First of all, Stacey, I’d like to thank you for letting me visit today.
What’s one thing all mankind seeks? Freedom.
Several years ago, my husband and I began attending a large church not too far from us. Over the years we’d heard people talk about the inspiring sermons the pastor there would preach. I’d come to work on Monday morning, and several of my co-workers would be discussing the Sunday sermon delivered by their pastor, Buddy Hoffman. So when the time came for us to change churches, we knew exactly where we wanted to go.
Buddy was unlike any pastor I had ever heard. He had a folksy manner, and he loved tripping all over the English language. Once he told us about his recent mission trip to Asia where he saw Kubotas (i.e. pagodas) dotting the landscape. All I could picture was a hill covered with riding mowers and tractors.
One Sunday morning, he was preaching about forgiveness. Ten years later, I don’t remember the scriptures he chose or the major points of the sermon. I remember only one statement he made. “Unforgiveness is a prison.” My English-major self tensed, knowing unforgiveness wasn’t even a word. It was what my husband and I called a Buddy-ism. But it didn’t matter that it wasn’t listed in the dictionary, that spell-check would underline it. That brief statement carried a depth of meaning that entire books might not.
It’s not easy
I truly believe one of the hardest things God asks us, as Christians, to do is to forgive. Anyone who’s ever parented children knows forgiveness doesn’t come naturally. It’s often easy to forgive the penitent, but forgiving someone who’s not sorry, who doesn’t care? That can be tough. It’s sometimes easier to push the wrong aside. Try to forget it and go on with life. But forgiveness is active. It’s not enough to simply push the wrong way down into your heart rather than dealing with it.
As humans, we often seek justice instead of grace. If someone has hurt us, our carnal selves can want them to be hurt––to feel the pain we felt. And the unwillingness to forgive becomes a prison. True freedom is found in only one place.
Bear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone. Forgive as the Lord forgave you.
Colossians 3:13
You, my brothers and sisters, were called to be free. But do not use your freedom to indulge the flesh; rather, serve one another humbly in love.
Galatians 5:13
No Longer Captive
In No Longer a Captive, Ethne is trapped in a prison of “unforgiveness.” She’s spent most of her life running away from the pain her father’s behavior caused, searching for peace through forgetting. But the only way she can find peace in her life is to come to terms with the hurt her father caused in her life. To forgive him as she has been forgiven.
I remember always having to answer that age-old question. The implication was that if I found the right career, life’s “calling” would follow. It resounded deeply in my generation. A career, a job, an occupation should be—will be—your passion. I transitioned from a psychologist to an economist to an engineer, but they all lacked that “passion.” I pursued and excelled in each, waiting patiently for the promised feeling to blossom.
Then Bella, my eldest daughter, was born. No one warned me that maybe, just maybe, my passion would not be a college major, wouldn’t have a syllabus, and wouldn’t require a degree. No one warned me that changing the world might mean neglecting my home and trying to find balance would be a daily struggle because excelling in one comes at the expense of the other.
Clarification Needed
No one clarified that my career might be the bread on the table, but it wouldn’t be my life calling. No one told me to expect to find joy in the simple things and in the people I get to share them with; the gentle breeze, a home cooked meal, and cuddles under the sheets. It was never hinted at that not owning a luxury car and not traveling around the world would be OK.
“Dream Big,” they said, failing to acknowledge the mesmerizing beauty of the small things, the small people that would tug on my clothes and give butterfly kisses. No one warned me that on most days I could be depleted but blessed, or that I could live weeks without 5 minutes to myself and still love every minute of it.
A Different Choice
I never imagined a life like this because it was rarely modeled and poorly advertised. Yet, an age-old book held this passion in high esteem and revealed to me the beauty that my previous worldview hid. It gave me the strength to pursue it with all my might and the will to make changes to my lifestyle and my wants. Tomorrow marks the beginning of a new season, new challenges, and new opportunities. Not everyone shares my journey, but oh, so many do. Many women, like me, were sold a life-calling very far from divine. Biblical motherhood is not a distraction to changing the world; it is the very catalyst that will bring forth the peace our society craves. It is my passion and my calling.
Marby Iglesias is a pastor’s wife in South Florida. You will find her on most days trying to keep up with her energetic toddler and baby. Her favourite pastime is sitting down for a good theology book with a cup of coffee.
It is a delight to introduce Christine Hoover who blogs over at Grace Covers Me. Christine has graciously allowed me to share her post about her son.
Christine: Ten years ago I was crying different tears over this boy. They were bitter, desperate, pleading tears that soaked and salted my entire life. Like a broken faucet, I couldn’t restrain their constant dripping. I cried throughout worship at church, unable to sing the words and mean them. I cried while driving the car with my son in the backseat and another in my womb. I cried in my bed, clinging to my husband, broken at the sight of his tears mirroring my own. Always, I cried after interacting with other people’s children whose affront to me was simply being typical, everyday kids who were hitting all their milestones.
If you’ve cried similar tears for your children you’ll want to click here and read the rest of Christine’s story where she shares how God helped and healed not only her son, but also her own heart.
Author Christine Hoover: The grace of Christ upended my legalistic life over a decade ago and ever since, I’ve been passionate about exploring and sharing about how that grace impacts every inch of life. In addition to my blog and books, I regularly contribute to Desiring God, Flourish (an online resource for ministry wives), and For The Church. My work has also appeared on The Gospel Coalition, New Churches, Christianity Today, and Outreach.
Whenever I start to get discouraged about the future of the church, I remember a conversation I had a few years ago with evangelical theologian Carl F. H. Henry on what would turn out to be his last visit to Southern Seminary before his death.
Several of us were lamenting the miserable shape of the church, about so much doctrinal vacuity, vapid preaching, non-existent discipleship. We asked Dr. Henry if he saw any hope in the coming generation of evangelicals.
And I will never forget his reply.
“Why, you speak as though Christianity were genetic,” he said. “Of course, there is hope for the next generation of evangelicals. But the leaders of the next generation might not be coming from the current evangelical establishment. They are probably still pagans.”
“Who knew that Saul of Tarsus was to be the great apostle to the Gentiles?” he asked us. “Who knew that God would raise up a C.S. Lewis, a Charles Colson? They were unbelievers who, once saved by the grace of God, were mighty warriors for the faith.”
Of course, the same principle applied to Henry himself. Who knew that God would raise up a newspaperman from a nominally Lutheran family to defend the Scriptures for generations of conservative evangelicals?
The next Jonathan Edwards might be the man driving in front of you with the Darwin Fish bumper decal. The next Charles Wesley might be a misogynist, profanity-spewing hip-hop artist right now. The next Billy Graham might be passed out drunk in a fraternity house right now. The next Charles Spurgeon might be making posters for a Gay Pride March right now. The next Mother Teresa might be managing an abortion clinic right now.
But the Spirit of God can turn all that around. And seems to delight to do so. The new birth doesn’t just transform lives, creating repentance and faith; it also provides new leadership to the church, and fulfills Jesus’ promise to gift his church with everything needed for her onward march through space and time (Eph. 4:8-16).
After all, while Phillip was leading the Ethiopian eunuch to Christ, Saul of Tarsus was still a murderer.
Most of the church in any generation comes along through the slow, patient discipleship of the next generation. But just to keep us from thinking Christianity is evolutionary and “natural” (or, to use Dr. Henry’s term “genetic”), Jesus shocks his church with leadership that seems to come like a Big Bang out of nowhere.
Whenever I’m tempted to despair about the shape of American Christianity, I’m reminded that Jesus never promised the triumph of the American church; he promised the triumph of the church. Most of the church, in heaven and on earth, isn’t American. Maybe the hope of the American church is right now in Nigeria or Laos or Indonesia.
Jesus will be King, and his church will flourish. And he’ll do it in the way he chooses, by exalting the humble and humbling the exalted, and by transforming cowards and thieves and murderers into the cornerstones of his New City.
So relax.
And, be kind to that atheist in front of you on the highway, the one who just shot you an obscene gesture. He might be the one who evangelizes your grandchildren.
Dr. Moore is the Dean of the School of Theology and Senior Vice-President for Academic Administration at The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary. He also serves as a preaching pastor at Highview Baptist Church, where he ministers weekly at the congregation’s Fegenbush location. Moore is the author of several books, including The Kingdom of Christ, Adopted for Life, and Tempted and Tried.
Used with permission
I’ve never counted, but I imagine the number of times I’ve been asked that question by Moms with one or two children is somewhere in the hundreds. I have five children, and judging by the look on the tired and weary faces that pose the question, that number seems simply impossible.How do you do it?
Those are five loaded words. I suppose because the “it” behind that question is different for everyone.
How do you care for five little people?
How do you operate on little sleep?
How do you keep them safe?
How do you find time to do the laundry?
How do you afford them?
How do you keep from losing your ever-loving mind?
Mommas of one and two children – I understand every one of these questions. And, I understand just where you’re coming from.There are some things I want you to know about me. About children. About this journey through motherhood that we’re both on.
Sarah lives in Raleigh, North Carolina with her husband, Jason, her four boys and her baby girl. She is really disorganized, she doesn’t make her bed, and she yells at her kids too much. She don’t garden, sew, craft, or read – so you’ll rarely find anything about those topics on her blog. She doesn’t do so many things, so when you read her stories, look at her photos, and bookmark her recipes, she hopes you’ll see a girl who shares what she does well, but is hopelessly flawed in many other ways.
Despite all that, she is loved – forever loved – by a God so big and beautiful that He came down to earth just to know her. She lives for Jesus – and her heart belongs to Him.
Many Christians do not really grasp why God has forgiven us of our sins. It’s not as if God the Father woke up one morning and was having a great day, just feeling terrific about being the Sovereign of the universe, then decided on a whim to have mercy on his elect and look past their iniquities. God did not save us because the loving part of him finally out balanced the justice part of him. We must not picture God up in heaven muttering: “You know your sin? And all your rebellion and failures and disobedience? You remember all that? Well fuhgettaboutit. It don’t bother me. I love youse guys and I ain’t gonna mention your sin no more.”
Without giving it much thought, many of us picture the atonement as nothing but undeserved mercy from a loving God. We forget that the mercy we receive is a mercy merited on the cross. God has not saved us by the removal of justice, but by the satisfaction of it.
Justice is shot through the entire plan of redemption. God never once set aside his justice. There is a hell because God is just. And people go to heaven because God is just. Our sins are counted to Christ, so that he died in our place. His life and his death counted to us, that we might live.
We are not forgiven and given eternal life because God waved a magic wand and decided he would just overlook our sins. He has not overlooked the smallest speck of your sin. The good news of the cross is that the tiniest little speck of your sin, and all of the great big sins as well, have been paid for by the perfect and final sacrifice.
We were not saved on a whim because God decided one day he might as well have mercy on sinners. We are saved because God sent his Son to become the curse for us. Every last lustful look, every proud thought, every gossiping tongue, God demands justice for all of it. And the resurrection of Jesus bears witness to the glorious good news that all the demands of justice have been met so that Christ would be the first to conquer death, but not the last. Divine satisfaction through divine self-substitution.
I am the Senior Pastor at University Reformed Church(RCA) in East Lansing, Michigan, near Michigan State University. Married to Trisha with five young children.
ABOUT KEVIN DEYOUNG