Psalm 44, and a prayer for Afghani believers

On first glance, Psalm 44 seems to have a conflicting message. It begins with praise for God’s work of delivering Canaan into the hand of Israel (vv 1-3) followed by a confession that the psalmist does not trust in himself, but in God for deliverance (vv. 4-8).

But then the psalm takes a difficult twist in verses 9-19, as the psalmist complains that God has nonetheless rejected them (v 9), saying “You sell Your people cheaply” (v 12). God’s actions towards them seem to contrast with their continued faithfulness to Him (vv 17-18).

In the final section (vv 20-26) the psalmist asserts their faithfulness (vv 20-21), even while “for Your sake we are killed all day long; we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered” (v 22). The psalm ends with a desperate plea, “Arouse Yourself, why do you sleep, O Lord? Awake, do not reject us forever” (v 23), followed by the petition, “Rise up, be our help, and redeem us for the sake of Your lovingkindness” (v 26).

This is not what we expect to see. Why does God treat His people so, when they are seeking to be faithful? Derek Kidner’s comments on this seemingly conflicted psalm are excellent

“The psalm is exploring the baffling fluctuations that have their counterpart in Christian history: periods of blessings and barrenness, advance and retreat, which may correspond to no apparent changes of men’s loyalty or methods. Although its picture of the sleeping Lord may seem naive to us, it was acted out in the New Testament, to teach a lesson which we still find relevant: cf. verse 23 with Mark 4:38.

But the crux is in verse 22, with the phrase for thy sake. The psalm does not develop it, but it implies the revolutionary thought that suffering may be a battle-scar rather than a punishment: the price of loyalty in a world which is at war with God. If this is so, a reverse as well as a victory may be a sign of fellowship with him, not of alienation.” [Kidner, Psalms 1-72, Intervarsity Press, 2008, p.187. Emphasis mine.]

Paul cites Psalm 44:22 in Romans 8:36 and brings the psalmist’s complaint to its biblical theological conclusion, revealing God’s deeper purposes: “Who will separate us from the love of Christ? Will tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? Just as it is written, “For Your sake we are being put to death all day long; We were considered as sheep to be slaughtered.” But in all these things we overwhelmingly conquer through Him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other created thing, will be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” (Romans 8:35–39)

God was pleased to crush His own suffering Son on the cross (Isaiah 53:10), despite Jesus’ absolute faithfulness to His Father. Jesus Christ was led like a lamb to the slaughter (Isaiah 53:7), to pay for the sins of His people (Isaiah 53:4-6). But that was not the end of the story. By His death, resurrection and ascension to the right hand of the Father, Jesus Christ overwhelmingly conquered death and hell in order to save His precious people. And because of His victory, God’s people likewise overwhelmingly conquer, even in the face of death and intense persecution.

May our faithful God grant to the precious Afghani believers protection, shelter, and safety from raging lion who walks about, seeking to devour them. And when God in His wise and faithful providence determines not to grant temporal protection, may He give His people courage, strength, endurance, grace, mercy, and comfort as they faithfully bear their honorable battle-scars for His name’s sake. He will wipe away every tear.

“After you have suffered for a little while, the God of all grace, who called you to His eternal glory in Christ, will Himself perfect, confirm, strengthen and establish you.” (1 Peter 5:10)

Review of Priceless Jewel, by John Marshall with Marilyn Marshall

There are some things we cannot know apart from experiencing them. Among them is what it is like to be seriously chronically ill, or to be the caregiver of one who is. John and Marilyn Marshall’s book, Priceless Jewel, cracks open the door to give us an inside look at two lives and a marriage in which grievous suffering—for decades—was the order of the day.

In addition to the physical pain, the book explores the spiritual agony of the sufferer wondering why (“Lord, why are you doing this?”), what (“Lord, what do you want me to do in the midst of this?”), how long (“Lord, when will this trial come to an end?”), and the other questions and doubts that plague a faithful believer when encountering pain most of us can’t even imagine. As readers, we get to observe how genuine faith is buttressed by Scripture, loving friends, a faithful church, and competent, caring members of the medical community.

The major sections of the book are organized around Paul’s formula in 1 Corinthians 13:13: “But now faith, hope, love, abide these three; but the greatest of these is love.” Each chapter contains citations from rich resources such as Streams in the Desert, Amy Carmichael, Puritan writers, and other giants of the faith. The Marshalls’ writing is crisp and engaging. While the book belongs in the genre of personal memoir, it’s truly an excellent theology of suffering set in the real-world story of a two lovers who had to wrestle with the consequences of an increasingly confined and painful life.

Much of the book was taken from Marilyn’s journal. She recorded not just the physical struggles but the deeper spiritual wrestling matches that occurred as she experienced serious physical illness without any certain diagnosis. Her struggles were exacerbated by laymen and sometimes even medical professionals who advised her that it was “all in her head.” By the time the primary diagnosis of lupus was nailed down (after several decades of suffering), she was experiencing a cascade of concomitant diseases and prescription drug reactions. In her journal Marilyn gives full voice to her struggles with fear, doubt, anger, confusion, and the supremacy of faith. John provides us with the viewpoint of a caregiver who must live caught between the demands of employment, care of the house, preparing meals, and the intensity and heartache of ministering to the one he dearly loves even while he watches her gradually crushed in the slow-motion train-wreck of her illnesses.

Amid the severe trials she maintained a steady faith in the goodness and sovereignty of God and was committed to sharing the joy of Christ with everyone who crossed her path. Marilyn was a true missionary, not to souls in some dark rain forest but to white- and blue-gowned professionals in bright, pristine, antiseptic halls. As the book records, Christ touched dozens of lives through her witness.

Thankfully, few of us will experience or even know someone who suffers a situation as extreme as Marilyn Marshall’s. But most of us do know people doing battle with chronic illness, either as victim or caregiver. This book will be both a comfort and a challenge to those who are caught in the grip of God’s severe mercy. Five stars—highly recommended.

[Full disclosure: I am a friend of the author.]

Are you stuck in the cosmic machine?

Have you ever felt that life was essentially unjust? That you were being ground to dust between the gears of a cosmic machine that was deaf to your cries of pain? Are you approaching a point at which your only shred of control in a personal world spinning out of control is to rebel against life itself, to hate life?

Oddly enough, you might come to this conclusion whether you are immersed in pleasure or drowning in suffering, soaked in sin or walking in righteousness. The world’s wisest fool (Solomon), and the world’s most righteous sinner (Job) both came to the same conclusion: they hated life.

King Solomon is described in Ecclesiastes chapters one and two as a man with such immense wealth that Bill Gates looks impoverished by comparison. In his own words, Solomon withheld no pleasure from himself: All that my eyes desired I did not refuse them. I did not withhold my heart from any pleasure . . . (Eccl 2:10). Solomon pursued meaning in accomplishments, buildings, agriculture, sex, alcohol, various pleasures, fame, wealth, wisdom and knowledge—in other words, in virtually every arena of human endeavor. To top it all off, he had power untold as the king of Israel’s golden age. And what did it all produce? Despair. In his own words: So I hated life. . . (Eccl 2:17).

Job is described as a wealthy man, the greatest of all the men in the east (Job 1:3). God’s own valuation of His servant is remarkable: Have you considered My servant Job? For there is no one like him on the earth, a blameless and upright man, fearing God and turning away from evil (Job 1:8). And yet when great suffering descended upon Job, his steps faltered and he expresses despair very similar to Solomon’s: I loathe my own life; (Job 10:1).

What gives? How is it these two very different men with very different experiences wind up in despair expressed in very similar ways?

In essence, Solomon was living “under the sun.” In other words he was not denying God’s existence but was denying that God makes a difference. The fact that God exists was to Solomon irrelevant to life in a fallen world. God was to Solomon a transcendent distant judge who would render final verdicts, but not an immanent Shepherd who cares for our souls. Life was a cosmic machine in which it doesn’t really matter what we do, because all that we accomplish would be left to the one who follows us, and who knows whether that one will be wise or foolish? God was there, Solomon acknowledged, but his goodness was in question.

Job was utterly convinced of God’s sovereignty: “With Him are wisdom and might; To Him belong counsel and understanding. Behold, He tears down, and it cannot be rebuilt; He imprisons a man, and there can be no release. Behold, He restrains the waters, and they dry up; And He sends them out, and they inundate the earth” (Job 12:13–15).

But he had lost confidence in God’s goodness. Job felt that God was being unjust, “What did I do to deserve this?” How then can I answer Him, And choose my words before Him? For though I were right, I could not answer; I would have to implore the mercy of my judge. If I called and He answered me, I could not believe that He was listening to my voice. For He bruises me with a tempest And multiplies my wounds without cause. He will not allow me to get my breath, But saturates me with bitterness. If it is a matter of power, behold, He is the strong one! And if it is a matter of justice, who can summon Him? Though I am righteous, my mouth will condemn me; Though I am guiltless, He will declare me guilty. I am guiltless; I do not take notice of myself; I despise my life. It is all one; therefore I say, ‘He destroys the guiltless and the wicked’ (Job 9:14–22).

The similarity between the wise fool and the righteous sinner that led them both to despair in such different circumstances lies in the fact that they had lost touch with the nearness of God, the immanent care of God, the love of God, the overwhelming goodness of God. Solomon couldn’t see it because he was living as if the existence of God bore little significance to life other than ultimate judgment. Job couldn’t see it because he assumed his suffering was unjust: he had no category in his theology of suffering that would encompass suffering not because of personal sin but for the glory of God (a theology that waited upon the coming of Christ). Indeed, the challenges Job hurls at God are answered in Christ: Have You eyes of flesh? Or do You see as a man sees? Are Your days as the days of a mortal, Or Your years as man’s years, That You should seek for my guilt And search after my sin? According to Your knowledge I am indeed not guilty, Yet there is no deliverance from Your hand (Job 10:4–7). Christ indeed was not guilty, yet there was no deliverance for Him because redemption for Solomon, Job, you and I was hinging upon the death of the sinless Lamb of God.

There was a time that David was caught up in despair too, as he relates in Psalm 73: But as for me, my feet came close to stumbling, My steps had almost slipped. For I was envious of the arrogant As I saw the prosperity of the wicked (Psalm 73:2–3). But after working through his anger, bitterness, and his sneaking suspicion that God was unjust, David comes to a conclusion that is helpful for you and I when we feel hopelessly and helplessly tied to the rails of God’s sovereignty: Whom have I in heaven but You? And besides You, I desire nothing on earth. My flesh and my heart may fail, But God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever. For, behold, those who are far from You will perish; You have destroyed all those who are unfaithful to You. But as for me, the nearness of God is my good; I have made the Lord God my refuge, That I may tell of all Your works (Psalm 73:25–28).

If you know Christ, you are not stuck in a cosmic machine. Rather, you are an actor on the stage of a cosmic contest in which God’s righteous judgment is being vindicated, and His mercy and grace are being revealed. The most fundamental piece of your faith to cling to when life is tumbling down around your ears is also the simplest piece of theology: God is good. You are good and do good; Teach me Your statutes (Psalm 119:68).

His infinite worth is best proclaimed by those who are satisfied in Him, even in times of great suffering. Your life is not devoid of meaning, as Solomon thought, nor is it empty or futile. Because of Christ, all that you do, all that you suffer, all that you attempt in Christ’s name has significance, whether or not you see the result in this life. That's part of what it means to walk by faith.

Therefore, my beloved brethren, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that your toil is not in vain in the Lord. (1 Corinthians 15:58)

Pie in the Sky? No.

Skeptics have a field day with Christianity. As the skeptic sees it, Christians enjoy no special protection,  no blessings, no advantages, and are often, rather, persecuted for our strange beliefs. And when we claim—rightly—that our ultimate blessings come in the next life, we are met with rolling eyes and a sarcastic, “Sure they will.” The claims of the Christian are placed by the skeptic under the rubric, Pie in the Sky in the Sweet By and By. In a word, they consider us deluded.

But think about it from the perspective of the skeptic. Other than the historical record of the Bible itself, none of our truth claims can be verified in this life. We are saying that they will be fulfilled in a future that, as far as the skeptic is concerned, doesn’t even exist. That’s pretty handy for us. We can claim whatever we wish about the life to come, and no one is able to disprove us. For the skeptic, our faith is nothing more than the hollow shell of wishful thinking. The gospel is foolishness to those who are perishing (1 Corinthians 1:18).

And yet the coming Kingdom of Christ is as certain and secure as tomorrow’s sunrise—more so, really. It is at this point the suffering saint is confronted with an unavoidable question: will you walk by faith or not? Will you walk in the “assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things unseen” (Hebrews 11:1). It’s easy to do when your bank account is fat and your health is good. Not so easy when you’ve lost your job and you are burying a loved one.

The sons of Korah knew of this pattern of suffering now, blessings later. The psalmist writes in the midst of suffering in Psalm 42:3, My tears have been my food day and night, While they say to me all day long, “Where is your God?” But he knows where his ultimate hope is located: Why are you in despair, O my soul? And why have you become disturbed within me? Hope in God, for I shall again praise Him For the help of His presence (verse 5).

Calvin writes of the pattern of delayed blessings in his Institutes, Book II, chapter X, paragraph 17 (emphasis mine):

Therefore, . . . , let us learn that the holy fathers under the Old Testament were not ignorant that in this world God seldom or never gives his servants the fulfillment of what is promised them, and therefore has directed their minds to his sanctuary, where the blessings not exhibited in the present shadowy life are treasured up for them. This sanctuary was the final judgment of God, which, as they could not at all discern it by the eye, they were contented to apprehend by faith. Inspired with this confidence, they doubted not that whatever might happen in the world, a time would at length arrive when the divine promises would be fulfilled. This is attested by such expressions as these: “As for me, I will behold thy face in righteousness: I shall be satisfied when I awake with thy likeness” (Psalm xvii. 15).

Calvin goes on to list a number of similar verses that demonstrate the Old Testament saint knew he was waiting on death to experience God’s ultimate promises.

Therefore, suffering saint, let not the skeptic cow you with his snarky doubt. Let not the bleakness of the day nor the blackness of the night shake you. The promises are true and firm. He has graven you upon the palms of His hands (Isaiah 49:16); He will not forget you nor your suffering. How shall He, who gave His very Son for us, not freely give us all things (Romans 8:32). Wait patiently, suffering saint, today you walk by faith, but a tomorrow is coming when faith shall be sight.

Be of sober spirit, be on the alert. Your adversary, the devil, prowls about like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour. But resist him, firm in your faith, knowing that the same experiences of suffering are being accomplished by your brethren who are in the world. And after you have suffered for a little while, the God of all grace, who called you to His eternal glory in Christ, will Himself perfect, confirm, strengthen and establish you. (1 Peter 5:8-10)

A Motivation for the Study of Theology

[From my introduction to the student notes for ATT Session 7, on the Incommunicable Attributes of God]

There is an important lesson waiting for us in Scripture, and it has to do with knowing God. The lesson is this: the true knowledge of God, when wholeheartedly embraced, is in itself sufficient to enable us to meet life's suffering and disappointments. 

We humans get this backwards. In our minds, what is necessary to meet the need of human suffering is human comfort. It certainly is important to care and express human sympathy, support, and compassion. And it is quite right and loving to do so.

But the Book of Job has something to contribute to this discussion of the sufficiency of the knowledge of God. Job suffered as few have. He lost his children, his wealth, and his health. All in a single day. His wife's helpful advice was, "Curse God and die!" (Job 2:9).

Job had three outstanding friends who sought to comfort him, investing a huge amount of time with him, grieving silently with him for seven straight days and nights. Then they sought to help him by bringing some perspective to his suffering. It is easy to blame Job's friends, but you must admit that they had earned a hearing by their obvious care for him. But their attempts at comfort fell short. They blamed Job for sin he had not committed, and Job retreated into self-righteousness, ultimately intimating that God was unfair.

But it was God who brought resolution and comfort to the situation. God sent a young man by the name of Elihu to set the stage by defending God's sovereign righteousness. God Himself then finally appeared and spoke to Job. What God said to Job is jarring to our perception of how a suffering person should be comforted. God essentially said, "Job! Look at me! Are you as great as I am? Can you do what I can do?"

When God was finished, Job repented of his self-righteousness and became satisfied in his God. Did you get that? Job was comforted when he gazed on the greatness of his God!

Think of the Letters to the Seven Churches in Revelation chapters two and three. Each of the churches was suffering some form of persecution. They each were facing certain dangers. But God opens each letter by describing Himself, and closes each by giving them a promise. 

What I am saying is this: we are so designed, so created, so wrought that we find our greatest comfort, satisfaction and delight in knowing truly our God. At the end of the day, your proper knowledge of theology is comforting and sustaining. The Catholic Church has a name for this: they call it the Beatific Vision. The Beatific Vision is said to be the eternal and direct perception of God enjoyed by those who are in Heaven, imparting supreme happiness or blessedness [wikipedia]. But we have the beatific vision now, in a sense, as we see our God through His Son and His Word. And it does indeed impart supreme happiness and blessedness--and comfort in the midst of suffering.

Is there a better reason to study theology?

Observations from the Bible on Fear, Part 3

2 Timothy 1:7-8 (NASB) For God has not given us a spirit of timidity, but of power and love and discipline. Therefore do not be ashamed of the testimony of our Lord, or of me His prisoner; but join with me in suffering for the gospel according to the power of God,

Fear doesn’t come from God. Rather, God offers in place of fear, power, love, and “a sound mind.” Why does Paul say “a sound mind” (KJV), or “self-discipline” (NIV), or “discipline” (NASB)? Paul uses these terms because fear militates against sound, disciplined thinking: fear expands itself irrationally when we give place to it.

This is an important point and one that recurs as you read the Bible’s passages on fear. Fear feeds itself, even to the point where we perversely begin to fear fear itself. But what God provides is a spirit of love (the most important key to conquering fear outright) and power (in His power we are not helpless but can chose to exercise faith in His goodness and sovereign control), and discipline. Discipline enables us to control the wild flights of fancy in our minds (2 Corinthians 10:5), so that we are not carried away with gusts of fear (as the spies were in Numbers 13-14). To yield to these imaginations is to give way to panic.

Paul has a real bell-ringer in 2 Timothy 1:8 in our battle against fear and panic. Notice that Paul did not advise Timothy to combat his fears by backing off his ministry. Paul didn’t give his young coworker a pass because Timothy was afraid. Rather, in verse 8 Paul says, “join with me in suffering for the gospel according to the power of God.” Paul did not protect Timothy from suffering; he invited Timothy to embrace suffering with him for the sake of the gospel.

We are not accustomed to think of fear in terms of moral responsibility. But there is a significant moral component to our fears when we allow them to interrupt the responsibilities and ministries to which God has called us.

God desires that we confront our fears by not allowing them to turn us aside from our obligations. Rather than giving in to fear and retreating, we are invited by God to step out onto the edge and labor together with Him. It is uncomfortable—to be sure—but “God hath not given us a spirit of fear, but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.”

You never know

Our hearts go out to broken-hearted families in Newtown, Connecticut. There are literally dozens of families who have lost loved ones, close relatives, and dear friends from this terrible tragedy. There are moms and dads, from whom have been robbed dear children.

The loss is staggering, and the aftermath will go on for a long, long time. Many will carry scars from this horrific event until the day they die. Some will not be able to cope.

The question "why?" will soon be explored in the national media. "Root causes" will be sought out. Undoubtedly a combination of reasons will found to explain why Adam Lanza, the alleged shooter, turned the elementary school into a shooting gallery. Maybe he was the victim of bullying. Perhaps he had a psychological disturbance. Some will blame the whole affair on the guns.

I'm quite sure there will be one root cause, the real root cause, that will not be explored in the media. Like the rest of us, Adam Lanza is a sinner. Like ours, his heart is deeply corrupted. Some people fight the evil within them. Some give in to it. Some feed and encourage it. But that deep-rooted, twisted hostility against God and His creatures exists in every human being.

As it is written: “There is no one righteous, not even one;
there is no one who understands, no one who seeks God.
All have turned away, they have together become worthless; 

there is no one who does good, not even one.”
“Their throats are open graves; their tongues practice deceit.”

“The poison of vipers is on their lips.”
“Their mouths are full of cursing and bitterness.”
“Their feet are swift to shed blood;
ruin and misery mark their ways,
and the way of peace they do not know.”
“There is no fear of God before their eyes.”

Romans 3:10-18 (NIV)

Every human will express his or her own corruption in different ways, but no person is exempt from it. Some will turn their destructiveness on themselves, some upon others, some both. There is an adversary who encourages the destruction. His name is Satan, and of him Jesus says, “The thief comes only to steal, and kill, and destroy; I came that they might have life, and might have it abundantly" (John 10:10).

Two thousand years ago, we turned our destructive rage upon Jesus, screaming, "Crucify Him! Crucify Him! Crucify Him!" And so we did. Not knowing that the Father had planned to redeem the world through the death of His Son, we poured out our hostility against God on His Son, and played right into God's plan of eternal redemption. But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was upon him, and by his wounds we are healed (Isaiah 53:5).

The perfect Man died on the cross in the place of the sinners who nailed Him there, and on the cross He destroyed the bondage of sin, and through the resurrection He destroyed the power of death.There is but one solution to sin, one cure that can defang it, declaw it, and make it a toothless thing, powerless to destroy anymore, and that is faith in the death, burial and resurrection of Christ for my sins, in my place. For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God— (Ephesians 2:8)

Christmas is the point in the calendar when the church celebrates the incarnation of Christ, when He took upon Himself the form of man and was born as a helpless babe in a stable in Bethlehem. That birth provides as much hope today as it did then. Christ appeared to conquer death and sin. Jesus is the comfort for those who have lost little ones. He is the one Who gives the hope of eternal life. The solution for sin is imprinted into the nail scars in His hands and feet, and the scars left by the crown of thorns. See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands . . . (Isaiah 49:16)

For the religious these are comforting but empty sentimentalities. For true Christians, these are life-changing truths, these are the words of eternal life. For the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God. (1 Corinthians 1:18)

I am quite confident that the media will not discover the root cause. They'll probably want to throw more government at it. But I hope that the grieving moms and dads will somehow hear the message through their tears, and find comfort and peace in knowing that the Father lost His Son too, to a murderous crowd. He knows their grief and carries their sorrows. And I hope they will learn that He has, through that horrific death two thousand years ago, secured for them the sure and certain hope of eternal life, through faith in Christ. Surely he took up our infirmities and carried our sorrows. . . (Isaiah 53:4)

You never know when sin will emerge and display its raging destruction through an event like the school shooting in Connecticut. So kiss your kids on the way out the door tomorrow morning, but know that they are in the hands of God. Don't live in fear, live in the faith of the One who loved you and gave Himself for you.

Shaken to the Roots

"Are you the Expected One, or do we look for someone else?"

This is the question, recorded in Luke 7:19, that an imprisoned, soon-to-die John the Baptist sends his disciples to ask of the prophet of Nazareth, Jesus. It's really remarkable, because John had said earlier, on a better, brighter day,

 “I have beheld the Spirit descending as a dove out of heaven, and He remained upon Him. And I did not recognize Him, but He who sent me to baptize in water said to me, ‘He upon whom you see the Spirit descending and remaining upon Him, this is the one who baptizes in the Holy Spirit.’ And I have seen, and have borne witness that this is the Son of God.” (John 1:32-34, NASB)

John had said, on that bright, sunny day in Bethany,

“Behold, the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world!" (John 1:29, NASB)

So what happened? Why is John asking questions in Luke 7:19 about something about which he had had such settled confidence much earlier?

Have you ever been shaken to the roots? Whether by sudden crisis, or a slow but relentless tide of trouble, have you ever been in the positioning of questioning everything, again?

I was backpacking, I've forgotten exactly when or where, when I came across this little scene. A giant of the forest, a great conifer, had toppled, leaving a great hole in the ground where it's root-ball had been. Something had shaken it to its roots, and it could not take the stress.



Have you ever been shaken to the roots? Has your faith ever been rocked?

Jesus did not answer John's question with a rebuke, nor did He answer it with a discourse on faith. Instead He asked, "What do you see? Go tell John what you have seen."

“Go and report to John what you have seen and heard: the blind receive sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, and the deaf hear, the dead are raised up, the poor have the gospel preached to them. And blessed is he who keeps from stumbling over Me.” (Luke 7:22-23, NASB)

Have you ever been shaken to the roots?

Doubting Christian, sometimes it's helpful to get off the merry-go-round, pull up a chair with a cup of coffee, and remember what you have seen. Recall how your life has been changed, recall how life used to be before Christ. Remember what you have seen Him do in the lives of others. Remember how He has been always faithful.

Have you ever been shaken to the roots? Take a closer look at that picture above. What do you see?