Category: Thoughts from Scripture

Posted in Faith Nuggets, Thoughts, Thoughts from Scripture

In

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

Some time ago, I was praying over some particularly challenging needs. As I prayed, one of my go-to passages popped into mind: Philippians 4:4-8. But, somehow, I didn’t get far past “rejoice in the Lord.”

Actually, I got hung up on one word: in.

It’s easy to fly over that phrase and not truly stop to ponder what it means. “Rejoice in the Lord.”

Okay, Lord, let me see what I can be thankful for right now. It’s hard, because I’m overwhelmed by the circumstances, but I’ll try. Maybe. Yes…here goes. Oh, Lord, HELP!!!!

Unfortunately, that’s usually how it sounds when I try to start my prayer with thankfulness. But, here’s the problem. I’m still focused on circumstances. I’m just trying to find some way to be thankful for them.

And there’s another problem. Thanksgiving is not actually what this phrase commands. The whole thankfulness instruction comes later in the “in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving” part. For now, it is simply “rejoice in the Lord.”

So many times I get stuck on word “rejoice.” I stop there and wonder why it is so hard to obey that simple command.

I confess I have to laugh a bit as I process through this. Why? Because this is a grammar issue more than a heart or mind issue. And as an editor, I’m all about grammar! Will you bear with me for a moment while we look at this phrase through an editor’s eyes?

For those of you who aren’t too fond of grammar, let me try to give a quick, simple explanation. We have two grammatical components to deal with here. First, we have an imperative. An imperative is a command, often encapsulated in a single word. Second, we see a prepositional phrase. A preposition is a word that lends a sense of direction, like in, of, for, to, under, over, etc. It is followed by a noun called the object of the preposition, telling you to whom or what the direction relates (under the table). Together, they make up the prepositional phrase.

The thing about a preposition is that, unlike a single-word imperative, the whole phrase is what’s actually important. A preposition on its own doesn’t mean much until you add the object. The single word leaves you waiting for more. The whole phrase put together is what gives a sense of meaning.

So, what’s in this verse?

Rejoice (imperative) in (preposition) the Lord (object of the preposition).

What happens if we don’t stop with the imperative, but continue on to the prepositional phrase? What if we make sure we move on to in the Lord without getting stuck on rejoice?

I know what happens to me. I get a refocus. I find myself in the center of Him instead of in the center of my circumstances. I am moved. Transformed. Lifted. The circumstances don’t change, but I do. And it makes all the difference.

When I rejoice in the Lord, the following commands come much more easily:
– let your gentle spirit be known to all men
– pray with thanksgiving
– think on these things

Yes, it’s all a natural progression, but only if I start by truly rejoicing in the Lord.

Posted in Faith Nuggets, Thoughts, Thoughts from Life, Thoughts from Scripture

Purpose Enough

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

I’ve done it all my life. When I hit a bump in the road, a struggle, a discouragement, or a time of suffering, I ask why. I think knowing the reason will help me cope. Make it worthwhile. Help me truly reach for joy in the suffering.

More than that, doesn’t seeing a reason help with my testimony to others? “Look what God is doing!” I could say — if I only knew what God actually was doing.

But what happens when a reason is not given?

I’ve been there. Instead of, “Look what God is doing,” I have to fall back on, “God is in control and He does love me, even if I don’t feel it right now.” That’s harder. So much harder. Especially when the pain goes on and on and on or when I hear the questions of why God would allow suffering in the first place.

I confess, the lack of being able to see God’s hand — an inability to see how He could be glorified through the situation or how the question of pain and suffering even fits with a glorious, loving God — has distracted me from resting in Him many times. I believed I needed evidence. But so many times, He has withheld that evidence from me.

Instead, He’s given Himself, which is actually the exact provision I truly need to process through the struggle.

Therefore, since Christ suffered in the flesh, arm yourselves also with the same understanding—because the one who suffers in the flesh is finished with sin—in order to live the remaining time in the flesh no longer for human desires, but for God’s will. 1 Peter 4:1-2 (CSB)

What if, contrary to what we often try to argue, God doesn’t send suffering so that He can turn around and glorify Himself through some grand, magnificent miracle? What if, instead, He takes the suffering that is already here, that this world is utterly steeped in, and uses it? Redeems it by driving us to cease from our sin? To continue to grow in righteousness? To become more like Him?

When we endure suffering faithfully, when we truly push through those times of pain and heartache and choose to trust God even in the middle of them, those fleshly lusts lose their allure, don’t they? We realize what is truly precious, and we cling to it, turning away from the sin that once ensnared us.

Yet how many times do we forget that truth when we are standing in the midst of a struggle? We ask for purpose for our suffering, a lesser gift, instead of seeking His righteousness to grow in us.

I would love to be free from suffering. I would love to completely remove the suffering from everyone around me. It’s bad. It’s not what God intended, and I imagine it grieves His heart. I hunger for the day when He fulfills His promise to make all things new. The day when suffering will be completely gone.

In the meantime, though, I hunger for righteousness. Even while I remain in this world of suffering, I want to become the type of person who thinks with joy of the day when both will be done away with and we will live in perfection with Christ our Savior. With God our Almighty Father and Creator.

No matter what the suffering, may that truth return to my memory and be purpose enough for me.

The Christian Standard Bible. Copyright © 2017 by Holman Bible Publishers. Used by permission. Christian Standard Bible®, and CSB® are federally registered trademarks of Holman Bible Publishers, all rights reserved.
Posted in Thoughts from Scripture

Belief

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

Abram believed the LORD, and he credited it to him as righteousness. Genesis 15:6 (CSB)

The biblical narrative of Abraham and Sarah is such a familiar one that it can be hard to study, teach, and discuss, especially among others who have familiarity with Scripture. Creation, the fall, the flood, Babel…then Abraham being singled out. We know it all well.

But there’s something about Abraham’s story that I have taken for granted. I haven’t really thought much about how much he knew.

Think about it. The Bible’s focus is God’s communication with us as His people. It’s not a history or science text. It doesn’t explain how the world was created or how exactly the flood covered the earth. We don’t get to know what happened in the cosmos when the sun stood still for Joshua or the shadow moved backward for Hezekiah. The star that appeared at Jesus’s birth remains a mystery to us.*

No, those stories do not tell us the how. But they do make it clear that Almighty God was directly involved with His creation in so many ways. And it’s not just the big, unexplainable events. There are also details that show He has chosen to be intimately accessible to His creation and His people. That accessibility only grew with His sending of the Holy Spirit in Acts, and we as modern Christians have 2000 years of church history giving testimony to the fact that His interaction with mankind didn’t stop with the writing of Revelation. It continues to this day!

We have so much. So very much.

We still struggle sometimes in our belief that this invisible God who exists beyond our ability to know or imagine truly wants to be in relationship with us. But, we have so very much evidence to support that truth.

What did Abram have? When he chose to believe the Lord at this moment in life — this moment when he and Sarai were childless and too old to imagine that would ever change — what evidence did he have about God to convince him that God’s promises could be trusted?

Did he have more than what we find today in the first eleven chapters of Genesis? Had he heard personal stories of God’s presence in the lives of people since the flood? Maybe he did. But, we also know that, while Noah was personally chosen to be the one to ensure that humanity continued after the flood, Abram was the one at the front edge of the grand narrative of God’s intimate and personal plan for salvation. Most of the action in the salvation story starts with him.

Abram had a flood story. He had knowledge of God’s judgment. But, he didn’t have all of the stories of God intervening on behalf of the children of Israel, his descendants. He didn’t know that God Himself would come to earth in the form of a baby. He didn’t see the expansion of the church after Pentecost.

All he had was a call and a handful of visions amid years of silence.

Yet he believed. And that belief, that allegiance to this unseen God, was credited to him as righteousness.

That’s the kind of belief I want. The kind of belief that says yes to the God who has proven His desire to interact with little ol’ me. Honestly, I wonder if that’s what Abram saw. Having lived in a society that believed in distant gods who held themselves aloof from mankind, he encountered something different. Almighty God talked to him. Chose him. Directed him. Instructed him. Spoke to him.

God does the same with me. Even if there was never another miracle, never another answered prayer, God talks to me. Me! Someone who has no reason to stand out. This Father God sent His Son to earth, His own essence incarnate, to ensure an eternal restoration of connection between mankind and Himself. He wants us to know Him. Not just to worship Him, although that is important. Not just to recognize Him as God, although that is critical. But to know Him. Personally. Intimately.

Even me.

What a tremendous reason to believe Him.

*I do love Patrick W. Carr’s interpretation of the star in his novel The End of the Magi. Fascinating idea, even if it is still just the product of one author’s imagination.

The Christian Standard Bible. Copyright © 2017 by Holman Bible Publishers. Used by permission. Christian Standard Bible®, and CSB® are federally registered trademarks of Holman Bible Publishers, all rights reserved.
Posted in Faith Nuggets, Thoughts from Scripture

Remembered

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

My morning devotional reading is quite varied. I do a personal Bible reading as well as reading for Sunday school and Bible studies. I usually read a devotional, and I keep two additional books going, one for spiritual growth and another for general personal growth.

All of those things vary and rotate depending on what’s in front of me at the moment. But, a number of years ago, I decided to add something consistent to my devotional reading: the Psalms. Every morning, I read from the Psalms. Some years it has been one a day, while other years I’ve slowed down and spent a week on each Psalm. Sometimes I’ve just focused on reading the Psalms themselves while other times I’ve included coordinating devotionals or commentary reading.

Through it all, it still amazes me that year after year I can see new things. These songs and prayers have become very familiar to me, and yet I still can be surprised by them.

Take Psalm 111, for example. It’s a beautiful “Hallelujah!” song of praise. But, for some reason, this year the contrast between Psalm 111 and the preceding Psalms hit me like it’s never hit me before.

In case you’ve never noticed, some of the Psalms can be quite brutal. Even in my darkest of times or heaviest of moods, I squirm at the extremity of some of the prayers I read in this emotion-filled ancient hymnal. But the greatest jolt comes when those deep, dark, and sometimes ugly prayers are followed immediately by ecstatic songs of praise.

Many of the Psalms preceding Psalm 111 are those dark, heavy prayers. In past readings, I’ve often felt a sense of relief in arriving at Psalm 111 after sitting through the heaviness of some pretty extreme lament. This year, though, the opening “Hallelujah!” hit me with a jolt and made me sit up and take notice. When I did, I was taken off guard, not by the disconnect, but by the continuity of this praise on the heels of grief. By the way it merges so well with the deep laments of some of the preceding Psalms.

The key for me was verse four: “He has caused his wondrous works to be remembered. The Lord is gracious and compassionate.” (CSB)

His wondrous works. Remembered.

We often think of words like wondrous, wonderful, and awesome in strictly positive terms. With that mindset, reference to God’s amazing and wondrous works bring to mind His miraculous hand rescuing His people. The parting of the Red Sea. The provision of nourishment. Healings. Resurrections. And those are all very, very valid remembrances and are some of the exact works that would have come to mind when the ancient Israelites recited or sang Psalm 111 together.

But, his wondrous works are also seen in His judgment. Why? Because the “works of his hands are truth and justice; all his instructions are trustworthy. They are established forever and ever, enacted in truth and in uprightness.” (verses 7-8)

Even when His works aren’t positive but instead bring the pain of judgment and leave us feeling forgotten and abandoned — themes many of the preceding Psalms explore — His wondrous works are still perfect and good and trustworthy.

We remember His wondrous works and we praise in ecstatic joy. But we also remember His wondrous works to give us something to cling to when it feels like everything is falling apart around us. We remember so that, even when we feel forgotten and abandoned, we can know somewhere in the depths of our beings that we aren’t.

He causes His wondrous works, whether miraculous works or works of judgment, to be remembered so that we can know we, too, are always remembered by Him. Whether we can lift up shouts of delight and joyful songs of praise or are simply grasping for whatever we can find to just help us survive in our depths, we remember. And our remembering assures us that we are remembered.

Wherever you are today, may this remembrance be yours. He is true. He is trustworthy. And He remembers you.

The Christian Standard Bible. Copyright © 2017 by Holman Bible Publishers. Used by permission. Christian Standard Bible®, and CSB® are federally registered trademarks of Holman Bible Publishers, all rights reserved.
Posted in Faith Nuggets, Thoughts, Thoughts from Scripture

What He Has Done

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

Revisiting another old post…this is a reminder that I needed today.

Every morning, I copy a few verses of Scripture. I love copying. It slows me down and makes me really think about what I am reading. Recently, Psalm 92:4 was the verse that made me pause.

Psalm 92 is a psalm of praise, which is nothing unusual. Psalms such as these abound, not only in the book of Psalms but throughout Scripture. I often seek out these songs when I am struggling to praise. They help me focus and redirect.

But, something about verse four of this particular psalm helped me realize why I do sometimes struggle with praise. Take a look at the verse with me.

For You, O Lord, have made me glad by what You have done, I will sing for joy at the works of Your hands.

The psalmist is focusing on what God has done, again a common theme in psalms of praise. But, truly pondering this truth made me realize something about myself.

I too often focus on what God has not done.

Sadly, focusing on what He hasn’t done comes quite easily. And the more we do it, the more easily it comes. Why? Because we love to focus on prayer requests. And not just prayer requests, but specific prayer requests. Physical healing. Marital healing. Provision. Open doors. Salvation.

When the answers we expect don’t come quickly, we pray harder. And we focus more and more on the reality that the healing is not coming. The marriage still fell apart. We were forced to make alternate decisions because the provision or open doors we expected were not there. And that loved one is still hardened to Christ Jesus.

Yes, it is very easy to notice all of the things He has not done.

It is much harder to stop, step back, and acknowledge what He has done, especially in the midst of disappointment over seemingly unanswered prayer. But that, my friends, is exactly what we must do.

What has God done around you this week? How has He shown His might? His power? His love? His creativity? His sense of humor? His majesty? His grace? His mercy? His protectiveness? His jealousy? His desire for a relationship with you?

How has He sought your attention? How has He reminded you of His Word? How has He used others around you to reveal Himself?

Once you start looking, you will be amazed by the infinite ways He has shown Himself this week. The incredible evidences of His handiwork will be overwhelming.

And, amazingly, the more you notice what He has done, the easier it will become – until one day you wake up and realize there is little, if anything, He hasn’t done.

Posted in Thoughts from Life, Thoughts from Scripture

The Heart of a Friend

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

Some days, my heart is just heavy.

A part of me wants to just bury my head in the sand and ignore all of the yuck. But, in doing so, I end up trading sadness for naiveté, and that won’t do me any good either. My best choice is to sit with my heavy heart and ask God to speak into it.

And when I choose to sit with Him, He does speak, so very faithfully. He shows me Himself and His own heart while also showing me the areas in which my heart does not align with His. He shows me where, as I grow to better see and identify with His heart of love for those in this world who do not yet know Him, I’ve also been growing in bitterness toward those who are blocking that love. Those whose words and actions drive souls away from our Savior instead of toward Him.

He’s shown me that none of them are to be my enemies.

The things He’s shown me have led me to ponder what it means to have the heart of a friend. The heart of someone who grieves over another’s pain. The heart of someone who is pained by injustice. The heart of someone who aches over the reality that so many in this world are caught up in the hands of evil. The heart of someone who takes all of those realities to the Lord God Almighty, seeking His perspective, His heart, and His miraculous path to both justice and mercy.

This is where I struggle. This is where I’m convicted. Portions of the Sermon on the Mount speak into that conviction:

You have heard that it was said, An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth. But I tell you, don’t resist an evildoer. On the contrary, if anyone slaps you on your right cheek, turn the other to him also. As for the one who wants to sue you and take away your shirt, let him have your coat as well. And if anyone forces you to go one mile, go with him two. Give to the one who asks you, and don’t turn away from the one who wants to borrow from you.

You have heard that it was said, Love your neighbor and hate your enemy. But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be children of your Father in heaven. For he causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous. For if you love those who love you, what reward will you have? Don’t even the tax collectors do the same? And if you greet only your brothers and sisters, what are you doing out of the ordinary? Don’t even the Gentiles do the same? Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.
Matthew 5: 38-48 (CSB)

As I read this recently, a question popped into my head: If my dearest friend had a need, how would I want to meet it? I would want to go over and above. I would want to lavish not only the need but any extra possible. I might not always be able to, but I want to. That’s my heart.

What if I viewed everyone that way? What if I made that the practical application of these verses from Matthew 5? To go above and beyond in my care and concern for all I come in contact with?

Much of the heaviness on my heart has been there for years now as I’ve watched people on all political sides sling mud on social media with such vitriol as they slam anyone who doesn’t love their favorite politician (or worse, does love “the other guy”). This is nothing new. It’s been going on for decades. It’s just so much more visible and available with social media.

It was there as I watched the hatred flow from all sides during the pandemic. It’s there every time a non-Christian publicly acts like, well, a non-Christian and Christians yell about being persecuted.

Every time someone else does something we don’t like, we use it as an opportunity to gripe, complain, degrade, and label. We forget that we’re supposed to be different. We forget that when we join in the flow of anger and hatred, we are not doing anything out of the ordinary. We are no different from the “Gentiles” we so greatly hate.

And yet, we’re commanded to be “perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.”

To treat all people as we would treat our dearest friend. To pray for them. To serve them. To love them.

Some days, I struggle to love those who hate Christ. Other days I struggle to love those who claim Christ but show hatred to their fellow man. Some days I just struggle to love them all. But Jesus Christ, Almighty Creator of all things, the one who loved so enormously that He gave His life for all of us, commands me to be like Him.

That’s my hunger, to obey and love like He did. Not to try to voice my opinion in an argument or get other people to think like me or make sure to let them know how wrong they are. Instead, to pray that they, too, will know His love. That they will see His heart. That they will hunger for His presence.

I’m far from perfect yet. But that’s my goal. And I’m so thankful for the love of the One who can so fill me with Himself that He can help me reach that goal.

The Christian Standard Bible. Copyright © 2017 by Holman Bible Publishers. Used by permission. Christian Standard Bible®, and CSB® are federally registered trademarks of Holman Bible Publishers, all rights reserved.
Posted in Thoughts from Life, Thoughts from Scripture

The Meditation of My Heart

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

I love justice. I hate injustice. Like so many Christians, injustice makes me angry, and I’m tempted to quickly jump on a bandwagon and cry for change! Demand justice for those who have been harmed!

Unfortunately, I’ve encountered a problem over the years. I’ve discovered that, in this world marred by sin, justice and injustice are not black and white. There isn’t a hard, fixed line between them that makes it easy to always know which is which.

That reality is hard to wrap our minds around. We’d rather take the quick snippets and statements, interpret them as cut and dried facts, and jump on them. And, friends, there has been a lot to jump on over the past decade or so, especially as easy access to information (whether factual or not) floods our days and our senses with what we perceive to be evil injustice — and as others manipulate that information to intentionally create that exact response.

Our quick jumping has created a rage culture. And we as Christians are taking the lead in that culture. We very, very easily see the injustice and we very, very quickly jump into the rage. It doesn’t take much to set us off.

I struggle with anger. It took heavy conviction from the Holy Spirit to force me to rethink my parenting, to learn how to not discipline out of a place of anger. To become aware of how being quick to anger damages my marriage.

But, does it really help to learn how to not act in anger toward my children and my husband if I am constantly expressing my anger toward the rest of the world?

A framed verse hangs on the wall just inside our bedroom door. I see it every time I walk out of the room. Admittedly, I don’t always notice it these days. It’s just there, as it has been for years. But my eyes still take it in, and my brain still knows what’s on it. It’s Psalm 19:14:

May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable to you, Lord, my rock and my Redeemer.

That verse has been tossing about in the back of my mind lately as our church Bible study group discusses Ephesians and Paul’s message of unity among believers. It has played back as my husband and I process through Jesus’s instructions in the Sermon on the Mount, teaching us how to treat one another, both those who believe like we do and those who are our “enemies.” It has stayed in the picture as I develop Sunday school lessons discussing how the church should be presenting ourselves to the world around us.

With every lesson, the Lord reminds me that it’s not just cleaning up my words as I relate to my family. It’s also ensuring that the meditation of my heart glorifies Him. And a heart that is so quickly inclined to anger, so quickly pushed to rage, so ready to scream “justice!” is not a heart meditating in a way that is acceptable to my Lord, my rock and my Redeemer.

Because His heart is one that sees all. Knows all. Processes the deepest, darkest corners. He recognizes the nuances of life that we try to force into black and white. He sees the hearts of those we so quickly rage against. He knows their struggles. He died for them, too, and longs for them to be His children. That’s the meditation He hungers to share with us.

He knows anger. It’s written all over His Word. He is the only God of true justice. That too is exemplified through His interactions with humanity. But, oh His mercy! His beautiful, amazing mercy flows through it all. It interacts with His righteous anger and His perfect justice in a way we cannot even begin to comprehend. We simply must accept it.

And He gives that mercy to us so freely to enable us to see with His eyes. To remind us that justice is His, not ours. Our place is not to rage, because our rage will not accomplish true, righteous justice. Our place instead is to reach out with His hands of mercy. We are to touch those beaten down by injustice while also praying for and seeking to shine love into the hearts of those who cause injustice.

That is not my natural inclination. But, the more my heart meditates on the Lord’s love and mercy, the more I can turn my anger over to Him. The more I can surrender justice into His capable hands. The more I can guide my heart to ache over others’ need for Him rather than raging against them for their actions. The more both my words and the meditation of my heart will be pleasing to Him.

Lord, may my meditations not longer be rage. May they instead be love. May they be mercy. Above all, may they be pleasing to You, readily reflecting Your love and mercy to this world mired in the mud of injustice.

Posted in Thoughts from Scripture

Why Can’t You?

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

“If I can do it, anyone can do it!”

The words are meant to encourage. To motivate. To make something seem not so hard. I’ve been on the frustrated receiving end of those words. I’ve also been guilty of saying them.

I’m not known for my grace and coordination. I remember my father frequently informing me that coordination strikes every ten seconds, and one of these days it would hit me! It doesn’t very often, for the record. But, that means that if a task requires coordination, I assume that if I can do it, anyone can. (Cue driving a stick shift. My father tried to teach me. He’s one of the most patient men I know, despite his teasing about my lack of coordination. But he did give up on teaching me to manage the clutch. He successfully taught me how to drive an automatic — and how to parallel park, thank you very much. But it was several years later, well after I was a confident driver, that my future husband finally taught me how to drive his five-speed truck.)

If I can do it, anyone can do it…right?

A book I was reading this morning made reference to Hebrews 4:14-16. Even though I knew what the passage said, I’m trying to make a habit of always rereading Scripture references brought up in books or articles I’m reading, paying attention to context and depth. So, I turned to the passage and read the familiar verses.
14 Therefore, since we have a great high priest who has passed through the heavens—Jesus the Son of God—let us hold fast to our confession. 15 For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who has been tempted in every way as we are, yet without sin. 16 Therefore, let us approach the throne of grace with boldness, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in time of need. (CSB)

I suddenly felt slapped in the face. Shame spread over me, tears sprung to my eyes, and I couldn’t even bring myself to go back to the book I’d been reading. Why this visceral reaction? Because the voice I heard in my head was not one of encouragement, reminding me of the amazing loveliness of our High Priest. Instead it was an ugly voice.

“If He could do it, why can’t you? You claim to have His power, but you fall to your weaknesses. You succumb to temptation. You are never without sin. No boldness for you!”

Ouch! I knew it wasn’t truth. I really did. And yet, how often is this our go-to thought? As we discuss passages that talk about righteousness and our place before a holy God, we are much quicker to think of ourselves as sinners who just barely scraped our way in because of the grace of God than we are to think of ourselves as children of God who can approach the throne of grace with boldness.

You think I’m wrong? Listen to our music. Our prayers. Our discussions in Bible studies and Sunday school. The way we never, ever want to refer to ourselves as righteous. It’s only Jesus who is righteous. We deserve nothing because we can accomplish nothing.

And it shows in our other conversations, as well. Oddly enough, looking at one another and saying, “If I can do it, anyone can do it,” is more a reflection of our own frailty and lack than it is of believing in one another. We think so lowly of ourselves that we firmly believe that we can only accomplish things that are unbelievably easy.

And so, when we come to the holy, precious, truthful Word of God and see the hard things we’re called to do in the power of the Spirit, we falter. We remind ourselves that we’re not Jesus, so we can’t go boldly before His throne of grace.

We neglect the truth, the very point, of passages like this. Jesus gets it! He knows right where we are! He’s been there, knows exactly what is needed to navigate this exact struggle, this exact weakness, this exact journey of grief. And because He succeeded, He knows just what we need to get through it. So, instead of looking at us and saying, “If I can do it, anyone can,” He looks at us and says, “You can’t do this on your own. You need Me. My mercy. My grace. The very things I had at my disposal when I took on Your weakness. And I am giving you what no one else can: full and open access to all of it. All you have to do is come to Me and desire it. Ask for it. Receive it from My hand.”

Where are you struggling? Where are you weak? What are you failing to do no matter how hard you try? What are you seeming to do successfully on the surface while recognizing deep down that the cost is too high for you to keep it up?

Why can’t you just do it? Because you, like me, have fallen prey to the lie that you have no right to go boldly before the throne of grace. But Jesus says otherwise.

Let’s go boldly before His throne today.

Posted in Thoughts from Scripture

Growing

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

I am growing. It’s a natural part of life. We should always be growing mentally, emotionally, spiritually…in many ways. Growth is life, and we should seek it, even when it’s not the most comfortable thing in the world.

Over the years, though, I’ve learned a truth about growth. Just about the time you think you’ve made good progress and you can claim a measure of maturity in an area, something comes along to show you just how much you have left to learn. This is most especially true when it comes to spiritual growth. The Holy Spirit is such an amazing teacher, isn’t He? He gives us just what we need each step of the way to learn the next lesson. But, on the flip side, this means that we don’t see the fullness of the growing challenge ahead of us. We see the next step or two. Not the full hill. He’s patient with us and kind to us and helps us not feel so overwhelmed on the journey. But, we still have to recognize that our growth won’t stop with the next lesson learned.

Recently I was preparing a Bible study lesson/discussion on 1 Corinthians 1:10-25, the next passage in the guide I was working through for this particular group time. I went in with a general theme to work from, but mostly I did what I normally do when exploring a passage for personal study or teaching. I started reading through the passage repeatedly, asking the Lord to show me where He wanted me to go with the discussion time.

Sometimes I pray that prayer very specifically in hopes that He’ll give me just what I’m supposed to share in the Bible study or discussion time. But I know better. He never stops there. He also always gives me my own little private training session. Or discipline session. Or kick in the behind. Whatever you want to call it. It’s real. And it’s not always fun.

But it’s always good and necessary.

In this particular instance, I was doing a little research on Corinth, learning about the Corinthians’ love for a good debate and their societal tendency to elevate those who were the most eloquent in said debates. I jokingly thought to myself how poor of a fit I’d have been in Corinth. I hate debates and arguments. I want to just make a statement that will help both sides understand each other and move on. Agree to disagree, people. It’s okay! You can have different views and still get along. Let’s make it happen!

I processed through this passage, expecting to make my mental observation about not wanting to move to first-century Corinth and move on. But no. The Lord gave me that nudge that said, “Let’s take a look at this for a minute.”

Uh-oh.

The hinge point was verses 22-23: “For the Jews ask for signs and the Greeks seek wisdom, but we preach Christ crucified, a stumbling block to the Jews and foolishness to the Gentiles.”

And the thought came to my mind: What is your goal when you try to bring peace to an argument? Is it to bring peace? Or to proclaim Christ?

Oof. I knew immediately that this thought was not one for building a lesson or laying the groundwork for a discussion. This was for me. This was to wake me up to my own priorities. I hunger to stop conflict. To make things feel better and help people see eye to eye. That’s enough, right? Nope. Not if my calling, my whole purpose in life, is to point people to Jesus Christ. If that’s my purpose, then it’s not about this side or that. It’s about Jesus. Period. A no-brainer, right? And yet, it was still a lesson I needed to be taught.

This is the reality of spiritual growth. It can come from unexpected directions at unexpected times. It can catch us right in the middle of a moment when our focus is on something completely different. It can catch us by surprise. But, if we’re listening, we always know when that moment hits. We suddenly see something very clearly and wonder that we didn’t know it all along. And then we are confronted with the challenge of implementing this new understanding in our lives.

That’s growth. It’s not huge or magic or like a bolt of lightning striking us with an epiphany. It doesn’t always “preach.” It doesn’t even have to be specifically while we’re studying Scripture. I’ve had these nudges in the middle of cooking a meal, teaching my children, or driving down the road.

Growth is listening. It’s being aware when the Spirit says, “Let’s take this further.” It’s recognizing that the Lord Jesus Christ knows each of us better than anyone. He knows what we know and what we have yet to learn. He knows what we’re going through and what we’ll be facing next week. He knows what we need to pay attention to. And He will tell us.

And when we listen, we grow. It’s not always pleasant. It’s not always fun. It sometimes hurts.

But it’s always, always good.

Posted in Thoughts from Life, Thoughts from Scripture

The Choice

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

When my anxious thoughts multiply within me, Your consolations delight my soul. Psalm 94:19 (NASB)

This was the first verse on my mind this morning. I felt the anxiety tighten its band around me, even though I had no idea where it was coming from or what specific thing was causing it. So, I breathed this verse and asked the Lord to whisper to me the truths of His consolations. The things I sometimes don’t automatically remember when I’m in the middle of anxiety.

When the anxiety hits, instead of the consolations I usually see the circumstances. And never the good parts, no matter how numerous they might be. I only see the negative parts of our circumstances. The struggles. The discouragements. The places where we are lacking. I know this shouldn’t be my focus, but it can be hard to redirect. To actually enumerate the consolations of our amazing, victorious, loving God.

When I look in Scripture, I see many who were stuck in their circumstances. Abraham in the waiting. Jacob in his bondage to Laban. Joseph in slavery and prison. David in being pursued, first by Saul, then by one challenge after another. The Israelites in slavery and exile. The prophets in abuse and rejection of the people. And on and on and on.

But what I don’t see is evidence of rejection by God. They might have felt forsaken and abandoned by God, forgotten in their mire. But they weren’t. They just needed a different perspective.

This is what the psalmist recognized when penning the words of Psalm 94. Perspective was everything, and that perspective revolved around choosing to remember and receive God’s consolations. The truth about God.

That’s where I am today. The specific circumstances that weigh down on my heart and mind change through the years. But they are always there, in one form or another. They impact my heart, my mind, and even my health. They have wounded my husband and our children. We have often felt completely powerless to change them or to even protect our children.

Yet God is calling me to remember His consolations, no matter what today’s circumstances are. He’s calling me to remember who He is. His goodness. His truth. His purposes. His love. Circumstances may or may not reflect those things in the moment. But, He is above circumstances, and circumstances don’t change Truth.

The problem is not with the reality of God. The problem lies in the choice before me today. Before all of us in the throes of a struggle. Will we choose His consolations?

It’s hard work, and it’s easy to grow weary. But today I will choose His consolations.

I can’t speak for tomorrow or the next day, only for today. And today I will choose and pray that they really do delight this anxious soul.