Living on the Backside of the Needlepoint

 

Living on the Backside of the Needlepoint

Living on the Backside of the Needlepoint - Audio/Visual 

So, the Lord gave to Israel all the land of which he had sworn to give to their fathers, and they took possession of it and dwelt in it. The Lord gave them rest all around, according to all that he had sworn to their fathers. And not a man of all their enemies stood against them; the Lord delivered all their enemies into their hand. Not a word failed of any good thing which the Lord had spoken to the house of Israel. All came to pass. (Josh. 21:43-45)

Faith is a choice, and believers risk the choice. When forced to stand at the crossroads of belief and unbelief, they choose belief. They place one determined step after the other on the pathway of faith, but seldom with a skip; it’s usually with a limp. They make a conscious decision to step toward God, to lean into hope, and to heed the call of heaven. They press into the promises of God. Joshua's story urges us to do the same. In fact, one could argue that the central message of the book is this headline: "God keeps his promises. Trust him."

“All came to pass.” (Josh. 21:45) These four words in three verses are the theological heart of the book of Joshua. They rise up like trumpets at the end of the narrative. "Don't miss this! Attention everyone. God keeps his word!" The writer pounds the point in triplicate. Three times in three verses he declares: God did what he said he would do. (1) "The Lord gave . . . all . . . he had sworn to give." (v. 43) (2) "The Lord gave . . . rest . . . according to all that he had sworn to their fathers." (v. 44) (3) "Not a word failed of any good thing which the Lord had spoken . . . All came to pass." (v. 45) Author, Dale Ralph Davies, was so taken by that last statement that he entitled his Joshua study No Falling Words.

We live in a world of falling words. A world of broken promises and empty vows. Pledges made only to be retracted. They were spoken with great fanfare like, "I'll always love you," or "Count on us to recognize your good work," or "’Till death do us part." But words tend to tumble. They’re like autumn leaves in a November's wind. You've heard your share, I’m sure, but you'll never hear them from God. In a world of falling words, his remain. In a life of broken promises, he keeps his. "The Lord's promise is sure. He speaks no careless word; all he says is purest truth, like silver seven times refined." (Ps. 12:6)

God is a covenant-keeping God. Want proof? The narrator tells us to simply look at history. "The Lord gave to Israel all the land of which he had sworn to give to their fathers." (Josh. 21:43) Specifically, God gave Abraham a promise. "Then the Lord appeared to Abram and said, 'To your descendants I will give this land.'" (Gen. 12:7) That was six hundred years earlier. Who would have believed that it would ever happen? When Abraham died, the only land he owned was Sarah's cemetery plot. His descendants were sharecroppers at best and slaves at worst, living in Egyptian servitude and bondage for 400 years. Moses led them near, but never into Canaan. How many sons of Abraham looked to the stars and prayed, “God, will you keep your promise?” The answer from the pages of Joshua is, “Yes.” God promised to bless Abraham, and through Abraham's seed all the nations of the earth. "I will bless you and make your name great; and you shall be a blessing. I will bless those who bless you, and I will curse him who curses you; and in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed." (Gen. 12:2-3)

This was the promise partially fulfilled in Joshua. And this is the promise completely fulfilled in Jesus. In him all nations are blessed. In Jesus, every person has hope and the possibility of redemption. No wonder the apostle Paul wrote, "All the promises of God find their “Yes” in [Jesus]." (2 Cor. 1:20) Our God is a promise-keeping God. Others may make a promise and forget, but if God makes a promise, he keeps it. "He who promised is faithful." (Heb. 10:23)

Does that matter? Does God's integrity make a difference? Does his faithfulness come into play? When your child is on life support, it does. When you're pacing the ER floor, it does. When you are wondering what to do with every parent's worst nightmare, you have to choose. Faith or fear. God's purpose or random history. A God who knows and cares, or a God who isn't there? We all choose. Believers choose to trust God's promises. That’s what believers do. They  believe. They choose to believe that God is up to something good even though all we see looks bad. They echo the verse of the hymn, My Hope is Built on Nothing Less: “His oath, his covenant, his blood, support me in the whelming flood.”

Nothing deserves your attention more than God's covenants. No words written on paper will ever sustain you like the promises of God. Do you know them? To the bereaved: "Weeping may stay for the night, but rejoicing comes in the morning." (Ps. 30:5) To the besieged: "The righteous person may have many troubles, but the Lord delivers him from them all." (Ps. 34:19) To the sick: "The Lord sustains them on their sickbed and restores them from their bed of illness." (Ps. 41:3) To the lonely: "When you pass through the waters, I will be with you." (Isa. 43:2) To the dying: "In my Father's house are many rooms . . . I go to prepare a place for you." (John 14:2) To the sinner: "My grace is sufficient for you." (2 Cor. 12:9) These promises are for your good. "And because of his glory and excellence, he has given us great and precious promises. These are the promises that enable you to share his divine nature and escape the world's corruption caused by human desires." (2 Peter 1:4)

Lean into God's promises. When fears surface, respond with this thought: But God said …. When doubts arise, But God said …. When guilt overwhelms you, But God said …. Declare these words: "You have rescued me, O God who keeps his promises." (Ps. 31:5) Turn again and again to God's spoken covenants. Search the Scriptures like a miner digging for gold. Once you find a nugget, grab it. Trust it. Take it to the bank. Do what I did with the promise of a pilot.

On a flight many years ago, bad weather had come our way. The flight into Los Angeles was delayed by storms. We landed at the exact time the final flight into San Diego was scheduled to depart. As we taxied toward the gate, I was checking my watch, thinking about hotels and grumbling at the bad break. Then over the loud speaker a promise. "This is the pilot. I know many of you have connections. Relax. You'll make them. We are holding your planes. We have a place for you." Well, I thought, he wouldn't say that if he didn't mean it. So, I decided to trust his promise. I stopped thinking about hotels. I quit checking my watch. I relaxed. I waited my turn to get off the plane and set my sights on my next gate. I marched through the concourse with confidence. Hadn't the pilot given me a promise? Other people in the airport that evening weren't so fortunate. They, also victims of inclement weather, were in a panic. Travelers were scrambling, confused and worried. Their expressions betrayed their fear. Too bad their pilot hadn't spoken to them. Or maybe he had, and they just didn’t listen. Your Pilot has spoken to you, as well. Will you listen? I mean really listen.

One of my favorite images of God’s working in our lives, especially during hard times, is a picture of God doing needlepoint. Have you ever seen a finished needlepoint? It’s beautiful; some even have the piece framed as art. But have you ever looked at the back of that same needlepoint? It’s a mess of multi-colored threads and knots. On this side of heaven, we stand behind the needlepoint and usually see only the knotted ends and frayed edges of what God is doing. But if we could see the other side of the needlepoint, we would see God doing something beautiful. Instead, we live on the backside of the needlepoint with painful circumstances and God’s purposes unclear. When have you struggled to see what God was doing? How have you struggled to believe that he was weaving anything beautiful? Can you think of a time when God gave you a glimpse of the “beautiful side” of the needlepoint after a season of staring at the backside? We spend a lot of time staring at the “ugly side” of the needlepoint.

And if you haven’t struggled, maybe you know someone who is, and the temptation is to see the knotted underside of the needlepoint in your friend, or spouse, or family and give them encouragement by speculating as to what the beautiful thing is that God is doing. We like to suggest possible hopeful outcomes, to write our own endings to God’s story. That’s not particularly helpful, however, because we don’t actually know for sure what God is doing – even if we sometimes think we do. But it’s also not helpful because it implies that what is needed for us to trust God in these hard times is an understanding of what he’s doing, where that particular part of the story fits into the bigger picture. Biblically, that’s not what God tells us is needed. Ask Job. Ask Joseph. Ask the author of Ecclesiastes.

Our seeing the tapestry from God’s viewpoint and understanding the whole story is not the answer. God says the answer is to know and trust the Weaver, to know and trust that he is indeed making something beautiful, that he is in fact a God who redeems and restores even the most broken and hopeless situation even when we don’t understand why or how. He actually calls us to live almost exclusively looking at the backside of the needlepoint. Our hope from that side is a trust that there is a beautiful side being created by a Master Weaver who keeps his promises.

In other words, we don’t need to tell Jack and Jill how their marital struggles are part of God’s grander purposes or tell Sally how her heartbreak will be redeemed. Instead, when those “ugly sides” of the tapestry are shared, we can love others well by reminding them of who God is, what he is like as a God who can be trusted to keep his promises, and how much he understands their pain and has experienced it himself on the cross. That’s a God we can trust. That’s a Weaver who gives us hope from the backside of the needlepoint. The faith that turns to God in the darkest hour, and praises God with the weakest body. The kind of faith that trusts in God's promises. The kind of faith that proclaims, "Faith is a choice, and I choose faith” – even while living on the backside of the needlepoint.

Grace,

Randy