Christianity

In the News

~ Heather Davis ~ 4 Comments

Since hearing the news that Charlie Kirk was gunned down during a debate on a college campus, I’ve been thinking and praying. A lot. I accidentally saw the video of him getting shot, which is probably why it sickens me so much.

In the aftermath, I prayed for his widow and her children, and I also prayed for the shooter who perpetrated violence on his own soul. I’ve prayed for our nation, repenting for what we’ve become and asking for mercy we do not deserve.

You know what I’ve discovered since? There are videos circulating on antisocial media celebrating Charlie Kirk’s demise. People are celebrating.

I have to wonder if these are the self-same people who once staunchly declared what happened in Nazi Germany in the 1930s and 40s could never happen again, especially not in America. We’re far too advanced to be brainwashed and cowed like those twentieth century German folk. I mean, we would NEVER so despise another group of people that we’d rejoice when they are slaughtered, gloat as they are brutalized, and dance in the streets as they die, right?

Right?!?

I’m not troubled because I’m some great Charlie Kirk fan, nor am I under any delusion that he was perfect or spotless. What disturbs me to my core is this: Charlie Kirk was not a government official. He had no power over others; no executive, legislative, or judicial authority of any kind. He had ideas, courage, and a willingness to engage people who think differently. He was just like one of us – only maybe a trifle bolder.

For this – for his ideas – he was shot. And people celebrate and gloat, never once thinking through the danger of their ideology. Allow me to spell it out: if Kirk “had it coming” by his opponents because his ideas differed from theirs, then by this logic, those who are celebrating “have it coming” because their ideas differ from Kirk’s supporters and fan base.

Oh people! Do you not see the utter foolishness, the stupidity, the reckless peril of this ideology? This is the very spirit of Nazi Germany. It is the spirit of the evil one who rejoices in all manner of evil and death, and it is, evidently, the spirit of our age.

But it is not the spirit of the Living God. He is the God of Life; the one who gave His Son to conquer death so all who repent of their rebellion, truly love Him, and entrust themselves to His Lordship may live forever in His awesome presence.

He is the God who says:

“…As I live, declares the Lord GOD, I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked, but that the wicked turn from his way and live; turn back, turn back from your evil ways, for why will you die, O house of Israel?” (Ezekiel 33:11).

And:

“I call heaven and earth to witness against you today, that I have set before you life and death, blessing and curse. Therefore choose life, that you and your offspring may live, loving the LORD your God, obeying his voice and holding fast to him, for he is your life and length of days…” (Deuteronomy 30:19-20).

He is the God who made a way through death so all who return His love may live eternally.

Jesus said, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” Jesus has made a way out of sin, death, and shame.

Oh my people, please take it! Please don’t throw in your lot with death and evil and all that is perishing. That way leads only to destruction and unthinkable horror. Don’t delight in wickedness and so set yourself up to be enslaved by it.

Do you hear that? The bzz-bzz-bzz of an alarm clock?

It’s time to wake up.

“Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.” – George Santayana

“‘Awake, O sleeper, and arise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you.’  Look carefully then how you walk, not as unwise but as wise, making the best use of the time, because the days are evil.” – the Apostle Paul

“Therefore, stay awake, for you do not know on what day your Lord is coming.” – Jesus of Nazareth

Why Do We Still Suffer?

~ Heather Davis ~ 2 Comments

Wednesday night at my church, our pastor asked an interesting question regarding 1 Peter 1:5. The passage reads, “…who, by God’s power, are being guarded through faith for a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time.” Pastor John asked us how we would respond to someone asking why Christians still suffer if our God is guarding us through faith.

In other words, if God is so powerful and loving and if He truly guards His own, why do His people still deal with sickness, loss, grief, financial ruin, and the like?

My first thought was of Paul’s words in 2 Corinthians 5:1-2: “For we know that if the tent that is our earthly home is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. For in this tent we groan, longing to put on our heavenly dwelling…”

I think of it as the tabernacle/temple/eternity paradigm.

Incredibly, God gave us an illustration of worship in temporary accommodations while in exile when He gave the budding nation of Israel the tabernacle (a specific type of tent) in which to worship Him during their journey between Egypt, the place of their captivity, and the Promised Land. You can read about it in the book of Exodus.

Once they were in the Promised Land and a kingdom was finally established, God gave the third king of Israel permission to build a more permanent worship site – the temple (see 1 Kings 6). However, because even the temple was built from corruptible materials in this sin-corrupted world, and because the people of the young nation were also sin-sick and twisted, the nation divided and eventually the first temple fell.

Yet even the temple is just a glimpse of our ultimate eternal worship place in the very presence of God. In the future city of the New Jerusalem, there will not even be a temple, “for its temple is the Lord God the Almighty and the Lamb” (Revelation 21:22). This will be our permanent home; this will be our permanent place of worship!

So what does this have to do with tents and suffering?

This body – this life – is all temporary. What’s more, it belongs to a reality in which everything has a contrasting opposite: up and down, good and evil, fast and slow, light and dark, and so forth. But when we are “born again,” as Peter mentions in 1 Peter 1:3 (see also John 3, et al), we die to this duality and are made into a new creation – one prepared to someday live in a reality without sin, darkness, death, and decay.

Yet until then, the new creatures we are still reside in these temporary, frail containers of meat and water. In this way, our physical bodies are like tents. And for those of us who are in Christ, our current bodies are temporary residences meant to be maintained long enough to function during our sojourn on earth, but they are not our permanent homes.

We are in essence camping in a foreign and often hostile territory on an ambassadorial mission for our King. We are sent here to represent Him to the world at large as well as to convince others the value of relinquishing their earthly citizenship and joining us in exile for the promise of a homecoming like no other.

Because we are not home, we will suffer the same homesickness, feelings of isolation, and sense of being misunderstood as any other stranger in a strange land. Also, because we are still housed in bodies inextricably tied to a planet broken by evil and sin, we will suffer just as all inhabitants of this world do. Sickness, death, and pain do not pass us by just because we are citizens of a different and eternal realm. We still live here, after all.

In addition to these general sufferings, there is the added complexity that we will suffer because of our choice to align ourselves with the King of kings, especially as we navigate in a world largely hostile to His message and dead-set (pun intended) on each individual being his or her own little god and calling the shots.

Suffering is part and parcel of the tent-dweller, and yet it is not all bad. Suffering strips us of self-reliance, of hubris, of many ignoble traits and daily reminds us we are not yet home. It also daily reminds us to rely on our God who is powerful and able to sustain us, even through suffering, until the day He calls us home.

Home.

It’s because of the promise of home we endure suffering. This homecoming will be unlike any earthly homecoming, because all of earth is still under the domination of sin. When our “tents” are destroyed and we clothe ourselves with our heavenly dwelling, all the bad things of the world will be destroyed along with them.

The new reality we were born into will finally be realized in its completeness. No more sorrow, no more shame, no more sin or death or pain or tears. All will be made new – even the heavens and the earth – and we will see the beauty of our King unveiled and in His splendor.

And THAT, my friends, is worth every ounce of suffering and more!

Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more. And I saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.” And he who was seated on the throne said, “Behold, I am making all things new.” Also he said, “Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true” (Revelation 21:1-5).

Where Else

~ Heather Davis ~ 6 Comments

When a person’s best efforts to serve God faithfully fall short; when life feels lonely and purposeless, your back is raw from cross-carrying, and the ministries you poured your heart and soul and everything into crash and burn, it’s tempting to wonder if the Lord really does care. Do our efforts really matter? Is all the sacrifice really worth it? At such times, only one thing stops me from quitting: I know Jesus has the words of eternal life. Where else can I go?

After this many of his disciples turned back and no longer walked with him.  So Jesus said to the twelve, “Do you want to go away as well?”  Simon Peter answered him, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life,  and we have believed, and have come to know, that you are the Holy One of God” (John 6:66-69 ESV).

Even if I don’t always like the truth, it remains true.

But in all honesty, every season of trial and every dark valley I’ve walked through in life was followed by a new dawn. There are moments of rest, refreshing, and joy. Even so, the times of failure and heartache often cast long shadows.

The truth is, my call was never to make something of myself, nor indeed to make something of my children (although I desperately wanted to make them dedicated heart, mind, and soul to Christ). My call was never to comfort, convenience, or even what the world calls success. My call was – and is – to die to myself; to take up my cross daily and follow Jesus. No matter what the outcome.

Cold comfort, maybe, but comfort nonetheless because it is true.

But then, there’s the beautiful part of Truth – it IS true. Even when my hopes, dreams, and efforts have collapsed into ash and ruin, there is always a light breaking into the darkness of the tomb; a breath of hope amidst the stench of death: none of this is forever.

No pain, no failure, no sorrow or suffering will last forever. Even if the last lap of my life yields only more failure, so long as I have Christ, it is enough.

There will come a day when living no longer means pain, fruitless toil and wasted time, lonesome weariness and grief. The tiny speck of my earthly labors will be swallowed up by Life – eternity in the presence of the Glorious One.

Where else would I go? Nowhere.

Even when the way is hard and dark and full of sorrow, there is nowhere else I would rather be nor path I would rather take, because no other road leads Home.

40 Day Feast

~ Heather Davis ~ 4 Comments

I tried something new over Lent this year. Rather than fast from food, I fasted from social media, which is not novel in itself. The new part was adding in a Lenten feast. For forty days, I replaced any entertainment (fiction books, movies, shows, etc.) with reading God’s Word. All of it. I had a 40 day feast on the Word of Life.

The number 40 appears in several places throughout the Scriptures, often expressed as a period of 40 days and nights or 40 years. This is by no means an exhaustive list, but the following examples will demonstrate my point:

  • In Genesis 7, rain fell for 40 days and nights
  • The Israelites and Moses spent 40 years in the wilderness
  • Moses spent 40 years in Pharaoh’s household
  • Moses also spent 40 days and nights fasting on Mount Sinai and receiving the Torah. Twice.
  • Joshua, Caleb, and the spies explored Canaan for 40 days
  • Several of the judges were in charge for 40 years
  • Elijah walked 40 days and nights to the Mountain of God
  • Ezekiel bore Judah’s sin for 40 days
  • God gave Ninevah 40 days to repent
  • Jesus spent 40 days in the wilderness fasting and being tempted by the accuser
  • After His resurrection, Jesus appeared to people over a 40 day period

Early in my walk with God, the idea of reading the Bible in 40 days morphed into a life goal. Early attempts when my kids were young fell prey to the reality of not even having “entertainment time” to sacrifice – the kids were my entertainment for many years. Then when they got a little older, chronic illness derailed me for a season.

Not to mention, I first tackled the task without any semblance of a plan or daily goals.

This year was different. Although I’m in school, my schedule is flexible. My kids are grown and either in college or beginning careers. My illness is under control and symptoms have stabilized. I actually have time to read for pleasure, so I just shifted that time to reading my Bible. I also prayed for a full week that the Lord would help me to not only do it, but pay attention as I read.

By His grace, I got through the entire Bible in 40 days, beginning on Ash Wednesday and ending on Sunday, April 13.

The experience profoundly impacted my thinking on Bible reading. I realized how many connections I’ve overlooked because I read a chapter or two at a time rather than whole books. And I know of the few I noticed, there are several I missed.

Some of these threads, I documented on a slip of paper tucked between the pages for future reference. It’s a list I look forward to adding to and exploring.

I may or may not read through the Bible in 40 days again,  but I will absolutely carve out time to read larger sections – a quarter to half a book for the longer works; a complete epistle in one sitting (as they were meant to be read), ideally at least once a week in addition to my normal reading.

In between, I’m excited to pull those threads and follow them where they lead.

Now more than ever, I relish the astonishing fact that the Creator of all that is left this intricate, compelling, and beautiful Book so I can get to know Him here. The more time I spend in its pages, the more the Spirit helps me in “increasing in the knowledge of God” (Col. 1:10).

Not only that, but also through His Living Word, God gradually restores in me the original design, transforming me from a wreckage of sin and sorrow, conforming me more and more to the image of His Son, and preparing me to spend all of eternity with Him.

As Dietrich Bonhoeffer put it in his work, Life Together, “The Holy Scriptures do not consist of individual sayings, but are a whole and can be used most effectively as such. The Scriptures are God’s revealed word as a whole. The full witness to Jesus Christ the Lord can be clearly heard only in its immeasurable inner relationships, in the connection of Old and New Testaments, of promise and fulfillment, sacrifice and law, Law and Gospel, cross and Resurrection, faith and obedience, having and hoping.”

Amen.

For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven
    and do not return there but water the earth,
making it bring forth and sprout,
    giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater,
so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth;
    it shall not return to me empty,
but it shall accomplish that which I purpose,
    and shall succeed in the thing for which I sent it.

Isaiah 55:10-11, ESV

Talk about Transformation: Jacob

~ Heather Davis ~ Leave a comment
This one is for the sisters who are going through Warren W. Wiersbe’s devotional, Becoming New together.

Day 15 of Wiersbe’s book touches on the life of Jacob, but I would encourage each one of you to read the patriarch’s entire story from his birth recorded in Genesis 25 at least through the death of his father Isaac at the end of Genesis 35. You can read it all in less than half an hour, and in this season of focusing on transformation, there’s a lot to be learned about the power of our gracious God from the life of this hesitant father of our faith.

Living up to His Name

At birth, Jacob was holding his brother’s heel and so was named Jacob1, (Hebrew: יַעֲקֹב ; transliterated Ya’akov). It wasn’t a particularly flattering name to give to a baby. Most Bibles have a note stating the name means “supplanter,” which seems a little odd. However, a brief word study reveals why. The word picture here is of a person seizing another by the heel, literally tripping them up in order to restrain, deceive, outwit, or by other nefarious means take their place.

And indeed, the young man lived up to his name. He tripped up his elder brother Esau twice while they were young men. First, he took advantage of Esau’s exhaustion (and an apparently cavalier attitude toward the traditional birthrights given to the firstborn son) by withholding a bowl of stew until Esau promised to sell his birthright to his younger twin for food2.

But Jacob didn’t stop there. At his mother’s urging, he also stole his brother’s blessing from their father by listening to the voice of his mother (not the first time a man fell by obeying the voice of a woman – there’s a lesson in this for us, ladies). This time, Jacob lied to his father, posing as Esau and taking great measures to deceive the blind old man for the sake of taking Esau’s place of prominence in their father’s pronouncement of blessing3.

Skeptics R Us

As if his conniving and scheming to take his brother’s place wasn’t enough, the young Jacob also shows signs of being a skeptic. Rather than associating himself with the Almighty, for years he refers to God as “the Lord your God4” (when talking with his father) or “the God of my father.5”

Sadly, his skepticism isn’t based on anything but hubris. Jacob continued to avoid associating Himself too closely with God even after the Lord sent him a dream proclaiming Himself to He Who Supplants, even reiterating the covenant He made with Abraham and Isaac to the rascally Jacob6.

And did our antihero man up and submit to the Almighty who was promising him such astonishing mercy despite his life of lies? No! Instead, he set up the rock he’d used as a pillow (ouch) and made a provisional promise to the Most High God. “If God will do thus and so for me, then I will deign to call Him my God.7”

It’s all quite humorous until we look deeply at our own motives, isn’t it? When have we also laid conditions on our Creator, pledging our fidelity to Him in exchange for prosperity or something else we desire? As if we have anything to offer the One who holds all things together; as if He needed us at all! But I digress… back to Jacob.

Reaping What Was Sown

Jacob travels on and falls head-over-heels for the lovely Rachel, hiring himself out to her father Laban for seven years in exchange for her hand in marriage8. But the crafty Laban has other plans – in the dark of the wedding night, he veils his older and plainer daughter Leah and sends her into the marriage tent in place of her sister9. Because wine flowed freely at wedding banquets and the only light sources were the stars and fires, it isn’t until morning that Jacob realized he’d been deceived. Oh, what goes around comes around! And it keeps coming.

Jacob promises Laban another seven years of service in exchange for his beloved Rachel. Thus, his household is established on a sisterly rivalry that could not have been pleasant10.

Let me take an aside to point out a fact: many non-believers will use this example (and others) to say “biblical marriage” includes sister-wives and their maidservants; in short, polygamy. However, if one actually reads the words of the text, what we see is that God used the sin of Jacob for His greater plan while simultaneously meting out the consequences of Jacob’s sin. The rivalry and bitterness of Jacob’s wives did yield a household of peace and joy. God did not bless these choices, but He did redeem them. That’s what He does. Speaking of redemption, let’s go back to Jacob.

Even in this mess of being used and tricked by Laban, God speaks to Jacob and offers him guidance11 – even though we have yet to see Jacob call God anything other than the God of his ancestors or build a single altar to worship the Lord (I don’t think a single stone and a conditional pledge counts as worship). And Laban continues to trick Jacob by attempting to circumvent his request for the speckled and spotted flocks12.

But God’s plan cannot be circumvented. His purposes are bigger than Jacob and his bickering wives, bigger than the supplanter and his supplanter, and bigger even than all of their sin. God’s plan stretches through this debacle to establish the Nation of Isreal through whom the Messiah would one day come… but that is much later.

Becoming Broken

Jacob spent twenty years reaping the discord he sowed in his childhood home, and finally he was able to break free from Laban. On his journey to return to his homeland, the bald truth of what he did to Esau finally hits him. Fear of reprisal from the brother he tripped up and replaced seizes him, and the man finally shows a little humility.13

And Jacob said, “O God of my father Abraham and God of my father Isaac, O Lord who said to me, ‘Return to your country and to your kindred, that I may do you good,’ I am not worthy of the least of all the deeds of steadfast love and all the faithfulness that you have shown to your servant, for with only my staff I crossed this Jordan, and now I have become two camps. Please deliver me from the hand of my brother, from the hand of Esau, for I fear him, that he may come and attack me, the mothers with the children (Genesis 32:9-11).

For the first time, we see Jacob in a posture of understanding that the blessings he schemed for are not blessings he deserves. His heart his humbled, even if it is humbled out of mere self-preservation.

And that night, he wrestles with God. It isn’t until after the wrestling match, which resulted in a permanent physical disability, that Jacob finally builds a proper alter and worships the Living God14. It took time, consequences, suffering, and fear, but Jacob finally worships the God who graciously allows him to become a part of the lineage of His Messiah, through whom God would offer redemption to the whole world.

There’s much more to Jacob’s story than this overview. His wife Rachel stole her father’s household gods, and Jacob doesn’t rid his own household of this abomination until after the rape of his daughter Dinah and his sons’ over-the-top revenge.

My point? Jacob was not a perfect man by any stretch of the imagination. Yet he was a man transformed by God. What we see in Jacob is a solid reminder of the astonishing mercy and renewing power of our Living and Loving God. He uses our own bad choices to humble us, and yet there is no one out of reach of His redeeming grace.  

  1. Genesis 25:26 ↩︎
  2. Genesis 25:29-34 ↩︎
  3. Genesis 27 ↩︎
  4. Genesis 27:20 ↩︎
  5. Genesis 31:5, et al ↩︎
  6. Genesis 28:10-15 ↩︎
  7. Genesis 28:20-21 ↩︎
  8. Genesis 29:16-19 ↩︎
  9. Genesis 29:22-25 ↩︎
  10. Genesis 29-30 ↩︎
  11. Genesis 31:10-13 ↩︎
  12. Genesis 30:34-36 ↩︎
  13. Genesis 32:6-12 ↩︎
  14. Genesis 33:20 ↩︎

Choice and Consequence: A True Story

~ Heather Davis ~ 7 Comments

It happened in the spring of 2000; the moment that changed the trajectory of my life. I was in my mid-20s; an aimless young woman with no real plans. At the time, I was an avowed atheist and had bought into the pervasive lies hookup culture sold my generation at bargain prices, choosing to treat sex as a mundane social transaction. And now I was faced with the consequences: two dark pink lines proclaiming a positive pregnancy test, and the man I’d known for about a month waiting in the living room for the results.

Those lies were not such a bargain after all, it would seem.

I was terrified. This was NOT a good time for me to have a baby. I barely knew the father; had no idea if he would run the other way, if he would stay but turn out to be yet another abusive man, or how he would react.

Moreover, I was a waitress – a gig initially intended as gap year so I could decide what I wanted to do with my life. But the life decision had been postponed again and again until nearly a decade had passed. A decade I’d squandered either working as many hours as my bosses would allow or self-medicating my wounded heart with alcohol.

The job let me pay my bills, but there wasn’t a lot extra. Besides, waiting tables wasn’t exactly a family-friendly job, and having a baby would end the vague idea I had of going back to school and finishing my degree. To make matters worse, I didn’t think I was very maternal. I was deeply selfish, carried profound emotional scars, and often drank myself to sleep mainly because it seemed better than crying myself to sleep. I was a mess, not mother material.

I knew abortion was an option, but it was not an option for me.

That’s right. Even then – at a time when I rejected God, when my entire life revolved around my silly little self, and I had every reason in the world to choose it- abortion was not an option. Not even considered.

The reason was that I knew I could never live with myself after killing my child; knew I would spend the rest of my life wondering what he or she would have looked like. Knew I would see a kid at a grocery store and think, My kid would be about this age now, until it drove me deeper into the darkness that already consumed most of my heart.

So I kept the baby, and it was the best decision I ever made.

I was in love with my son the first time I felt him move, and he brought light and joy and fullness into the drab misery of my life. My aimless life now had purpose and meaning. I was someone – I was Mommy. I loved it more than I ever thought possible. And through the sudden responsibility of caring for a helpless tiny person, my hard heart was finally open to the God who created me. My life was saved in more than one way.

Why am I telling this story? Because I believe there is someone out there who needs to hear it. There are far too many women who have bought the lie that abortion is healthcare. It is not.

Merriam-webster.com defines healthcare as “efforts made to maintain, restore, or promote someone’s physical, mental, or emotional well-being especially when performed by trained and licensed professionals.”

By this definition, prenatal care is healthcare. So is caring for the needs of the growing fetus, childbirth, post-natal care, neonatal care, and caring for a woman who has suffered a miscarriage.

But killing a living being, no matter how small, is not healthcare. Nor is abortion a decision without consequences.

Before I go on, let me say a word to any woman reading this who has already made the fatal choice and is now coping with the emotional fallout you probably didn’t expect. There is hope for you, sweet one. There is a God who loves you and who forgives; a God who sent His Son to die and pay the penalty for our sin so we can be free to choose to reject sin and follow His way instead. Come to Jesus and find rest for your soul. He may not take away the crushing pain, He will not remove the consequences of poor choices, but He will redeem them nonetheless. He is good, and if you turn away from sin and self and turn to Him, He will soothe the ache in your heart and make you whole again. Stop reading my words and start reading God’s Word with a prayer for help in your heart. He will answer, if not in the way you may expect.

For those who are on the fence, please read on. There is a life at stake here.

Whether you believe it or not, there is a grave spiritual damage done when a child is destroyed by the one person who ought to love him most. The spiritual damage is unavoidable, and there is only one cure – surrender to Jesus Christ as Lord.

Then there’s the oft-suppressed fact that abortions actually can damage a woman’s physical health, even if it isn’t common. But what is common is the damage to her emotional health.

A woman may build up callouses on her conscience in order to cope with her selfish choice, true. But I’ve been pregnant and felt the stirring maternal emotions even in the weeks before I felt the baby move. The mother instinct is powerful. I still carry mom-guilt for careless words I said to my toddlers. I cannot imagine the guilt I would carry had I decided to kill one of them before they were born.

I desperately want to save women from swallowing this barbed lie and suffering the invisible, eternal scars it leaves. I literally shed tears when I think of it – not only for the babies who will never get to laugh, but for the mothers who will never get to hear that most wonderful of sounds.

I weep for the women who have been damaged by the moneymaking industry of abortion clinics.

So my sweet sisters, please, don’t buy the lie of, “My body, my choice.” The day I stared down at the two pink lines, I knew I’d already made my choice. The child growing inside me came about because of my choices and deserved the chance to make his own.

Even as an atheist, I knew this much. This is what the last twenty-four years of propaganda has chipped away at – the common sense understanding that a baby is a human being even at the very earliest stages.

Besides, it isn’t your body you are aborting – it is a body belonging to someone else. A fetus is genetically distinct from its mother because it is a unique human being. It is not a bit of amorphous protoplasm that might become a catfish or a cow; it is a growing and developing person in a very early stage.

That tiny, growing person deserves a chance to make his or her own choices, both good and bad. And ladies? You deserve the chance to watch them choose; to watch them learn and grow, succeed and fail, laugh and cry and live.

Behold, children are a heritage from the LORD, the fruit of the womb a reward (Psalm 127:3).

If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness (1 John 1:9).

Choosing Life

~ Heather Davis ~ Leave a comment

Moses was nearing the end of his substantial ministry, preparing to hand leadership off to Joshua, and getting the descendants of Israel ready to take possession of the land promised to Abraham many generations before. In light of his, Moses had just finished reiterating the entire covenant between God and His chosen people so they would go in with a clear understanding of what it looked like to keep their end of the promise. In short, Moses offered them a choice between life and death.

I call heaven and earth to witness against you today, that I have set before you life and death, blessing and curse. Therefore choose life, that you and your offspring may live, loving the LORD your God, obeying his voice and holding fast to him, for he is your life and length of days…
(Deuteronomy 30:19-20)

Note: I highly recommend reading all of Deuteronomy 30, but this is the gist.

Today, of course, believers are under a new covenant promise; a covenant bought and sealed by the priceless blood of the Divine Lamb of God who lived out that perfect obedience to God’s covenant law, laid down His life to pay the penalty for our rebellion, and took His life up again so all who put their trust in the sufficiency of His sacrifice may be set free from slavery to sin.

Because of Jesus and His sacrifice, we are given an opportunity at a new life, being remade in Him. Further, His gift of the Holy Spirit makes it possible for us to choose life. Yet obedience is still necessary for us. Indeed, Jesus equates our love for Him with our obedience to His commands many times in John 14.

Whoever has my commandments and keeps them, he it is who loves me. And he who loves me will be loved by my Father, and I will love him and manifest myself to him.”
(John 14:21)

And while it is popular in some circles to say we are “free from the law,” it is more accurate to say we are free from certain specific constraints of the first covenant meant for Israel before the first advent of her Messiah. We are not free to do as we wish; certainly if we belong to Jesus, we are not free to sin but free to escape from sin.

We are still liable to a moral law, one which Jesus actually accentuates rather than diminishes. For example, Jesus not only says we should not commit adultery, but that we should not even look lustfully at another person. He doesn’t just say, “Don’t murder,” but instructs us not to be angry with our brother – in fact, to love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us. He calls us not to mere obedience but perfection (see Matthew 5:21-48).

This is what I want to hone in on. When it comes to a modern understanding of sin and obedience, I think we get a little confused. We look at a specific sin and think, “Well, at least it’s a small sin. It’s not something really bad, like murder.”

Or we hold our sin up against cultural norms and think it used to be sin but maybe it isn’t anymore. Perhaps God changed His mind, or maybe humans have progressed in our understanding of sin, or maybe it’s simply outdated to think of certain actions as sinful.

We think we’re comparing good and bad or better and best. But in reality, we are still comparing life and death.

Even though Moses was talking to an ancient people about a specific covenant between their nation and a holy God, the principle of what he says still remains. Brothers and sisters, when we weigh obedience to Christ’s holiness against conformity to our culture, we are still choosing between life and death, blessing and curse.

For the love of the One who gave all so we might have His righteousness, and also because I love and care about your eternal well being, my friends, I implore you: choose life.

Jesus Didn’t Come for the Righteous

~ Heather Davis ~ Leave a comment

. . .He said, “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. Go and learn what this means, ‘I desire mercy, and not sacrifice.’ For I came not to call the righteous, but sinners.”
(Matthew 9:11-13)

The above statements by Yeshua (Jesus) were made shortly after He called a man named Matthew to follow Him. Because Matthew was both Jewish and a tax collector employed by Rome, he would have been vilified as a contemptable sell-out by his fellow Israelites.1 Without a doubt, Matthew was as shocked at the Master’s call as the other disciples, who were probably wondering, Why is the Lord asking a traitor to join us?

Whatever their response, we know at some point after Matthew left his tax booth to follow the Messiah, Yeshua was found dining with other tax collectors and socially unacceptable sinners. The Pharisees did not care for His choice of companions and voiced their disdain. It was at this point my Lord offered His subtle rebuke in the form of a reference to Hosea 6:6: “I came not to call the righteous, but sinners.”

In the rabbinical style of His time, the Lord intended to point them not only to the specific verse, but the entire passage (probably Hosea 6:4-10). It is worthy of note here to point out the English translation is not exact, but bear in mind Matthew’s Gospel account was written in Greek; Hosea penned in Hebrew; and the conversation probably happened in either Hebrew or Aramaic – just in case you were wondering why it doesn’t appear to be a direct quote.

What shall I do with you, O Ephraim? What shall I do with you, O Judah? Your love is like a morning cloud, like the dew that goes early away. . . For I desire steadfast love and not sacrifice, the knowledge of God rather than burnt offerings. But like Adam they transgressed the covenant; there they dealt faithlessly with me.
(Hosea 6:4, 6-7)

Do you see it? Yeshua is not only making clear His mission – to call sin-sick sinners to spiritual health – but He is reminding these wayward leaders of their own faithlessness. The quoted statement forces the hearer to decide which category he falls into. Am I righteous? Or a sinner?

Anyone as conversant with the Text as the Pharisees were, would know that Psalm 14:2-3 declares there is “none who does good, not even one,” and many of the proverbs discuss God’s abhorrence of human pride (see Proverbs 8:13, 16:5, et al).

Not to mention that to declare oneself righteous is as bold an act of hubris as can be imagined.

Matthew doesn’t record the Pharisees’ response to this challenge, but I doubt it was positive. In several other places, Matthew points out how this sect accused the Lord of casting out demons through demonic means, sought to destroy Him, and eventually conspired to have Him killed.2 Thus, it’s no leap of logic to assume they weren’t thrilled at His rebuke. After all, they were prominent religious leaders! How dare this young upstart presume to reproach them?

Hm. Indeed.

The thing is, it’s easy for us to fall into the habit of thinking, Oh, those awful Pharisees, roll our eyes, and quite miss the point.

Yeshua’s question is for us, too. Am I righteous? Or a sinner?

Do we, in living-color-lived-out truth, comprehend the gravity of our sin and our desperate need for the Messiah’s imputed righteousness? Or do our lives reflect smug complacency in our own decency?

When we read these accounts in our Bibles, it’s an easy thing to read as a bystander, observing without participating in the unfolding narrative. Yet the entire purpose of God’s Word is to teach us about Him and draw us to Him by showing us the path carved through the very flesh of His only Son.

If there were any other way to breach the chasm between our sinful selves and the holiness of the Most High God, Yeshua’s prayers in Gethsemane would have concluded without His betrayal by one of His close companions and the road to Golgotha.

We can never be righteous enough to counterbalance our sin. There are no Divine scales of justice where each bad deed weighs down one side while every good deed is placed on the opposite. There is only the living death of sin and the eternal life offered through the Messiah.

To be blunt, we all fall into one of two categories:

  1. Those who do not belong to Yeshua, who are walking dead just waiting for the animation of our bodies to cease, or
  2. Those who do belong to Him and have already begun the eternal journey that will continue once these temporary bodies wear out and are traded in for our eternal ones.

So when you read His words to the Pharisees, it’s worth a heart check. Have you been trusting in your good works, or have your good works been the grateful overflow of a life rescued from death through surrender to the Lord Jesus Christ, Yeshua Messiah? Are you a recalcitrant miscreant relying on self-sufficiency? Or have you repented – made a 180o turn – leaving desire for sin at your back and making steps closer to the glorious Savior?

In fact, are you one of the sinners He came to call?

I know I am, and I’m blessed to call Him both Master and Lord. I pray you will come to Him, too, and we can glorify Him both now and for time out of mind.

  1. See “Why Exactly Were Tax Collectors So Hated?” and “Monetary System, Taxation, and Publicans in the Time of Christ,” et al. ↩︎
  2. See Matthew 9:32-32; 12:14; 12:22-24; 22:15; et all ↩︎

Homeschool Advice: Part 6 | Failure

~ Heather Davis ~ 2 Comments

In the early years of homeschooling, I began to re-evaluate the role of failure in life. I’d spent a good portion of my adult years berating myself for stupid mistakes, wasted time, and the like – to the ironic point of wasting more time stupidly dwelling on past mistakes. It changed when I noticed my ungodly habit rubbing off my kids and recognized the absolute desolation of refusing to learn from past mistakes.

For godly grief produces a repentance that leads to salvation without regret, whereas worldly grief produces death.
(2 Corinthians 7:10)

Instead, I began to tell my children what I had learned from mistakes. When they failed at something, I would repeat a phrase they likely grew sick of hearing over the years: never waste a good mistake.

I meant it. The usefulness of failure became clear to me during an afternoon chat with a neighbor on her front porch. She mentioned failing statistics several times in high school and talked about how much she hated standard deviations and probabilities. When she caught my blank stare, she asked, “Don’t you remember?”

I did not.

Ironically, I’d aced the class. Yet as the conversation progressed, it became clear she remembered far more statistics than I did despite her failures and my apparent success.

As I took this new thought to the Lord, He showed me where my personal areas of failure were now lessons more deeply etched than those areas I’d skimmed over by succeeding.

Because of this realization, I determined to not only allow my children to fail but to show them how to best learn from it. I didn’t withhold the large red X on incorrect problems, and I resisted the trend in my circles to give them straight As at the end of each grading period.

Instead, I graded appropriately. Good grades were earned, not granted. Whenever work was done incorrectly, I would bring the graded paper back to my little pupil and have them rework the problem. Together, we would think through what went wrong.

However, I did not change the grade. Instead, I provided a chance to learn from mistakes so the next grade would be better.

I wanted to challenge them, and I wanted them to fail so they would see failure is not an end. It is not a thing to be feared. Instead, failure is merely another step in the journey. In truth, failure can even be a more memorable step than instant success. Whatever we wrestle through, we tend to recall more vividly.

I’m convinced this is part of why God allows us to fail. By failing, we see our own fragility; our weakness and need for Him. Also by failing, we learn not to be afraid to try because we discover failure is not so bad, after all.

In fact, through failure, we learn humility and to better trust the God who never fails. 

"Remember this and stand firm, recall it to mind, you transgressors, 
remember the former things of old; 
for I am God, and there is no other; 
I am God, and there is none like me, 
declaring the end from the beginning and from ancient times things not yet done,
 saying, 'My counsel shall stand, and I will accomplish all my purpose,'
(Isaiah 46:8-10)

A Theology Built on Suffering

~ Heather Davis ~ Leave a comment

My walk with the Living God is not your typical Southern I-was-raised-in-church story. Although I did attend church with my family as a child, I didn’t “get it.” Nothing in my childhood Sunday school classes penetrated to the core of my will and reason, and so I was unprepared for the inevitable hardships of life in a sin-wrecked world. I had no theology for suffering.

As a teen and young adult, I adopted a worldview based on atheistic humanism. The problem was, this worldview necessitated I remain busy and preoccupied at all times. Otherwise, the reality of pain, despair, and emptiness would press me in a suffocating embrace. From my godless perspective, suffering was meaningless, and since life held a great deal of suffering, life seemed meaningless to me as well.

Then I met my Creator through His Word, and everything changed. But the verses that first resonated with me were not the standard reassurances of God’s love – the fear nots and the comforting promises of faithful love. To the contrary, the very first Scripture I remember striking a deep chord and reverberating through my brain was from the prophet Isaiah. It was a Scripture about pain.

Behold, I have refined you, but not as silver; I have tried you in the furnace of affliction. For my own sake, for my own sake, I do it, for how should my name be profaned? My glory I will not give to another.
(Isaiah 48:10-11)

For the first time in my life, I learned the anguish and angst I’d experienced in life had a purpose. There was meaning in misery; a reason for the suffering.

The craziest idea I’d ever had took hold of me. My pain wasn’t even ultimately about me at all. It was all allowed to occur for God’s glory. And He wasn’t going to share His glory with anyone – not even with me.

In those two verses, read in the context of the entire chapter but impressed into my heart by the Holy Spirit as a personal message, I realized all my life to that point had been a refining process.

The torturous heat I’d felt, sometimes due to my own poor choices and other times inflicted upon me by circumstance, wasn’t merely rotten luck. Instead, the intense heat of anguish melted down every atom of my being in order that the ugliness inside me could be separated and removed.

Even my stupidity, my “looking for love in all the wrong places” and the horrors I’d found in dark corners I never should have probed, was included in the liquefaction. The Great Refiner applied heat to every part of me, discarding what was useless to Him and reshaping the rest into a vessel He could use – for His glory.

My pain was for His glory, and yielded to Him, it became a thing of beauty; a connection point by which I could share my eternal hope in a merciful and magnificent Creator God with others who are wounded and broken by suffering. Life and life’s pain were no longer meaningless.

From these two verses, the Holy Spirit continued to reveal a theology of suffering to me through the Word of God. I was unsurprised to read Paul’s assertion that we should rejoice in our suffering or James’s admonition to “count it all joy… when you meet trials of various kinds” (see Romans 5:2-5 and James 1:2-4).

Nor was I surprised to learn that my salvation was purchased by the suffering of the Son of God, or that my obedience to Him required further suffering. I was simply ecstatic to learn all the pain had a purpose after all.