His delight to give us good gifts, namely, to give us Himself each day. In every trouble, every trial, every pain, suffering, and joy, He is with us. He is near us. He bids us to come to Him. In Him, we have all that we need (Ps. 23:1).

When we, as His children, come before God’s throne of grace in desperate need each morning, we never have to fear that He will turn us away. Unlike coming with a wrinkled gas station coupon, we come in the full assurance of Jesus Christ, and He delights to fill our hearts with all that they need and more.

“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places, even as He chose us in Him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and blameless before Him. In love He predestined us for adoption to Himself as sons through Jesus Christ, according to the purpose of His will, to the praise of His glorious grace, with which He has blessed us in the Beloved” (Ephesians 1:3-6).

“Be a good Berean.” If you have a history in the evangelical church, even a short one, you’ve likely heard this charge. It comes from Acts 17:10–11 where Paul and Silas leave Thessalonica and enter the town of Berea to proclaim the gospel in the synagogue there. The Jews in Berea are said to be “more noble than those in Thessalonica” because they were “examining the Scriptures daily” to see if Paul’s teaching was in accordance with the Old Testament.

So, if you’re going to be a good Berean, you need to exercise discernment when you’re listening to someone who claims to be speaking (or writing) God’s truth. This discernment is utilized by running any given teaching through the filter of God’s Word. Are the teacher’s words consistent with what God has revealed in Scripture?

Amen! There is a lack of discernment in our churches, and we need to promote this kind of intentional care with our ears and hearts before we can accept what is being taught. But is that the only reason the Bereans were more noble than the Thessalonians? Let’s look at all of verse 11:

"Now these Jews were more noble than those in Thessalonica; they received the word with all eagerness, examining the Scriptures daily to see if these things were so (emphasis mine)."

Before Luke writes about the Bereans examining the Scriptures, he tells us that they received what Paul was teaching with a posture of zeal. As one author says, “They were leaning in and expecting something great to come from God’s Word. They anticipated that it would speak to them, guide them, and not fail them.”¹ This attitude, combined with their careful examination of Scripture, demonstrates that they weren’t gullible, but neither were they spiritually cold and calculating. In other words, biblical discernment has a certain heart behind it.

What is the heart behind what you call discernment in your own life? Does it match that of these noble-minded Bereans? Does it lean forward with passionate expectancy, longing to behold God’s glory in His Word? Or does it look more like what Derek Thomas describes when he says, “Some Christians have developed a critical spirit by which they are no longer able to appreciate the good or helpful aspects of a sermon and merely focus on what is deficient. Behind it lies a form of spiritual snobbery and arrogance”?²

When we’re not eager for God’s truth, the heart behind our “discernment” can quickly become eager for being right or pointing out how others are wrong. Censoriousness among Christians has become far too prevalent a characteristic on social media. Certainly, believers must be on the alert against false teaching, and false teachers must be confronted. But without a Berean heart behind our discernment, secondary issues are seen as litmus tests for heresy, and believing comrades are seen as enemies.

Sadly, on the subject of spiritual discernment, there is a text in Mark 9 that I rarely hear referenced:

"John said to him, 'Teacher, we saw someone casting out demons in your name, and we tried to stop him, because he was not following us.' But Jesus said, 'Do not stop him, for no one who does a mighty work in my name will be able soon afterward to speak evil of me. For the one who is not against us is for us'" (vv. 38–40, emphasis mine).

No Christian should be naïve in ministry, but having a heart that rejoices when Christ is being followed keeps us from having a prideful “Gotcha!” attitude when someone isn’t towing the line of our specific tribe. This text along with Acts 17:11 tell us that the heart behind true discernment is a heart that desires to know Christ and see Him be known by others, even when the ones who are making Him known aren’t from your circle.

The reality is that without this kind of heart, your “discernment” will continue to shrink your circle until it becomes an island where the only ones welcome are those who flash the badge of your meticulously precise brand of Christianity. Brothers and sisters, even our discernment needs to be discerned, because discernment is not just about making sure the teaching is biblical. It’s also about an eagerness for Christ—His Word and His mission.

¹ Jonathan Landry Cruse, “How to Be a Berean,” Table Talk Magazine, March 2023.

² Derek Thomas, Acts, p. 494

Note: This article originally appeared on thecbcd.org. We encourage you to visit The Center for Biblical Counseling and Discipleship where you can find helpful, biblical resources by a number of trusted pastors and authors.

Why is it that we tend to give each other a pass when it comes to the sin of complaining? Is it because we’ve adopted the worldly assumption that everyone needs to blow off a little steam sometimes (“I’m just venting”)? Is it because we believe it’s better to be authentic instead of fake in the company of others (“I’m just saying” or “I’m just keeping it real”)? Is it because we think it will somehow change our circumstances? Whatever the reason, it is ultimately an excuse, given what God says about complaining in His word.  

In Exodus 16, when the people of Israel complain against Moses and Aaron, saying that they brought them into the wilderness to kill them (vv. 2–3), Moses points out that they are really grumbling against the Lord (vv. 7–8). Further, in Philippians 2:14–15, Paul shows us the gravity of complaining, by revealing the powerful impact of refusing to grumble. By not grumbling, the Philippians show themselves to be “blameless and innocent, children of God without blemish in the midst of a crooked and twisted generation, among whom you shine as lights in the world.” The implication here is that complaining negatively affects your witness before the world.

God clearly doesn’t take complaining lightly, and neither should we. To this end, we need to define complaining. In his book, Stop Your Complaining, Ronnie Martin says, “[Complaining is] forgetting who God is.” When we complain, we sinfully express discontentment because we have not prioritized remembering God’s character and plan. What, then, do we forget about God when we complain? The list is long, but we will narrow it down to four things.

First, when we complain, we forget that God is our ultimate authority.

Consider the words of William Barcley on complaining: “It comes down to this: are we letting God be God, the Sovereign of the universe who orders all things for our good and His glory? Or, do we consider God to be at our disposal, providing for us and ordering our lives as we think best?”¹ When we remember that God is God and we are not, we don’t complain when He brings difficult circumstances into our lives. Instead, we respond to Him like Mary when Gabriel announced to her that she, as a virgin, would bear the Son of God in her womb: “Behold, I am the servant of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word.”

Second, when we complain, we forget that God has richly poured His grace upon us in Christ.

In Ephesians 1:3, Paul tells us that God has blessed us “in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places” (emphasis mine), but when we complain, we act like God has left us spiritually impoverished. As Stephen Altrogge says, “How often do we lift our heads from the buffet of God’s blessings only to voice a complaint?”² The truth is that on our worst day, because of God’s amazing love, we are God’s beloved children to whom He has granted all His precious promises. Absolutely nothing can separate us from His infinite love as He guards us through faith until we reach our inheritance which is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading (Romans 8:38–9; 1 Peter 1:4–5).

Third, when we complain, we forget that God knows what is best for us.  

Experiencing undesirable circumstances may provoke us to let go of sweet promises like Psalm 84:11: “No good thing does He withhold from those who walk uprightly.”  Difficulty doesn’t feel good, so we grumble as if we define goodness. But conformity to Christ is far better than physical comfort or social approval, and God has tailor-made “all things” in our lives to achieve that purpose (Romans 8:28–29). When we remember this, instead of complaining, we trustingly say, “If the Lord wills, we will live and do this or that” (James 4:15).  

Fourth, when we complain, we forget that God has freed us from the sin of complaining.

Because we are united to Christ in His death and resurrection, we don’t have to complain. It’s not inevitable. In fact, because the enslaving power of sin has been “brought to nothing” and we have been raised to “walk in newness of life,” we have all the power necessary to renounce complaining in exchange for Christ-exalting contentment (Romans 6:4–11). Therefore, even when everyone else at work is complaining about the boss, you can choose to work hard with gratitude that God has given you a job. When the price of eggs has gone up again, you can choose to remind your spouse that God has always provided for the family.

Sadly, complaining is a sin that is all too common, but it doesn’t have to be…for you or for me. The solution is to remember our great God—who He is and what He’s done for us in Christ. For every temptation to complain, there is a truth in God to answer it…as long as we will refuse to forget.

¹ William Barcley, The Secret of Contentment, p. 52.  

² Stephen Altrogge, The Greener Grass Conspiracy.

Note: This article originally appeared on thecbcd.org. We encourage you to visit The Center for Biblical Counseling and Discipleship where you can find helpful, biblical resources by a number of trusted pastors and authors.

We all play the comparison game to one degree or another. Whether it’s our financial situation, family life, physical appearance, or skill set, we all tend to measure ourselves against others. We even do this with our trials. Certainly, we do this when we look at someone with trials that seem insignificant compared to ours—“What gives!? Why is that person’s lot so much easier than mine?” But there’s another way Christians can do this that seems more humble.

Sometimes we look at those whose trials seem worse than ours and we discount the difficulty of our trials. We can perceive those who live in impoverished or war-torn parts of the world and think, “Life is so incredibly difficult there. I really don’t know what suffering is.” Or we can remember times in history when suffering seemed to be a way of life and think, “How can I ever think that life is hard?” We may look at those who have experienced loss or a life-threatening diagnosis and think, “My trials really aren’t trials.”

Surely, those scenarios are obvious examples of suffering. I don’t want to diminish that at all. But that does not mean your trials should not be deemed suffering. Consider this well-known text:

“Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing” (James 1:2-4).

There’s one word I want to highlight in this text: various. How kind of God to include this word! He knows that trials come in all shapes and sizes. Trials don’t have to reach a certain degree of difficulty to be considered a trial. And what may be a trial to one person may not be a trial to another. One person may find a particular experience invigorating while another may find it petrifying.

We are all different people with different personalities. We have different strengths and weaknesses. We live in different places and have different pasts. As a result, we should expect our trials to be different too. This is why Elisabeth Elliot’s definition of suffering is so broad: “Suffering is having what you don’t want or wanting what you don’t have.” Our sister is on to something. Her definition leaves enough room for what we might consider a nuisance all the way up to what can be described as excruciating.

Now, keeping this in mind should not lead us to tolerate a “woe is me” outlook or a victim identity. This, surely, springs from self-focus. But a spacious definition of trials does the opposite, leading us to focus on God and live out of His grace as we trust His promises.

Practically, if you look at someone with what seems like an excruciating trial and you determine that your trial is not really a trial because it seems so small by comparison, then you will cut yourself off from God’s grace and joy. Meaning, you will do something like tell yourself to suck it up, since this is clearly something another person would say is nothing to bat an eyelash at.

But if you have a “suck it up” mentality, thinking that your trials aren’t really trials because they’re not as hard as someone else’s, then you won’t see the need to apply God’s promises to your trouble. Instead, you'll try to buckle down and pull yourself up by your own bootstraps. If you think you're successful at this, you'll become self-confident. If you think you're unsuccessful at this, then you’ll become self-pitying. Either way, God is not central, and you'll be spiritually weaker.

But if you turn to the Lord and apply His promises to your trouble, you get to experience His blessing. Think back to our text. You have to believe that your trouble fits into the category of “trials of various kinds” (verse 2) before you can believe that God is using that trouble to produce steadfastness in you and move you closer to complete spiritual maturity (verses 3–4). Only then can you “consider it all joy” (verse 2).

God wants us to trust Him in all our trials, no matter what degree of difficulty. It pleases Him when we believe that He is wielding each hardship as a tool of spiritual construction, even when that hardship seems trivial to others. Brothers and sisters, don’t neglect to label your trials as trials, so that God gets the glory, and you get the blessing of knowing that God is working fruitfully through your trouble. Don’t let this be another way that comparison steals the joy God has promised.

Note: This article originally appeared on thecbcd.org. We encourage you to visit The Center for Biblical Counseling and Discipleship where you can find helpful, biblical resources by a number of trusted pastors and authors.

This post is for those who feel stuck…stuck in sin, stuck in despair, stuck in fear. Perhaps you’ve been in this place for some time now, and you’re wondering if you’ll ever get out. You’ve tried everything you can think of, everything your loved ones have suggested, and everything your pastor has recommended all without any lasting change. Your relationships are experiencing strain, your work life is suffering, and your will to perform basic tasks is waning. You think the best word to describe the way you feel is “hopeless.”

With much sympathy, I want to suggest a reason you might be stuck in this place: Perhaps you’re not hopeless enough. This is what a pastor friend suggested to Bob Kauflin as he was confessing the hopelessness he felt with his losing battle against the fear of man. I’m sure that must have sounded offensive to his ears at first. As deeply despairing and trapped as he felt, to have someone convey that it wasn’t enough must have come across as uncaring. But Kauflin’s friend went on to explain, “If you were completely hopeless, you’d stop trusting in what you think you can do to change the situation and start trusting in what Jesus Christ has already done for you at the cross.”[1]

Often a sense of hopelessness in our sin struggles only leads us to try harder, to keep working the problem from a different angle. So, we double down on our strategies and intensify our efforts only to throw up our hands in despair because we’ve failed again. We turn to self-trust and find that, left to ourselves, we are powerless against sin. Consider Paul’s words to the Colossians concerning their legalistic strategy of battling the flesh:

"If with Christ you died to the elemental spirits of the world, why, as if you were still alive in the world, do you submit to regulations— 'Do not handle, Do not taste, Do not touch' (referring to things that all perish as they are used)—according to human precepts and teachings? These have indeed an appearance of wisdom in promoting self-made religion and asceticism and severity to the body, but they are of no value in stopping the indulgence of the flesh." (Colossians 2:20-23)

Notice three things about this legalistic strategy: 1) it appears wise, 2) it promotes self-made religion, and 3) it profits nothing in the fight against sin. This strategy is deceitful because it looks like you’re taking sin seriously (appears wise), but it is centered on you and your efforts in confronting sin (self-made religion), which is why it fails in the fight (no value). Trusting in strategies like these will never deliver you from sin. You need to abandon any hope that you can slay the enemy within. As long as you harbor even a shred of hope that it’s in your power to do this, you will keep running back to your powerless, self-made religion.

So, how do you get unstuck? Paul answers this in the previous two verses:

"Let no one disqualify you, insisting on asceticism and worship of angels, going on in detail about visions, puffed up without reason by his sensuous mind, and not holding fast to the Head, from whom the whole body, nourished and knit together through its joints and ligaments, grows with a growth that is from God.” (Colossians 2:18-19, emphasis mine)

The lead false teacher in Colossae was teaching the church a kind of Frankenstein religion; pulling together different elements of error to form the lies he was touting. In all of this, his core problem was that he was not clinging to Christ—the Head—by faith. Paul is clear that the only way God grows Christians is through their union with Jesus. Therefore, Jesus must be central in your efforts to be free from your trappings.

In Colossians 3, Paul goes on to explain that you who are “raised with Christ” must “seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God” (v. 1, emphasis mine). Only then will you be able to “put to death what belongs to your earthly nature” (Colossians 3:5, CSB), or, if you like, get unstuck.

Considering this, the question is: are you hopeless enough to abandon all your futile, self-trusting efforts to change? And are you hopeless enough to flee to Christ, your Savior, whose death and resurrection ensures that you have everything in Him that you need to live faithfully?

After the conversation with his friend, a light turned on for Bob Kauflin. As he says, “I began to see that my inability to live in the good of the gospel was rooted in my desire to find hope in something I had done rather than in what my Savior had done.”[2] As a result, when he began to feel anxious and hopeless, he started preaching a new sermon to his heart: “I am a hopeless person. But Jesus Christ died for hopeless people.”[3]

This is not “let go and let God” theology. It is simply confronting your sin with the only power that is sufficient for the task—the power of Christ. It is out of His power that you forsake sin and embrace holiness. It is out of His power that you refuse to serve yourself and instead serve others. It is out of His power that you reject the pleasures of the flesh and delight in the pleasures of the gospel. Brothers and sisters, you are completely hopeless left to yourselves, but completely hopeful as you flee to Jesus.

Note: This article originally appeared on thecbcd.org. We encourage you to visit The Center for Biblical Counseling and Discipleship where you can find helpful, biblical resources by a number of trusted pastors and authors.

[1] Bob Kauflin, “The Fear of Man, Hopelessness, and the Gospel,” https://worshipmatters.com/2006/10/16/monday-devotion-2/

[2] Ibid.

[3] Ibid.

“What is light?” This is the kind of question young children may sometimes ask you, and it seems like the answer could be rattled off rather quickly. But as you open your mouth and begin to speak, your brow furrows, and you can’t quite find the words. You say to yourself, “Come on, you’re the adult here! You know what light is…it’s a fundamental reality to your existence every day. You’re sitting in a well-lit room right now! The kid is waiting for an answer…what is light?!”

You may have been similarly befuddled the last time you tried to explain faith to someone. Faith is something that we, as Christians, think about and reference often, but defining it is not as simple as expected.

We know we are saved by grace through faith, apart from works (Ephesians 2:8–9; Romans 3:23–28). We also know that, inside salvation, we are called to live by faith (Galatians 2:20). But what does that mean practically?

First, it’s important to remember that saving faith, which also shows itself to be daily faith, has Jesus Christ as its object. Paul says, “The life I now live in the flesh, I live by faith in the Son of God” (Galatians 2:20, emphasis mine). This is why Ian Hamilton writes, “Faith is ‘essentially extraspective’. Faith’s first glance is to Christ. But no less are faith’s continuing glances focused on Christ too.”¹

Second, it’s important to remember that to live by faith is not to live by sight (2 Corinthians 5:6–7). As we daily look to Christ in faith, we make decisions based on realities in Scripture that we cannot perceive with our senses. As Richard D. Phillips says, “By faith we live as if things were other than they appear, because of what God has said.”²

These unseen realities fit into a variety of categories. We believe God’s promises, which He fulfills for us in Christ (2 Corinthians 1:20). We believe God’s commands, which we obey as His children in Christ (1 Peter 1:14–16). We believe God’s attributes, which He expresses to us in Christ (Psalm 103:8–14). We believe what God says is good and right, which sets our priorities in Christ (Romans 12:1–2). Certainly, the list goes on, but the point is that living by faith in Christ means utilizing more than a handful of verses as we make God-glorifying decisions throughout the day. All of God’s Word is for us in Christ, so that we have a wellspring of truth to embrace for the panoply of situations we encounter throughout life.

This is highly practical when we consider what it looks like to live by faith and not by sight. Ian Hamilton explains: “It means to trust, no matter what, the word and promises of God, and to act accordingly.”³ That last part is crucial to grasp— “and to act accordingly.” As we look to Christ in faith, we believe the unseen realities of God’s Word, and that faith shows itself in making choices that seem strange to those who live their lives by sight. This we do, regardless of what our feelings say, because faith lets truth lead and feelings follow.

With this in mind, consider these examples, and notice how in each of them there is a denial of fleshly desire toward an action that is based on scriptural truth.

Faith and Suffering

2 Corinthians 4:17 – For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison.

In light of this text, faith in Christ says, “In my pain, I want to despair and withdraw from God, but I know He says He is using this trial to give me a more glorious future, so I choose to take heart and thank Him for His goodness.”

Faith and Fear

Proverbs 29:25 – The fear of man lays a snare, but whoever trusts in the Lord is safe.

In light of this text, faith in Christ says, “I want to avoid those people at church because I’m afraid of what they might think about me, but I know God says that is spiritually dangerous, so I will choose to speak to them in love and let God be my protector.”

Faith and Lust

Psalm 16:4, 11 – The sorrows of those who run after another god shall multiply…You make known to me the path of life; in your presence there is fullness of joy; at your right hand are pleasures forevermore.

In light of this text, faith in Christ says, “I want to visit that website, but I know God says that will only lead to increased sorrow, so I choose to seek exceeding pleasure in God as I take a walk in the park, praising Him for His awesome power and creativity.”

Faith and Anger

1 Corinthians 13:4–5 – Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude.

In light of this text, faith in Christ says, “I want to respond to my wife’s assumptions with a mean-spirited retort, but I know that God says love is not irritable or resentful, so I will choose to be patient and kind as I explain the details.”

Faith and Pride

Romans 15:2–3 – Let each of us please his neighbor for his good, to build him up. For Christ did not please himself, but as it is written, “The reproaches of those who reproached you fell on me.”

In light of this text, faith in Christ says, “I want to ghost that guy’s call because I’m pretty sure he needs help moving, but I know Jesus wasn’t pleasing Himself when He died for me, so I choose to take the call and follow my Savior’s steps.”

Faith and Church

1 Corinthians 12:7 – To each is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good.

In light of this text, faith in Christ says, “I want to sleep in and just watch the church livestream, but I know God says that the Spirit has given me gifts to use in serving the body of Christ, so I’m going to get to the service early to see how I can help.”

Thinking back to light, you would probably agree that it’s easier to detect than to define. We can point to light quicker than we can explain it. So it is with faith. These examples remind us that faith is active and practical in the Christian life. It’s not some theoretical concept fit only for academic roundtable discussions. Faith in Christ is detected when we choose to act on the unseen realities of God’s Word.

Note: This article originally appeared on thecbcd.org. We encourage you to visit The Center for Biblical Counseling and Discipleship where you can find helpful, biblical resources by a number of trusted pastors and authors.

¹The Faith-Shaped Life by Ian Hamilton, pp. 15-16.

²Faith Victorious by Richard D. Phillips, p. 5.

³The Faith-Shaped Life by Ian Hamilton, p. 12.

Over the past several months, I have often found myself needing to pray this prayer: “Lord, please help me today to live my life by faith and not by fear.” I need to pray this prayer because I am tempted to let fear call the shots more often than I care to admit. Have you ever stopped to consider how common it is for you to make choices because you’re afraid? Perhaps you speed to work because you’re fearful of what your boss will do if you’re late. Maybe you avoid certain people because you’re scared that they won’t approve of your decisions. Or it could be that you check your bank account obsessively because you’re afraid of financial insecurity?

If you begin to pay attention to your heart, it is likely that you will discover more decisions motivated by fear than you realize. But, as Christians, we’re called to live by faith (Galatians 2:20), not self-focused fear (2 Timothy 1:7). So, what is to be done if we see fear driving our decisions when it should be faith in our Lord Jesus Christ? A good place to start is to ask yourself a series of questions.

Do I Believe God Will Keep Me Safe?

Consider Proverbs 29:25—“The fear of man lays a snare, but whoever trusts in the Lord is safe.” When we fear man, we make decisions that we believe will protect us from the harm we think man will inflict. But this text clearly tells us that fearing man puts us in a place of danger, not a place of protection. The place of protection is found in trusting God. Do you believe God when He tells you what the real threat is? Do you believe God when He tells you where real safety is found? Surely, trusting God does not mean that life will be all peaches ‘n’ cream, but it will protect you in the most important ways. When we believe God, our hearts remain safe, even if our bodies and our circumstances are threatened.

Do I Believe God’s Way Is Right?

This question cuts through our excuse-making when we are fearfully motivated. If God has clearly revealed in His Word that He is pleased by certain words, activities, or attitudes, then there’s nothing we can say that will make a contrary choice justifiable. God’s way is right, no matter how strong the emotion of fear. For instance, God says we are to “consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some” (Hebrews 10:24-25). If fear of hurt feelings or unreciprocated relationship is motivating you to avoid meaningful commitment to a local church, this verse is given for your correction. You need to trust God to protect you and step out in faith, believing that His way is the one right way in this scenario.

Do I Believe God Will Provide What I Need to Overcome My Fear and Obey Him?

We make decisions out of fear when we forget God’s promises. Many of us are quite fearful of personal evangelism, filling our minds with thoughts of what people might think of us or say to us when we share the gospel with them. But, in Matthew 28, in the context of making disciples, Jesus promises, “Behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age” (v. 20). Jesus doesn’t mean that He is with us as a passive observer of our efforts to make disciples. He means that He is with us in all His sufficient power, so that we will be able to accomplish His mission as we lean on Him.

Do I Believe God Uses What Is Fearful to Show Me His Glory?

When we run from what is fearful, we miss out on beholding God’s awesomeness. In Matthew 14, think of what the disciples got to see against the backdrop of merciless wind and waves as they attempted to sail across the sea of Galilee. Jesus came to them walking on the water, and Peter, empowered by Christ, did the same until he doubted and began to sink. Then, as they both got back into the boat, Jesus brought immediate calm to the water (vv. 22-33). If we are always choosing the safe route, then we never put ourselves in a position to feel our great need for Jesus and then watch Him provide for that need in humbling ways.

Do I Believe Jesus Has Removed That Which Is Most Fearful?

In 1 Corinthians 15, Paul tells us, “The last enemy to be destroyed is death” (v. 26), and then we read in verses 56-57, “The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.” For the Christian, death is but a doorway to glory because Jesus died and rose again. Since Jesus has vanquished the enemy of death, we should expect Him to be powerful enough and gracious enough to help us with all other lesser fears. There is nothing so fearsome that we can’t face it with Jesus.

Because our fears lie to us, we need help being led out of the fog of fear’s deception. When you are tempted to let fear call the shots, these questions can be a quick guide back to the reality of God’s truth. There, we will find what we need to live as Christians. There we will find what we need to live by faith, not by fear.

Note: This article originally appeared on thecbcd.org. We encourage you to visit The Center for Biblical Counseling and Discipleship where you can find helpful, biblical resources by a number of trusted pastors and authors.

Of all the Christians I know, I have never heard a single one argue against the importance of prayer in the lives of God’s people. In fact, it is normal to hear brothers and sisters speak about their dissatisfaction with the frequency and fervency of their prayers because they understand just how crucial prayer is for their spiritual health. That thinking resonates in my own heart as well. But I want to be more precise in saying that different types of prayer are needed to nurture a healthy soul. Any one type of prayer alone can harm as much as it helps!

A variety of prayers are commanded and modeled in the Bible—prayers of adoration, thanksgiving, confession, intercession, supplication, and more. If we’re honest, one or two of these likely dominate our prayer lives. But your soul needs all of these for its spiritual well-being. Why? Because even with a means of grace like prayer, our flesh can lean toward pride and self-focus. Plus, the danger can be hard to spot since, in praying, we are engaging in something we see as holy.

Supplication Alone

Think of the effect of prioritizing supplication over other forms of prayer. Supplication is necessary for our spiritual health because it expresses dependence on the Lord. We are turning to the God of all grace and all resources saying, “I don’t have what I need, but You do. I can’t attain it, but You can provide it. So, please help me, for Your glory.” But over-emphasizing supplication leads a person to spend too much time thinking about self—“My problems, my weaknesses, my needs, my struggle, etc.”

It's critical to remember that Paul sees the antidote to anxiety as more than supplication. In Philippians 4:6 he writes, “Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God” (emphasis mine). In supplication, it’s easy to focus on getting what we need, which can be oriented toward self, and forget all the good God has already given. Thanksgiving points our hearts Godward; whereas, supplication alone can inadvertently keep our hearts fixed on the pressures around us.

Intercession Alone

There is also a danger in prioritizing prayers of intercession over other forms. Praying for the needs of others is a wonderful discipline for every Christian to embrace! But, if it is emphasized to the neglect of personal prayers of supplication and confession, it has gone too far. It can be difficult to admit weaknesses and sins, so some choose to have their prayer lives governed by prayers of intercession so that they don’t have to feel the weight of examining their own hearts and being honest about their needs and specific idols.

For example, Paul prayed for the churches (Ephesians 3:14-19; Philippians 1:9-10; Colossians 1:9-12), but he also requested prayer for himself as he sought to be faithful. He called on the Ephesians to pray “that words may be given to me in opening my mouth boldly to proclaim the mystery of the gospel, for which I am an ambassador in chains, that I may declare it boldly, as I ought to speak” (6:19-20). A commitment to intercessory prayer must be balanced with a commitment to prayers of confession and repentance. We must pray with David, “Against you, you only, have I sinned and done what is evil in your sight,” and, “Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me” (Psalm 51:4, 10). Varying our prayers in this way puts down the prideful shield of self-protection and allows God to be our refuge in Christ. Confession and supplication open our hearts to more of God’s sanctifying, sin-killing work; whereas, intercession alone can keep one’s heart closed to the Spirit’s transforming power.

Confession Alone

For others, there is a tendency toward giving too much weight to confession in their prayers. This also threatens the believer’s soul, even with the penitent appearance of such practice. Can it really be troublesome to pour out confessions repeatedly? Can such vulnerability and self-effacing honesty harm a Christian’s heart? Confession, without the balance of other types of prayers, can keep the eyes fixated on self, not in a prideful way, but a pitying way. When confession dominates your prayers, pride is not showing itself in a way that suggests you think highly of yourself, but in a way that shows you desperately want to think highly of yourself. It can even encourage self-trust if you are believing the lie that enough confession will bring you to a place of hope and peace.

These pitfalls display the need to bring in more prayers of worship or adoration. God then becomes central and you view your sins through His attributes, which A. W. Tozer says are all “on the sinner’s side.” In Psalm 40:12, David is open about his moral failure when he says, “My iniquities have overtaken me, and I cannot see; they are more than the hairs of my head.” But directly before this in verse 11, he makes it clear that he is viewing his sin through the lens of God’s character: “As for you, O LORD, you will not restrain your mercy from me; your steadfast love and your faithfulness will ever preserve me!”

When God, and not self, is the focus of our prayers, we are protected from attempting to use confession to get into God’s good graces. We remember that all our sins have been paid for at the cross because of God’s perfect love for us in Christ. Prayers of worship and adoration free us up to see confession as a way to return to fellowship with the One who would be so infinitely kind; whereas, confession alone may betray the sin of spiritual pride and self-sufficiency.

Our good Father knows exactly what our hearts need to thrive spiritually. In short, we need to prioritize Him. But in His wisdom, God knows we need different kinds of prayer for this to be a reality. With this in mind, what does balance look like in your prayer life moving forward?

Note: This article originally appeared on thecbcd.org. We encourage you to visit The Center for Biblical Counseling and Discipleship where you can find helpful, biblical resources by a number of trusted pastors and authors.

My oldest son recently took his driver’s test. Spending a year driving with his learner’s permit, he had worked hard to prepare, and several people were praying for him as the day approached. As you can imagine, with all his investment, we were eager for a report when he returned. As soon as my wife saw him, she asked him how it went, expecting him to give her an assessment of his performance. But the first thing out of his mouth was, “The driving instructor was wearing a lot of perfume.”

I’m not sure about you, but I think that’s funny. That my son thought the potency of his instructor’s perfume was more noteworthy than the demonstration of his year-long development as a driver deserves at least a chuckle. Do you laugh at things like this? Can you laugh at things like this? I realize that there are a lot of factors that play into whether you laugh at something… personality, appropriateness, season of life, etc. But every Christian ought to have a theology of a laughter because it is a subject God is not silent on. And with that theology ought to come a practice of laughter as well… for the glory of God and the good of your own soul.

Why We Don’t Laugh

Before we turn to pertinent Scripture texts on laughter, it will be helpful to consider the reasons why we, at times, don’t laugh. First, life is hard. As we survey our own circumstances, those of our family and friends, and the ever-present headlines, it’s easy to be worried, embittered, or despairing. How can you laugh when witnessing the languishing health of a loved one? How can you laugh after that report about another war-torn region of the world? How can you laugh when a friend is walking away from the church?

Second, our sin is dark. In Christ we are new creatures, we’ve been raised and seated with Him in the heavenly places, but the flesh remains. And, as we grow in Christlikeness, we see with greater clarity those thoughts, words, and actions in our lives that displease our Lord. How can you laugh when, only hours ago, you cut someone with sharp words in your anger? How can you laugh in this ongoing battle against lust? How can you laugh when you just don’t feel like doing the things you know God wants you to do?

Third, we take ourselves too seriously. Aside from the sin in our lives, there are the other things about us that we simply find embarrassing. These are the things that just come with being finite and living in a broken world. How can you laugh after that slip of the tongue that made you look like an idiot? How can you laugh when you look in the mirror and see the signs of aging? How can you laugh when everyone around you seems to know something that you don’t?

Why We Should Laugh

While the reasons above make it harder to laugh, they should not be used as reasons to keep us from laughing. As Christians, we have several solid reasons to enjoy the good gift of laughter. First, God is happy. In 1 Timothy 1:11, Paul writes of “the gospel of the glory of the blessed God” (emphasis mine). The word “blessed” here can easily be translated “happy.”¹ Knowing God is happy should be paradigm-shifting for us. With all the tragedy and sin in the world, God remains happy because He is not dependent on anything outside of Himself for this happiness.

When you are tempted to wallow in grief over your sin, you can preach to yourself that God is not dependent on your obedience to be happy. This reality can free you up from a burden that is impossible to bear and propel you back to the cross where your happy God happily secured you a place in His family through His beloved Son. In this freedom there is much room for laughter. Charles Spurgeon’s words resonate here: “He is the happy God; ineffable bliss is the atmosphere in which he lives, and he would have his people to be happy.”²

Second, we live in grace and await future grace. Looking to Israel’s past, the psalmist writes, “When the Lord restored the fortunes of Zion, we were like those who dream. Then our mouth was filled with laughter, and our tongue with shouts of joy; then they said among the nations, ‘The Lord has done great things for them’” (Psalm 126:1-2, emphasis mine). Like Israel, we too can look back throughout our past and see glorious examples of God’s kindness to us, which then remind us that He continues to be kind to us each day. How many of these examples might come rushing back to your mind as you scroll through old pictures on your phone? These memories are reasons for a mirthful, delighted laughter that senses the goodness of God’s grace to the undeserving. While there are many reasons to mourn in this life, we must not act as if there are only reasons to mourn. As Christians, we are immersed in grace because we are united to Christ, which means that we are surrounded by reasons to laugh.

But reasons for laughter are not just in our past and present, but our future as well. In Luke’s beatitudes, Jesus says, “Blessed are you who weep now, for you shall laugh” (6:21, emphasis mine). Because of God’s love in Christ, there will one day be no mourning when “the dwelling place of God is with man” (Revelation 21:3-4). Perhaps you remember the scene at the end of the film, The Return of the King, when Frodo wakes up in Rivendell after he and Sam cast the one ring into the fires of Mount Doom. As he sees his friends alive and well, knowing that the war has been won, they enjoy an unbounded celebration of laughter together. The laughter we will enjoy with God after Christ has returned and all our enemies are finally vanquished will far exceed the delight in that scene. Christian, this laughter awaits you, and that is itself a reason to laugh.

Third, laughter is good for you. Proverbs 17:22 says, “A joyful heart is good medicine, but a crushed spirit dries up the bones.” In God’s design, sometimes the things that are good for us are burdensome and hard to accept. But then there are those things in His design that are good for us that are plain fun. So it is with a joyful heart.

Charles Spurgeon believed this more than most perhaps. Although he often struggled with the darkness of depression, he believed that “cheerfulness readily carries burdens, which despondency dares not touch.”³ In fact, Spurgeon was known for being hilarious at a time and place in history known for being proper, with one of the chapters in his autobiography titled, “Pure Fun.”⁴ I wonder if there is enough joy in our lives to provide a chapter’s worth of material. There will not be if we have an overinflated sense of self-importance. Let us all remember the benefit God has given to laughter, and welcome all the solid material for amusement in our mistakes, quirks, and limitations.

Laughter is one of the characteristics of this joyful heart that provides good medicine. But it is not the kind of laughter that sneers, scoffs, and derides as it looks down on others. Certainly, this kind of laughter does not characterize joy. But a joyful heart laughs at all that is wholesome and good-natured in the world, appreciating that God “richly provides us with everything to enjoy” (1 Timothy 6:17).

Brothers and sisters, there is “a time to weep, and a time to laugh” (Ecclesiastes 3:4), and I hope you are better equipped now to embrace those occasions of laughter. Consider the happiness of God, the grace of God, and His gift of joy as good medicine for our souls. As you do, you’ll be freed up to laugh at your next blunder, the next adorable baby you see, or your next thought that all mourning will one day be a memory.

Note: This article originally appeared on thecbcd.org. We encourage you to visit The Center for Biblical Counseling and Discipleship where you can find helpful, biblical resources by a number of trusted pastors and authors.

¹ For further explanation, see chapter 1 of John Piper’s book, The Pleasures of God.

² Charles Spurgeon, “Joy, A Duty,” sermon, https://www.spurgeon.org/resource-library/sermons/joy-a-duty/#flipbook/.

³ Charles Spurgeon, “Bells for the Horses,” sermon, http://www.romans45.org/spurgeon/s_and_t/bells.htm

⁴ Michael Reeves, Spurgeon on the Christian Life, 29.

Do you recall that scene in John 21 where Jesus restores Peter to ministry? Peter had denied Jesus three times, and so, Jesus gives him three opportunities to declare that he loves Him. It is a beautiful picture of the mercy that Jesus came to give to all of us who, like Peter, are guilty of denying Christ in many ways. After such kindness shown to Peter, what would you expect his response to be? An unbroken gaze of adoration toward Jesus? Unflinching eagerness to obey Christ in his next decision? Actually, looking over at the other disciples, Peter turns his attention to his friend, John.

Now, it’s no secret that God’s Word instructs us to be others-minded. The second greatest commandment calls for loving your neighbor as yourself (Matthew 22:39). Paul charges us to “count others more significant than [ourselves]” (Philippians 2:3) and to “let each of us please his neighbor for his good” (Romans 15:2). And let’s not forget Jesus’ own definition of greatness: to follow Him in the humility of a servant (Mark 10:43-45). Clearly, our faith does not exalt self to the neglect of others.

But there is a way for us to be others-minded that is a danger to our souls. There is a way for us to think of others with discontentment in our hearts as we compare our lives to theirs. We can be mindful of others in a self-minded manner. If we’re honest, this kind of thinking can drive the time we spend on social media—“How can they afford a house like that?” “I’m glad I don’t have that problem with my kids.” “I can’t believe they got together without me!” “My church wouldn’t ever do anything so shallow.” “It must be nice to have so much free time.”

Such thoughts do not reflect care for the friends or family members you see on your feed, but rather show a desire to feel better about your situation. When the people you see are worse off, your life seems pretty good, and you are temporarily gratified. But when they’re flourishing, your life seems dismal or boring, and you may even feel like you need to make adjustments to improve your situation in a self-oriented way.

Where is Christ in this? We must take care that this self-minded way of thinking of others does not motivate our scrolling and thus distract us from our Savior. In no uncertain terms, Jesus made this principle clear to Peter.

Returning to John 21, we see the glorious scene of Peter’s restoration after denying Christ three times (vv. 15-17). But then Jesus chooses to give Peter an indication of how he will die, followed by the command, “Follow me” (vv. 18-19). Jesus’ words then provoke Peter to turn and ask about John, “Lord, what about this man?” (vv. 20-21). It appears to be an innocent enough question. Peter and John had both worked closely together in service to Jesus after all. But Jesus’ response is instructive for us as we consider self-minded thinking of others. He says, “If it is my will that he remain until I come, what is that to you? You follow me!” (v. 22).

Jesus is essentially telling Peter that John’s future is none of his business. He had just mercifully restored Peter to ministry and commanded him afresh to follow Him, but Peter’s eyes drifted from Jesus to seemingly compare himself to John. This is why Christ must again command him emphatically, “You follow me!”

J. C. Ryle is helpful in recognizing the importance of Jesus’ words here:

“The words ‘Follow me’ should always teach us that our first duty in religion is to look first to our own souls, and to take heed that we ourselves follow Christ, and walk with God. Whatever others may do or not do, suffer or not suffer, our own duty is clear and plain. People who are always looking at others, and considering others, and shaping their own course accordingly commit a great mistake.”¹

In light of this text, we should all take some time to evaluate our use of social media, and our motivations for scrolling through our feeds. Do you need to be confronted with Jesus’ words, “What is that to you? You follow me”? Think of how much good could be done in your life if you turned from a self-minded view of others online and focused your soul on following Jesus from the inside-out. Instead of the fleeting gratification that comes through comparing yourself to others, you will know the joy of Christ as you abide in His love through obeying His commands (John 15:10-11). The former saps your soul of life, the latter fills your soul with life. Will you be consumed by updates or a life of following your Savior?

Note: This article originally appeared on thecbcd.org. We encourage you to visit The Center for Biblical Counseling and Discipleship where you can find helpful, biblical resources by a number of trusted pastors and authors.

¹ J. C. Ryle, Expository Thoughts on the Gospels, John, vol. 3, 340.

In his modern-day classic, Knowing God, J. I. Packer begins the book with a lengthy quote from Charles Spurgeon on the benefits of contemplating God. Over the years since the first time I read this book, the last bit of this quote has stuck with me as a needed reminder: “I know nothing which can so comfort the soul; so calm the swelling billows of grief and sorrow; so speak peace to the winds of trial, as a devout musing upon the subject of the Godhead.”¹

When Spurgeon says, “I know” here, we can be sure that such knowledge comes from experience. Knowing the comfort of meditating on God was not theoretical to our brother. He suffered deeply throughout his life with a downcast spirit, and he desperately sought to embrace the peace that can only be found in the Lord. His words, then, are not just a churchy platitude that you would expect any preacher to utter to his congregation. These are true words tested in the fire of heavy grief.

Knowing this, we would do well to heed his counsel. When grief lingers, do you engage in “a devout musing upon the subject of the Godhead,” or is your musing more devoted to your circumstances or your feelings? Those musings will only increase your sorrow. When we forget God because our gaze is enveloped by the darkness around us and inside us, it is like we have forgotten there is an exit to the cave we feel trapped in. But if we will simply turn around, we will see reminders of God’s attributes as shreds of light seeping into the darkness that will lead us out into the joy and peace of our glorious King. To see this more clearly, consider a story that encouraged Spurgeon, which he recalled from the life of the reformer, Martin Luther:

On one occasion Luther fell so low in spirit that his friends were frightened at what he might say or do. Things were going ill with the great cause, and the Reformer might in his dreadful condition have upset everything. So his friends got him out of the way, saying to themselves, “The man must be alone, his brain is over-worked, he must be quiet.” He rested a bit, and came back, looking as sour and gloomy as ever. Rest and seclusion had not stilled the winds nor lulled the waves. Luther was still in a storm, and judged that the good cause was shipwrecked. He went home, but when he came to the door nobody welcomed him. He entered their best room, and there sat Catherine his wife, all dressed in black, weeping as from a death in the house. By her side lay a mourning cloak, such as ladies wear at funerals. “Ah,” says he, “Kate, what matters now, is the child dead?” She shook her head and said the little ones were alive, but something much worse than that had happened. Luther cried “Oh, what has befallen us? Tell me quick! I am sad enough as it is. Tell me quick!” “Good man,” said she, “Have you not heard? Is it possible that the terrible news has not reached you?” This made the Reformer the more inquisitive and ardent, and he pressed to be immediately told of the cause of sorrow. “Why,” said Kate, “have you not been told that our heavenly Father is dead, and his cause in the world is therefore overturned?” Martin stood and looked at her, and at last burst into such a laugh that he could not possibly contain himself, but cried, “Kate, I read thy riddle, what a fool I am! God is not dead, he ever lives, but I have acted as if he were. Thou hast taught me a good lesson.”²

Luther’s last words here are profound: “God is not dead, he ever lives, but I have acted as if he were.” When our grief lingers, it is often the case that we are forgetting God and acting as if our experience exists in a world where He is not reigning supreme and loving His children with “all things” (Romans 8:28). But why is it that David can say, “I have calmed and quieted my soul”? Is it not because he knew that the presence of God was with him like “a weaned child with its mother” (Psalm 131:2)? Why is it that Jeremiah can say, “I have hope” after uttering a train of lamentations? Is it not because he knew that “the steadfast love of the LORD never ceases” and “his mercies never come to an end” (Lamentations 3:21-22)?

Sometimes we can turn to a gripping novel or an engrossing TV series to run away from reality as we grieve, but when we contemplate the character of God, we are running toward reality as it truly is—a reality lived out under the sovereign rule and compassionate care of the God who sent His only Son to save us. Why would we want to think about our lives in any other way? The billows of sorrow may swell and the winds of trial may sting, but to muse upon the subject of the Godhead will be to know increasing peace and calm.


Note: This article originally appeared on thecbcd.org. We encourage you to visit The Center for Biblical Counseling and Discipleship where you can find helpful, biblical resources by a number of trusted pastors and authors.

¹ This quote originally came from a sermon by Spurgeon titled, “The Immutability of God,” spurgeongems.org.

² This citation comes from the very helpful PhD dissertation by William Brian Albert, titled, “‘When the Wind Blows Cold’: The Spirituality of Suffering and Depression in the Life and Ministry of Charles Spurgeon,” 140-41, https://repository.sbts.edu/bitstream/handle/10392/5059/Albert_sbts_0207D_10302.pdf?sequence=1&isAllowed=y.

I recently jogged a 5K with my family. I know for a lot of guys, that’s merely a warm up, but I’m not one of those guys. From about the halfway point onward, I was struggling, and it was difficult to think about anything else other than the pain radiating from my left knee and my right ankle. We jogged through a park thick with beautiful trees on a delightfully brisk morning in mid-March, but my thoughts were fixated on the ache I felt and my desire to be resting at the finish line. I allowed the pain to draw my attention away from the glory that surrounded me.

Our trials can provoke us to a similar response. When life hurts, we can become so focused on the pain and the desire for it to end that we experience a kind of spiritual tunnel vision. Our gaze is only filled with the problem and getting out of it, so we miss the evidence of God’s goodness that surrounds us. Think with me about David’s words in Psalm 37:25:

I have been young, and now am old,
   yet I have not seen the righteous forsaken
   or his children begging for bread.

He writes these words against the backdrop of the trouble experienced by the righteous at the hands of the wicked. This context helps us to see the importance of David’s observation for suffering Christians. Dale Ralph Davis explains, “I think contemporary servants of Christ can sometimes be rather blind to such crass, physical provisions.… I may be in the pit of despair, but am I, in that despair, at my kitchen table staring down at a bowl of cereal?... I may be at a loss in some dire turmoil, but do I still have a non-leaking roof over my head and a mattress underneath my restless body?”¹

Tunnel vision in our trials keeps us from seeing the grace of “boring” provisions like a mattress or a bowl of cereal. The problem with this is that these provisions are signs pointing us to the Provider. When we don’t see cereal as a gift, then we miss out on an opportunity for our gaze to shift from our trouble to our God. That cereal tells you something about God that will bring you comfort as you see it with eyes of faith: He cares, and He is faithful to give you what you need to serve Him with your life. Your food is a sign that God values you more than the birds of the air (Matthew 6:26). Your clothing is a sign that God values you more than the lilies of the field (Matthew 6:28-30). This is no less true when your life hurts.  

When you are suffering, purposefully take time to look up, down, and around you. What boring provisions do you see? Are you wearing a clean shirt that you pulled out of a closet with a variety of clothing options? Were you able to put gas in the tank of a car that you own? Did you get something to drink simply by walking into the next room of your house? We may think that such things are boring, but that doesn’t mean they’re not deeply important. They are undeserved gifts from the God of the universe whom you call “Father” because He chose to love you eternally in His Son. Don’t let spiritual tunnel vision keep you from recognizing them. They are there to give you hope that the Lord has not stopped loving you in the midst of your trial, and He will provide you what you need to persevere.

¹ Dale Ralph Davis, In the Presence of My Enemies, 210

Note: This article originally appeared on thecbcd.org. We encourage you to visit The Center for Biblical Counseling and Discipleship where you can find helpful, biblical resources by a number of trusted pastors and authors.

Many of us have grown up in our faith being challenged by the lives of those we consider spiritual giants: Jim and Elisabeth Elliot, George Whitefield, William Wilberforce, Amy Carmichael, and David Brainerd. As we hear their stories and read their biographies, they seem tireless in their efforts of faith to demonstrate the character of God and obey the Great Commission. And then there’s the apostle Paul who wrote to the Corinthian church, “I will most gladly spend and be spent for your souls” (2 Corinthians 12:15). In thinking about the sacrifice of these brothers and sisters, it is easy for us to question how much we’re really doing to serve the Lord. Are we just a bunch of spiritual slouches? There’s so much to be done for the kingdom, and here I am trying to get a full night’s rest.

If Paul endured “many a sleepless night” (2 Corinthians 11:27) in his ministry for Christ, what value does sleep really have in the life of a believer? While the Bible does warn against laziness, pointing to the folly of the sluggard who turns on his bed like a door on its hinges (Proverbs 26:14), this should not keep believers from seeing sleep as an act of faith.

To recognize this truth, consider that God created us to need sleep. We are finite beings who can’t keep going without rest… and frequent rest, to be sure. Denying ourselves sleep very quickly takes a toll on our minds and bodies. This is by design. God “does not faint or grow weary” (Isaiah 40:28), but He made us to return to our pillows often. In fact, the Bible speaks of sleep by using gift language: “[God] gives to his beloved sleep” (Psalm 127:2, emphasis mine). God is not like a grumpy boss who begrudgingly allows you to take vacation days because it’s corporate policy. Sleep is His idea, and He kindly grants it to those He loves.

Furthermore, as we consider the context of Psalm 127, we see that sleep is more than a need, it’s a choice to trust in the Lord. Here are verses 1 and 2 in their entirety:

Unless the Lord builds the house,
   those who build it labor in vain.
Unless the Lord watches over the city,
   the watchman stays awake in vain.
It is in vain that you rise up early
   and go late to rest,
eating the bread of anxious toil;
   for he gives to his beloved sleep
(emphasis mine).

As God’s people, we are called to work, but we don’t trust in our work. As we work, we trust in our sovereign God who superintends everything. That is why there are regular intervals where our work must stop as we lie down to sleep. In receiving the gift of slumber, we are yielding ourselves up to the reality that God is in control and He will accomplish all of His good purpose.

This is highly practical for us as we are tempted to agonize over things like how we’re going to pay for that big repair or find the time to juggle all our responsibilities. In our flesh, we reject God’s good gift of sleep in order to feverishly find a solution or work until the to-do list is complete. When we do this, what or who are we trusting? Is it our own “anxious toil” or the God who “builds the house” and “watches over the city”? Sometimes the most faithful thing you can do is set aside what is unfinished and close your eyes to sleep, trusting in God to work while you can’t.

We can also see the faith of sleep in response to fearful circumstances that, humanly speaking, should keep anyone tossing and turning. In Psalm 3, David is writing truth against the backdrop of fleeing from his son, Absalom. He is, certainly, encountering physical danger, but imagine the emotional turmoil he must also be experiencing, knowing that the danger is coming from his own child. Given such traumatic conditions, what is David’s reaction? He embraces the truth that God is his “shield” and “the lifter of [his] head,” and this faith allows him to sleep. In vv. 5-6, David declares, “I lay down and slept; I woke again, for the LORD sustained me. I will not be afraid of many thousands of people who have set themselves against me all around.”

David is running for his life, and yet he is choosing to put himself in the most vulnerable of positions: sleep. When we are asleep, we are not on the alert against potential threats. We are not on the defense or poised to attack. We are laying down with our eyes closed, and our mental faculties are unengaged with our surroundings. Sleep is a risk. You can’t count on you when you’re sleeping. Sleep requires that we trust God to be our defender. And when we do, God gives us a sense of calm in our hearts. In another psalm, David makes this clear: “In peace I will both lie down and sleep; for you alone, O LORD, make me to dwell in safety” (Psalm 4:8, emphasis mine).

When it seems like work needs to be done or danger is right around the corner, sleep may seem irresponsible or foolish to some. But a life of faith has never made sense to those who don’t know God. It is true that faith does, oftentimes, require the strain and the striving of the spiritual giants we look up to. But, at other times, faith requires the boring and weak choice of sleep, allowing God to be glorified as the One who toils and protects


Note: This article originally appeared on thecbcd.org. We encourage you to visit The Center for Biblical Counseling and Discipleship where you can find helpful, biblical resources by a number of trusted pastors and authors.

When I was a boy, I remember times when I would walk into the room to find my mom watching another sad movie. These movies usually included the death of a main character as a major plot point with a lot of strong emotions on display as the characters sought to respond to their tragic circumstances. I’m sure you can imagine that, as a kid, I didn’t stay in the room very long when I saw what was on the screen. “Why does Mom want to do this to herself?”

I didn’t want to voluntarily make myself feel sorrow. That didn’t make a lot of sense to me.

Perhaps that’s the way you feel when you get to Psalm 88 in your Bible reading. It’s a deeply sad portion of Scripture, and you may be tempted to move on rather quickly. In fact, while there are other psalms of lament, this one is different. While David says in Psalm 13, “How long, O LORD? Will you forget me forever?” (v. 1), he ends with, “I will sing to the LORD, because he has dealt bountifully with me” (v. 6). And while Psalm 42 says, “My tears have been my food day and night” (v. 3), it ends with the psalmist commanding his soul, “Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my salvation and my God” (v. 11).

Psalm 88, however, has no resolution at the end. Throughout the psalm, Heman (the author), writes things such as, “My soul is full of troubles” (v. 3), “I am a man who has no strength” (v. 4), “Your wrath is heavy upon me” (v. 7), and “I suffer your terrors” (v. 15). But unlike Psalm 13 and 42, Psalm 88 ends with Heman saying, “You have caused my beloved and my friend to shun me; my companions have become darkness” (v. 18). And that’s it… That’s the last verse. This is the only psalm without an obvious note of hope.

Heman feels that his soul is submerged in agony, and it isn’t letting up. But just because there isn’t an obvious note of hope in this psalm doesn’t mean that it’s not hopeful. Here are three reasons why you should be grateful that Psalm 88 is in your Bible.

First, it reminds us that we can trust God’s Word. Psalm 88 is honest about life, thus conveying that Scripture does not dance around the hard realities of our existence in a fallen world. For God’s people there is such a thing as the dark night of the soul. When we are experiencing inner turmoil, we don’t always get to a settled place at the speed of a 1980s family sitcom. Seeing that this psalm doesn’t end with a neatly packaged solution tells us that God’s Word is raw at times, which means that Scripture relates to you.

You may think that other Christians seem fake, always so put together on Sunday mornings. Well, that may be true of us at times, but that’s never true of God’s Word. In Scripture, God is candid about our weakness, our sin, our need, and our suffering. He never puts on a front, but always tells it like it is perfectly.

This becomes highly practical for those times when you feel ashamed that your soul is in such anguish and it seems like you’ll never know peace again. Or when it feels as if no one is struggling like you are, and no one understands the depth of your grief. In those seasons, you can open up to Psalm 88 and be reminded that God is not surprised by your angst, and He hasn’t left you to suffer alone. Then, with this truth in mind, Psalm 88 becomes a catalyst that launches you into other parts of the Bible with the confidence that God can be trusted.

Second, Psalm 88 reminds us where to take our grief, even when the grief remains. This psalm may not resolve at the end, but Heman instructs us to keep seeking the Lord while the pain keeps enduring. Throughout these 18 verses, Heman stops along the way to express His Godward focus:

Verses 1-2
O LORD, God of my salvation,
     I cry out day and night before you.
Let my prayer come before you;
     incline your ear to my cry!

Verse 9
Every day I call upon you, O LORD;
     I spread out my hands to you.

Verse 13
But I, O LORD, cry to you;
     in the morning my prayer comes before you.

It’s important to note that Heman is not getting what he desires from God, but he continues to cry out to God. He knows God is the one he needs, so he refuses to look elsewhere for relief, even though he continues to suffer. Dane Ortlund observes, “The very fact that the psalmist sat down and wrote out this prayer to God signifies a fundamental trust in the Lord and in his goodness.”¹ Heman has a similar posture to Peter, after Jesus asked, “Do you want to go away as well?” His answer: “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life” (John 6:67-68).

Whatever darkness you may be experiencing within, no matter how torturous it may feel, let Psalm 88 exhort you. Don’t “deconstruct.” Don’t “quiet-quit” the faith. Instead, take all the tangled mess of your hurt and feelings of abandonment to God. Cry out to Him and don’t stop. It may not seem like it, but this is an act of faith. And ultimately, God is the one you need, not the answer to your desperate pleas.

Finally, Psalm 88 reminds us of the gospel. Wait… what? How does a psalm without a resolution remind us of the gospel? Well, because Jesus too experienced anguish of the soul as He prayed to His Father. But His anguish found its fulfillment in the absorption of God’s wrath for our sin. The Father did not let the cup pass from His Son (Matthew 26:39), so that those who trust in Christ will be forgiven of every sin and spend eternity with Him in blissful fellowship. Believers will never know the anguish Christ knew, because He felt it in our place. When you experience a dark night of the soul, take some time to meditate on the reality that your agony is miniscule compared to Christ’s. This is not to belittle your suffering, but to give you the hope of perspective, and encourage you to praise your Savior. Because Jesus felt the anguish of the cross, your lesser anguish is only temporary, as you look forward to glory.

As depressing as it may seem at first glance, are you grateful that God breathed out Psalm 88? It probably doesn’t include your life verse and it probably won’t be read as the call to worship at your church this Sunday. But, in the wisdom of God, this psalm is there for you when it feels like the grief will never end.

¹ Article on Psalm 88 from The ESV Devotional Psalter, esv.org

Note: This article originally appeared on thecbcd.org. We encourage you to visit The Center for Biblical Counseling and Discipleship where you can find helpful, biblical resources by a number of trusted pastors and authors.

If you have engaged in the habit of Scripture memory, then most of your attention has probably been on working through one or two verses at a time from a variety of places in God’s Word. One week you may be working on Ephesians 2:8-9, and the next has you focusing on Proverbs 3:5-6. Not only are most of the Scripture memory systems set up this way, but this approach is helpful for those moments when temptation approaches. Those moments can come in the most inconvenient of circumstances, the kind of circumstances where it’s hard to dedicate a lot of time and mental energy to rehearsing God’s truth. So, a short verse or two can be perfect for redirecting our minds when the pressure is on.

However, there is great value in taking these snippets of Scripture and becoming acquainted with their context. This is true, of course, so that we interpret them correctly, but also because there is often a significant practical impact in seeing what comes before and after these texts. For instance, consider how much more hope we receive when we look at the context of these three well-known snippets of Scripture.

Lamentations 3:22-23
“The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases;
his mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.”

You have likely sung these words, or perhaps, you have them in a frame hanging on a wall somewhere in your house. You may have also texted these verses to a brother or sister who is struggling through a difficult season of life. This has definitely been a “go-to” text for me in ministering to those who are hurting. When we are discouraged, we need to grab hold of rock-solid truth about God’s character to comfort us. These verses are powerful.

But the previous verse indicates that we should look further back in the chapter to understand things more clearly. Verse 21 is a contrast to what comes directly before it: “But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope.” In the verses preceding verse 21, it is clear that Jeremiah, the author, did not have hope. In fact, his words sound downright dark as he grieves over God’s judgment on Judah. Even a small sampling reveals this clearly: “He has made my flesh and skin waste away; he has broken my bones” (v. 4); “he is a bear lying in wait for me, a lion in hiding” (v. 10); “he has filled me with bitterness; he has sated me with wormwood” (v. 15); “my soul is bereft of peace; I have forgotten what happiness is” (v. 17).

What a difference there is between these verses and those that follow verse 21! As you read verses 1-20 in Lamentations 3, you don’t expect verses 22-23… but there they are. This chapter shows us that when darkness seems all-consuming, the Spirit can use His Word to bring the light of hope. You don’t see this unless you give attention to context.

Psalm 73:25-26
“Whom have I in heaven but you?
And there is nothing on earth that I desire besides you.
My flesh and my heart may fail,
but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.”

We have here another set of familiar verses that are often quoted in sermons or devotional material. They have rightly been used to point to God as our superior delight, whether on earth or in heaven. We would all agree, I’m sure, that reading these verses by themselves is truly enriching. But again, their context draws out the power of these words to minister to the struggling soul.

These verses were chosen for the end of Psalm 73, and in the previous verses Asaph is clear about where he came from to get to this place. In verse 2, he tells us that his “steps had nearly slipped,” and in verse 3 he tells us why: “For I was envious of the arrogant when I saw the prosperity of the wicked.” Asaph’s heart had grown hard as he looked upon the comfort and ease of those who openly embraced immorality. In fact, it had gotten so bad that, as he looked at his own pursuit of holiness, he determined it was a waste, since his life was so hard (vv. 13-14).

But then, God revealed to Asaph the bitter end that the wicked are sliding toward, and he repented. He saw his sin for what it was and said to God, “When my soul was embittered, when I was pricked in heart, I was brutish and ignorant; I was like a beast toward you” (vv. 21-22). All of this precedes Asaph’s glorious declaration in verses 25-26. Divine grace turned him around so that he saw God as his true treasure instead of the empty prosperity of this temporal life. Imagine the hope this provides to those who are caught up in sin. They are not too far gone. God can bring them from “I was like a beast toward you” to “There is nothing on earth I desire besides you”!

Psalm 16:11
“You make known to me the path of life;
in your presence there is fullness of joy;
at your right hand are pleasures forevermore.”

This is a verse that has been dear to me since my early days as a Christian in college, and I have assigned it for memorization loads of times in discipleship and counseling. It clearly serves to remind us where we are to seek pleasure. If we follow our sinful choices back to their root within our hearts, we will find that, on some level, we were seeking joy outside of God. This verse points us back to God in whom there is no lack of eternal joy.

But earlier in the context of Psalm 16, David shows us the flipside of this truth. In verse 4, he writes, “The sorrows of those who run after another god shall multiply.” The context of verse 11 exposes the ugly truth about what happens when we chase after something else in the place of God. Writing about this verse, Charles Spurgeon says, “When we have given our heart to idols, sooner or later we have had to smart for it. Near the roots of our self-love all our sorrows lie.”¹ As we pay attention to the context of this important verse, we are given even more reason to turn our feet to God for satisfaction. Anything else we exalt to the place of God will not give us the pleasure it promises. In the end, our idols will be shown as liars, and we will know it because of the sorrow that surrounds us because of them.

Brothers and sisters, we don’t need to stop memorizing select verses throughout Scripture. The texts above stand as a call for us not to abandon the internalization of such verses, but to remember the practical impact of recognizing that those verses are not in isolation. Yes, an awareness of context helps us interpret Scripture correctly, and it also helps us apply it more powerfully

Note: This article originally appeared on thecbcd.org. We encourage you to visit the Center for Biblical Counseling and Discipleship where you can find helpful, biblical resources by a number of trusted pastors and authors.

Years ago, when I was a younger man in ministry, I first heard Martin Luther’s famous quote on prayer: “I have so much to do today that I shall spend the first three hours in prayer.”¹ Since then, I have heard some version of this statement numerous times… and if I’m being honest, it has led to a sense of guilt at my own prayer life. Perhaps, like me, you have felt the heaviness of shame at hearing of someone else’s habits of faithful prayer. Maybe on a busy day, you feel like you’re doing good to say “thank you” to the Lord before shoving a hoagie down your gullet as you rush off to your next meeting. That seems like a world away from Luther’s three-hour stint in the prayer closet. So, what should we think about such a gap? What are we to do with the burden we feel for not spending a longer amount of time in prayer?

First, it may be that there are some things that you need to cut out of your schedule so that you can spend more time in prayer. Longer and planned periods of prayer are a blessed resolution for God’s people. Indeed, one in which we would do well to grow. So ask God to reveal any “grievous way” (Psalm 139:23-24) in your prayer life that is keeping you from drawing near to Him in longer durations, and repent by His grace. After this, however, I want to give you some perspective that I hope will provide balance and refreshment to your prayer life, and help you see that prayer is not always what we first imagine when someone mentions the topic.

Consider how your prayer life would be impacted by seeing prayer as a component of your ongoing communion with God, interspersed throughout your daily activities. Charles Spurgeon is reported to have practiced prayer in this way. In his biography of Spurgeon, Arnold Dallimore writes, “Spurgeon was ever a man of prayer. Not that he spent any long periods of time in prayer, but he lived in the spirit of communion with God.”² Dallimore illustrates this by telling of an occasion when Spurgeon was enjoying a cheerful walk with a friend and naturally extended an invitation for them to pray: “Come, Theodore, let us thank God for laughter.”³ Another similar instance with an acquaintance led Spurgeon’s companion to say, “The prayer was no parenthesis interjected. It was something that belonged as much to the habit of his mind as breathing did to the habit of his body.”⁴

Certainly, we would say that Spurgeon was one committed to praying “without ceasing” (1 Thessalonians 5:17), but it was because he was committed to living his life in relationship to God. Whether walking with a friend or stepping into the pulpit to preach, he lived before the face of the God whom he needed and treasured. The same was true of Nehemiah while he was still in the service of King Artaxerxes of Persia. As Nehemiah was seeking the king’s permission to return to Judah, the king asked him what he was requesting, and Nehemiah responded, “So I prayed to the God of heaven” (Nehemiah 2:4). His prayer was uttered in the middle of a conversation… before he even answered the king. For Nehemiah, prayers were to be expressed anytime and anywhere, even in the midst of an urgent, personal exchange.

This practice makes perfect sense when you consider that Christ has secured for us confident access to God the Father, so that we can always draw near to His throne of grace in prayer (Ephesians 3:12; Hebrews 4:16). Plus, everywhere we go, we encounter reminders of our need for God and evidence of the grace He has poured out on us in Christ. This means that as we move throughout the minutes and hours of our day, we are constantly encountering reasons to offer supplications and thanksgivings to God. With this in mind, let us embrace prayer as a habit to permeate our lives. We can accept that long chunks of prayer are not the only way to stay intimately connected to God. Michael Reeves further explains the benefit of this thinking when he says,

“We don’t need to ‘fit’ God into each day, that is to see our prayer life as something different from the rest of life. In fact, the danger arises precisely when you do think your prayer life is something separate.… When you know that each day is already all God’s and that we have fellowship with him all the time, then prayer suffuses the whole day more naturally. Then you find yourself intuitively praying through the day more, and without feeling the need to be hyper-spiritual and concentrated the whole time. For me, very often it’s unclear whether I am praying at a particular moment or working; it is both at the same time.”⁵

Reeves is not suggesting that there shouldn’t be planned times of prayer in our lives, but rather, that prayer does not have to be monk-like, shut away in quiet seclusion, in order to be pleasing to God. In fact, prayer that “suffuses the whole day” takes very seriously the reality that all of life is about God and, therefore, should be lived in relationship to Him.

This perspective on prayer is not to be used to excuse the way many of us have trained ourselves to be distracted with devices and social media feeds, but I hope it does point us to a more vibrant prayer life that is not boxed into one corner of our day, even if it is for three hours. There is a variety to prayer that should keep us from frequent bouts with guilt over whether we have prayed long enough.


Note: This article originally appeared on thecbcd.org. We encourage you to visit the Center for Biblical Counseling and Discipleship where you can find helpful, biblical resources by a number of trusted pastors and authors.

¹ Nick Aufenkamp, “A Simple Way to Pray Every Day,” Desiring God, February 6, 2017, https://www.desiringgod.org/articles/a-simple-way-to-pray-every-day.
² Arnold Dallimore, Spurgeon: A Biography, 178.
³ Ibid.
⁴ Ibid.
⁵ Michael Reeves, Enjoy Your Prayer Life, 29-30.

“You do not have to fight this ba2le. Posi6on yourselves, stand s6ll, and see the salva6on of the Lord. He  is with you, Judah and Jerusalem. Do not be afraid or discouraged. Tomorrow, go out to face them, for the  Lord is with you.”
~ 2 Chronicles 20:17 CSB

King Jehoshaphat sought the Lord. When his reign is introduced in 2 Chronicles 17, this is one of the  first things we are told—he did not seek the false gods, but he sought the Lord. Jehoshaphat wanted to  know God and to obey him, to follow in God’s ways all his life.  

When King Ahab asked for an alliance in battle, Jehoshaphat agreed—but he said, “First, please ask  what the LORD’s will is” (2 Chronicles 18:4). The Hebrew word translated “ask” (dāraš) means to seek  with care or to enquire. When he established judges in the cities, Jehoshaphat warned them to do their  work for the Lord and to be aware of God’s watching eye and holy character as they passed judgment.

“Consider what you do, for you judge not for man but for the LORD. He is with you in giving judgment.  Now then, let the fear of the LORD be upon you. Be careful what you do, for there is no injus6ce with the  LORD our God, or par6ality or taking bribes.”
~ 2 Chronicles 19:6-7 ESV

Perhaps the greatest test of Jehoshaphat’s faith comes in 2 Chronicles 20. Multiple enemy nations  gather together to fight Judah—a vast number of soldiers. How does he respond? The text bluntly says,  “Jehoshaphat was afraid.” But that’s not all. Once again, consistent with his lifelong practice, he resolved  to seek the Lord, and he called the rest of the nation to join him (v3-4). The king prays to God,  rehearsing the character of God and his past faithfulness. Jehoshaphat brings their situation before  God and asks for deliverance. He concludes:

“We are powerless before this vast number that comes to fight against us. We do not know what to do,  but we look to you.”
~ 2 Chronicles 20:12 CSB

You won’t find a better example of what to do when you are overwhelmed and overmatched by life.  Jehoshaphat doesn’t spend hours exhausting every possibility with his military advisors. He doesn’t  send an envoy to an allied nation asking for aid. He doesn’t send negotiators to seek terms of peace. He  brings his problems to God, admits his helplessness, and fixes his eyes upon God.

In the following verses, God responds in gracious faithfulness. A prophet speaks out assurance to the  people, promising salvation from the Lord. They are not alone—God is with them in this difficulty. And  having sought God, knowing God is with them, the prophet calls Jehoshaphat and the people to set  aside their fear and to face their trouble.

“...He is with you, Judah and Jerusalem. Do not be afraid or discouraged. Tomorrow, go out to face them,
for the Lord is with you.”
~ 2 Chronicles 20:17 CSB

We all encounter trouble in life—enemy armies that camp against us, eager to destroy us. Your army  might be a shocking diagnosis or a staggering loss. It could be a betrayal or a wreck or a hospital bill.  Whatever it is, seek the Lord. Draw near to him, to know him and to walk in his ways. Remember his  character, and throw yourself on his mercy.

In this story, God provides a miraculous deliverance. The enemy nations fight amongst themselves and  are destroyed without Judah needing to swing a sword. That doesn’t mean God will always deliver us in  the same way. Sometimes the way of escape is simply that God enables us to endure it (1 Corinthians  10:13). Whether he takes away the pain or loss or sorrow, he will be with us.

And when we know that, we can face anything.

“For from him and through him and to him are all things.”
~ Romans 11:36

This small verse and its three tiny phrases have powerful implications for all of life, including our work. Each phrase is a lens, a perspective we can use to better understand “all things.” When we look at our work through each of these lenses, we will be encouraged, empowered, and oriented in all our efforts.

From him
God’s sovereignty reminds us that our work is no accident. Where we live, the company we work for, and the job we do at that company were all determined by God’s gracious providence (Acts 17:24–26). On top of that, God also controls the individual tasks assigned to us each day and the interruptions or emergencies that invade.

Joseph is an excellent example of God’s sovereignty over our work. God placed Jospeh in Potiphar’s house and blessed his work until he managed the entire estate. Then God imprisoned Joseph, and he worked like a slave for years. Finally God elevated him to the peak of Egyptian government, at the right hand of the Pharaoh.

Whether or not this reality is comforting will depend on our view of God’s character. If we know him to be wise, gracious, merciful, and loving, God’s control can change our perspective on even the most difficult work assignment.

But knowing God is in control is not enough. We must submit to God’s rule and receive his portion for us in faith. We need to believe God’s goodness in whatever circumstances we face, and then we need to act faithfully in those circumstances—with righteous character and humble dependence on his grace.

Receiving our work as “from God” doesn’t mean we cannot look for a new job (1 Corinthians 7:21). God sends all kinds of circumstances, and we are meant to respond in different ways to each. We receive health from God in gratitude, but we also embrace it and use it. We receive sickness from God as well, but we don’t need to embrace it (James 5:14)—a faithful response can include going to the doctor or taking medication.

Through him
The fact that our work is “through God” comforts us in two ways. First, that every sacrifice of praise we make in our work does not stand on its own merits—it is presented to the Father through Christ, perfected by his life and death for us. And secondly, we do not labor or achieve success in our own strength; rather, it is by God’s grace at work in us that we are enabled to labor well and succeed in any measure.

Throughout the Bible, God’s grace is apportioned to individual people, empowering them to carry out the work he has called them to do. After giving Moses instructions to build the tabernacle and its instruments, God appoints craftsmen to do the work. Not only does he assign them the work, but he also enables them to do it, granting them the skills they require (Exodus 31:1–11).

Jesus illustrates this in his parable of the talents, as each servant is given a different number of talents—representing the unique skills and opportunities God gives each of us (Matthew 25:14–30. But these talents have a purpose: they are to be invested according to the will of the master. Peter says we have each received a unique gift of grace from God with which to serve others (1 Peter 4:10–11). We should use our gift as though God’s grace were channeled through us to the people we serve—which in fact is exactly what is happening.

It is all grace: our intelligence, our skill, our determination (1 Corinthians 4:7). No one worked harder in the early church than Paul, yet he gives ultimate credit for those efforts to God’s grace (1 Corinthians 15:10). We might view these qualities as the ingredients of success; without them, it is harder than baking a cake without eggs and flour. But even if we have all the ingredients, our success is not ensured. We still need God’s grace to give success, just as guards have no hope of protecting the city unless God blesses their efforts (Psalms 127:1–2).

Jesus puts the nail in the coffin by describing us as branches in John 15. Bearing fruit is impossible for any branch that does not stay connected to the vine. Success comes through abiding in Christ, staying close and connected to him. Apart from him, we can do nothing (John 15:5). Oh we can run around like crazy people and speak lots of words. We are capable of lots of activity—but on our own it will all amount to nothing.

To him
Finally, faithful work should be directed to God. Everything exists for the glory of God—he manifests his goodness and might in creation and redemption. God shows himself to be stunningly beautiful, so that we might be drawn toward his beauty, for our joy and satisfaction and his eternal praise. And the work that we do each day, each week, does not function outside this grand framework. If we do mundane things like eating and drinking to the glory of God (1 Corinthians 10:31), then God’s glory should also be the ultimate purpose of our labor.

The first way in which we glorify God in our work is by our dependent participation. Since we can do nothing apart from Christ, we must depend fully on him to do our work. When God provides the strength for our service, God gets the glory (1 Peter 4:11b).

But God doesn’t strengthen us so we can run around doing whatever we desire. God isn’t a heavenly venture capitalist, scanning the earth for humans with good ideas so he can fund their enterprise. We join God in his work, participating in the good he does in the world. That is why Peter calls us to speak like prophets (1 Peter 4:11a)—so that we will submit our purposes to his and allow his truth to govern our words.

The fact that our work is “to him” also reminds us to see God as the ultimate recipient of our work. Paul makes it clear in 1 Corinthians 7 that we all serve Christ, regardless of our circumstances (v21–23). Even as we seek to work well for the sake of our employer, our ultimate aim should be to please the Lord (Ephesians 6:5–8).

All things
So then, wherever you have been called to work, receive it from the hand of God. Whatever you have been called to do today, see it as an assignment from Christ. However your attempts go, trust that God is directing the results. Trust God to supply you with everything you need to do his will. Believe that your best efforts, done by faith, are fully pleasing to the Father because of Jesus' perfect life. And in every task you undertake, whether small or massive, see it as a way to serve and glorify your Master by serving the people around you.

Psalm 100:2 encourages us to “serve the Lord with gladness” and Ecclesiastes 3:22 says to rejoice in our work. How do we get there? And how does our joy at work connect to God’s joy?

God hates dishonest scales (Proverbs 11:1), which would have been used in the market to cheat customers out of the full measure of grain or seed they deserved. On the flip side, God delights in weights that are accurate. This shouldn’t be surprising—after all, he is called “God of truth” several times (Psalm 31:5; Isaiah 65:16). But this passage is more than just an expression of God’s commitment to truth.

God’s delight (or displeasure) in the scales used represents his feelings toward those who use them. God’s anger is really for the dishonest vendor who uses rigged scales to cheat people, not the scales themselves; but God takes pleasure in those who maintain accurate scales in order to treat people fairly. This reaffirms Psalm 37:23, which tells us that God delights in the path of a righteous person. God is pleased when our work is an expression of our faith—when we trust his provision rather than trusting in our own schemes, when we seek to live in a way consistent with his character.

Work that fully pleases God must be done by faith. Part of that faith includes our orientation as we work. We should seek to please our employers (Titus 2:9); but even more importantly, our aim should be to serve and please our Lord Jesus (Ephesians 6:5–8). When we are submitted to Christ and seeking to honor him in our work, we can be confident that he is glorified and pleased—even in the most mundane tasks (1 Corinthians 10:31).

Of course, if we are not working in a way that pleases God, we should repent and ask God for help to change. If we don’t delight in our work, odds are we aren’t serving Christ through faith. But if you show up at work aware of your need for Jesus, eager to please him and benefit others, trusting in his grace—if you work in that attitude, God is delighted by your work. And if God is delighted, you should be too.

What story do you tell yourself about work? What story are the people around you telling about work? Does your work matter? If so, why?

For some, work is just a necessary evil to be endured. Retirement is their dream, when they can do whatever they want and just enjoy life. But only the very fortunate are actually happy and fulfilled by their work.

For others, work is a a core part of who they are. If they don’t have their ideal job yet, they are either chasing it, day dreaming about it, or depressed by it.

Each of these common stories is imbalanced. They contain elements of truth, but distorted or over-emphasized.

The creation story in Genesis 1–2 gives us a better story about our work—a true story. It avoids the pitfalls of attributing too much significance or too little significance to our work. Genesis 1–2 takes us back to the beginning, for work and also for humanity itself.

After all, how can we put the meaning of work in perspective without understanding the meaning of life?

First, notice the difference between the purpose given to birds and the purpose given to humanity. God gives birds and sea creatures a simple job: be fruitful, multiply, and fill the earth. When God creates humanity, he repeats this same mandate. But he goes further, adding a command to subdue and rule the earth (Genesis 1:28). Cultivating and caring for creation is a mark of humanity that sets us apart from the birds and the beasts.

This responsibility and authority is not arbitrary—God places humanity in charge precisely because he made humanity in his image. While God’s character can be glimpsed in everything he has made, men and women represent God in a unique way, the way sons and daughters resemble their father. We show ourselves to be image-bearers when we operate in the role God has given us, and work is one of the most important ways we do that.

“Work has dignity because it is something that Goes does and because we do it in God’s place, as his representatives.”~ Timothy Keller (Every Good Endeavor)

Even menial, manual labor is a way to bear God’s image. God makes this connection explicit, because the same Hebrew words used for ordinary, human work are used throughout Genesis 1–2 to describe the work of God—Asah: to make (1:7); Bara’: to create (1:21); Melakah: work (2:2). Furthermore, we see God plant a garden in the Old Testament (Genesis 2:8) and work as a craftsman in the New Testament (Mark 6:3). So farmers or sanitation workers bear God’s image in their work just as much as preachers and CEOs.

This is the better story about our work. We have been called to labor mentally, physically, and emotionally for the good of creation. Our work is meant to bring about greater flourishing for plants, pets, and especially people. And as we do all of this, we represent God in the world, which glorifies him. All of this gives work incredible value and significance.

At the same time, this story about work should also practically shape our work. While most jobs contribute to the greater good in some way, there are exceptions. Some jobs are destructive, immoral, or exploitative—which is opposed to the purpose God gave our work. In rare cases the job is inherently wrong, like prostitution or drug dealing. More often, the problem lies in the common practices of your company or industry, like apps and social media companies harvesting user data and selling it to the highest bidder. If you find yourself in such a career, it is time to reconnect your work with its true story—which probably means find a new job.

Connecting our work to God’s image and presence also teaches us how to work. Selfish work does not represent God well. Mediocre or lazy work does not represent God well. Our work should be diligent, selfless, excellent, and honest because that is what God is like. Exploiting the poor with promises of get rich quick by gambling is ungodly. Taking credit for the work of others to earn a promotion is ungodly. Making customers jump through hoops to return an unsatisfactory product to improve the bottom line is ungodly.

Wherever you are, whatever work God has given you to do, be encouraged. Your work is a tremendous opportunity. God has given you the privilege and the responsibility of working as his representative.

Work heartily. Work creatively. Work with honor and wisdom. Work in such a way as to bring good to the world and to bring glory to God.