I am a masochist. My men’s group is extremely painful yet for some reason I keep going back. We talked this morning about the motives behind our good works—that often we do things not out of a love for God or a love for others, but out of a love for ourselves. We want to be recognized, we desire to receive praise, especially when we give the appearance that we are not seeking it.

I shared an example from my life of how I was glad that someone noticed a ‘good work’ last Sunday. Several of us confessed, we prayed, we broke up to go our separate ways. It is 7:57 a.m. and I’ve already done the same thing again. There is not even anyone in the office yet—I don’t need actual people present to seek to impress, I found out I can do it just as effectively by e-mail.

Pride, self-righteousness, twisted motives, reputation-seeking. These are all deep sins that take time and effort even just to recognize. But if we don’t see these ‘sins of the heart’ in our hearts, we are not living the victorious life, we are living in denial.

Another huge questions is this: Why do we want to root out these sins? Is it just because we want to be better (good for goodness sake?) Is it to join an elite group that is proud of their depth of understanding of the Gospel (how insidious is that)? Or is it because God has allowed us to turn to him, as he runs to us, is it because we know we have offended a holy God, is it because the splinters are deep and only our Father can pull it out, is it because we are in love with him and we love to please him because he already loves us?

Now it is 8:03 and I’ve done it again; I’m proud of my blog, thinking that both of you readers will be impressed. Jeremiah 17:9 reads, “The heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure. Who can understand it?” God, surely my heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure; and I can’t even fathom the depths. But you can! By your grace may I recognize and turn from these sometimes socially acceptable sins, and as I do so would you not only cleanse the deep waters of my heart, but also heal the source of the spring from which they flow.

Albert Mohler recently asked on his radio show, “How do you know what excess is?” How about not only disposable cameras, but disposable video cameras? We are a people accustomed to instant gratification. Instead of full contentment in whatever situation, we demand full comfort in any situation. So, when something goes wrong, when we experience pain, when we are tested, our faith wavers when our prayers are not immediately answered.

Ps 99 tells us “Moses and Aaron were among God’s priests, Samuel was among those who called on his name; they called on the Lord and he answered them.” Moses wandered in the desert for 40 years. I don’t know about you, but that would have tested my faith: “How much longer God?? Ok, I get it! I learned my lesson after one day of this! How many more days, or perhaps even weeks?” 40 years.

Interestingly, Samuel anointed Saul king who reigned miserably for…40 years. Imagine his sorrow, his temptation to regret having participated in bringing Saul to power, though it was part of God’s plan. Imagine his prayers, pleading for a new, godly king who would lead the people justly.

And the kicker is this: Moses never got out of the desert, on earth at least. He died before Israel entered the Promised Land full of gardens and homes and livestock and vineyards. And Samuel? He died while Saul was still king, before David began his reign. They called on the Lord, and he answered them.

Could it be that we are presumptuous and prideful in our expectations of God to instantly answer our every whim? Could it be that we have no idea what it means to live in the presence of God, fully satisfied with Him? Could it be that God answers prayers more often measured in lifetimes than in days and weeks?

God, that the earth would have nothing I desire besides you, and that it would be good for me simply to be near you (Ps 73).

Not one of all the LORD's good promises to the house of Israel failed; every one was fulfilled. - Joshua 21:45

I’m reading The Rare Jewel of Christian Contentment, a Puritan classic, with a small group of pastors in Sarasota. Isn’t it enough that when I am afflicted I am quiet outwardly and don’t complain to others? I’m learning this is not the case. Jeremiah Burroughs writes in this book the most challenging of definitions: “Christian contentment is that sweet, inward, quiet, gracious frame of spirit, which freely submits to and delights in God’s wise and fatherly disposal in every condition.”

Freely submits? Ok. But delights in? That is going too far. Burroughs writes as if he knows me: “while there is a serene calm upon their tongues these people have blustering storms upon their spirits, and while they keep silence their hearts are troubled and even worn away with anguish and vexation. They have peace and quiet outwardly, but within war from the unruly and turbulent workings of their hearts.”

I can put on the stoic, spiritual pastor’s façade, but don’t look at my heart. Doesn’t Paul teach us in Philippians that it is not the outward expression, but a deep, mysterious inner thing of the soul? “I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation…”

God, teach me the secret of contentment in any and every situation; whether healthy or sick, wealthy or pinching pennies, sunny or rainy, cheerful or quarreling kids, bright road ahead or foggy path in the woods, sweet unity in marriage or struggling to see eye to eye. Be enough for me, be my all in all. May my warring heart be calmed as it looks to you alone, the giver of every good gift and the satisfier or souls.

The Long Way Home

I love Norah Jones’ song Take the Long Way Home. There is something about the road less traveled and a mini-adventure that interests me. To get home from church I sometimes drive through the wilderness on a little known route through Lakewood Ranch. It is five extra minutes, but when there is no rush I’m more interested in the scenery than in getting home quickly.

For some, the long way home is a different mode of transportation. One friend who lives in Europe prefers to drive across the Alps rather than fly because of the sights he can see, the side trips, the quaint little mountain villages with narrow winding streets.

I’m reading through the Bible this year as if I’m in a plane going at 500 miles per hour. It’s great to get an overview, it is a wonderful thing to be exposed to so much Scripture, it will be rewarding when I get to the end. At the same time, I see intriguing and inviting side streets that I just don’t have time to go down because I’m in such a hurry to get home. I miss the ability to look up a cross reference, pray over a verse, and just sit and meditate.

For me, reading through the Bible is a helpful discipline, and something I might do every five years. But next year, I’m going to take the long way home.