It's your Blessing Day

In honour of all the fathers and grandfathers out there . . .  on Father's Day 2018. You are more of a blessing than you know . . .

You are asleep. The blinds are drawn and the room is dark in spite of the arrival of dawn outside. Suddenly, you are shaken awake . . . not roughly, but with some urgency. There is excitement in the Holy Spirit’s voice,

“Come quickly! It’s your blessing day”

“What’s going on?”

“Your father has chosen today. He is going to bless one of his children today and that child will be you!”

“But . . .”

“But nothing. Get dressed quickly. We need to work fast!”

In minutes, you are through the shower and dressed and you find the Holy Spirit in the kitchen. The shower has left your hair wet and your mind clear.

“I’m not sure what you are thinking. Father loves Jesus. He’s the eldest and he gets all the blessings.”

“Not today. Jesus left early this morning. He won’t be back for ages. He went hunting so he could prepare a meal for your father. We just need to be quick . . .”

“This doesn’t sound like a good idea . . .”

“Listen. We don’t have time for this. Go quickly and find the best goat you have in your flock. Skin it and bring me the meat as fast as you can. Hurry!”

You run down the path to the barn, worrying where this will all lead.

“Curly or Puddles? Which would taste better? Oh, of course. It has to be Bessy. She is a little younger and so her meat will be tenderer.”

You snatch Bessy from the flock and return back towards the house in urgent haste. You find the Holy Spirit in the kitchen and he has made it a hive of activity. There are chopped vegetables on the bench and a sauce simmering on the gas cooktop. Spice bottles and boxes of herbs are scattered all around. He is hard at work blending them in a mortar and pestle.

“Ahh. You’re back. Good! Do you have the goat meat?”

“Yes. I kept it on the bone.”

“Good. Now listen.”

You look up in apprehension and he takes you by the shoulders.

“Trust me, child. I know what I’m doing and believe me, this is the only way for you to be blessed. It has been in my heart for years but now we have the opportunity. Now we have to get you in costume.”

“Costume?”

“Yes, the Father has to believe you are Jesus . . .”

“But I can’t. That is impossible. There is no possible way the Father would think I am Jesus.”

“Difficult but not impossible, child. And we are well on our way.”

“Child, it doesn’t matter how you look but it matters a great deal how you feel and smell. Your father does not look on the outward appearance. He is blind to that. So tie that goatskin on your arms and legs and go run into the forest and roll around in the muck and foliage until you smell like Jesus.”

Twenty minutes you are back in the kitchen, panting and sweating. Your mind is a mess of fear and confusion.

“Just wonderful. Let me feel your arms.”

The Holy Spirit reaches out and sighs with satisfaction. He bends down and inhales deeply through his nose. Another sign and a cheeky grin, that is frightening under the circumstances.

The oven dings loudly and the Holy Spirit turns and pulls a dish from within it with an oven mitt on his right hand. He lays it on a board on the bench continuing to speak as he prepares the plate of food.

“This is your destiny, my child. It is how it’s meant to be. The only thing between your future and you is a simple act of courage. You are in costume, just stay in character. You have put on Christ but you need to take on his identity entirely if this is going to work! I know your father’s tastes like no other. He will enjoy this dish. This is going to be great. What’s more, look at you! You are ready. Everything is ready. Go take this dish to your father.”

You obey; shaking a little, you make your way down the hallway and knock on the door. The knock seems louder than usual. After all, what would Jesus do, right?

“Come in, child. I am ready for that meal.”

You step forward with the bowl outstretched as though something between you and your Dad might be a good idea.

“My Father.”

“Here I am. Who are you, my son?”

“I am Jesus your firstborn."

You really said that. You never thought that invoking the name of Jesus would come to this. You have come so far with the charade that who you are seems uncertain even to yourself.

“I have done as you told me; now sit up and eat my game, and bless me.”

“Ahh. That smells good, but you sure were quick. I would have thought you would take a few more hours.”

“Sure, but God helped me. He made it much easier.”

“Really?”

He turns his head to the side as if perplexed by something confusing and you begin thinking that the open door looks very inviting now.

“Come close; let me feel your arms. I want to make sure you are really Jesus.”

He reaches out and his fingers stroke the goatskin.

“It’s really quite strange. You have the arms of Jesus but your voice is that of another. Are you really Jesus?”

“I am!”

You father sighs contentedly, his apprehension gone. He places his hand on your shoulder and begins to bless you . . .

“See, the smell of my child is as the smell of a fertile and blessed field! May you have the dew of heaven and of the fullness of the earth and plenty of grain and wine. Let others serve you, and nations bow down to you. Be lord over your brothers and sisters. May they bow down to you as well. Cursed be everyone who curses you, and blessed be everyone who blesses you!”

As he speaks, you look up into his wrinkled face and there is so much affection written there. His love reaches out to you, as it never has before. This is how Jesus must feel all the time, you think to yourself. All the kindness in his unseeing eyes and the words declared over you have gotten under your skin. You feel your emotions rising . . .

He pauses.

“That is all I have to give. You have it all, beloved child. Now, how about some of that stew?”

The bowl has grown heavy during the long wait and you gladly hand it over, your pulse racing as you watch him eat.

It’s done! The Holy Spirit was right. It was not impossible. Wow!

However, elation shatters as a realisation of the consequences of your actions sweeps over your mind.

“What about Jesus? This is some kind of terminal blasphemy! I’m as good as dead.”

You thank your father and leave hurriedly, and you run, fast and hard. Your legs burn and your lungs cry out in pain - terror drives you on, until the darkness of the night swallows the path until you can go no further.

Emotionally and physically exhausted you fall to the ground. You could sleep anywhere tonight and that is helpful because where you lie is the only choice you have. Even a rock for a pillow seems strangely inviting. Sleep takes you quickly and for hours are deeply in its embrace, and then . . .

You awake with a start. It is the middle of the night but things are bright and you seem surrounded by unfamiliar noises. Looking around, you gasp aloud!

Angels – a lot of angels, in fact. They are walking up and down a translucent staircase just meters away from where you have been sleeping. It winds up and up as if it goes all the way to heaven.

It does not occur to you that this is about you and what you have done this very day. You think that you have stumbled on an especially sacred place, but they are not here because of a place. They are here for you. They have come with the blessings that your father just hours before has spoken over you and released into your life.

The angels are ascending and descending on a person and that person is you! It’s your blessing day and they are delivering a whole different kind of life to you!. Favour will follow you now. There will be no lack. No one will be able to stand against you anymore. The angels are setting all of that in place around you.

Slowly it dawns on you. The kingdom of God has come and his will is being released all around you. You have become an epicentre of that kingdom on earth. You carry a mantle of blessing and all those close to you, and those who come and go in your life, will feel its touch.

It has been a great day. Congratulations, it is your blessing day today.

---

This story is one of my favourites, a wonderful instruction manual on how to receive from the Father. One thing it portrays so well is the level of hesitation that can be present in our minds as we come to Him - apprehension and fear that we are undeserving. We are well aware that it is Jesus and not ourselves that deserves all the blessings the Father has to offer. Yet we feel the Holy Spirit’s prompting to enter in and take what rightfully belongs his the only beloved son. We feel unworthy. We feel like we don’t deserve anything at all.

Ephesians chapter one sees us seated with Christ in heavenly places so we can be blessed. We are actually in the beloved – Clothed with Christ himself. The mystical reality of us being in Christ perfects the picture of Jacob with his makeshift Esau costume. The feel and savour of Christ all around us overwhelms the senses of the Father. He loves Christ so much and has so much blessing for him that he instinctively and eagerly showers it all on us.

One important limitation of this picture is our relationship with Jesus. Unlike Esau, he is totally for us and not affronted at all by us taking the blessings that rightfully belong to him. He has always been on board with the plan. We cannot do it without his cooperation. In fact, no one comes to the Father except through him!

When we are in Christ, the Father sees no difference between Christ and us. He is not blind in a physically limiting way but we should not underestimate the power of our union with our Saviour. What would it mean if we identified with Christ as much as Jacob identified as Esau? What would it mean for our relationship with the Father if we could meet him on these terms and forget about our identity, history and inadequacies, full embracing our character and role. . . 

---

This is an excerpt from a book we plan to release in early 2019.

- PICTURES OF MY FATHER -

What happens when we chase through scripture in an attempt to uncover every glimpse of Father God to be found there? Sign up to stay in touch and be the first to know when it will be available. In the meantime, look out for a few more tastes of what's inside as it gets closer to publication.

Switching Sides

A small boy heads out in the boat with his father. As he joins him in his work for the first time the anticipation of many weeks pours out of his mouth, peppering the capable angler with a barrage of questions. Before the sun goes down a thousand why’s have been asked and answered, and the process of passing a trade from one generation to the next has begun.

Now, the boy has grown; his skill with boat and tackle is as good as any in the region. But tonight, his nets are empty, and as Peter and his friends near the shore, he is especially downcast. There's not a fish to show for the long night’s work.

And then, an apparently random guy appears on the beach and shouts advice. 

Amazing how even though his trade was carpentry, Jesus has the audacity to tell these seasoned fishermen how to do their job.

Even more amazing is that Peter does not bristle; in fact, though many would have taken offense, Peter's humble response when things were not going well does him credit. Here is how the Bible tells the story:

Simon Peter said, 'I’m going fishing.'

'We’ll come too,' they all said.

So they went out in the boat, but they caught nothing all night.

At dawn Jesus was standing on the beach, but the disciples couldn’t see who he was.

He called out, 'Fellows, have you caught any fish?' 

'No,' they replied.

Then he said, 'Throw out your net on the right-hand side of the boat, and you’ll get some!'

So they did, and they couldn’t haul in the net because there were so many fish in it.

Then the disciple Jesus loved said to Peter, 'It’s the Lord!'

When Simon Peter heard that it was the Lord, he put on his tunic (for he had stripped for work), jumped into the water, and headed to shore. The others stayed with the boat and pulled the loaded net to the shore, for they were only about a hundred yards from shore. When they got there, they found breakfast waiting for them—fish cooking over a charcoal fire, and some bread.

'Bring some of the fish you’ve just caught,' Jesus said.

So Simon Peter went aboard and dragged the net to the shore. There were 153 large fish, and yet the net hadn’t torn.  (John 21:3-11 NLT)

'Daddy, why do we always cast the net over the left side of the boat?' 

It was his forty-third question sitting comfortably between an inquiry about why the sails flutter whenever the boat turns and another concerning the squawking of the circling gulls. 

His father responded with a smile.

'You see me sitting here facing forward. I am near to the rope that controls the sail and I can reach the arm of the rudder. I cannot move too far from here without losing control of the boat. But see, that means my right arm is free. My right arm is strong – much stronger than the other is. As I face forward, I can throw much easier from right to left. It is awkward to cast the other way. Then, it is even more important to be using that side when you have a haul of fish. Look Peter; try to pull the net in a little across your body. Yes. Now turn around and try pulling the net in now. Use your right hand . . . your stronger arm. See what I mean.' 

It made perfect sense, and he never asked that question again. In fact, Peter had never seen a net on the right side of the boat. That was not how a man went about fishing.

On a whim and with little to lose they cast the net over the right side as directed by the stranger, and the water beside the boat immediately erupted with flicking tails and glistening fish leaping upward to escape the crush of those beneath. 

For Peter and the others to obtain their miracle that morning they needed to change hands; needed to move out of step with their usual ways of getting the job done.

That morning, Peter did something he'd never done before. He cast the net with his left arm. 

It was not the sheer volume of fish alone that made it difficult to haul in the catch. Everything was backwards for these fishermen. There they were in the midst of a miracle, trying to deal with the enormous catch, operating out of a position of weakness rather than strength.

It reminds me of the architecture of medieval castles. Medieval castle staircase were often built in a clockwise spiral, because if an intruder entered the castle and ascended the tower, their sword would have to be wielded with their left arm; while the occupants fending them off from above had the advantage of a greater range of movement and the ability to fend off attack by wielding their swords with their right hands. The very structure of the stairwells diminished the ability of attackers to swing their swords - a right-handed fighter would have to contend with the walls while making their striking motions, cutting down on their ability to manoeuvre and giving the castle’s defenders a much-needed advantage. If an attacker were to neutralize the defenders advantage, he must be able to change hands.

The wisdom of God is foolishness to men. The enemy knows that we are prone to think we are have it all figured out. All he has to do to set us up for a fruitless night of fishing is draw all the fish to the right hand side of the boat. 'They will never try that side,' he thinks with satisfaction.

Then God speaks: 'My strength is made perfect in weakness. I can do more with you when you favor your weaker arm, when you are a little off balance and more focused on obedience than adequacy.'

You see, we exist in two worlds. Our connection to the natural, physical world is the one we favor, much like the way we favor our right hand. Many of us barely think of operating spiritually, much as we would hardly consider using our left hand. The physical seems more reliable and comfortable. We default to our strength. Using natural means to do our work has become nearly involuntary.

“He’s asking us to use a side of us we may be weaker in . . . to operate spiritually rather than physically.”

But there are times when God's people face a challenge, and though we have defaulted to natural means, approaches and resources, it has yielded no results. But then we hear the voice of Jesus, declaring that our miracle is within easy reach - but to receive it we need to use what does not seem natural. He's asking us to use a side of us we may be weaker in, less confident, perhaps, to operate spiritually rather than physically. He's asking us to pray rather than perform, contend rather than control, worship rather than worry.

The lifestyle of miracles that we long for requires the kind of spiritual confidence that comes out of switching hands so frequently that we can operate effortless with either – learning to live as a native of both the natural and heavenly realms.

Everyday Miracles - two verses that changed the game

Over and over this year, I have been reflecting on two small verses in a Psalm I had never really noticed before. Now, just so you know, faith comes fairly easy to me. And yet, these words have challenged my idea of a lifestyle of faith, and six months in, I am still not done trying to live in light of these two verses.

“When I said, ‘my foot is slipping,’
Your unfailing love, Lord, supported me.
When anxiety was great within me,
Your consolation brought me great joy.”

— Psalm 94:18-19

These words are sweet, of course, but they stopped me in my tracks for a whole other reason. Suddenly, I realised that it was only when the natural props in my life fail me that I am aware and conscious of the invisible safety net that has been there all along, unappreciated and the last thing on my mind - the Lord's unfailing love supporting me.

A simple thought came to me when I read these verses.

What would it look like if I put aside all my focus and trust in so many things that are so prone to fail me and just allow the unfailing love of God to be my safety net?

What if I stopped fussing about getting all my ducks in a row and instead lived completely conscious of His unfailing love as my only security?

“I distilled it in two ways:
‘Stop Resolving Everything’
and
‘Walk Away from the Boat’”

I distilled it down for myself in two ways: 'Stop resolving everything, Jeff!' and  'Walk away from the boat and not toward it.'

In a fumbling and bumbling way I tried it on for size. It was not easy or comfortable, especially for a 'Mr Fix-it' type of guy like myself. Trying to stop the knee-jerk default reactions to grasp onto natural solutions for every problem within the family was not easy for me. As the months have passed by this year I have felt myself being turned inside out by this very simple idea. 

Then came a proliferation of ordinary garden-variety miracles, small and easy to miss, but so anticipated when you have put aside the usual ways of getting everything sorted.

Let me tell you about my post-it notes. You see what is in my 'brain' is represented by a mass of yellow sticky notes that lie between my computer keyboard and screen - things I need to remember to do, good ideas, and most of all my issues. Right now one of these post-it notes says the word 'plumber.' That one is about the two toilets in our home that are on the blink. Another mentions something financial that needs resolving in our business . . . and so on. I find it's good for the soul when I action the post-it's, screw each piece of paper up and bin it with a flourish when something is done!

Then, as I was working one day, the Lord interrupted me with the words, 'bits of paper.' I had no I idea what He was talking about for a while - it felt like I was playing some strange sort of game of charades with the Almighty.

And then I got it. He had come to let me know that he wanted to take responsibility for my collection of post-it notes.

As a result, I've changed the look of my notes. Now, when I write my concern or reminder, I divide the note in two with a diagonal line. One part has the date and the issue I need resolved and the other side stays blank until I get my miracle. Then, when it's all resolved, I write the date and details of the everyday miracle there on the note, and stick it into a book I have kept aside for the purpose.

When I look inside my book I see one example after another. I have a motorcycle which could do to be kept in a garage. Only, our garage right now is doubling as my eldest son's bedroom as well as a kind of teen hangout room with a ping-pong table, Xbox and lounges. There's no room for my motorbike in there. And this was worrying me because motorbikes don't like being in the rain all the time and it would be the understatement of the year to say it rains a lot in Wellington, New Zealand. So I wrote down 'motorcycle' on a post-it with a diagonal line and waited.

A few days later I dropped in on one of my mates who has a bike as well and as we talked, I mentioned my garaging problem. 'Wait a minute,' he said, and then for the next twenty minutes he went on the hunt for a motorcycle cover he had been given and never uses - something I had not even thought of as a solution. The next day I put the cover over my motorcycle and filled out the other side of the paper. The Lord's unfailing love had come through for me again, but in a sweet and simple way that hardly looked like a miracle at all!

In the juggle of life, I realized, I had become so averse to anything going wrong that I made sure I only had a few balls in the air at any one time.

No risk. No complexity. Keep it all tight and doable and safe!

But what God has taught me through this is that as more balls get added into the act that is my life, when it feels like my feet are slipping out from under me, when the small stuff piles up, that's exactly when I need to fall back, not on my better management, but on His unfailing love. The more stuff that is up in the air the more He has to use! 

“It’s like offering Him a larger hand when He is playing cards with my life as the stake.”

His infinite intellect can find (amongst what I would see as chaos) a bunch of miraculous and wonderful resolutions that are invisible to my eye and my mind as He works everything for good in my life. Its like offering him a larger hand when He is playing cards with my life as the stake. The less I do to resolve it all, I've found, the more He has to work with.

Alone in the Fight – Or Not

Isn't it the case that the most challenging moments in our lives can leave us feeling isolated and alone? We find ourselves up against something we barely understand, acutely conscious that we are out of our depth and yet help can seem of reach. Impossibility stares us down. We pray. We fight. We do what we can. And yet we still end up describing these moments as silent battles or quiet struggles. Why is it that our most challenging times so often see us cast in a scene as a lone character pitted against unreasonable odds? Is it true? In the fight, are we really on our own? 

“Why is it that our most challenging times . . . see us cast in a scene as a lone character pitted against unreasonable odds?”

Anya and I have been leading others in prayer ministry for a number of years now. Our lounge room has born witness to a number of great breakthrough moments emerging out of times where the Holy Spirit takes over – identifying strongholds and their roots, gently plotting a course through difficult memories, healing wounds and breaking chains. And now that we've done this awhile, it's become obvious that there are some go-to strategies of the Enemy - strategies he uses repeatedly, on one person after another, time after time. 

One standout is a stronghold that the Holy Spirit calls Rejection. Maybe a third of the people we have prayed with have carried this same wound. Rejection, when it is operating, leaves us feeling abandoned and cast away - alone in the fight.

However, if this issue is so common, are we really on our own in this battle? Or could it be that multitudes of people are facing the assault of a common enemy, who continually uses the same strategy to harm us? If that is the case then the reality shifts. We are not are not truly alone. We are, instead, part of a huge company of people battling Rejection, though we may not see our allies in the turmoil of a hard-fought battle.

Our spiritual adversaries have endured for thousands of years. They do not touch a single life - instead, they bring their poison and pain wherever there is the opportunity. But think of it - there are others out there also taking a swing at the very foe we are, bringing the same heart and intent, pushing back to overcome the same challenge. Coordinated by the same Commander, and as we unknowingly work in partnership, our strength is added to each other's and we get to prevail!

“As we contend . . . we can be sure there are many others joining us, coming against the same foe, bringing the same inetent, pushing back against the same challenge.”

I think some of our most common Enemies - Fear, Rejection, Shame, Loneliness - they've spanned history and geography, all of them gradually succumbing to the blows of an army of faithful men and women down through the centuries from every place throughout the Earth. The reality is that some dark spirit that I oppose today might also have also received a wound from one of the great men or women of the Bible along the way; it's being weakened by the day, as God's people around the globe say 'enough is enough,' and rise up to overcome.

So, when I combat Sickness (capitalization intentional) in my family and you do the same in yours, we are working together. Because these foes persist from one generation to the next, I can fight against the same enemy that you face, or even one that opposed a Bible hero from millennia ago. Take Infertility for instance. As we face up to that heinous beast and fight to overcome him, notice the chips in his armor and cuts on his flanks!

Look there! Rebecca took a swing at that! Rachel gave her life to overcome him a second time and left awful wounds in his hide! Sarah cut a deep gash there! Hannah broke his helmet and Elizabeth is responsible for the gaping injury on his tail! He has fallen once, twice, so many times and just take heart - Infertility will succumb to your attack as well!

The nature of the reign of Christ is such that he will reign until he has put all of his enemies under his feet - and from the moment Christ ascended to the throne until today, he has made progress to that end. Some enemies are already under his feet, some are weakening, and soon our united attack will see them fall forever. The last chapter of Romans says that we can look forward to our enemies soon finding their place under our feet. Amazingly, our purpose and the purpose of the rule and reign of Christ is the same. Our battle is his and his fights in part are ours. 

“Our purpose, and the purpose of the rule and reign of Christ are the same.”

Three times in two chapters, Elijah speaks the words, 'I alone am left.' - it seems his descent into depression and discouragement is profound, even as miracles and tremendous revelation surround him. Nevertheless, those were the words in his head and on his lips, and they could well have been responsible for shutting down his spectacular and glorious ministry. Yet all the while, those words were blatantly untrue. In fact, God had thousands of faithful allies reserved for himself. Elijah was not alone - and neither are we. Maybe it is time for us to look up and fight with the hope and energy that flows into those who see the nearness of a shared victory.

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Moving Mountains

Moving Mountains

I'm picturing Jesus there, instructing his disciples in the art of moving mountains. Moving mountains, of all things! The picture is confounding, despite the familiarity of His words . . .

Jesus replied, “Truly I tell you, if you have faith and do not doubt . . . you can say to this mountain, ‘Go, throw yourself into the sea,’ and it will be done. 

 Matthew 21:21 (NIV)

We Jesus-followers love to sing about taking on the mountains that stand in the way of our inheritance or calling; we lift our hearts with songs when we face insurmountable odds that block our way. And we can all recognise them. The big issues that bar our way.  These are not everyday trifles that can be shifted with natural intervention or with a single prayer. These are the problems that make us gasp at their magnitude, that steal away our hope, and sometimes even leave us reeling with unanswered questions about the heart of God toward us and the ones we love.

And Jesus wades into all that potential despair and impossibility and suggests that mountains can be moved. That they are ours to move, in fact.

If we're going to move mountains, then clearly we need the right perspectives and the right approach.

It takes faith to identify the mountains that Jesus was talking about - that is not necessarily challenging, but it does take a Christian to think this way. It takes another level of maturity and discernment to have a sense that, in fact, our problems have spiritual substance to them, making them measurable, finite and able to be tackled spiritually. 

Nearly a decade ago, I was moving several trailer-loads of smelly compost via wheelbarrow into some new garden beds we had built. After several hours my pen-pusher muscles were complaining and still I had made only a small dent in the mounds of soil. Perhaps it was the stench or simply the sheer amount of work I was faced with, but the comparisons between these piles of soil and the mountains that we need moved in our life was not lost on me. It all comes down to patience, persistence and using the right tools.

“We need spiritual means to shift what are, essentially, spiritual problems.”

The reality is, we need spiritual means to shift what are essentially, spiritual problems. That observation drove me forward in hope and into some key overcoming moments in my life across the intervening years.

The other day as I was on my way out the door to go for a walk at lunchtime, I felt the Lord prompt me with an interesting question: 'What is a mountain?'   As I rode the elevator down to the ground floor I did a quick search on my phone. It turns out that the word Jesus used in the original language (oros) means 'mountain' or 'hill' or 'rise.'. No surprise there. 'Looks like the translators got it correct,' I figured. Not wanting to respond to the Almighty with a shrug though, I pressed in deeper. The Lord was trying to teach me something, and so I dug around a bit more. And then, I understood . . .

The word for mountain conveys a sense of rising up. Related words are even used in the context of bird flight. Yes, 'mountain' in Greek means 'mountain,' but instead of having an underlying sense of weight and immovability, these mountains that block our way might be better understood as being light on their feet! There is a sense of upward movement in the word Jesus uses, as though these mountains are intentionally rising up to obstruct our way. They are literally an uprising against us.

And so I began to wonder - what would happen if we stopped calling the seemingly insurmountable issues in our lives, mountains, and started calling them uprisings instead?

“I wonder what would happen if we stopped calling them mountains and started calling them uprisings instead?”

Because speaking to an object that is by definition unmovable, and expecting it to move, is one thing. Speaking to an entity that has risen up with the intent to obscure and obstruct our way is quite another. It is much more intuitive to speak to an uprising that has sprung up, and direct it to rise up again so as to move aside, than it is to talk to a towering, solid, mass. In other words, we can move the mountains in the spiritual realm because it is in their nature to move! It is no more difficult for them to rise up and shift out of our path at our word as it was for them to rise up and take their place on our path in the first place! 

And so I'm left with with fresh hope. This command of Jesus isn't about gritty determination in the face of the impossible. It's all about us rising in authority to command every obstacle, every hindrance, everything that rises up against us, to clear out of the way so that Christ our king may rule and reign in our lives.

He Leads Them Out

We're coming to the end of this series - reflections on the very delightful and gently powerful words of the most well-known chapter in the Bible. Psalm twenty-three. All the way through we've been listening to the voice of a Shepherd, and yet he's been writing all along from the perspective of the sheep. 

The entire Psalm has been a punctuated by divine encounters, and, now, at the end, we are left wondering, "How is it that an Old Testament character had it so good?" Is it possible that now that Jesus has come He could be offering something even better than a Psalm 23 experience?

And so we ask Him. Jesus? What do you think of Psalm 23? How can you possibly top that?

He grins at our naivety. "Oh", he murmurs to no-one in particular. "What a great question!" And then He looks us in the eye, works with those ancient words, and begins to explain from that the whole Psalm is, in fact, speaking of Him! We lean in close; there's a heartwarming moment to be had, and now we get to hear what He has to say . . .

"You know", he remarks. "I am the good shepherd that David was talking about."

Yes, we nod. That's precious. We knew that. 

But Christ does not linger long on how it feels to be the Shepherd or proceed to tell us what Shepherding is like from his point of view. Instead, in a beautiful twist, He is anxious to invite us into an experience of our own. Now He too is talking from the perspective of the sheep.

'My sheep hear my voice and they know me.'

These well-known words are not just a general invitation to live a life of responsiveness to the voice of God. It is an invitation, yes, but with a very specific objective in mind. We are welcomed in . . . just as David was, to a place where abundant provision and care are the order of the day. It comes as a shock to realise that the allure of that age-old poem is not just an unattainable dream. It is a reality laying within arms reach.

His voice rings out over the noise that is our life.

'I have come that you might have life and have it abundantly. I have come that you might live your life to the full.' 

His sheep hear and run in the direction of the voice of the one they trust most of all. And he leads them out. He leads them out of their limitations, disappointment and lack. He goes before them as they move from a barren field and into a lush pasture. He draws them into the presence of the Father, into His house. It stands to reason. After all, He is the way . . . no one comes to the Father but by Him. He is the one who prepares a place for us and then comes again. He is the one who receives us unto himself so that where He is we can be also.

The book of Hebrews gently echoes the Christ encounter of John 10. The readers of that letter were not doing well. They were making do with a natural version of Christianity. It was a tough white-knuckle ride. They had lived through horrible persecution for their faith and had suffered much for owning his name. Holding on was so difficult that they were considering turning their backs on everything! Anxiously looking on from a distance the author pleads with them, 'If you hear his voice, don't harden your heart.'

He's taken the good shepherd's invitation to enter in, and He's bringing it to them. His voice was there to guide them from what wasn't working for them into much-deserved rest. And even so, there was a very real possibility that their hearts, long calloused from too much pain and waiting in vain, would respond with only a cynical grunt of disbelief when the Saviour came to call them out. 

But Psalm 23 is for us, and so is John 10, and so is Hebrews 3.

He leads us out and we learn the way, and then a singular encounter turns into a lifestyle of coming and going between this world and the world that is unseen, yet so real. We go in and out to find pasture at will. The welcome is a permanent one. We get to draw near whenever we desire because that place is our true home. There is always a welcome for us in our Father's house! His presence is effortlessly accessible. It is as if the blessings of heaven are always so near at hand so that the only way to describe it is this:

'goodness and mercy follow us all the days of our lives!'

 

READ THE REST OF THE SERIES:

Interludes that Ensure Success (Psalm 23 Series Pt 1)

The Overflowing Cup (Psalm 23 Series Pt 2)

What's in the Cup? (Psalm 23 Series Pt 3)

and

The Realm that has no need of Austerity Measures (A Psalm 23 Reflection by Anya McKee)

What's in the Cup?

 

'. . . my cup overflows'

PSALM 23:5

So David, the warrior king, lifts his cup right there on the battlefield. He's recognised the presence of the Lord, he's stepped into a place of rest and refreshment, and it's not bothering him a bit that the Host of this whole other-worldly picnic, who simply offered to refill his cup, now stands before him and continues to pour, despite the obvious - his cup has now overflowed, and whatever's in the pitcher is now spilling all around him.

What is it, I wonder, that is so plentiful in the heavenlies, so abundant, perhaps, in its supply, that it can be poured out without any thought for waste or excess? My mind goes to New Testament 'excessive language': peace that passes understanding; joy unspeakable and full of glory; love that passes knowledge. The peace I find there can't be understood in light of my circumstances. The joy available to me cannot be explained in terms of natural cause and effect. I can never fathom with human knowledge the love that comes to me straight from my Father's heart. Something incredible is going on. It's as if an everyday serve of love, joy and peace is insufficient for people who dwell with Christ. Paul's doing away with any hint of 'I'm doing okay, under the circumstances' response; in its place he hints that there's more on offer - and in so doing he's decoupling us from being subject to the stresses and demands of the here and now.

“It’s as if an everyday serve of love, joy and peace is insufficient for people who dwell with Christ”

We don't have to try too hard to imagine a set of circumstances that leave us without any physical way to feel love. We know that the need we feel in that void of love can drive us to do things that are uncharacteristic, destructive and regrettable. And in the end, it rarely accomplishes much and the loneliness and isolation close in anyway.

But as it turns out, Heaven's resources are not limited by what is happening around us. Every spiritual blessing in Christ is is on offer regardless of how our week is panning out.

We are not dependent on the level of affirmation that we are receiving or how we are treated. We can enter in and go straight to the true source of love, joy or peace . . . and come out a living paradox. Our overflowing cup means that those around us will feel will feel the effects of what we have experienced. We have enough for ourselves, and also for others. Incredibly, the flow of things is always from the Heavens to the Earth. Eventually, this kind of lifestyle will bend our circumstances so they line up with the heavenly reality we are living out.

Love is difficult to manufacture here. Peace can be even more difficult at times. Joy is perhaps the most elusive thing on Earth. But for us, they are not far away. They are readily accessible in abundant quantities . . . according to his riches in Christ Jesus . . . He is lavishing on us . . . every spiritual blessing in heavenly places. 

READ THE REST OF THE SERIES!

Interludes that Ensure Success (Psalm 23 Series Pt 1)

The Overflowing Cup (Psalm 23 Series Pt 2)

He Leads the out (Psalm 23 Pt 4)

and

The Realm that Has No Need Of Austerity Measures (a Psalm 23 Reflection by Anya McKee)

The Overflowing Cup

There's no doubt Psalm 23 is loved by people throughout the world; it's long been a source of comfort in bereavement, depression, sickness and sadness, and the go-to text for many a funeral service. Strangely, its images of divine care have the power to console even those who have lost touch with faith. It seems that David’s experience and its aftertaste is an antidote for whatever difficult circumstance reader finds themselves in.

And indeed, the imagery is incredible, calling us in to slow down and reflect.

Green pastures  -  Quiet Waters  -  Paths of Righteousness  -  The Shadow of Death  -  A Rod and a Staff  -  A Prepared Table  -  Anointing Oil  -  An Overflowing Cup

And that's where I stop a moment - at the picture of the overflowing cup. 

Something within me doesn't like the idea at all. For a start, most of us we've have had excessiveness trained out of us. I mean, who among us would we ever sit down with a friend and purposely fill their cup with coffee or tea until it overflowed over onto the coffee table or spilled into a puddle on the carpet? In our minds, that would be a complete accident, a situation that would make both host and guest equally anxious, possibly embarrassed. It's certainly not a scene we'd care to repeat.

“By and large, we’ve had the excessiveness trained out of us.”

And here is where the culture of heaven is so opposite to ours. In the heavenlies, there's always excess; always abundance. In the unseen realm, lack is noticeably absent and lavish is a way of life. There's no 'half-full' or 'nearly full' scenarios in heaven. There, an overflowing cup is not a source of panic - it's a source of delight! And so, David holds out his cup before him. His Host serves him once again, and as usual, the level rises and the liquid sloshes over the rim in a way that is bizarrely gratifying.

It's the overflowing cup, the outpouring of it all, that makes the difference. As David steps back into 'real life', a new dynamic comes into play. David has not simply had his own needs met. He's been refreshed, and his situation has turned around, for sure, but there's something more.  He's been in the presence of the Lord, and he's received such a lavish outpouring that there's more than he can contain. He emerges, not just with his need for personal restoration met. Now he's a man with something left to give. 

“We live in a culture of ‘enough and to spare.’”

— Torn Curtain Living

Paul uses this language to communicate the paradox of living and serving out of a heavenly encounter: We are . . .

“sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; poor, yet making many rich; having nothing, and yet possessing everything”. 1 Cor 6: 10

It is the miraculous nature of the kingdom that weakness turns to a stunning display of strength, where those who are running low themselves end up pouring out of an abundance to those around them. We live in a culture of 'enough and to spare!'

READ THE REST OF THE SERIES!

Interludes that Ensure Success (Psalm 23 Series Pt 1)

What's in the Cup? (Psalm 23 Series Pt 3)

He Leads them out (Psalm 23 Pt 4)

and

The Realm that Has No Need Of Austerity Measures (a Psalm 23 Reflection by Anya McKee)

Interludes that Ensure Success

Green pastures and quiet waters. David was reflecting on his lifestyle - one that included supernatural moments of sanctuary that restored his soul. I love the poignant imagery of Psalm 23 – no lack, quiet rest, an overflowing cup and a table spread. It's the prepared table that most captures my imagination though because this isn't a table prepared for a family meal at the end of the day or a table prepared for a nice celebration dinner. This table is set in the middle of a battle. Set right there in the presence of his enemies.

The Psalm conjures up a vivid scene. Here is a great king with armies to lead and a battle not yet won. He's in the midst of fierce conflict. Utterly focused, I see him engrossed with the defeat of the enemy in front of him.

Yet in that moment of exhilaration and exhaustion, desperation and determination, dread and even disgust, something other-worldly takes place. David feels unnerved at first; a strange wave of peace is sweeping slowly towards him, disturbing the regular ring of steel on steel. A mounting silence builds, interrupting the final gasps of dying men and the cries of horror David has become so accustomed to at times like this. He tries to shake it off, but it's real. The quiet has distracted him as much as it has ruined the concentration of his quarry. Even the enemy seems to have wearily disengaged from the fight. 

Then, striding across the battlefield, He came, striding forward with carefree steps, holding a picnic hamper in one hand and a blanket in the other. Opposing sides step back to allow Him passage, resting silently on their swords with heads bowed. By the time of His arrival, the whole field is pin-drop still. It's the Lord - the Lord who is Strong in Battle - coming to a stop right there, in the midst of the carnage, finding an open place, spreading the blanket, unpacking the hamper and beckoning to David.

“It’s the Lord . . . coming to a stop right there, in the midst of the carnage.”

The young king made his way over to join Him, seated on the ground. There, for him to take his fill of, is joy, food, drink, and rest. He soon felt revived, refreshed, restored. Soon enough the battle is re-joined but David is not the same man. Earlier he had just been surviving the day. Now, victory was sure, irrespective of what challenges the remainder of the day might bring. 

“How is it that (urgent crises) have the power to intimidate us so that a simple break or even a lapse of attention seems like an unreasonable luxury?”

All of us have urgent crises scattered through our days. They call for our undivided attention and quickly wear us down. How is it that they have the power to intimidate us so that a simple break or even a lapse of attention seems an unreasonable luxury? Amazingly, David, with his life on the line, perceives the presence of the Lord and finds the focus to step away from the urgency of the moment for a heavenly encounter. That choice served not to hinder his effectiveness. Instead, it ensured his success.

READ THE REST OF THE SERIES!

The Overflowing Cup (Psalm 23 Series Pt 2)

What's in the Cup? (Psalm 23 Series Pt 3)

He Leads the out (Psalm 23 Pt 4)

and

The Realm that Has No Need Of Austerity Measures (a Psalm 23 Reflection by Anya McKee)