So THAT’s Why!

When he had finished speaking, he said to Simon, “Put out into deep water, and let down the nets for a catch.” – Luke 5:4

My last two posts dealt with my high school reunion, where I had hoped to find minds and hearts more open to the thought of eternity, especially after the recent deaths of some of our classmates. We’re all in our seventies now, and yet it seemed most of my peers are still focused on the present, or at times like reunions, the past, even as the future looms ahead, and the end is getting closer by the minute.

When I think of the future, I smile, even though I realize there’s not as much of this life ahead of me as there is behind, and what’s left will fly by faster than ever. It’s what comes after this life that gets me excited. I know I can’t possibly fathom what awaits believers in the Resurrection, but I know it’s going to be beyond wonderful.

I looked for opportunities to share my faith with my old friends, starting with the quote of the day: “Life is like a roll of toilet paper. The closer you get to the end, the faster it goes.” I got a few chuckles, but precious few people were interested in continuing a conversation on that subject. Although undoubtedly for some people this would be their last reunion, it baffled me that so many of these septuagenarians seemed unconcerned and not the least bit curious about what comes next. I was aching to tell them about the hope that I have – that my Savior, who could be their Savior, too, has beaten death, has been raised to everlasting life, and has promised that same life to anyone and everyone who believes in Him. What could be a more exciting topic of conversation that that? And yet, as fast as they changed the subject, one would think that they’d prefer any other subject to that one.

(I was wishing I had worn my favorite t-shirt, the one that says, “If being a Christian is boring, you’re doing it wrong.”)

According to the women in my book study group, staunch Reformists, the people I tried to share the gospel with didn’t respond, because they were lost and literally couldn’t respond, not unless God was drawing them to Himself. So, saving them was up to God, not me. And what’s more, according to them, the Lord decided long ago who would be drawn to Him and who wouldn’t.

I thought, So, if that’s the case, why evangelize? Why pray for the lost, if I have no control over other people and it’s already been decided, anyway? The tenets of Calvinism, if true, weren’t much motivation for me to continue praying for people and talking to them about Jesus.

Last week as I was reading the gospel pf Luke, I was still trying to trust God in this matter, even though I didn’t clearly understand – which is the true test of faith, isn’t it? In chapter 5, Jesus had finished speaking to the crowds from Simon (Peter) and Andrew’s fishing boat. When He told Simon to put out into deep water and let down the nets for a catch, Simon said something I could identify with completely that morning:

Simon answered, “Master, we’ve worked hard all night and haven’t caught anything.” (Luke 5:5) Boy, could I relate! But what followed brought tears to my eyes, because I recognized it as the attitude I should aim for:

” … But because you say so, I will let down the nets.”

Because You say so … And as you probably know, Simon obeyed and got the catch of a lifetime.

When my mother used to say, “Because I said so!” in response to my whining “WHYYYYYYY????” that answer used to bother me. But once I had my own children, I realized that in certain situations that’s a perfectly valid reason.

Even more when it’s God’s reason. When I can’t think of a rational reason to do something the Lord wants me to do, that Still, Small Voice says, How about doing it just because I’m asking you to do it? And of course, how could I say “no” to the One who loves me so much He died for me?

Sometimes He just says, Trust Me. And I know He’s worthy of my trust.

So, that was my answer to the nagging question I brought home with me. And for now, it’ll have to do.

Prayer: Father, You know all things, and I know next to nothing. Thank You for loving me anyway. Jesus, You told Your people to go and preach the gospel to everyone. Help us to obey that Great Commission, even though we don’t always see results. Help us to remember and accept that You don’t ask for results, You only ask for obedience. Help me to say, Like Mary, “behold the handmaiden of the Lord.” In Your name, amen.

One Bright Spot, One Possible Flicker

So neither the one who plants nor the one who waters is anything, but only God, who makes things grow. – I Corinthians 3:7

My last post, describing my 55th class reunion, might have been what the kids would call a “downer,” since the weekend as a whole was disappointing to me. I had anticipated that with the recent deaths of so many classmates, there would be more opportunities to share the gospel, more openness to spiritual (eternal) things. But what I encountered were, for the most part, people who not only were clueless about the hereafter, but who didn’t care. I found it baffling. And a bit depressing.

At the cocktail party on the last night of the weekend, I had a conversation with an old classmate that started with the topic of the fleeting nature of life. At that point she brought up the concept of reincarnation, not that she believed in it, but that she found it interesting. She said she wasn’t sure what she believed about an afterlife, and it seemed she might have been looking for some answers. Delighted that she wasn’t cutting off the discussion at the first mention of spiritual things, I began to share my faith and was able to tell her why I believe what I do.

I told her that I needed an anchor, something by which I could know the unchanging Truth. Since my emotions are woefully unreliable, and since the world’s opinions and fads are like shifting sands, my anchor is the Bible, since it doesn’t change. I told her that concerning death, according to the Bible, we only live once, we die, and then we face Judgment. I said the Bible explains that we are all fallen people (sinners) and that our sins separate us from a holy God. To get to God, we need forgiveness, but forgiveness requires making atonement. According to the Bible, atonement requires a sacrifice, and the sacrifice had to be perfect … which we are not.

“But God … “ But Jesus, the Son of God and the onpft Person who ever lived, became that atonement! He paid the penalty for our sins by dying on the cross – and He rose from the dead! So, if we believe in Him, our sins have been paid for, we are forgiven, and we can live with Him forever!

As I explained to her that this is my hope, even as I see this life passing by with lightning speed, her face was warm, receptive, and smiling. As we parted, she thanked me enthusiastically, saying that when one has something good, one should share it, and she recognized that I had something wonderful. I didn’t “lead her in the sinner’s prayer” on the spot, but I believe the seeds were planted, and God is perfectly able to cause them to take root and grow. I’m hoping and praying that if she and I are both still around for the next reunion, I’ll have a sister to fellowship with.

The only other lengthy spiritual conversation I was able to have had a much different tone, but then it was with a much different person. After the last party I spoke with another old friend. She said she was glad we got to talk, because for years she had sensed judgment and condemnation from me. I was stunned. I had no clue what she was talking about, but I apologized if she had gotten that impression. She said she wanted to invite me to her church, but by her description I could tell it didn’t preach the same gospel I know, so I was glad I could honestly tell her I had other plans. She went on to tell me repeatedly that she was a “good person,” listing her good works. I probably disappointed her when I told her that none of us is good, that’s why we need Jesus. I explained the gospel the way I had explained it to my other friend earlier that night, and she insisted that that’s what her church taught … but that she is also a good person. Throughout the conversation, she kept insisting that she was happy, but I have to wonder, if someone is happy, do they have to tell people they are? After I had that thought, oddly, she suddenly remarked that I seemed very happy and asked what had happened to me that made such a difference, to which I responded that it’s Jesus. It’s always been Jesus.

It didn’t seem that I changed her mind that night, and she certainly didn’t change I’mimwi Her final comments about my obvious joy give me hope.

As I wrote in my last post, I am beginning to realize more and more that it is really only God who can draw people to Himself. I can share the gospel with others in the best way I know how, I can love them and pray for them, but unless God opens their hearts, they remain lost. I don’t like it, but Truth doesn’t need me to like it to be Truth.

A couple of weeks after getting home I was still wrestling with the thought, If certain people are going to come to God, and if the others are literally unable to come, if it’s already been determined, why do I pray for them? And what’s the point in sharing my faith?

Then the Lord showed me something that, while not explaining it fully, gave me peace enough to just trust Him.

(to be continued …)

That Might Explain It

No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws him. John 6:44

Recently I attended another high school reunion – our 55th. We have these gatherings every five years, but because of Covid the last one was four years ago. So, our much anticipated 50th ended up being 51 years after graduation.

Even in the four years since the last reunion, we had lost some classmates, and I don’t imagine we’ll get to the next reunion without losing more. The most recent loss was John, whose passing had shocked everyone – a sudden heart attack in the middle of his workout at the gym, and he was gone.

I thought surely by now my former classmates would be pondering their own mortality, the rapidly passing time, and whether or not there was anything awaiting them after this life. I fully expected numerous opportunities to share my faith in my resurrected Savior.

John’s “celebration of life” was an event attended by hundreds of people. Musicians played classical music, a choir sang “What a Wonderful World,” a soloist sang a Cat Stevens song, and for two hours people reminisced about John – his athleticism, his success in business, his philanthropy, his humor. Stories were shared about this wonderful, funny, successful, athletic, generous person – who has now left this world forever.

I listened for some hint of John’s faith, any mention of God, heaven, eternity, any shred of hope offered to the people there, all of whom will also leave this life very soon. But there was nothing – not even the generic mention of “a better place.”

At the reunion dinner that followed, people talked about how wonderful the service had been. All I remembered was a hollow performance. I tried to express my thoughts to my friend Laurie about the hope of life after death, but she adamantly insisted that by remembering John, in a sense, we’re keeping him alive. I was baffled that I seemed to be the only person wanting more than fading memories of me after I leave this world.

Laurie and I later encountered a couple of people we had known in our school days, who were just saying goodbye to another man I didn’t recognize. This man was unusually thin and frail and was breathing oxygen from a small tank. (I later learned he was in hospice care.) After he was out of earshot, one of the others said, “He asked me, ‘How’s your spiritual life?'” with an expression of amazement that said he thought that was the strangest thing anyone had ever asked him. (I was touched that he had dragged himself to the reunion for one last ditch effort to reach his former classmates before his own departure.)

Laurie laughed, “I’m glad he didn’t ask me!” Then she looked at me and added, “He should have asked Ann!”

The others looked at me curiously, and I responded, “As a matter of fact, the older I get, the more important those things are to me…”

But no one asked me to elaborate. The subject was changed quickly, and the conversation continued as if I had left the building.

During the other events of that weekend, I reconnected with former classmates with a growing awareness of how fleeting time is. The boys who had proudly flaunted their long hair in high school now have much less of it. One of my girlfriends has Parkinson’s. Several of “the girls” didn’t make it to St. Louis, either because of sudden health issues of their own or a health emergency involving their husbands. Some are now widowed. And of course, some we will never see again in this life.

How can they be so indifferent to the speed at which we are all careening towards eternity?

Generally speaking, with a couple of exceptions, which I’ll write about next time, I returned from the reunion feeling let down. And baffled that so many people in this stage of life seem to have no concern whatsoever about the future, even after seeing a classmate “in excellent health” be working out in the gym one moment and gone the next. (Where is John now???) Many had also seen an old friend about to leave this life who is perfectly at peace – God bless him. – but appeared unimpressed.

Back in Louisville, I met with my book group to discuss R. C. Sproul’s Chosen by God. I still struggle with the Calvinistic view that some of us are chosen, others aren’t. But it might be starting to make sense to me in light of recent experience. I’ve long known we can’t save ourselves by our own efforts; we’re saved through faith, not works. But is it true that we can’t even believe without God’s help? According to Ephesians, apparently yes.

“For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God.” Ephesians 2:8

Could it be that most of the people I encountered that weekend had no interest in thinking about God, because they were quite literally unable to? From all appearances, these people didn’t know Him – and didn’t care. Had I been looking into the faces of dead souls? And if they had no ability to even be interested in spiritual things, much less grasp them, that meant there was nothing I could have said to make them interested, unless the Lord Himself opened their minds.

That doctrine always puzzled me before, probably because I can’t imagine being indifferent to God – I have wanted to know Him for as long as I can remember. And as this life’s end is looming on the horizon, I can’t imagine not caring what comes next. But according to Sproul and others, we can’t even care without His help.

I’m still pondering these things, but for now, I have no other explanation.

Prayer: Lord, thank You for giving us the gift of salvation, even though none of us deserves it. Thank You for the gracious gift of faith which enables us to have this relationship with to You, the faith which drew us to You in the first place. Please open the hearts and minds of those we love. Draw them, as well, so that they, too, may find eternal life in You. And help us to be faithful witnesses, even in frustrating times. In Jesus’ name, amen.

Running to Win

[L]et us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. – Hebrews 12:1

Last Saturday was the culmination of a month of festivities in our new home town. The Kentucky Derby is for many Louisvillians the most exciting two minutes of the year, and Marty and I have been privileged to witness it live from one of the many parties each year.

Tom and Julia have been throwing Derby parties for over twenty years, so it’s a special tradition for friends and neighbors, who arrive with hats and “fascinators” on their heads, dishes to share in their hands, and dollar bills for “betting” in their pockets.

A couple of years ago, I couldn’t have named one horse in the race before we got there, but it didn’t matter. To make the race more interesting, we all drew names out of an envelope so we would have a horse to root for.

When it was time for the big race, the guests gathered around the TVs in the living room, den, and patio. The bugle sounded, the band played Stephen Foster’s “My Old Kentucky Home,” and the horses were led out onto the track in front of 150,000 cheering fans. The sunshine, the bright colors, the music created a solemn but festive mood, and we recognized among the throngs of ordinary people some celebrities who had come to Churchill Downs to see and be seen. We had only lived in Louisville for a few years and weren’t exactly life-long Derby fans. Still, having the name of a horse in my hand and being included in the event, I was starting to get into the spirit.

When the starting gun went off and the horses shot out of the gate, the roar of the crowd at the track was joined by fans in the living room, the dining room, and the patio. I knew that all over the world, on countless televisions, laptops, and phones, millions of eyes were fixed on the horses thundering down the track.

Just then, an unexpected wave of emotion came over me; I had a lump in my throat and tears in my eyes. (The more pragmatic side of me thought, What the heck…???) Suddenly I felt for the jockeys hanging on and urging their horses forward and for the beautiful creatures that were running their hearts out toward the finish line.

The cheering that came from all directions grew louder as the finish line came into view, and one horse that had not been expected to do that well came around the outside and passed the one in the lead just in time to take the prize! The cheering reached a crescendo, and I sat there in tears, realizing that I had not been watching just a horserace but an object lesson from God, a reminder to encourage me.

The author of the book of Hebrews wrote out a list of great people of faith in Chapter 11, which some call “the Faith Hall of Fame” – Noah, Abraham, Moses, David, and others, whose lives were filled with miracles and whose stories made it into the Scriptures. (Hebrews 11:33-35a)

The passage also commended others, whose names are unknown in the world but known to God. These were tortured, jeered at, destitute, persecuted, imprisoned, and put to death. (“The world was not worthy of them.” – vs 38a) I have always found those verses comforting, knowing that just because I’m not a spiritual “celebrity” and my prayers haven’t always produced miracles doesn’t mean I’m not a child of God or that I am not serving Him well.

But it’s the opening verse of the next chapter that came rushing back into my spirit so unexpectedly that afternoon.

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. – Hebrews 12:1

For every one of us who believe in Jesus, we are also in a race, and it can be grueling. I know from experience that sometimes I can feel as though I am struggling on my own to just get through the week, the day, or the hour. You might feel that way, too.

You might be reading this in a hospital room. Maybe visiting hours are over, the floor is quiet, and you feel everyone in the world is asleep except you.

You might be experiencing unspeakable grief, so horrendous that people don’t know what to say to you, so they say nothing, and you’re left feeling utterly alone.

You might be the only Christian in your family, or in your class at school, or in your workplace. Every day seems like a swim against the current, and the enemy might be whispering to you, You’ve done your best, now it’s time to give up.

Or you might just be at a party, where everyone around you is going wild over two minutes of watching horses run. And then, out of nowhere, there’s a reminder…

We are surrounded by a “cloud of witnesses.” – Not just 150,000 in the stands, but millions upon millions who have gone before us. Not just the spiritual “celebrities,” but also countless ordinary people throughout history, who served an extraordinary God, along with a myriad of angels, reminding us,

“You’re not alone!”

Can you hear them cheering us on? Perhaps not, but they are! They are rooting for us, encouraging us not to give up, and constantly declaring, reminding us,

“Don’t give up! He is worthy! He is sufficient! He is faithful!” This is what I was “hearing” from God, and when the race was over, I looked down and saw that the Lord had added an exclamation point.

I had the name of the winning horse in my hand.

Prayer: Father, Thank You for Your promise that we are never alone. Thank You for the cloud of witnesses that have gone before us, who can attest to Your faithfulness. Help us take hold of that reality and live our lives accordingly, in Jesus’ name. Amen.

Christmas Angel, Answered Prayer, and Lesson Learned

It is more blessed to give than receive. – Acts 20:35

In less than a week, I went from taking a long, brisk walk with my husband to barely being able to walk across the room. They say the purpose of toes is to find furniture in the dark, and I have one that is quite good at it.

I call it “the little piggy that should have stayed home.”

It’s a long story, but the bottom line is, I have a couple of bones in my feet that are severely dislocated. (They would rather be side-by-side than end-to-end, as they’re supposed to be.) This makes it difficult to impossible to bend my foot in the way it needs to bend in order to walk normally. Consequently, I have been hobbling around like an old lady.

(I know, I am an old lady, but I would still much rather be walking with a spring in my step the way I was.)

Time for another lesson in humility.

The morning before Christmas, I was tired. With not enough sleep, too much to do, and being unable to move very quickly or painlessly, I was confiding in (complaining to) the Lord about all the things I wanted to do for the people in my life that I was afraid I’d be unable to do. The tiredness must have started taking over my brain, because these thoughts gave way to thoughts of the future. I mean, like the rest-of-my-life future. I have always believed I would stay in this world for as long as the Lord could use me, and I didn’t want to stay a moment longer once I became more trouble than I was worth.

That’s where the Lord cut in and reminded me of something He had made clear to me numerous times before. (I seem to be a slow learner.) If I belonged to Him, I would always be able to glorify Him in one way or another. It may not be the way I would like – being the giver, the helper, the strong one. The fact is, His power is made perfect in weakness (II Corinthians 12:9).

Now I don’t like to be the weak one, but if someone is going to be the helper, logically, there’s got to be one who is helped.

It’s easy for me to see that when it comes to other people. I don’t know how many times I have said to a giver who resists a gift, “Hey, if it’s more blessed to give than receive, let somebody else be blessed for a change!” I realize that in all my “good deed doing,” I was always the one who was more blessed than the hospital patients, the nursing home residents, the people being served at the food kitchen, etc. At the same time, there was a good chance the sin of a self-sufficient attitude had sneaked into my soul.

Maybe this season – or that day, at least – was my time to be on the receiving end. What did I have to lose, really, except my pride, which was starting to get unwieldy, anyway? I quietly dedicated my day to the Lord, for whatever He wanted to do with me, and set out on the errands I had to do before Christmas Day.

My daughter had announced that Christmas morning brunch would be a waffle bar. I don’t eat gluten or sugar, hence the trip to the health food store, resisting the urge to be resentful. I had to remind myself that there would be seven people at breakfast. Why should everyone else plan their meal around my stupid limitations? As this additional detail subtly added to my feelings of being isolated and burdensome, I realized that my normal Christmas cheer was in jeopardy! I began silently – and purposefully – giving thanks for the anticipated gathering of loved ones, the gifts I got to watch them open, the beautiful Christmas music, and most of all, the Savior whose birth we’re celebrating.

At the checkout counter of the health food store, I was aware of just one other customer, a young-to-middle-aged man who was also waiting to check out. When the clerk rang up my purchase, a voice came from behind me.

“I’ll get that.” I looked around, and the man was smiling. He wasn’t holding anything, just seemed to be there to pay for my purchases. “Merry Christmas,” he added.

I started to protest, but he looked so happy, I just said, “Why, thank you so much!”

As the clerk handed me my bag, the same kind voice said, “And I want to buy a $100 gift card for her.”

Again, I looked around to see who “her” might be – another recipient of this man’s kindness? But he was still smiling at me. For a moment I was speechless.

“Really?” I stammered. … “Why?” His smile got broader.

“It’s Christmas,” he said.

I smiled back with mock suspicion. “Are you a Christian?” I asked quietly.

He gave me a look I couldn’t read. “I don’t know what that means…” he said. Was he quizzing me, or trying to find out how I would define “Christian”?

I asked, simply, “Do you love Jesus?”

“I do!” he declared.

“So do I!” I confirmed.

I asked him his name. He wouldn’t tell me.

I asked if he was human. He laughed and said he was.

I asked if I could hug him, and he consented.

Finally, I asked if he like to read. He said “yes.” I asked if he’d like some of my books. He said “sure!”

I fetched a copy of each of my books from my car (always prepared!) and came back into the store as he was buying a gift card for someone else. I offered to sign the books, and He said yes but still wouldn’t tell me his name. So, I just signed them to “Christmas Angel.” As I was signing the copy of BARRIERS, he showed me a picture of his beautiful wife, and I signed that book to her, although he only gave me her initials.

I offered to sign “Grumpy to Grateful” for his kids, and he said “They’ll love that!” and did give me their first names. I gave him the books, we hugged one more time, and he was off to bless other people that Christmas Eve.

So, yesterday I was on the receiving end of a blessing I didn’t “need” – or maybe I did. I realized on the way out that I hadn’t quite perfected the art of being on the receiving end yet, since I just had to give the man something in return.

(Baby steps.)

Twice more that day I found myself not being charged for something I’d thought I needed to pay for. Meanwhile, the protein bar I had offered the homeless man on the corner had been rejected with a rude lecture about how “those things’ll kill you!’ or something.

So, I finally got the message. I don’t always have to be the one giving. Remembering the look of joy on the “angel’s” face as he bought gift cards for random strangers, I realized that sometimes I can contribute to other people’s joy simply by accepting their gifts. Besides, as it’s often been said, “You can’t outgive God.”

Yesterday my daughter’s family gave me my Christmas gift, a jar with Scripture verses in tiny scrolls that I’m to take out and read according to the emotion I’m feeling. Since yellow is the color for joy, the first scroll I took out was yellow. Tears filled my eyes, as I read,

Until now you have not asked for anything in my name. Ask and you will receive, and your joy will be complete. – John 16:24

I guess it makes God happy to give to His children, too.

Prayer: Father of all good and perfect gifts, we thank You for this blessed season, not just for what we get from others, or even what we can give to others, but what You have given to us, the ultimate Gift of Your Son. May we live every day of the year with an awed awareness of Your grace and live accordingly, whether by being generous givers, or humble and grateful receivers, for both give You glory. In Jesus’ name, amen.

“Good Christian Men,” Repent

To some who were confident of their own righteousness and looked down on everyone else, Jesus told this parable: “Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee stood by himself and prayed: ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other people—robbers, evildoers, adulterers—or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week and give a tenth of all I get.’

“But the tax collector stood at a distance. He would not even look up to heaven, but beat his breast and said, ‘God, have mercy on me, a sinner.’

“I tell you that this man, rather than the other, went home justified before God. For all those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.” – Luke 18:9-14

This was found on X recently. I don’t know who wrote it, but it is a good reminder/wakeup call:

Satan is not opposed to good morals.

He’s opposed to Jesus Christ.

Read that again because most Christians miss this completely.

Satan doesn’t care if you’re a “good person.” He doesn’t care if you volunteer at the food bank, recycle your trash, and help old ladies cross the street. He doesn’t care if you’re kind, generous, and well-liked by everyone in your community.

He cares that you don’t bow the knee to Jesus.

Here’s the deception that’s damning millions:

Satan has convinced people that morality equals spirituality. That being a “good person” is the same as being a Christian. That if you just live right, treat people well, and avoid the “big sins,” you’re acceptable to God.

This is a lie straight from the pit of hell.

The Pharisees had impeccable morals. They followed the law meticulously. They were respected, disciplined, and religiously devoted.

Jesus called them children of the devil.
Why? Not because their morals were bad. Because their morals replaced Christ.
Satan’s greatest trick isn’t making bad people worse. It’s making good people think they don’t need a Savior.

Think about it:

The atheist who feeds the homeless thinks he’s good enough without God.

The Buddhist who meditates and practices compassion thinks she’s enlightened without Christ.

The Muslim who prays five times daily thinks he’s righteous without Jesus.

The moral Christian who goes to church, pays his tithe, and avoids scandal thinks he’s saved without surrender.

All of them are headed to the same place: eternal separation from God.

Because morality doesn’t save. Jesus saves.
“For by grace are ye saved through faith; and that not of yourselves: it is the gift of God: Not of works, lest any man should boast.” Ephesians 2:8-9

Satan loves moral people who reject Jesus. They’re his best advertisement for the lie that you can earn your way to heaven.

They’re living proof that you can:

•Be kind without Christ
•Be generous without God
•Be disciplined without the Holy Spirit
•Be respected without redemption

And still be lost.

The most dangerous people in hell won’t be the murderers and rapists. They’ll be the moral, upstanding citizens who thought their goodness was good enough.

Their morals became their idol. Their goodness became their god.

And Satan smiled because he’d accomplished his goal: Keep them from Jesus.

Here’s what most Christians don’t understand:

Satan doesn’t need to make you do bad things. He just needs to keep you from doing the ONE thing that matters: surrendering to Christ.

If he can get you to:

•Trust your morals instead of Christ’s sacrifice

•Rely on your goodness instead of God’s grace

•Believe in your works instead of Jesus’ finished work

He’s won.

You can live a moral life and still die lost. You can be a good person and still face judgment. You can avoid all the “big sins” and still end up separated from God forever.
Because the only sin that damns you eternally is rejecting Jesus Christ.

“He that believeth on the Son hath everlasting life: and he that believeth not the Son shall not see life; but the wrath of God abideth on him.” John 3:36

Not the murderer who repents and believes in Christ is damned.

Not the thief who turns to Jesus on the cross is damned.

Not the prostitute who washes Jesus’ feet with her tears is damned.

The moral, religious person who rejects Christ is damned.

That’s why Satan loves morality without Jesus. It sends people to hell with a smile on their face, convinced they were good enough.

Stop trusting your morals. Start trusting Jesus.

Your goodness won’t save you. Your works won’t redeem you. Your morality won’t justify you.

Only the blood of Jesus Christ can wash away your sin and make you acceptable to a holy God.

Everything else is just Satan’s distraction from the one thing that actually matters.

(Annie) So, as we finish up buying, making, wrapping, and giving our gifts this Christmas, let’s remember what Christians are really celebrating, which is the greatest gift of all – eternal life through God’s Son – Emmanuel, “God with us,” “the Way, the Truth, and the Life” – Jesus.

Blessings to you all.

Are We Forgetting Something?

Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good. His love endures forever. – Psalm 136:1

So, it’s been ten days since Halloween, and some of our neighbors still have skeletons in their yards. Remnants of jack-o-lanterns can still be seen withering on some porches.

Meanwhile, every store in town is decorated for Christmas, encouraging us to jump into the season of “Buy-buy-buy!” lest we find ourselves falling short, come December 25.

(What’s wrong with this picture?)

So far, I have seen one lone house decorated for Thanksgiving. I walked past a couple setting up an inflated, smiling turkey, wearing a pilgrim’s hat, and a sign saying, “THANKS.” (I resisted the urge to tell them it might be more appropriate for a chicken or cow or pig to be thankful – thankful they aren’t turkeys.)

All kidding aside, what happened to Thanksgiving, that special time to reflect on our blessings? Between the season of celebrating death and what seems to have become the season of greed, has giving thanks been lost in the busyness?

It’s easy to point to the kids, who now have their own app for posting lists of what they want for Christmas. But a lot of us adults can fall into the same trap. Commercials on TV and internet are designed to make us covet stuff we don’t have, at least the ones that aren’t trying to persuade us to take the newest drug. And for those less selfish, we’re told we should be getting our loved ones more stuff! applying the strategy of the guilt trip.

Can we all just slow down and be thankful for what we have? Can we sit back and enjoy a holiday whose main focus is bringing people together and being grateful, before the “Black Friday” sales – which used to be on Friday but now are starting to encroach even on Thanksgiving evening?

At the risk of this post’s being seen as yet another commercial (Please read to the end!), I do want to tell you/remind you that my children’s book, “Grumpy to Grateful,” is available on Amazon (A search for “Ann Aschauer” will take you to my book page.) and can be ordered now to arrive by Thanksgiving. It’s written to remind kids (and adults) how blessed we are when there’s food on the table, clothes to keep us warm, and loved ones to share our lives with.

If ordering the book seems like “just one more thing to do!” – I understand! Please feel free to read your children or grandchildren the story right from this blog. My point isn’t to sell books, but to focus our attention on being thankful, even if it’s just for the time it takes to read the story of Jackson, the grumpy boy, and what it took to make him appreciate the life God has given him. Whether you order the book or read it here, I would love to have you share how the Lord used it in your children’s (and your) lives.

From Grumpy to Grateful (A Story of Thanksgiving) Chapter 1

From Grumpy to Grateful (A Thanksgiving Story) Chapter 2

From Grumpy to Grateful (A Story of Thanksgiving) Chapter 3

From Grumpy to Grateful (A Story of Thanksgiving) Chapter 4

From Grumpy to Grateful (A Story of Thanksgiving) Chapter 5

Happy Thanksgiving, friends. ❤

Prayer: Dear Lord and Creator of all good things, forgive us for the way we pass up what You’ve already given us in the pursuit of more. We do thank You now for the gift of life here, with all its blessings, both the material gifts and the intangible gifts of love, laughter, joy, and peace. And when life is less than joyful, thank You for Your promise that we never are never alone. Fill us with Your Spirit and make us blessings to the people around us, both those we know and those we are meeting for the first time, because we know that we are all made in Your image, to be vessels of Your love. Keep us from succumbing to the evil one’s attempts to corrupt our hearts by making us proud, selfish, and ungrateful. Make us more like You, Jesus. In Your name we pray. Amen.

Have We Learned Anything?

Always be prepared to give an answer to anyone who asks you to give a reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect.” I Peter 3:15

Every Christian I know (including myself) struggles with this verse.

Being prepared to discuss spiritual matters involves diligent study of Scripture, and we often neglect this important discipline. We’re distracted, we’re “too busy,” or we’re just plain lazy. It also helps to know how to approach a subject logically and be informed about recent discoveries.

Those of us who want to be “nice” all the time are often not prepared to speak up and “give an answer” about our faith. We freeze up, afraid we’re going to “offend” someone, as if offending is the cardinal sin of Mankind. (Whatever the world may tell you, it is not...)

Others of us fall short of gentleness and respect. We’re bold and ready at any time to speak up, whether or not the audience is ready to hear us. We fail to take into account the person’s background, where (s)he may be emotionally, or even what (s)he is interested in. Often, we forget to pray for wisdom and sensitivity, so we plow full speed ahead with our speech, forgetting that “They won’t care how much you know, until they know how much you care.”

So, does anyone have all three of these qualities mastered? Probably not, but the person who seems to me to have come as close as anyone I know is the late Charlie Kirk.

Everyone, it seems, is talking about (ranting about, arguing about) Charlie. Whether or not I agree with absolutely everything he said (I doubt anyone does.), I do admire the way he lived out his faith in the way described in the opening verse.

*”Always being prepared” certainly involves doing one’s homework. Charlie never went to college, but he read hundreds of books and showed up prepare for an informed and intelligent discussion. He alluded to his knowledge of history, science, and statistics and used logic rather than emotional manipulation to persuade. He was ready to give a (valid) reason for the hope he had.

*He wasn’t lacking in courage to give an answer when asked about his faith; on the contrary, he went into environments where Christianity was met with disdain or downright hostility by the majority. (I wonder how many pastors would be willing to do that.) He didn’t avoid the other side, he reached out to them, engaging in civil discussion whenever allowed to do so.

*As for sharing the gospel with gentleness and respect, Charlie displayed the spiritual gift of self-control. In his Q & A sessions, most were polite in their questioning, some were rude, sarcastic, or unruly. But Charlie never (to my knowledge) lost his temper, yelled, or resorted to name calling or demonizing his opponents. He didn’t cut off, cancel, or shout down his opponents. In fact, anyone who disagreed with him was invited to the front of the line. (Kirk has been called a fascist, but I looked up the definition of “fascist,” and fascists do not give the mic to dissenters.)

The young man who shot him may or may not have had illusions of silencing him, but Charlie Kirk’s videos have gone viral. People who had never heard his name are listening to him share his beliefs, the most important being the way to God through Jesus Christ. What excites me is the number of people saying, “I’m an atheist, but today I bought my first Bible,” or “I stopped going to church years ago, but I’m going back this Sunday.” These comments are coming from all over the world. What Christian wouldn’t want to have that kind of impact?

Those of us who desire to evangelize our world can learn from watching and listening to him, whether we need more education, more heart, or more backbone.

Maybe you have criticism regarding some of the things Charlie did or didn’t say or the way he presented himself.

First, he wasn’t trying to present himself, he was trying to present Jesus.

Secondly, if you have a better way of doing it – by all means, get out and do it!

Prayer: Lord, we are so quick to judge others, whether out of irritation, pride, defensiveness, or envy. Take our eyes off the faults of others and onto You. We submit to You our own faults and thank You for forgiving us and giving us a fresh start every day. Help us to follow every good example in those who have gone before us and leave good examples for those who come after us, in Jesus’ name, amen.

Some Things Don’t Change

Then Jesus told his disciples, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it. For what will it profit a man if he gains the whole world and forfeits his soul? – Matthew 16:24-26

Stephen was a faithful follower of Jesus. He wasn’t one of the original Twelve. In fact, we don’t know whether he had ever encountered Jesus in the flesh. We do know that he was “full of the Spirit, faith, and wisdom,” and “God’s grace and power.” (Acts 6:3,5,&8)

Stephen had been one of seven men chosen to wait on tables, because the Grecian Jews had been complaining to the Hebraic Jews that their widows were being overlooked in the daily distribution of food (6:1) But he also “did great wonders and miraculous signs among the people.” (vs 8) We aren’t told what these were, but he got the attention of men from different provinces who gathered to oppose him. But as much as they argued with Stephen, “they could not stand up against his wisdom or the Spirit by whom he spoke.” (vs 9)

Since debating Stephen didn’t succeed, their next tactic was to stir up false witnesses against him. Their accusations spread quickly (Today we would say they went viral.). When the people were stirred up, they seized Stephen and took him to the Sanhedrin. (vs 12) There the false witnesses came forth and repeated their lies.

When it was finally Stephen’s turn to speak, he gave a lengthy and eloquent speech. He recounted the history of the Jewish people, beginning with God’s call to Abraham and continuing up to the building of the Temple by Solomon, after which he stated, “However, the Most High does not live in houses made by men,” (vs 48) quoting Isaiah for emphasis.

One could wonder why Stephen was allowed to speak for so long uninterrupted, but he was stating the truth right from the Scriptures – what could his opponents say?

But when he turned to the leaders and confronted them personally, he sealed his fate:

“You stiff-necked people, with uncircumcised hearts and ears! You are just like your ancestors: You always resist the Holy Spirit! Was there ever a prophet your ancestors did not persecute? They even killed those who predicted the coming of the Righteous One. And now you have betrayed and murdered him— you who have received the law that was given through angels but have not obeyed it.” (vs 51-53)

That was all it took. The infuriated leaders stoned Stephen for what he said. Even so, his last words were in prayer for those who were killing him, just as Jesus had prayed on the cross for His executioners.

Up until that time, for the most part, the fledgling Church had remained in Jerusalem, “praising God and enjoying the favor of all the people. And the Lord was adding to their number daily those who were being saved.” (Acts 2:47) Some call this the Church’s “honeymoon stage.” Life was pleasant and easy.

But after Stephen’s death, persecution broke out against the Church. As a result, believers scattered in all directions, taking the Gospel with them, telling the Good News wherever they went.

Which was what they were supposed to be doing do in the first place!

Charlie Kirk reminds me of Stephen, whose enemies could not refute what he said. Charlie always showed up prepared. He knew the Scriptures (in context!), he was logical, and he challenged opponents without losing his temper or resorting to name-calling or yelling. He clearly had self-control, one of the fruits of the Spirit. It wasn’t long before lies about him were being spread online, but one had only to watch a complete interview or Q&A session to see the kind of person he was – not perfect but living out his faith with everything he had.

Like the Church in the earliest days, the Church in America, unlike any other place or time in history, has enjoyed a rare level of freedom and, if not favor, at least a modicum of respect from the general population. As a result, many of us have grown complacent and spiritually lazy. If we doubt that, we have only to ask ourselves, “When was the last time I shared the gospel with an unbeliever?”

(But the Great Commission does not have an expiration date.)

Charlie Kirk was one of the exceptions. He didn’t wait for unbelievers to come to his church. He went to where they were, in an environment where people were open to new ideas and not afraid to challenge and be challenged. In a world where nastiness is too often the norm in “discussions,” Charlie encouraged civil discourse. And among Christians, millions of us watched his debates and cheered him on.

But just as Stephen was murdered by those who weren’t able to defeat him with words, Charlie Kirk was killed by one man who resorted to a gun instead of words to make his point. And from the level of public rejoicing over his death, it is apparent that there are many who believe violence is an acceptable way of solving differences. For us spoiled American Christians, this is a disturbing wakeup call.

But just as the persecution ignited by Stephen’s martyrdom caused the Church to finally carry out the Great Commission, Charlie Kirk’s assassination has awakened today’s sleeping, complacent Church. Countless believers, especially the young, are coming forward, inspired to be more like him and carry on his work of sharing the gospel boldly, respectfully, and intelligently.

We’re finally ready to start doing what we all were supposed to be doing all along.

The world hasn’t changed much in the last two thousand years. The Gospel hasn’t changed. Human nature hasn’t changed. And the Great Commission hasn’t changed.

Are we ready to get to work?

Prayer: Jesus, You have called us to take up our crosses and follow You. You ask us to do what takes strength and courage – more than we have in ourselves. But Your Spirit lives in us, and as You empower us, we are ready to be obedient. May the pain of last week’s tragedy be the birth pangs of revival in our nation and the world, in Jesus’ name. Amen.

The Cross Still Offends

The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. – John 1:5

The Cross Still Offends

by Pastor Rich Bitterman

The bullet tore the air in half.

A folding chair rattled. A Bible dropped. A young man slumped sideways beneath a white event tent, eyes wide with the weight of eternity.

It was supposed to be a conversation. A “prove me wrong” segment. But this time, rebuttal came not with words, but with a rifle.

Charlie Kirk didn’t get to finish his sentence.

I got the news just before prayer meeting. I contemplated this death as I prepared to lead the saints in prayer. But I didn’t feel like praying. Not tonight. My hands were still. My mouth was ready. But my soul was pacing. Angry. Grieving. Tempted.

Tempted to grow quiet. Tempted to sit this one out. Tempted to wonder if any of this, faith, boldness, public gospel witness, is still worth it.

Because hatred in this country isn’t simmering anymore. It is boiling.

Europe is trembling. Israel is burning. Rockets lit the sky over Gaza again. And now, here on American soil, the blood of a Christian apologist paints the pavement of a university quad.

What do you do with that?

What do you say when courage gets gunned down in daylight?

Charlie Kirk was no perfect man. None of us are.

But he had backbone where most of us don’t anymore. He was a believer. Unashamed. Unafraid. He understood that real conversations only happen when truth is welcome at the table. And the truth he carried most was Christ.

He brought the gospel into public space on purpose. Because the gospel isn’t supposed to stay in church basements and private Bible studies. It is meant to confront. It is supposed to offend. It was not made for safety.

The Word became flesh and they nailed Him to a tree.

So of course they came for Charlie.

Of course they reached for a gun.

This is what evil does when it runs out of arguments. It doesn’t reason. It kills.

That’s the part that catches in my throat. Not just the sadness, but the strategy of hell behind it.

The Enemy wants us afraid. He wants us to see what happened to Charlie and backpedal. He wants the rest of us to whisper, to soften the message, to believe the lie that faith should stay private.

But Christ never whispered. He preached in temples, on hillsides, in courtrooms, at dinner tables. And when they told Him to be quiet, He picked up His cross.

Not a symbolic one. A real one. Heavy. Bloody. Splintered.

When Jesus said, “Follow Me,” He didn’t hand out maps. He handed out crosses.

That’s what I remembered tonight.

I sat in our prayer space, surrounded by saints who had brought prayer lists and worn Bibles. And I realized I didn’t want to lead them in mourning. I wanted to lead them into battle. Not with banners or fists, but with open Bibles and tear-stained prayers.

The kind of war that kneels in gravel beside the wounded, hands them living water, and refuses to leave. The kind that speaks both mercy and judgment without flinching. The kind Charlie died for.

This world is not a friend to grace. But grace isn’t fragile.

“Who shall separate us from the love of Christ?” Paul didn’t leave that question unanswered.

“Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword?” —Romans 8:35

He piles up every fear you and I carry and then sets them on fire.

“No. In all these things we are more than conquerors.”

That means bullets don’t win. Slander doesn’t win. Prison bars don’t win. Death doesn’t win.

You can lose everything in this world and still walk into glory with your head lifted high. Because the love of God in Christ Jesus isn’t suspended by headlines or gunfire.

There are two worlds unfolding right now.

The one you see. And the one you don’t.

One is filled with chaos. The other is filled with crowns.

I believe that when Charlie Kirk’s body slumped to the concrete, his soul stood upright in heaven. Not limping. Not silenced. Not stunned. But crowned.

He didn’t fall. He crossed.

The great cloud of witnesses gained another voice. And I wonder if Stephen met him there. The first martyr. The man who got stoned for preaching what the crowd didn’t want to hear. The man who, in his final breath, saw the heavens open. The only time in all of Scripture we see Jesus standing at the right hand of God, rising to receive one of His own.

I like to believe He stood again.

Are you afraid?

Do you feel the tremble in your spirit?

Do you wonder if it’s still worth it to speak boldly, to carry your Bible, to preach the gospel in a world that doesn’t just disagree but wants you gone?

You’re not alone.

You’re not weak for feeling that. But you are called to something stronger than silence.

Don’t let fear become your theology.

The cost is high. But the reward?

The reward is Christ. And He’s not a concept. He’s a King.

Heaven is not empty.

It is filled with scarred saints who refused to bow to fear. Men who were stoned. Women who were burned. Children who sang while the flames climbed.

And every last one of them arrived.

There is no difficulty that can cancel the promise of God. There is no persecution that can derail your destination. There is no sniper’s bullet that can separate a soul from Christ.

Your life is not measured by how long you live on earth, but by how much of it was spent pointing to heaven.

Paul said, “I have fought the good fight… I have kept the faith.” Then he looked toward the reward. Not a monument. Not a mention in history books. But a crown. Handed to him by the One with nail marks still in His hands.

So let me say this clearly. We do not mourn like the world mourns. We do not write eulogies dripping with sentiment. We sing songs of resurrection. We carry the banner of a Kingdom that does not tremble.

Charlie Kirk did not die for nothing. He died carrying the same message you and I must now carry forward.

The cross stands tall. The tomb is still empty. And the gospel has not lost one ounce of power.

So pick up your cross. Wipe your eyes. And keep going.

The crown is worth it. The King is coming. And there’s still time to speak.

Even if they shoot.

Lord, give us courage. And if not safety, give us joy. For we carry not just the message, but the marks. And You are worth every bruise.

Prayer: Lord of eternity, give us the strength not to shrink back, not to slow down, but to follow You wholeheartedly, fearlessly. Help us to walk with You, run with You, and finish well. We thank You for the promise of eternal rewards in Heaven, most of all the promise of meeting You face to face and hearing the words, “Well done, good and faithful servant.” In Jesus’ name, amen.