Category: Thoughts from Scripture

Posted in Faith Nuggets, Thoughts, Thoughts from Scripture

Going On

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

I’m burdened right now about the way so many churches are dying. And so many are not shining the light of Jesus well. In the process of filtering through old posts to see what to republish, I found this one that reminds me why our light is dwindling: we’re not “going on.” May that change! May we never be complacent in this time of ease, but may we be built up, may we go on, and may we once again see true increase as we celebrate people moving from death to life!

We’ve all heard the stories of the church growing dramatically. Sometimes the growth results from gospel being heard for the first time. Other growth comes in response to persecution. Still other growth begins when hearts that have been simply going through the motions are suddenly revived.

I love hearing – and experiencing – any such growth stories. But, my favorite stories remain the earliest ones. The biblical ones. Like this one:

So the church throughout all Judea and Galilee and Samaria enjoyed peace, being built up; and going on in the fear of the Lord and in the comfort of the Holy Spirit, it continued to increase. Acts 9:31 NASB

Do you see the amazing information packed into this verse?

  1. The church enjoyed peace.

    This was really the first time of peace for the church. It started under mild persecution, as the Apostles were threatened by the Jewish leaders who thought their problems had ended when they got rid of Jesus. Surprise!

    For the most part, though, it seems as if the persecution relaxed a bit and preaching, teaching, meeting, and growing occurred without too many issues. But, if you’ve ever been in a growing church, you know there are other issues. Internal issues. Growing pains. We see a glimpse of these issues in the argument between the Hellenistic and Jewish widows. I have a feeling that was not the only growing pain.


    Then came the massive persecution at the hands of Saul following Stephen’s martyrdom. The believers were scattered, and the gospel spread.


    Only after Saul traveled that life-changing Damascus road did peace come.


  2. Being built up.

    Consider the beginning of the chapter. Saul was trying to tear down the church. Now, the threat from Saul is gone, and it seems like the rest of the Jews have lost their steam – or that they’re more focused on Saul than the whole church.

    So, what once was being torn down is now being built up. It is interesting to note that this verb refers not to something that the church was accomplishing on their own. They were not building themselves up, but were being built up. The action of the Lord Himself accomplished this growth. He’d established His church in challenge. Now He was growing His church in peace. He acted. They received.


  3. And going on.

    This is the one I really love. The church went on, acting on what they’d learned in the time of challenge.

    So often, we see the opposite in the lives of individual Christians and churches as a whole. We band together and lean on Christ in the challenge, but when the peace comes, we relax. We separate. We do not go on, persisting in the foundation established during the challenge. Instead, we act as if those foundational behaviors are only for the times of challenge, waiting for us to return to if the need arises. But the early church had no concept of that. Perhaps it was a side effect of being established in challenge. They knew nothing else. So, they continued in what they knew, and they “continued to increase” because of it.

We often discuss emulating the early church in order to be truly biblical in our methods. I think right here is the first place we need to look. We need to choose to go on “in the fear of the Lord and in the comfort of the Holy Spirit,” no matter what our circumstances.

Then, my friends – oh, then! – let’s just hang on. Because the growth will truly be glorious!

Posted in Faith Nuggets, Thoughts, Thoughts from Scripture

Leading the Leaders

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

Lately I’ve been working through some thoughts about leadership that will eventually make their way into coherent form. But, the foundation of the thought is this: A major message blared to youth when I was growing up revolved around how important it was to be a leader instead of a follower. And I wondered about that even then — how can you have leaders with no followers? Followers will always outnumber leaders, but there is also wisdom to be had in following. That’s a portion of what this post, written well over a decade ago, addresses, and revisiting it is helping me as I hash out the fullness of my thoughts. So, I figured I’d reshare it today. Enjoy!

The reign of Hezekiah has always thrilled me. If I had to pick a favorite king of Judah, he would be the one. After generations of sinfulness and disobedience, Hezekiah decides to do it right.

He wastes no time beginning reforms.

In the first year of his reign, in the first month, he opened the doors of the house of the Lord and repaired them. He brought in the priests and the Levites and gathered them into the square on the east. Then he said to them, “Listen to me, O Levites. Consecrate yourselves now, and consecrate the house of the Lord, the God of your fathers, and carry the uncleanness out from the holy place. 2 Chronicles 29:3-5

Where It Starts

There is something I find interesting in this story. Hezekiah instructs the priests and Levites right here in the very beginning. Yet all through the reforms, a certain theme is repeated:

But the priests were too few, so that they were unable to skin all the burnt offerings; therefore their brothers the Levites helped them until the work was completed and until the other priests had consecrated themselves. For the Levites were more conscientious to consecrate themselves than the priests. 2 Chronicles 29:34

For the king and his princes and all the assembly in Jerusalem had decided to celebrate the Passover in the second month, 3 since they could not celebrate it at that time, because the priests had not consecrated themselves in sufficient numbers, nor had the people been gathered to Jerusalem. 2 Chronicles 30:3-4

Then they slaughtered the Passover lambs on the fourteenth of the second month. And the priests and Levites were ashamed of themselves, and consecrated themselves and brought burnt offerings to the house of the Lord. 2 Chronicles 30:15

For Hezekiah king of Judah had contributed to the assembly 1,000 bulls and 7,000 sheep, and the princes had contributed to the assembly 1,000 bulls and 10,000 sheep; and a large number of priests consecrated themselves. 2 Chronicles 30:24

Do you see the progression here?

– Hezekiah initiated.
– Some of the religious leaders responded, but not all.
– The people responded in greater numbers.
– The religious leaders slowly came around, feeling convicted because of the response of the people.

There are a couple of lessons to learn from this.

First, our positions mean something! Hezekiah should not have been the initiator. The people should not have been ahead of the priests and Levites. It was the job of the priests and Levites to instruct the king and be spiritual leaders for the people. They failed and then had to play catch-up when they should have been leading.

Fortunately, others stepped up! This leads directly to the second lesson.

Don’t wait for the “right” person to act! Leaders do not always lead as they should. Sometimes they get complacent. That does not give followers an excuse. Sometimes people must be willing to motivate their leaders to action.

You might not see yourself as a leader, and that’s okay. Not everyone is a leader. But, that doesn’t excuse you from action. If you are choosing to sit around and do nothing simply because your leaders are not acting, then you are living in sin. You share a measure of responsibility with your leaders. And you are capable of instigating a change!

The priests should have been the ones to direct the king and mobilize the Levites. The Levites should have been the ones to teach the people, stirring them to action. Instead, Hezekiah pushed the priests and Levites. Then he stirred the people to action. The Levites got a more decent start than the priests, but it was only the amazing responsiveness of the people that truly lit a fire under the sluggish priests. The ones who should have started everything were the last to respond.

Where will you and I fall? May we be the first!

Originally published July, 2014
Posted in Thoughts from Others, Thoughts from Scripture

Not Alone

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

Some mornings, I read and have to work pretty hard to process what I’ve read. I want to study and grow and learn, but some mornings I just have to make it my goal to get the information into my head and trust that the understanding will dawn eventually.

Other mornings, though, things just jump out at me. Sometimes a lot of things, sometimes a few. But, they literally leap off the page and catch me by surprise.

Then there are days when I’m distracted and struggling for most of the reading, but one little thing still grabs at me. Reading back through my journal, I discovered an entry about one of those days. It was the first day of a new year, but the week was about halfway through — and it had been a long week already. I was tired. My shoulders were stiff with tension. And my head was not really grasping the sense of a new beginning or fresh start of any sort. On days like that, an arbitrary date on a calendar declaring, “New Year!!!” doesn’t really offer a promise that things will be truly new or good or different.

So instead of feeling celebratory, I started the day a wee bit grouchy. And then I read these words:

The psalmist insists that no one anytime, anywhere, praises the Lord alone.

The sentence came from a commentary on the Psalms entitled The Psalms: Jesus’s Prayer Book by Douglas D. Webster. I’d been reading the four-book series all during the previous year as a companion to our church reading plan, which had spent the year working slowly and steadily through the Psalms. The plan ran over just a few days into the new year, and the reading on this particular morning was Psalm 148, a sweeping song of praise encompassing the whole of creation. In fact, it’s hard to read the psalm without thinking of God’s act of creation, especially since another devotional reading that morning centered on Genesis 1.

The whole set of readings offered a powerful reminder of praise, even speaking into my grouchy, tired, cranky morning. Even so, this one little quote took me off guard.

Why?

Because it made me realize that, so often, I choose to approach praise as if I’m alone. Just me trying to figure out how to praise God in the middle of the “whatever” of my life, even if I’m with others who are doing the same thing. We’ve made our relationship with God so personal that it has become individualistic. And that leaves us feeling alone.

But we’re not. Ever. Even if there wasn’t another person around with a heart to praise our Savior, Lord, and Creator, we still wouldn’t be alone because all of creation is constantly praising Him.

We never, ever praise alone.

Whether through the laughter of my family, the songs of a congregation, or the music of wind chimes as the breeze blows around them, praise is everywhere. And I’m a part of it.

I should know this. And, deep inside, I realize I do know it. But I hadn’t really been living the knowledge. Instead, I’d been complaining because I felt alone.

The most beautiful thing about the Spirit’s instruction and illumination of God’s Word is that we become nourished even when the circumstances don’t change. My week was still long. The challenges were still there. But the reminder shifted my focus, as is evident in my journal entry for the next day. How amazing to serve that kind of God.

And to know, we’re never alone.

Posted in Thoughts from Life, Thoughts from Scripture

Thoughts from Moses

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

Do you ever look at certain stories in the Bible and wonder how in the world people can respond the way they do? I do. Moses’ behavior in Exodus 3-4 is one example. Here Moses is, standing in front of a bush that is on fire but not being destroyed, talking to Almighty God. And what does he do? He argues.

Well, at first he’s afraid, which is a very natural response. And he sees his own inadequacies in the face of a holy, awesome God. Again, not only natural, but very appropriate.

But, then Moses goes above and beyond the point of recognizing his inadequacies. He starts arguing to the point of informing God that He’s wrong. Ouch! It’s easy to condemn Moses for his behavior. But, I can’t help but want to dig deeper. Why would Moses go to such extremes?

I think the answer might lie in Exodus 2, in the hands of the fellow Hebrews Moses simply wanted to help.

Years later, after Moses had grown up, he went out to his own people and observed their forced labor. He saw an Egyptian striking a Hebrew, one of his people. Looking all around and seeing no one, he struck the Egyptian dead and hid him in the sand. The next day he went out and saw two Hebrews fighting. He asked the one in the wrong, “Why are you attacking your neighbor?”

“Who made you a commander and judge over us?” the man replied. “Are you planning to kill me as you killed the Egyptian?”

Then Moses became afraid and thought, “What I did is certainly known.”

When Pharaoh heard about this, he tried to kill Moses. But Moses fled from Pharaoh and went to live in the land of Midian, and sat down by a well. – Exodus 2:11-15

Keep in mind that Moses was called and preserved from birth for the purpose of being used by God to free the Israelites. He might not yet have known how to listen to God’s plan, but he already had a huge burden for the people of God.

Yet even from the very beginning, the people he wanted to help lashed out at him, rejecting his help. (And this would be repeated so very many times over the next forty years.) They may even have been the reason Pharaoh learned about the murder. Now, don’t get me wrong — I don’t believe Moses was in the right here in his choice to kill the Egyptian. I believe he let his passion rule, and God needed to get ahold of him and teach him a lot. Even so, being attacked by the very people he thought he was helping had to leave a wound.

A wound that seemed to still be bothersome forty years after Moses fled Egypt.

A wound that had settled in so firmly that he seemed to honestly believe Almighty God, the great I AM, didn’t really know what He was talking about.

Obviously, Scripture doesn’t explicitly say, “Moses didn’t believe God because he’d been deeply hurt by the Hebrews before, and he didn’t think it was possible for them to accept him as their leader no matter what I AM said.” But I’ve seen what the wounds from a friend can do.

I’ve seen someone express passion and excitement because God was working and it was visible. The delight in being a part of that work was so tangible! But, doubt began to creep in. Then an attack came. Not from the world, but from a friend. From a beloved fellow Christian. And the wound struck so deep that it overcame the passion and excitement. Delight turned into confusion and an insatiable urge to just escape. Walk away from all of the work. Walk away from being used by God. Hide and never feel that hurt again.

I’ve not just seen that hurt in others. I’ve felt it myself, so very strongly. It’s a deep wound.

Cherished loved ones can hurt us. Those who should be our allies can derail us. Friends can deceive and incapacitate us. The most tragic reality is that the actions of fellow believers can convince us that the all-powerful, almighty, unfailing, all-knowing, loving God who called us doesn’t know what He’s talking about. Yes, we can and do respond just like Moses did. Ouch.

And more often than not, they aren’t doing it intentionally. They’re just acting out of a focus on self instead of on God and others. It’s easy to do. We’ve all been there, especially when we’re struggling with something. Think about the Israelites. Their problem wasn’t really with Moses. It was with their oppressors. They were tired. Weighted down. And lashing out at the most available person — who just happened to be the person who wanted to help them.

No wonder Scripture tells us so many times to encourage one another. To build one another up. To be a community of unity. Of nourishment. Of exhortation. Yes, to call out sin in one another, but never, ever, ever to tear one another down. Because we have to be reminded to look beyond ourselves. We don’t remember on our own.

God’s enemy wants to divide us. He wants to isolate us. He wants to cause disunity among us. Because when he does, he can cause us to doubt God’s calling. He can drive us to argue that we’re not enough. And when we’re alone, we’re not enough. But when we’re together, serving our Lord God in the unifying power of His Spirit, nothing can stop us.

Which option will we choose?

Posted in Thoughts from Life, Thoughts from Scripture

Words

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

Have you ever stopped to really think about how we use words?

You might think that this would come naturally to a writer. That I would be deeply attentive to every word I use and its nuance. But, that’s not really true. I am as nonchalant about words as the next person, using vocabulary, phrases, and grammatical structures habitually, without stopping to really process whether or not I am truly communicating my thoughts well.

In fact, I did it in that last sentence. Think about the word “habitually” — or even “habit.” It is often used in a manner which indicates an action taken without thought. Do I really not think about how I use my words? That’s a ridiculous notion, to be honest. Although sometimes I do speak before I think — we all do that at times — typically even the “habitual” words and phrases I use are intentional choices to attempt to communicate well.

So, even though we might think that having a habit means the ability to do something so naturally that we don’t even think about it, the truth is that we don’t actually use the word “habit” that way.

Just to diverge for a moment, the top definition in Webster’s dictionary for habit is “a settled tendency or usual manner of behavior,” followed by the second definition, which includes, “an acquired mode of behavior that has become nearly or completely involuntary,” “addiction,” and “a behavior pattern acquired by frequent repetition or physiologic exposure that shows itself in regularity or increased facility of performance.” Oh, and if you keep looking, you’ll see older definitions related to clothing, appearance, or even the action of dressing oneself!1

If you’re anything like me, the next time you use the word “habit” out of habit, you’re probably going to stop yourself and think, “Wait, did I really use that word well?”

That, my friends, is the point. What we say matters. But, it’s not just the words we use or the tones and attitudes we present when we use those words. It’s also the way other people understand our words.

That’s a heavy burden to bear, I know. If I talk about doing something habitually, and another person interprets that to mean that I can do it without truly thinking or processing, they may feel that they will never be able to succeed in that area. But, if they think of it as a behavior I’ve acquired or that is typical for me, they may realize that even a habit takes work and effort. Even after being accustomed to doing it. Together, I and the person to whom I am speaking are jointly responsible for making sure that we understand one another and are communicating with clarity.

And guess what? We’ll never, ever, ever do that perfectly!

Yeah, sorry. Didn’t mean to be a downer there. But it’s the truth. So, if it is the truth, what do we do about it?

I could give you a whole list of good communication techniques, but you can search for those yourself just as easily. I could talk to you about building healthy relationships, but trying to accomplish that in a few hundred words would make something that is exceedingly important feel very trite.

Instead, I’ll share with you what’s on my bedroom wall. It’s a beautiful calligraphy print of Psalm 19:14, which reads, “May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable to you, Lord, my rock and my Redeemer.” (CSB)

Does that answer all our questions? Give us solid vocabulary to rely on that everyone will understand with complete clarity? Ensure that we never say a misunderstood thing ever again?

Nope. Not by a long shot.

But it does rightly direct our intentions. If my goal is to communicate flawlessly with you, I will fail. I’ll pick a wrong word or unwittingly say something that is a trigger for you. But, our amazing God, our Father, Lord, Rock, and Redeemer, knows us all. He knows our hearts. He knows not just what we say, but what we mean. And we can trust Him to bridge the gaps between us.

But only if our goal is first and foremost to be acceptable to Him.

That’s how I want to think, speak, write, and communicate. In a way that makes Him smile. That deepens my relationship with Him. That then, in turn, helps you see His love and pleasure as well. I forget that goal sometimes, which is why I have the verse on my wall, right by the door. I see it every day. I am reminded every day. Even so, I still miss it so often. But I want to keep growing. Keep learning. Keep practicing.

And maybe, before too much longer, that kind of communication will truly be my habit.

1. Merriam-Webster.com Dictionary, s.v. “habit,” accessed August 17, 2026, https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/habit.

Posted in Thoughts from Scripture

No Big Picture – Part 2

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

Chewing on thoughts from Scripture never fails to produce results. Maybe that’s why we are reminded so often to meditate on God’s Word.

That was definitely the case as I continued to meditate on John 5:19-20 after the verses literally jumped off the page at me. I shared my immediate thoughts last week, but the concept continued to deepen. Continued to form. Continued to work on my heart.

Here are the verses again, just as a reminder:

Jesus replied, “Truly I tell you, the Son is not able to do anything on his own, but only what he sees the Father doing. For whatever the Father does, the Son likewise does these things. For the Father loves the Son and shows him everything he is doing, and he will show him greater works than these so that you will be amazed. John 5:19-20 CSB

The initial realization was that Jesus didn’t have the big picture. By choice. He surrendered it when He took on flesh.

That is mind-boggling enough. But, the more I contemplated it all, the more the enormity of the situation began to sink into my slow brain. Before taking on flesh, the Son didn’t have to be shown anything. He was part of it. He automatically knew it. John 1 tells us that He was there in the beginning. He already existed with God. He knew it all because He ordained it all.

But He surrendered that full knowledge when He took on flesh, putting Himself in a place where He had to rely on the Father to show Him what was going on. He had to trust that the Father would show Him what was relevant when it was relevant. And He never doubted that it would happen, because He trusted the Father’s love and wisdom explicitly.

Here’s where this all hits me. I crave the big picture in life as much as I crave it in my job. I want to see it all so I can then break it down and tackle each step as needed. In my work, that’s necessary. The issues I’ve had in recent years have come down to the reality that I haven’t had enough information, and those who’ve had the information have neglected to give it to me. There was a breakdown. I work for good people. But they miss things. Because of that, I can’t automatically trust them to give me what I need when I need it.

In a way, that’s an understandable frustration with the small reality of work. But, when I crave it in life as a whole, the life that is supposed to be 100% surrendered to the Lord Jesus Christ and, by extension, God the Father, it reveals a problem. A sinful lack of trust kind of problem.

God the Father knows what I need. He knows when I need it. If it comes from Him, I can trust that it’s enough to take the next step, as long as I’m listening faithfully. He never gives too little. If I mess up, it’s because I responded poorly to what He gave me; it’s never because He didn’t give me enough information or the right information.

And yet, I often treat Him like my boss and coworkers. I fuss that I need more. More information. More guidance. More clarity. More…something. That I need to see the big picture. I need to see where He’s taking me so I can figure out my next steps.

That’s faithlessness, pure and simple. Sinful faithlessness.

Ouch.

I have tried to orchestrate life. Break down the big picture. Make things fit just so. And I’ve hit brick walls of frustration on so many things. But the Lord spoke into my striving, whispering truth into my spirit. He showed me the answers He’s already given me. He pointed me to prayers I’ve been praying and how my current uncertainty is actually an answer to some of those prayers. He showed me the action I need to take right now. Today. This week. It doesn’t solve next week or next month. It doesn’t make all of the pieces come together. In fact, it tempts me to ask more questions.

But God isn’t calling me to solve those things. He’s calling me to trust Him today. To see what He has put right in front of me and to do that. Only that. To leave the rest — the big picture — in His hands. Because He knows what to do with it. For all the ways He’s gifted me to break down dreams and visions and ideas into tangible actions, He has not gifted me to solve life’s big issues. That’s His job, not mine.

So today I confess my lack of trust. I repent of my whiny refusal to act simply because I don’t have all the information I think I need. I surrender my need for the big picture. And I make a commitment to do follow along with what I see the Father doing today.

In work. In life. In everything. That’s more than enough.

Posted in Meditations & Meanderings, Thoughts from Scripture

No Big Picture – Part 1

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

I love the way different brains work. I love seeing how we process tasks set before us in very different ways. And I love how we need each other to tackle a task.

For instance, some people can envision projects. They can see what doesn’t exist and create ideas. To be honest, those people blow my mind! If it doesn’t already exist in my awareness, I’m very unlikely to come up with it.

But, the people who come up with those ideas often struggle to know how to implement their dreams and visions. That’s where I often shine. As long as I have the tools and knowledge at my disposal to make it happen, I can break down a dream or vision into practical, viable action steps.

Here’s where things break down for me, though. I can take a big picture and break it down for a whole team, then see exactly where I can complete tasks within my strengths that work well with the strengths of other people on the team. Or, if someone else has already broken it all down, I can so very easily coordinate with the rest of the team as long as I have the big picture.

For most of my adult life, I’ve been in roles where I had the big picture, primarily because that is where I function best. I either had the big picture because I was part of making the vision practical, or I’ve had it because I’ve been one of the people on the team always “in the know.” Only occasionally have I operated with merely a slice of the information. Only rarely have I been the one working task to task, having to wait for the next assignment because I had no concept of the big picture that would automatically give me context for how my current assignment fit or what I might be called on to do next.

Those times have not gone well for me.

Unfortunately, that’s where I have found myself for quite some time in one of my roles. Working task to task with no real context for how it fit in the big picture. Just the task ahead of me. It has worked…technically. But there have also been many times when I’ve wasted time doing something that fit the letter of the task at hand but didn’t fit with the big picture. Times when I’ve done things the old way, not knowing that the “way” had changed. Even times when I’ve messed up completely and caused something to break and have to be fixed. All because I didn’t know the big picture.

It has been frustrating. Where in the past I’ve been either responsible or at least “in the know,” in recent years I’ve been on the outside. Given just enough information for what’s right in front of me, with no context or big picture. My work has felt stagnant. No learning. No growing. No problem-solving. Just completing tasks that I can’t even see the purpose for — especially in those times when the tasks have ultimately been dumped because they weren’t needed after all. (And those are usually the tasks that, in the past, I would have recognized early on in my “big picture breakdown” and would eliminate. But without the big picture, I couldn’t eliminate them.) In short, I’ve struggled a lot and have questioned so many times if I needed to just walk away.

And yet, even though that work is mindless and doesn’t allow me to grow, this life situation has caused growth. I just didn’t realize it until I was smacked upside the head while reading John 5.

Jesus replied, “Truly I tell you, the Son is not able to do anything on his own, but only what he sees the Father doing. For whatever the Father does, the Son likewise does these things. For the Father loves the Son and shows him everything he is doing, and he will show him greater works than these so that you will be amazed. John 5:19-20 CSB

When I read this, I immediately was convicted of my need for the big picture, not just in work, but in life. In following Christ.

Jesus surrendered the big picture and chose to simply follow the Father. I’m supposed to be like Jesus.

Maybe, just maybe, I can practice this with the “small” thing of work, trusting Him to guide me to be the best employee I can be. And then maybe that practice will expand to the bigger scope of life.

Hmmm. Maybe that’s worth chewing on a bit.

Posted in Meditations & Meanderings, Thoughts from Scripture

Comfort

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

“Comfort, comfort my people,”
says your God.
“Speak kindly to Jerusalem and tell her
that her time of warfare is over,
that her punishment is completed.
For the Lord has made her pay double for all her sins.”
Isaiah 40:1-2

I just love the book of Isaiah. I don’t slow down as often as I should when I read it. But when I do, it always grabs me, both in the devastating first part and the hopeful second part.

Isaiah 40 is one of the better known passages of the book, thanks to its Messianic tone and frequent reference in sermon, song, and more. Because of that, sometimes it’s easy for me to read through it without slowing down. I know what it says. It’s familiar. It’s clear.

When I do slow down, though, I’m nearly blown away. Just think about it for a minute. For centuries, God had watched His people reject Him, ignore Him, disobey Him, and suffer the consequences of their refusal to follow Him. They blamed Him for their suffering even while choosing to chase after the things He explicitly told them would hurt them.

Ultimately, they chose punishment instead of His care. His heart grieved, but He knew that the only way to get their attention was to allow them to experience the consequences of their choices.

That’s the first part of Isaiah. But then, the story shifts, enough so that some theologians insist that the second part of Isaiah had to have been written by a different author. And yet, it all comes from the same God. The God who instructs and lays out a clear path of obedience for His people. The God who gives His people a choice. The God who grieves when His people choose to reject and disobey Him. The God who allows the punishment and consequences to fall.

And the God of chapter 40 who declares comfort.

When someone has hurt me, I may forgive them, but I don’t necessarily embrace them again. I will either walk away completely, choosing a separate path from them, or I’ll erect a barrier that keeps them at arm’s length.

Not God! He leans right back in. He embraces. He comforts. He restores intimacy. He draws His people close to His heart, putting them right back on His path.

How astounding is that! How loving! How powerful!

And what should my response be?

First, to recognize the boon this is for me. He takes me back. He embraces me. He welcomes me back into His intimacy even when I’ve messed up royally. He loves my confession and repentance and is right there to welcome me back into His embrace every single time, comforting me even as I grieve over my choice to hurt Him…yet again.

Second, to be a reflection of this to those around me. They, too, are that close to His comfort. His intimacy. His grace and mercy and lovingkindness. And I get to be a conduit of that.

I get choked up every time I think of how Isaiah must have felt when this message flowed through Him to the people of Israel. He’d been proclaiming judgment and punishment. Destruction and captivity. Suddenly, though, he could declare comfort and intimacy. He had the opportunity to speak of the incomprehensible love of God, to declare its closeness and assurance. Where he’d only been able to speak of doom, he could now shout about joy.

What a treasure! What a delight! And I get to declare the same thing, but with even more clarity than Isaiah because I know the rest of the story! Instead of knowing that sometime in the future there will be a Savior, I get to look back and see how Isaiah’s prophecies were fulfilled through the incarnation of Christ.

I get to point to the exact moment in history when the comfort of God was sealed through the destruction of death. Wow!

This is the truth I want to live. Abundantly, powerfully, openly. Declaring God’s comfort to all, that they may have the chance to receive — no matter where they’ve been.

Posted in Faith Nuggets, Thoughts, Thoughts from Scripture

Obedience of the Small

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

Some days I reread my old posts and wonder what I was thinking. Other times, I am encouraged by remembering what God has taught me in the past. This is one of those encouraging lessons.

During my time in the religion department at Ouachita Baptist University, I had the privilege of taking a biblical interpretation course. Dr. Hays taught us to take a passage and see its layers. Simply by reading, reading again, and reading yet again, he showed us how new details could stand out to us even when we thought we had exhausted every avenue of thought in a verse or passage.

Noticing Details

I have not always exercised that developed eye for details, keeping it in shape to see the depths Dr. Hays taught us to see. Even so, there are times when things jump out at me because I have learned to take a second, third, and fourth look at passages.

Take this verse, for instance:

So they established a decree to circulate a proclamation throughout all Israel from Beersheba even to Dan, that they should come to celebrate the Passover to the Lord God of Israel at Jerusalem. For they had not celebrated it in great numbers as it was prescribed. 2 Chronicles 30:5

This passage rests in the middle of the story of Hezekiah’s reforms. As one of the few “good” kings of Judah, Hezekiah had decided that it was time for the kingdom to return to serving and worshiping God in holiness and purity. In 2 Chronicles 29, we see Hezekiah prodding the less-than-enthusiastic priests and Levites and motivating the people to cleanse their hearts in repentance and worship. It takes a bit of work, but finally we get to the point where the people have been purified, and they are ready to celebrate a nation-wide Passover for the first time in many generations.

So, what stands out to me here? The very end of the verse. “For they had not celebrated it in great numbers as it was prescribed.” (emphasis mine)

Do you know what that indicates?

Some still celebrated.

Celebration of the Few

The temple had been in various states of disrepair over the decades, and many years passed with priests completely unable to perform their duties. Yet it seems that some people possibly still faithfully celebrated the Passover.

If this is true, how must it have felt year after year for those few? They were being faithful. They were being obedient. Yet I cannot help but think that some of them must have longed for something they had never experienced – a Passover like God’s people held in the very beginning. A Passover with the whole community. A Passover in great numbers.

But they did not let those longings keep them from obedience. They persevered. They celebrated. They worshiped. They persisted in obedience. Even when the great numbers focused their attention and energy elsewhere.

We have no details showing us how life was for the small numbers who continued in worship. There is no story chronicling their faithfulness, other than the recognition that prophets still existed and the Word of God was still being proclaimed, even if to mostly deaf ears. But the normal everyday faithful aren’t really even hinted at until this moment, and even here it is just a passing statement that only infers their existence.

What About Us?

It is not glorious to obey in small numbers. In fact, it is just the opposite. It is lonely. It is challenging. It goes unnoticed.

But it is worth it.

Are your numbers small right now? Obey anyway. Do you feel isolated? Stand strong anyway. Is obedience challenging? Obey anyway.

The world may never notice. History may never record your perseverance. But it is worth it. Keep going! The day will come when the great numbers will join you. And I guarantee your joy will be complete in that day!

Posted in Thoughts from Books, Thoughts from Scripture

Questions and Answers

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

I recently reread a fiction series that has long been a favorite of my entire family. It’s called The Staff and the Sword, written by Patrick W. Carr.

I can still remember the first time I read the series. By the end of the first book I had more questions than answers. Of course, so did most of the characters. The second book clarified some things, but the third book…exploded. Preconceptions were challenged. Mental horizons were forced to expand. Traditions were shattered. But in the process, pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place.

The series is deep enough that I see new things every time I read it. But there is one bold and vivid concept that gets me every time I read the series: The question frames the answer. Without giving too much away (because it’s a series worth reading and I don’t want to spoil it for you if you decide to pick it up), bear with me a bit while I give some very basic context.

In the series, a group of characters known as readers are responsible for gleaning the will of God through the process of casting lots. This process involves holding a question and a potential answer firmly in mind while carving a perfectly round lot out of wood or stone.

The reader can then move on to create a lot with another possible answer to the same question, again holding both the question and answer firmly in mind. There’s a catch, though. The answers have to be somewhat known to the reader casting the lots. For instance, imagine casting lots to determine a destination. Should you go to this location or that one? The reader must know those destinations personally, or must have a solid enough description of them to picture them vividly and accurately while casting. That limits the cast a bit, does it not?

Early in the narrative, that seems to be the main catch. But, that pesky line keeps popping up through the course of the entire series, hinting that there’s more to contend with. The question frames the answer. Ultimately, this ends up being pivotal for the plot. But, with this reread of the series, I’ve gotten the uneasy feeling that this very concept is relevant to real life as well.

Most especially to our prayer life. Our own avenue to seeking and understanding the will of God.

I’ve always been one who likes checklists and step-by-step instructions. I like to do things the “right” way. In a way, this fictional depiction of casting lots appeals to me. There’s a right way to cast. Readers have an inherent capability that they are born with, but then they spend years studying both the history and mechanics of their craft, learning how to cast properly. It’s a factual process, with guidelines and rules to follow.

But, as the story progresses, it becomes evident that there is much more to the craft than simply doing it “right.” And that translates well into our prayers lives. As we pray, there is a need for understanding. A need to grasp the nature of the God we are seeking to communicate with. When Jesus says, “Ask and you will receive,” it’s in the middle of a whole lengthy discourse on the nature of thinking beyond our rules and regulations. It’s a discussion of understanding the heart of the Father we serve. Understanding His purpose behind the rules and instructions. Asking in prayer for guidance based on His character.

And our prayerful questions, both the specific words and the nature behind the asking, reveal greatly whether or not we know His character. Whether or not we are in tune enough to receive the answer. Because the answer to our questioning is very often something beyond our knowledge and understanding. It is something that may even be beyond our imagination. The answer is not just a direction about what to do or where to go next, it is a deeper understanding of the God we serve.

That’s more than a little uncomfortable, whether you are someone like me who loves the tangible or you’re someone who has an imaginative mind. God’s answers go beyond both. And He wants to teach us how to ask the questions that will reveal those powerful answers.

It’s an overwhelming path to follow, but I want to go. I want to follow the path that will teach me to better frame the question. The path that will help me seek answers beyond my limited understanding. The path that will draw me closer to communing with and knowing Almighty God. Will you come with me?