Sterling Words: October 2015

Thursday, October 29, 2015

Rescued

“Those who live in the shelter of the Most High will find rest in the shadow of the Almighty. This I declare of the Lord: He alone is my refuge, my place of safety; he is my God, and I am trusting him. For he will rescue you from every trap and protect you from the fatal plague. He will shield you with his wings. He will shelter you with his feathers. His faithful promises are your armor and protection. Do not be afraid of the terrors of the night, nor fear the dangers of the day, nor dread the plague that stalks in darkness, nor the disaster that strikes at midday. Though a thousand fall at your side, though ten thousand are dying around you, these evils will not touch you. But you will see it with your eyes; you will see how the wicked are punished. If you make the Lord your refuge, if you make the Most High your shelter, no evil will conquer you; no plague will come near your dwelling. For he orders his angels to protect you wherever you go. They will hold you with their hands to keep you from striking your foot on a stone. You will trample down lions and poisonous snakes; you will crush fierce lions and serpents under your feet! The Lord says, "I will rescue those who love me. I will protect those who trust in my name. When they call on me, I will answer; I will be with them in trouble. I will rescue them and honor them. I will satisfy them with a long life and give them my salvation." (Ps. 91:1-16)

I casually glanced at the sign as I drove past, but wasn’t sure that I’d actually seen what I’d just read. So, I drove back around for a second look. The announcement, taped to a wooden post, had a homemade look to it: yellow paper, thick letters and a picture. Rural neighbors in my community print and post all sorts of fliers. So, the sign didn't surprise me, but the words did. “Found: Potbellied Pig” Two phone numbers followed – one to call during the day, and another to call at night. I'd never seen an announcement like that. Similar ones, sure. “Found: Black Retriever” or “Found: Pygmy Goat.” But "Found: Potbellied Pig"? Who loses a pig? Better yet, who owns a pig that sounds like a stove?

I know plenty of pet owners, but pet-pig owners? None that I can recall. Can you imagine caring for a pig? For instance, do pig owners invite dinner guests to pet their pig? Do they hang a sign on the gate: "Caution! Potbelly on Patrol"? This kind of pig owner must be a special breed, just like their pet. But the people who would rescue them? They’ve got to be another breed altogether, because the sign presupposes a curious moment – that someone would spot the pig lumbering down the road and think, "Poor thing. Climb in little piggy. The street is no place for a lonely sow like you. Come here. I'll take you home." Or, suppose one appeared on your porch. Upon hearing a snort at your front door, would you open it? A Yellow Lab? You bet. Cocker Spaniel? Absolutely. But a potbellied pig? Sorry. I'd leave him on the Jericho Road. I wouldn't claim one. But God would. And God did. God did when he claimed us.

We assume that God cares for the purebreds of the world. Those clean-nosed, tidy-living, convent-created souls. When God sees German Shepherds, or Huskies, or even Pit Bulls wandering the streets, he swings his door open. But what about runts like us? And like that poor pig, we're prone to wander. We find ourselves far from home. Do we warrant his care? Psalm 91 offers a rousing, “Yes.” If you want to know the nature of God's lordship, nestle under the broad branches of David's poetry.

Sixteen verses collaborate to give us a visual of just one image: God as our guardian. See if you can spot the most common word of the psalm: "Those who live in the shelter of the Most High will find rest." "He will rescue you." "He will shield you." "He will shelter you." "Evils will not touch you." "They [angels] will hold you." "The Lord says, 'I will rescue.'" "I will protect." "I will answer." "I will be with them." “I will rescue.” “I will honor.” "I will satisfy." Got the hint? Then don't miss the point: God offers more than the possibility of protection, or even the likelihood of protection. Will God guard you? Is the pope Catholic? Your serenity matters to heaven. God's presence encapsulates your life. Separating you from evil is God, your guardian.

During the Clinton-Lewinsky scandal, a special prosecutor, Kenneth Starr, was appointed and I had the good fortune of being seated at his table at a banquet where he was the featured speaker. Because of the combustibility of those days, a couple of U.S. marshals monitored his every move. One walked ahead, the other behind. Before the banquet, they silently sized up the attendees. While Judge Starr sat at the table, they stood at the door. When I asked if he minded their presence, Judge Starr shrugged, "You know, their protection comforts." Then how much more should God's?

He sizes up every person who comes your way. As you walk, he leads. As you sleep, he patrols. "He will shield you with his wings. He will shelter you with his feathers." (v. 4) The image of living beneath El Shaddai's shadow (God Almighty) reminds me of a picture I saw recently. Apparently, a heavy rain had preceded the photograph, and it was a picture of a mother bird, having been exposed to the elements, with her wings extended over her baby chicks – both of whom were sitting on the perch on either side of her. Apparently, the fierceness of the storm had prohibited her from leaving the confines of her perch, so she covered her children until the winds and rain had passed.

So, from what elements is God protecting you? His wing, at this moment, shields you – a slanderous critic heading toward your desk is interrupted by a phone call; a burglar in route to your house has a flat tire; a drunk driver runs out of gas before your car passes his.

God, your guardian, protects you from "every trap" (v. 3); "the fatal plague" (v. 3); "the plague that stalks in darkness" (v. 6); "the terrors of the night . . . the dangers of the day." (v. 5) One translation boldly promises: "Nothing bad will happen to you." (v. 10 NCV) "Sure. Then why do bad things happen to me?" you ask. "Explain my job transfer. Or the bum who called himself my dad. Or the death of our child." And here’s where our potbellied-pig thoughts begin to surface. Because God protects Golden Retrievers and miniature, long-haired Dachshunds. But mutts like me and you? If God is our guardian, then why do bad things happen to us? Well, have they? Have bad things really happened to you?

God may have a different definition for the word bad than you and I. Parents and children do. Look up the word bad in a high-schooler's dictionary and you'll read definitions like: "pimple on your nose;" "Friday night all alone;" or "Pop quiz in geometry." "Dad, this is really, really bad," your child says. Mom and Dad however, having been around the block a time or two, think just a little differently. Pimples pass. And it won't be long before you'll treasure a quiet evening at home. Inconvenience? Yes. Misfortune? Sure. But bad? Save that adjective for emergency rooms and cemeteries. What's bad to a child isn't always bad to a Dad or a Mom. And what you and I might rate as an absolute disaster, God may rate as a pimple-level problem that will pass.

He views your life in much the same way as you may view a movie after you've read the book. When something bad happens, you can feel the air getting sucked right out of the theater. Everyone else gasps at the crisis on the screen. But not you. Why? You've read the book, of course. You know how the crisis resolves. You know how the good guy gets out of the tight spot. God views your life with the same confidence. And, he's not only read your story . . . he wrote it. His perspective is different, and his purpose is clear. God uses struggles to toughen our spiritual skin. “Consider it a sheer gift, friends, when tests and challenges come at you from all sides. You know that under pressure, your faith-life is forced into the open and shows its true colors. So don't try to get out of anything prematurely. Let it do its work so you become mature and well-developed, not deficient in any way.” (James 1:2-4)

One of God's cures for a weak faith? A good, healthy struggle. Many years ago, I joined my middle-schooler on a trip to Washington, D.C. During the trip, we had the opportunity to go to Colonial Williamsburg, a recreation of eighteenth-century America in Williamsburg, Virginia. And if you ever get a chance to visit, pay special attention to the work of the silversmith. The craftsman places an ingot of silver on an anvil and pounds it with a sledgehammer. Once the metal is flat enough for shaping, into the furnace it goes. The artisan alternately heats and pounds the metal until it takes the shape of something he has in mind. Heating, pounding. Heating, pounding. Heating, pounding.

Just like deadlines, traffic. Arguments, disrespect. Loud sirens, silent phones. Heating, pounding. Heating, pounding. Did you know that the smith in silversmith comes from the old English word smite? Silversmiths are accomplished smiters. So is God. Once the silversmith is satisfied with the form of his design and creation, he begins to planish and pumice it. Using smaller hammers and abrasive pads, he taps, rubs, and decorates. And no one stops him. No one yanks the hammer out of his hand and says, "Hey, go easy on that silver. You've pounded it enough!" No, the craftsman buffets the metal until he is finished with it. Some silversmiths, we were told, keep polishing until they can see their face in their creation. So, when will God stop with you? Maybe when he sees his reflection . . . in you.

"The LORD will perfect that which concerns me." (Ps. 138:8) Jesus said, "My Father never stops working." (John 5:17) God guards those who turn to him. The pounding you feel isn’t a reflection of his distance; it proves his nearness. Trust his sovereignty. Hasn't he earned your trust? Has he ever spoken a word that proved to be false? Given a promise that proved to be a lie? Decades of following God led Joshua to conclude: "Not a word failed of any good thing which the Lord had spoken." (Josh. 21:45)

Look up reliability in heaven's dictionary and read its one-word definition: God. "If we are faithless he always remains faithful. He cannot deny his own nature." (2 Tim. 2:13) For instance, go ahead and make a list of God’s mistakes. Pretty short list, right? Now, make a list of the times he has forgiven you for yours. So, who on earth has that kind of record? "The One who called you is completely dependable. If he said it, he'll do it!" (1 Thess. 5:24) You can depend on him because he is "the same yesterday and today and forever." (Heb. 13:8) And because he’s Lord, "He will be the stability of your times." (Isa. 33:6)

Trust him. "But when I am afraid, I put my trust in you." (Ps. 56:3). Join with Isaiah, who resolved, "I will trust in him and not be afraid." (Isa. 12:2) God is directing your steps and delighting in every detail of your life. (Ps. 37:23-24) It doesn't matter who you are. Potbellied pig or prized purebred? God sees no difference. He just sees you – whom he made.

God sought you out. He found you and then invited you in – you and all the other rescues. You see, God’s in the rescue business and he loves to take in strays – even strays like you and me.

Grace,

Randy

Thursday, October 22, 2015

Angels

For God never said to any angel what he said to Jesus: “You are my Son. Today I have become your Father.” God also said, “I will be his Father, and he will be my Son.” And when he brought his supreme Son into the world, God said, “Let all of God’s angels worship him.”Regarding the angels, he says, “He sends his angels like the winds, his servants like flames of fire.” And God never said to any of the angels, “Sit in the place of honor at my right hand until I humble your enemies, making them a footstool under your feet.” Therefore, angels are only servants — spirits sent to care for people who will inherit salvation. (Hebrews. 1:5-7, 13-14)

When seventeen-year-old Jake Porter ran onto the football field, both teams cheered. Odd. But in three years on the Northwest High squad, Jake had barely dirtied a game jersey. In fact, the McDermott, Ohio, fans had never seen Jake so much as carry the ball or make a tackle. They hadn’t even seen him read a book or write much more than a sentence, for that matter. Kids with Chromosomal Fragile X Syndrome, a common cause of mental retardation, seldom do. But Jake loved sports. Each day after his special-needs classes, he dashed off to some sort of practice: track, baseball, basketball, whatever. He never missed a practice. But he ever played, either. That was until the Waverly game.

Jake's coach had made the decision before kickoff. If it was a lopsided score, Jake would come in. Well, lopsided happened. With five ticks remaining on the clock, Jake’s team was down 42-0. So the coach called a time-out. He motioned to speak with the opposing coach. As his Waverly counterpart heard the plan, he began shaking his head and waving his hands. He’d disagreed with something. So, a referee intervened, and play resumed. The quarterback took the ball and handed it to Jake. And Jake knew what do: take a knee and let the clock expire. They'd practiced that play all week. But, to Jake’s surprise, the players wouldn't let him. His teammates told him to run. So he did. In the wrong direction. But the back judge stopped him and turned him around. That's when the Waverly defense did their part.

The visiting coach, as it turns out, wasn't objecting to the play. He was happy for Jake to carry the ball, but not just to run out the clock. He wanted Jake to score. So, Waverly players parted like the Red Sea and shouted for Jake to run. And run he did. Grinning and dancing and jumping all the way to the end zone. Both sidelines celebrated. Moms cried. Cheerleaders whooped. And Jake smiled as if he'd won the lottery without buying a ticket. How often do those kinds of things happen? According to the Bible, more often than you might think.

In fact, what Jake's team did for him, the Lord of the universe does for you every day of your life. And you ought to see the team he coaches. With over three hundred scriptural references, God’s players – the angels – occupy an unquestioned role in the Bible. And if you believe in God's Word, you’ve got to believe in angels. But believing aside, they’re a little puzzling, too. Angel study is like Biblical whale watching. Angels surface just long enough to give us a glimpse and raise a question, and then they disappear before we have a full view. One thing is certain, though – Biblical and contemporary portrayals of angels don't match up very well.

Tabloids present angels as Thumbelina-like fairies with see-through wings. They exist to do us favors – heaven’s version of the genie in the bottle who finds parking places, lost keys, and missing cats. Snap your finger and, "poof," they appear. Snap again and they vanish. That’s not the Biblical image, however. Two adjectives capture the greater truth about angels: the words “many” and “mighty.” Multitudes of angels populate the world. Hebrews 12:22 speaks of "thousands of angels in joyful assembly." Jude declared, "The Lord is coming with thousands and thousands of holy angels to judge everyone." (vv. 14-15) An inspired King David wrote, "The chariots of God are twenty thousand, even thousands of angels: the Lord is among them, as in Sinai, in the holy place." (Ps. 68:17)

When referring to Mt. Sinai, David was referring to the time when ten thousand angels descended on the mountain as God gave the law to Moses. "God came down from Sinai . . . coming with ten thousand holy angels." (Deut. 33:2) And thousands of angels awaited the call of Christ on the day of his crucifixion. "Do you think that I cannot appeal to my Father, and He will at once put at my disposal more than twelve legions of angels?" (Matt. 26:53) In that day, one legion was equal to six thousand soldiers. So, a little quick math tells you that’s seventy-two thousand hosts of heaven – enough to fill Qualcomm Stadium. 72,000 angels stood poised to rescue their Master – half the population of Escondido.

The book of Revelation refers to angels around the heavenly throne: "And the number of them was ten thousand times ten thousand, and thousands of thousands." (Rev. 5:11) That’s 100 million, or about 1/3 of the United States’ population. And don't forget the vision given to Elisha's servant. When an army threatened to take the lives of them both, Elisha asked God to open the eyes of the boy. "Then the Lord opened the eyes of the young man, and he saw. And behold, the mountain was full of horses and chariots of fire all around Elisha." (2 Kings 6:17)

If God opened our eyes, what would we see? Moms and dads? You'd see angels escorting your child to school. Travelers? You'd see angels encircling the aircraft. Patients? You'd see angels monitoring the moves of the surgeon. Teenagers? You'd see angels overseeing your sleep. Lots and lots of angels. Hundreds of years ago John Milton wrote, "Millions of spiritual creatures walk the Earth unseen, both when we wake, and when we sleep." So, do you need an adjective to describe angels? Well then, start with “many,” and continue with “mighty.” Chiffon wings and meringue sweetness? Maybe for the angels in the gift stores and specialty shops, but God's angels are marked by indescribable strength. Paul says Christ "will come with his mighty angels." (2 Thess. 1:7). From the word translated “mighty,” we have the English word “dynamic.” Angels pack dynamic force. It took only one angel to slay every firstborn in Egypt, and only one angel to close the mouths of the lions to protect Daniel. David called angels "mighty creatures who carry out his plans, listening for each of his commands." (Ps. 103:20)

No need for you to talk to angels, however; they won't listen. Their ears incline only to God's voice. They are "spirits who serve God" (Heb. 1:14), responding to his command and following only his directions. Jesus said they "always see the face of my Father in heaven." (Matt. 18:10) Only one sound matters to the angels – God’s voice. Only one sight enthralls angels – God’s face. They know that he is Lord of all. And as a result, they worship him. Whether in the temple with Isaiah, or the pasture with the Bethlehem shepherds, angels worship. "When he presented his honored Son to the world, God said, 'Let all the angels of God worship him.'" (Heb. 1:6) They did, and they still do.

Remember the earlier reference to the ten thousand times ten thousand angels encircling the throne of heaven? Guess what they’re doing? "All the angels stood around the throne . . . saying: 'Amen! Blessing and glory and wisdom, thanksgiving and honor and power and might, be to our God forever and ever. Amen.'" (Rev. 7:11-12) Doesn't their worship speak volumes about God's beauty? Angels could gaze at the Grand Tetons or the Grand Canyon, at Picasso paintings or the Sistine Chapel, but they choose, instead, to fix their eyes on the glory of God. They can't see enough of him, and they can't be silent about what they see. At this very moment, God's sinless servants offer unceasing worship to their Maker. He is, remember, their Creator.

At one time no angels existed. And then, by God's decree, they did. "He made the things we can see and the things we can't see – kings, kingdoms, rulers, and authorities. Everything has been created through him and for him." (Col. 1:16) Angels fill God's invisible creation. They worship him, and – here’s some comfort – they protect us. "All the angels are spirits who serve God and are sent to help those who will receive salvation." (Heb. 1:14)

Some time ago, a missionary and two companions set out to smuggle Bibles and money to Christians in Vietnam. Upon landing, however, the missionary became separated from his companions. He spoke no Vietnamese, and had never traveled to Hanoi. Imagine his thoughts, then, as he stood in front of the airport, holding a bag of Bibles, wearing a belt of cash, and knowing nothing more than the name of his hotel. Taxi driver after taxi driver offered their services, but the missionary waited and prayed. Finally, knowing he needed to do something, he climbed into a taxi and spoke the name of the hotel. After an hour and a thousand turns, he found himself deposited at the designated place. He paid his drivers, and they went on their way. Right. "They" drove off.

The front seat of his taxi had been occupied by two men. Only later did the uniqueness of this fact begin to sink in. The missionary had seen hundreds of taxis during his days in Vietnam, but not another one of them had two drivers. Meaningless detail? Possibly. Affirming clue? Equally possible. Perhaps he was safely delivered, not by Vietnamese motorists, but by a tandem of heavenly couriers. Later, the missionary’s companions arrived, but only after they'd been scammed by another taxi driver. Did God command a dynamic duo to protect the missionary? You can draw your own conclusions.

But God sent a powerful protector to Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. King Nebuchadnezzar had commanded that the furnace be cranked up to seven times its normal heat and that the boys be thrown into it. Once the victims were dispatched, the king looked in, expecting to see a trio of misery; instead, the men were in fine company. A visitor stood next to them amid the flames. "'Look!' Nebuchadnezzar shouted. 'I see four men, unbound, walking around in the fire. They aren't even hurt by the flames! And the fourth looks like a divine being!'" (Dan. 3:25) An angel ministering to God's people.

And look at Peter, sleeping on a pallet in a Jerusalem prison's death row. One word from Herod and his head would roll. All earthly efforts to save him had been exhausted. But heavenly efforts had not. An angel not only woke Peter up, but walked him out of his cell, too. The fisherman enjoyed a Jake Porter-type escort. (Acts 12:7) Angels minister to God's people. "[God] has put his angels in charge of you to watch over you wherever you go." (Ps. 91:11)

But what if you’re not a believer? Do angels offer equal surveillance to God's enemies? No, they don't. The promise of angelic protection is limited to those who trust God. "All the angels are spirits who serve God and are sent to help those who will receive salvation." David speaks of this restricted coverage: "For the angel of the LORD guards all who fear him, and he rescues them." (Ps. 34:7) Refuse God at the risk of an unguarded back. But receive his lordship, and be assured that many mighty angels will guard you in all your ways. "The angel of the Lord encamps all around those who fear Him, and delivers them." (v. 7) The angel of the Lord doesn't wave as he flies past; he camps, he lingers, he keeps vigilance over you. You traffic beneath the care of celestial beings. The wealthiest of the world don't have the protection God's servants give to you. And angels love to give it.

Because angels not only serve you, they’re stunned by you. "Do you realize how fortunate you are? Angels would have given anything to be in on this." (1 Pet. 1:12) Amazed angels behold the gifts God has given you. Does the Holy Spirit indwell angels? No. But he dwells in you. Do angels thank God for salvation? No, they've never been lost. But you have. Did Christ become an angel? No. But he became a human, and angels stood in awe when he did. Worshiping angels attended his birth. Awaiting angels witnessed his death. Excited angels announced his resurrection. Attentive angels watch the work of the church. "Through Christians like yourselves gathered in churches, this extraordinary plan of God is becoming known and talked about even among the angels!" (Eph. 3:10)

God's work in you leaves angels wide-eyed and applauding. Jesus said, "There is joy in the presence of God's angels when even one sinner repents." (Luke 15:10). When angels gather in the break room, they talk about church. "Have you seen what’s happening in Kenya?" Or, "The Aussie’s are making great strides." Maybe, "Hey, I just returned from Escondido. Let me tell you about those believers at Oak Hill." The Hebrew writer describes a "great cloud of witnesses." (Heb. 12:1) Certainly angels are numbered among them. God sends his best troops to oversee your life. Imagine the president assigning his Secret Service to protect you, telling his agents to motorcade your car through traffic and safeguard you through crowds. How would you sleep if you knew Washington’s finest guarded your door?

So, how will you sleep knowing heaven's finest are doing just that for you now? You’re not alone. Receive God's lordship over your life. Heaven's many, mighty angels watch over you. And when you cross the goal line, like Jake did, they'll be the first to applaud you at the finish.

Grace,

Randy

Friday, October 9, 2015

Worry

Don’t fret or worry. Instead of worrying, pray. Let petitions and praises shape your worries into prayers, letting God know your concerns. Before you know it, a sense of God’s wholeness, everything coming together for good, will come and settle you down. It’s wonderful what happens when Christ displaces worry at the center of your life. (Phil. 4:6-7; The Message)

The idea had captured the hearts and imaginations of scientists all over: an eight-story, glass-and-steel dome in which eight scientists would live a self-sustained life. The outside elements of the Sonora Desert couldn’t touch them. Let the sun blaze. Let the winds blow. Let the sand fly. Because safe within the dome, these researchers would be untouched. So, with the hope of developing a space-colony prototype, the scientists entered the $200,000,000.00, three-acre terrarium in 1991. They planted seeds and grew their own food. Scientists watched with fascination, and some of us felt just a tinge of envy. Because who hasn't longed for a rotunda of relief? Not from an Arizona desert, mind you, but from the harsh winds and hot sun of what we all call life.

The bank demands the mortgage each month. Hospital bills pack a knockout punch. Semester finals lurk around the corner. And just look around you. You have good reason to worry. The sun blasts cancer-causing rays. Air vents blow lung-clotting molds. Potato chips have too many carbs. Vegetables, too many toxins. And do they have to call an airport a terminal? Why does the pilot tell passengers, "We are about to make our “final” approach"? Even on the ground, the flight attendant urges us to stay seated until we have reached a "complete stop." Is there any other kind? Do some airlines have "sort of stops," or "partial stops"?

Some of us have postgraduate degrees from the University of Anxiety. We go to sleep worried that we won't wake up; we wake up worried that we didn't sleep. The mother of one teenager laments, "My daughter doesn't tell me anything. I'm a nervous wreck." Another mother replies, "My daughter tells me everything. I'm a nervous wreck." Wouldn't you love to stop worrying? Could you use a strong shelter from life's harsh elements? God offers you just that: the possibility of a worry-free life. Not just less worry, but no worry. He created a dome for your heart. "His peace will guard your hearts and minds as you live in Christ Jesus." (Phil. 4:7). Interested?

“Don't worry about anything; instead, pray about everything. Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done. If you do this, you will experience God's peace, which is far more wonderful than the human mind can understand. His peace will guard your hearts and minds as you live in Christ Jesus.” (Phil. 4:6-7) The Christians in Philippi could’ve used a biosphere. Attacks were coming at them from every angle. Preachers served for selfish gain. (Phil. 1:15-17) Squabbling church members threatened the unity of the church. (4:2) False teachers preached a cross-less gospel. (3:2-3, 18-19) Some believers were struggling just to find food and shelter. (4:19) Persecutions outside. Problems inside. More than enough troubles to make even the most mature Christian worry. Folks in Philippi had them. We have them. And to us, God gives this staggering proposal: "Don't worry about anything." Yeah, right. And while I'm at it, I'll jump over the moon, too. Are you kidding me? No, he’s not.

Two words summarize his opinion of worry: “irrelevant” and “irreverent.” "Can all your worries add a single moment to your life? Of course not." (Matt. 6:27) Worry is irrelevant. It alters nothing. When was the last time you solved a problem by worrying about it? Imagine someone saying, "I got behind in my bills, so I resolved to worry my way out of debt. And, you know, it worked! A few sleepless nights, a little nausea and hand wringing. I yelled at my kids and took some pills, and – glory to worry – money appeared on my desk." That doesn't happen. Worry changes nothing. You don't add one day to your life, or one bit of life to your day by worrying. Your anxiety earns you heartburn. Nothing more.

Here’s some statistics about worry. 40% of what we worry about never happens. 30% is stuff that happened in the past that we can’t change. 12% focuses on the opinions of others which we can’t control. And another 10% centers on our health, which only worsens as we worry. The remaining 8% are real problems that we can influence. In other words, 92% of our worries are needless. But not only is worry irrelevant; worry is irreverent. It’s a distrust of God. “And why worry about your clothes? Look at the lilies and how they grow. They don't work or make their clothing, yet Solomon in all his glory was not dressed as beautifully as they are. And if God cares so wonderfully for flowers that are here today and gone tomorrow, won't he more surely care for you? You have so little faith! (Matt. 6:28-30)

Worry betrays a fragile faith; it’s like an unconscious blasphemy. We don't intentionally disbelieve God. But don't we, when we worry, essentially doubt God? We assume the attitude of a kid asking Michelangelo, "You sure you know what to do with that rock?" No wonder the apostle urges us to "be anxious for nothing." (Phil. 4:6) But Paul’s not promoting an irresponsible, careless life. We aren’t to be like the procrastinating preacher. “I won't worry,” he told himself. “The Holy Spirit will give me my message.” So, all week long he avoided studying, saying, “The Holy Spirit will give me my message.” Finally, on Sunday, he stood before the church and prayed aloud, "All right, Lord. Give me a message." Much to the surprise of the church, a heavenly voice filled the sanctuary. "Tell them you didn't study."

Manage your problems? Of course. But let your problems manage you? The worrisome heart does. And the worrisome heart pays a high price for doing so. “Worry” comes from the Greek word, merimnaó, meaning "to divide the mind." Anxiety splits us down the middle, creating a double-minded thinker. Rather than take away tomorrow's trouble, worry voids today's strength. Perception is divided, distorting your vision. Strength is divided, wasting your energy. And who can afford to lose power?

But how can we stop worrying? Paul offers a two-pronged answer: God's part and our part. Our part includes prayer and gratitude. "Don't worry about anything; instead, pray about everything. Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done." (Phil. 4:6) Want to worry less? Then pray more. Rather than look forward in fear, look upward in faith. This doesn’t come as a surprise. Regarding prayer, the Bible never blushes. Jesus taught people that "it was necessary for them to pray consistently and never quit." (Luke 18:1) Paul told believers, "Devote yourselves to prayer with an alert mind and a thankful heart." (Col. 4:2) James declared, "Are any among you suffering? They should keep on praying about it." (James 5:13) Rather than worry about anything, "pray about everything." Everything? Everything. "In everything . . . let your requests be made known to God." (Phil. 4:6) Worry diminishes as we look upward. God knows what can happen on this journey, and he wants to bring us home. So Pray about everything.

And don't skip Paul's ingredient of gratitude. "Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done." Do what the shepherd boy David did when he faced Goliath. David didn't cower before the giant's strength. He focused on God's success. When Saul refused to let him go head to knee with Goliath, David produced God's track record. “I have been taking care of my father's sheep," he said. "When a lion or a bear comes to steal a lamb from the flock, I go after it with a club and take the lamb from its mouth. If the animal turns on me, I catch it by the jaw and club it to death. I have done this to both lions and bears, and I'll do it to this pagan Philistine, too, for he has defied the armies of the living God! The Lord who saved me from the claws of the lion and the bear will save me from this Philistine!" Saul finally consented. "All right, go ahead," he said. "And may the LORD be with you!" (1 Sam. 17:34-37)

Are you afraid of a giant? Then recall the lion and the bear. Don't look forward in fear; look backward in appreciation. God's proof is God's past. Forgetfulness gives birth to fearfulness, but a good memory makes for a content heart. It works like this. Let's say a stressor comes your way. The doctor decides you need an operation. She detects a lump and thinks it best that you have it removed. So there you are, walking out of her office. You've just been handed this cup of anxiety. So, what are you going to do with it? You can place it in one of two pots. You can dump your bad news in the vat of worry and pull out the spoon. Turn on the fire. Stew on it. Stir it. Mope for a while. Brood for a time. And it won't be long before you'll have a delightful pot of pessimism. Frankly, some of us have been sipping from that vat for a long time, and the stuff is getting to us. So how about a different idea? The pot of prayer. Before the door of the doctor's office closes, give the problem to God. "I accept your lordship. Nothing comes to me that hasn't passed through you."

Then, stir in a healthy helping of gratitude. You don't think about a lion or a bear, but you do remember the tax refund, the timely counsel, or the suddenly open seat on the overbooked flight. A glimpse into the past generates strength for the future. Your part is prayer and gratitude. God's part? Peace and protection. "If you do this, you will experience God's peace, which is far more wonderful than the human mind can understand. His peace will guard your hearts and minds as you live in Christ Jesus." (Phil. 4:7) Believing prayer ushers in God's peace. Not a random, nebulous, earthly peace, but his peace. Imported from heaven. The same tranquility that marks the throne room, God offers to you.

Do you think God battles anxiety? Does he ever wring his hands and ask the angels for some Tums? Of course not. A problem is no more a challenge to God than a twig is to an elephant. God enjoys perfect peace because God enjoys perfect power. And he offers his peace to you. A peace that will "guard your hearts and minds as you live in Christ Jesus." And to make his point, Paul employs a military metaphor. The Philippians, living in a garrison town, were used to the Roman sentries maintaining their watch. Before an enemy could get inside, they’d have to pass through the guards. God makes the same offer. His supernatural peace overshadows you like a protective dome, guarding your heart.

After twenty-four months, the biosphere in Arizona proved to be a total flop. Biological balance between the plants got all out of whack. Oxygen dipped dangerously low. Researchers squabbled among themselves. The ants ran amuck and conquered most of the other bugs. The experiment failed, and the dome was abandoned. But the dome of God still stands. We need only to stay beneath it. Are you tied up in knots? "Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you." (1 Pet. 5:7)

Strong verb there - Cast. Not “place,” or “lay,” or “occasionally offer.” Peter enlisted the same verb that the Gospel writers used to describe the way Jesus treated demons. He cast them out. An authoritative hand on the collar, another on the belt, and a "Don't come back." Do the same with your fears. Get serious with them. Immediately cast them upon God. Worry is an option, not an assignment. God can lead you into a worry-free world.

So, be quick to pray with thanksgiving. Focus less on the problems ahead and more on the victories behind. Do your part, and God will do his. He will guard your heart with his peace . . . a peace that passes your and my understanding.

Grace,

Randy