Connecting the Gospel Dots
I stood at the back of the church, trying to process what I had just heard. For forty-five minutes, the speaker talked about Noah and the ark, quoting obscure historical facts, detailing ancient shipbuilding techniques, and even providing mathematical calculations for how many animals could fit in each compartment.
What he never mentioned? Sin. Judgment. Salvation. God's mercy. Not once.
The congregation filed out with polite smiles and murmured "good message" comments, but I noticed the confusion in their eyes. They had received information without application, facts without faith direction.
I am continually baffled and frustrated by what passes for preaching these days. It seems many preachers are so afraid of offending others that they dance around the truth and never present the whole gospel.
When Plans Go Pear-Shaped
Have you ever had one of those days where Murphy's Law isn't just a saying but your personal reality? Jason and I experienced that miserable phenomenon this week. It began with my writing. Every task I attempted was met with utter frustration. What should have taken a couple of minutes ended up taking over an hour. It seemed like no matter which way I turned, I encountered a stumbling block or a brick wall. Seriously?
When we finally surrendered to the technological gremlins and decided to take our daily walk with Tess, the Welsh weather joined the conspiracy. The moment we stepped outside, the clouds unleashed what felt like the entire Irish Sea upon our heads. Lovely!
"It's just a light drizzle," Jason said optimistically as we trudged along, our clothes growing heavier with each step. By the time we made it home, we resembled three drowned rats (though Tess, admittedly, looked the most pitiful).
A Tale of Two Mountains
Have you ever noticed how many mountains appear in the Bible? Jason and I have spent many days hiking through the Welsh countryside, puffing up hillsides with our little dog Tess, and I can't help but think about those biblical peaks. Two mountains in particular stand out in Scripture: Sinai and Zion. And they couldn't be more different from each other.
On the whole, Mount Sinai was a place of terror. Smoke billowing into the sky, the ground quaking beneath your feet, and trumpets blasting so loudly that you cover your ears. The Israelites were told not to even touch the mountain lest they die! Moses alone could approach, and even he trembled with fear.
"And so terrible was the sight, that Moses said, I exceedingly fear and quake." (Hebrews 12:21)
Empty, But Not Really
Have you ever had one of those days when it feels like everyone is out to get you? I call them "Joseph days." You know, those days when your own siblings seem to be plotting your demise, stripping away your beautiful coat, and tossing you into a pit with no escape plan. Just me? Perhaps I’m being a bit dramatic, but I think we've all experienced our own version of Joseph's story.
Genesis 37 tells us that Joseph's brothers "took him, and cast him into a pit: and the pit was empty, there was no water in it" (verse 24). I've always found that description fascinating. The Bible specifically notes the emptiness of the pit. It was void, barren, and desolate…except for Joseph and God.
I wonder what Joseph thought as he sat in that dark hole. Did he cry out? Did he pound against the earthen walls?
When Judgment Clouds Our Vision
Have you ever been quick to judge someone, only to later discover a whole backstory you never knew? I've been guilty of this too often. This tendency of the human heart recently hit me afresh when I re-examined the story of Moses striking the rock at Kadesh.
Like many believers, I've often viewed this account through a simplistic lens. God said, "Speak to the rock," but Moses struck it instead, and punishment ensued. An open-and-shut case of disobedience, right?
However, as I dug a little deeper into the passage this morning, something was revealed. Standing once again at Kadesh after forty years of wilderness wandering, Moses wasn't merely facing another water crisis; he was standing at the epicenter of Israel's greatest failure.
Imagine what must have raced through Moses' 120-year-old mind. Here he was, back at the scene of the crime, so to speak.