life

Godly Sorrow

~ Heather Davis ~ 6 Comments

Ever since Charlie Kirk’s assassination, rumors of possible revival are simmering in various places. I admit I am cautiously excited. However, this excitement is tempered by an understanding of the abject depravity of my fellow humans, self included. We are beings easily led by our emotions, but when those feelings fade, often so does our loyalty, inspiration, and yes, even our faith. What we need is not impassioned sentiment but genuine godly sorrow.

“As it is, I rejoice, not because you were grieved, but because you were grieved into repenting. For you felt a godly grief, so that you suffered no loss through us” (2 Corinthians 7:9).

Sorrow and grief over our wicked propensities is not where God wants to leave us, but it is the beginning of the transformation we must undertake to be truly useful to him. And here it is where the Great Shepherd ends up sorting the sheep from the goats, because not all people who hear the good news of the Kingdom of God will experience true godly grief.

There is another kind of sorrow, a subtle but dangerous mimic: worldly grief.

“For godly grief produces a repentance that leads to salvation without regret, whereas worldly grief produces death” (2 Corinthians 7:9-10).

As we take a hard look into the darkness of our own hearts, do we truly see the perversion there? Do we grasp the vast gulf between our degenerate state and the perfection of a holy God? If we do, godly grief comes of its own accord, and although painful, it is good. Godly sorrow is the lancing of the infected wound so it can drain and heal. Freedom from the infection of sin comes through the agony of first excising the rotten portion of our hearts. It hurts, but it’s a pain bringing with it an incredible relief.

With true godly sorrow for our sin, we are driven to turn away from the darkness, repelled by it, rethinking our lives and motives and everything. Godly sorrow turns us completely around away from self-focus and sin-focus to face the Living God. And we are undone by His majesty and kindness, for in place of the hollowness sin leaves behind, He offers us forgiveness, total healing, and a sure hope for a future brimful of joy.

But worldly grief is a different thing. The sorrow of the world is either a false sorrow or it is a sorrow that feeds on itself.

False sorrow leads to false conversion, the seed sown on rocky or thorny ground, the “faith” springing up with joy at the good news but turning away because of persecution or being choked out by pleasures, worries, wealth, hardship, life. False, worldly grief is as temporary as it is shallow, quick to come and as quick to ebb; a feelings-based or even attention-based lip service to God that never reaches the heart or results in a changed person.

Besides this false grief, there is another worldly sorrow, one more closely resembling true godly grief and yet masking a fiendish self-focus. This type is the grief that turns inward, fixated on the horribleness of self and refusing to turn outward and gaze upon the glorious Savior with healing in His wings.

Worldly sorrow either lies and only pretends to accept the gift of salvation, or it gnaws itself endlessly until nothing is left, spurning the gift of forgiveness offered by the King.

Either way, death is the result, because only in the transformation brought about by turning to God and surrendering to His way of being is real life found. The Kingdom of God is the Kingdom of Life. Death holds sway everywhere else.

And there is only one Door into this Kingdom. The only way a wicked human being can enter is by turning to the Christ, the Son of God who was sent into the world to live a life with no need of sorrow over sin because He never sinned. The Door to the Kingdom is Jesus, and there is no other way in. We enter the Kingdom covered by the righteousness of the Christ or we do not enter it at all.

We who, in godly sorrow, turn our backs to our sin may now march right through the Door, frame soaked by the blood of a spotless Lamb, and enter into a Kingdom like no other. A Kingdom that is among us and yet is not yet fully realized; a Kingdom where tension between sin and holiness, life and death, will last a little while more but where ultimately sin, darkness, and death will be overthrown and swallowed up by joy, light, and life.

A Kingdom all are invited to enter, but only some will be willing to part with the sin they hold so dear.

Will you come? Will you abandon yourself to godly sorrow so you may be saved from certain death and given over to the promise of pleasures forevermore and abundant joy at the right hand of God? Friend, I hope you will. Godly sorrow may bring weeping during the night of this world, but joy is sure to come in the morning of the Great Day of the Lord.

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

Half a Century | A Reflection

~ Heather Davis ~ 1 Comment

On March 10, 1974, a tiny human protested the forceful eviction from the warmth of her first home into a cold shock of light and noise.

That is to say, this past March, I turned 50. Oddly enough, checking the box labeled 50-59 doesn’t make me feel as old as the day one of my kiddos (then in middle school) exclaimed in utter disbelief, “You were born in the 1900s?!?” (emphasis unfortunately hers).

Yes. Yes, I was. Thanks for pointing it out.

Born in the 1900s, I am a member of Gen X who worked 40 hours a week during high school, began paying rent at the age of 19, and out of sheer stubborn, stupid pride, shouldered a variety of adult responsibilities and challenges that would probably cast many of today’s young people into a state of horrified catatonia at the mere suggestion. And I didn’t even have social media to document the trauma.

My earliest memories are rather vague: my great-grandfather, who shared his birthday with me, bending over and opening his arms wide; my great-grandmother lying oh-so-still in a bed; my dear Mammaw standing up from a rocking chair, sobbing with a tissue to her face, and walking toward my mama. These are shadowy pictures of great-grandparents; people who passed into eternity before I turned three.

Another early pictorial memory is of a smiling lady with short, dark hair. I recall her taking my hand in the church nursery and lead me out into the parking lot, where we were joined by a pair of trousered legs to her right. Then, the hand holding mine abruptly let go. Afterward, only vague, mixed-up images and a recollection of terror: a sense of being very, very alone and fear as a large car passed very close to me. Somehow being found by a kind older lady. Then – oh joy! – my mama bolting toward me, black hair streaming behind her.

Years later, my family filled in the gaps of this wordless memory, and I learned how close I’d come to leading a very different life. This was my brush with trafficking.

The more concrete memories began when I started school, and I won’t bore you with them. However, I am fascinated to think back on how the world has changed. For example, I began school in first grade, before mandatory kindergarten; a fact I recalled in high school when reading Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451.

“The home environment can undo a lot you try to do at school. That’s why we’ve lowered the kindergarten age year after year until now we’re almost snatching them from the cradle.”

Excerpt from Captain Beatty’s monologue; Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury

Both my grade school experience and this quote leapt to mind the first time a younger mom confided to me during my homeschool days how she worried her 3-year-old wouldn’t be prepared for kindergarten if she couldn’t afford preschool.

How susceptible we are to suggestion…

Still, I’ve enjoyed a rich half century filled with highs, lows, in-betweens, fascinating people, and beautiful sunsets. I’ve seen certain fashions cycle through cool -> dated -> laugh-inducing -> cool.

I’ve shed tears and shared laughs; I’ve followed my heart into a cramped & stifling chamber of horrors; I’ve visited the depths of despair and found God there waiting to bring me home.

Then there are the crazy technological changes I’ve experienced, especially in telephone tech:

  • The rotary dial phone with its restraining cords redeemed by the gratifying wham-ching! of the angry hang-up. Bonus: these babies doubled as formidable weapons.
  • The first push button phones = less time to dial + retaining the pleasures of slamming the handset into the cradle.
  • The wonders of the first cordless phone and testing the bounds of its range before losing the connection. Sometimes you could even make it to the mailbox!
  • The advent of call waiting and caller ID – and screening calls.
  • The first cell phones for rich folk and doctors; monstrosities about the size of a brick.
  • The first time I saw a grandparent Face Timed into his grandkid’s birthday party brought a sense of Star Trek come to life.
  • Then there’s today, where people who can’t even afford milk still manage to pay their monthly cell phone bill. Formidable weapon turned formidable distraction.

<Random Phone-related Memory>

Waiting tables in the 1990s: one afternoon, the hostess led a party of four to their lunch table, each member of the party clutching their 90’s-era cell phones to their ear. The dining room din quieted for a moment, followed by a single snicker. Soon, the whole room was filled with poorly-stifled laughter as the four red-faced businessfolk quickly ended their calls and hid behind their menus.

<Cut to Modern Restaurant Lunch Scene>

Several people are staring at their phones while the hostess seats a party of four who have Bluetooth earbuds in, unobtrusively finishing their calls. All four send a text from their watch before using their phones to scan the QR code and read the menu onscreen. No one notices because this has become normal. And yet, despite the physical proximity of diners remaining the same as in the 90s, there is a vast and subtle social distance surrounding each one.

<Back to the Present Reflection>

Even email, now pervaded with marketing and scams, began as something different. I remember a time one checked emails on occasion via dial-up, hoping to hear the cheery voice proclaim, “You’ve got mail!” – and the email was from an actual, flesh-and-blood acquaintance.

I could go on, but I won’t. There is so much; far too much.

Yet what amazes me most in this last half-century is how God has shored me up through it all. From the moment He sent an older lady out for air at the exact moment a strange couple had spirited three-year-old me half-way through the church parking lot through the times I rejected Him and embraced the values of secular humanism all the way to the moment I recognized those values left me with a life bereft of meaning.

He’s seen me through a long season of intense physical pain and fatigue due to chronic, intractable migraine and post-viral syndrome. What’s more, He even sustained me enough to lay an educational foundation for my three children (then homeschooled), enabling all three to graduate from a private high school with honors and do well in college. The eldest just graduated with a degree in Civil Engineering. The two young ladies will graduate in 2025 with degrees in Cellular and Molecular Biology and Pre-physical Therapy respectively.

Since I was operating in a semi-conscious pain haze during most of their homeschooled years, I cannot claim credit for one bit of it.

Even better, two have maintained their relationship with God through college and the one who ventured away seems to be returning to the Truth that sets free. Only God can do this; I got more wrong in my part than I did right.

And today, the same God is sustaining me through a new season – a season of renewed health and reduced physical pain; a season of reevaluation and reflection. A season of burying the corpses of dreams and mourning what could have been.

Even in this season of upheaval and change, God is good; my Sustainer, my Counselor, and my King. Every moment of pain has only made Him more real, and so I bless His Name for all of the last half century – the good, the bad, and the truly terrible.

In seasons of joy and wonder, I am reminded these are mere glimpses of the true joy and wonder of eternal life in the presence of my King. And in seasons of suffering, loss, or disillusionment, He prompts me to remember this world is not my home as He removes all entanglements out of His lovingkindness.

No matter what the next few years or decades bring, I know I can rest in the completed work of Jesus Christ, my King; for in Him, my sins are forgiven and my future secure. Everything else is just another stepping stone toward glory.

Therefore, since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ. Through him we have also obtained access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and we rejoice in hope of the glory of God. More than that, we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.
(Romans 5:1-5)

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.

Diagnosis

~ Heather Davis ~ 2 Comments

“That’s not a diagnosis; it’s why I’m here.”

Frustration hardened my voice, drawing a sigh from my doctor. She replied, “We’ve literally tested you for everything, and it IS a diagnosis. There may not be a blood test yet but there are diagnostic criteria, and you do have the hallmark symptom of post exertional malaise. Trust me, this is it. Do your research.”

So much for the hope of something treatable.

A diagnosis of ME/CFS is kind of like being told you have a virus, only the symptoms won’t improve in a couple of weeks. No treatment, no definitive disease course, no cure. Yet this obstacle felt minor compared to the despair I felt in my former life as an atheist.

In those days, I could see the world was a mess. Everywhere I looked, I saw a profound brokenness; a sickness for which I could find neither explanation nor cure. Even mirrors reflected the malady so I avoided them when possible. On my own, single and careless if not quite carefree, I could stomach the ugliness. I even participated; a hopeless if-you-can’t-beat-’em-join-’em mentality.

But on the day I stared down at twin pink lines on a pregnancy test, the weight of the world’s horrors squeezed the air from my lungs.

Could I bring a child into this dismal world where evil lurked in broad daylight; where wars and kidnappings and murders were so commonplace that the news needed something splashier to capture the attention of a calloused public? Was it even moral to consider ushering an innocent life into such depravity?

These were the questions that drove me to my search for truth, and in doing so, I discovered there is not only a definitive diagnosis for the world’s disease, there is also a cure.

Imagine my relief.

The world’s diagnosis is simple: sin.

It’s hard to believe so much atrocity and sorrow can be encompassed by three letters of the English language, and yet it’s true. We live in an age that discounts sin as old-fashioned while failing to grasp the far-reaching devastation it brings.

Instead of measuring right and wrong against a set standard, we prefer to measure our choices against other rights and wrongs. “Sure, I’ve told a lie or two, but at least I’m not a murderer.”

We compare ourselves to Hitler or Charles Manson and feel confident that we aren’t that bad. But we are. The infection is so great, we don’t even see how it’s warped our very understanding.

Instead of being measurable against itself, sin is far more like cancer. One tiny cancer cell multiplies rapidly until the entire organism’s resources are taxed. Cancer, untreated, leads to death. Sin is no different but it is more complicated. Cancer affects only the organism it lives within; sin affects everything and everyone.

Like ripples a water droplet causes in a body of water, sin’s malignancy spreads out and disrupts other people and other elements of this world. To trace the influence of the myriad sins even of a single human being would be tantamount to documenting the impact and reverberation of every single ripple caused by each drop of rain in a hurricane.

However, the world and its inhabitants are not affected by a single person’s sin but by the collective sins of all people of all times. Only an all-powerful, all-knowing Being could sort it all out. And indeed, that’s exactly what happened.

God, the Creator who spoke the world and all its complexity into existence, understands the hopeless mangling of His creation caused by sin. He who created humanity that we might share His love also allowed us – as love must – to choose for ourselves whether or not we will share in it. And when each and every one of us rejected His love for the fleeting pleasure of deciding for ourselves what is and is not good and right, He saw the mess we made of things – and He had compassion.

As a father shows compassion to his children, so the Lord shows compassion to those who fear Him. For He knows our frame; He remembers that we are dust.

Psalm 103:13-14

To me, this still comes as a shock.

The human response to a creation that defies and destroys would be anger, frustration, annihilation. But God had compassion for us rebels.

His compassion led to the cure for sin – a cure that I’ll be the first to admit sounds unbelievable. He sent His Son to live as human beings were meant to live – in obedience to His created structure – and then to die as a willing sacrifice to pay the price for sin.

For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Romans 6:23

Though the Son of God and Son of Man may have clothed Himself in death, He didn’t wear it forever. By the mystery of melded God and flesh and the unwarranted compassion of the Creator who became a part of His own creation, He died. Then He left death behind, discarded along with his grave cloth. He not only accepted the penalty for sin, He overcame it.

Death is swallowed up in victory.
O death, where is your victory?
O death, where is your sting?

1 Corinthians 15:55

Now because of Yeshua Messiah, Jesus the Christ, all we who are hopelessly infected with sin can choose to die to sin by putting our desire to be in charge to death. Then, free from the stranglehold of sin, we can also discard death as a useless garment and walk into true and everlasting life.

The journey starts now, and we must each choose our path. Choose wisely. There are only two options: either the path of sin leading only to death, or the Way of Messiah Yeshua by which we put sin to death and are gifted with life and peace- glorious, true and abundant.

There is only one cure for the cancer of the soul, and His name is Yeshua (Jesus). But like all cures, it is up to each person to accept it and apply it.

Can a Corpse Be Pleasing?

~ Heather Davis ~ Leave a comment

I have a crazy question for you: has a corpse every done anything you find pleasing?

Humor me for a minute. I’ve been thinking about how the Scriptures teach that we are dead in sin. Romans 6:23 tells us the wages of sin is death – literally, we earn death by sinning – but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Other Scriptures talk about it too – Ephesians 2 starts off by telling us we were dead in our trespasses and sins and Romans 8 contrasts walking by the Spirit of God and walking in the death of sin, and so on.

And you were dead in the trespasses and sins. . .

Ephesians 2:1

For to set the mind on the flesh is death, but to set the mind on the Spirit is life and peace. . . But if Christ is in you, although the body is dead because of sin, the Spirit is life because of righteousness.

Romans 8:6, 10

We are spiritual corpses without Christ; the literal walking dead. So that’s been on my mind; then on Sunday, our pastor was preaching from John 3 and talked about Nicodemus, the Pharisee and ruler. This man probably knew the Tanakh (Scriptures of the time) about as well as he knew his name.

As Jay said, Nicodemus grew up understanding that if he memorized all these Scriptures, did all the right things, and followed all the rules, God would be pleased with him.

It hit me funny: how can God be pleased with a corpse? Who’s ever pleased with a corpse?

If a corpse could do anything at all, it could only do rotten things. Dead things. It just reminds me of how Jesus said in John 15 that apart from Him, we can do nothing.

Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in me. I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing.

John 15:4-5

Think about that today. God loved you so much when you were a corpse that He sent His only Son to bring you to life.

That’s how loved you are. Go in that love today.

Let’s Talk About S–

~ Heather Davis ~ 2 Comments

Sin. I want to talk about sin. Get your mind out of the gutter, ya perv.

Seriously, though, we really don’t talk much about sin anymore, and I think I know why.

As humans, we have an innate understanding of right and wrong. Over time, this understanding becomes twisted by our pride, distorted by repeated suppression, and is subject to a myriad of other deformations. Yet somewhere deep inside, we all know certain things are wrong – even if we only recognize them as a wrong when done to us.

They show that the work of the law is written on their hearts, while their conscience also bears witness, and their conflicting thoughts accuse or even excuse them

Romans 2:15

The general term for this understanding is conscience. And like any other human part, it can become scarred-over and calloused until there’s no feeling left.

Which brings us to today.

Instead of sin, we talk about things like lifestyle, my truth, or even illness. Much air is expended discussing our battles or our challenges. When confronted with wrongdoing, Christian influencers may confess their struggles. . . but not their sin.

It’s true we do go to battle against our sinful inclinations; we must struggle against temptation to sin. And yet, more often than not, the words are not used in this way but rather as a clever dodge to avoid responsibility. A struggle or a lifestyle is much more palatable than a willful crime.

What we’re missing in this subtle semantic waltz is the gravity of sin.

Sin is a killer. Period.

Sin is ugly. It is rebellion against the Maker; treason against the King; a refusal of the creation to perform its function as it was designed.

Sin lies. It cheats us of true life. It steals joy and covers it up in an endless, wretched pursuit of meager happiness and fleeting pleasure.

And no matter what name we give to make it sweeter to say, sin leads to death. In fact, death is what the sinner earns – as surely as you earn your paycheck from your employer.

For the wages of sin is death. . .

“But I’m not dead,” you may say, and perhaps you’re right. I wonder, though: can you honestly tell me you have a single relationship that hasn’t suffered a kind of death? Was any type of harm ever done to you by another person? Have you ever harmed another, even mildly?

Death of trust, death of respect, death of joy, of reputation, commitment, communication. Death everywhere we look, if we look with honesty. Even the cooling of affections is a kind of death.

Friends, this horror covers only one kind of death. The rot of sin goes far deeper than this.

. . . but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.

(Romans 6:23)

The good news is, we don’t have to accept death. We can talk about our sin; confess it, repent of it, and be set free in Christ. Expose the canker of sin to the fresh air of truth.

It may hurt, it may be embarrassing, but I can tell you from experience there is no cleaner pain. Like debriding an infected wound, the momentary torment is nothing compared to the relief of healing.

Let’s confess our sin to God our Healer and turn away in true repentance, trusting in the work of the Son of God to break the chains of sin and make us really free.

But now that you have been set free from sin and have become slaves of God, the fruit you get leads to sanctification and its end, eternal life.

Romans 6:22

Comfort Zones

~ Heather Davis ~ 4 Comments

Passing alongside the Sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and Andrew the brother of Simon casting a net into the sea, for they were fishermen. And Jesus said to them, “Follow me, and I will make you become fishers of men.” And immediately they left their nets and followed him.

Mark 1:16-18

My analog life is coming at me hard and fast these days, which hasn’t allowed a great deal of time for writing or bloggish fellowship. I miss everyone, but I also know this is a busy-but-brief season.

In two short years, my nest will likely be empty of all but animal fur, echoing with the memories of busy teenagers and their friends.

Before I grow nostalgic over events yet to be, allow me to segue into a funny moment I recently enjoyed with my heavenly Father. It happened during new faculty orientation when my boss mentioned the need to step out of our comfort zones.

My comfort zone. I stopped just short of laughing aloud.

(Legitimate reminiscence begins here).

As a young atheist, I swore I would never have children, aspiring instead to the status of eccentric aunt. I would spoil my nieces and nephews with the money I earned from the cool job I’d have – a job which I adamantly declared would NOT be teaching.

However, God did not allow me to continue in my atheism long, startling me into full awareness of Him by gifting me with our son, Nathan – whose name I much later learned is Hebrew for “He gives.”

Do you enjoy irony?

Evidently, so does my God.

Before the dust settled around the collapsed house of cards my old worldview turned out to be, God gave me two more children in fairly rapid succession.  But He was only setting the stage.

Now that He had my attention with an undeniable call to motherhood, He placed a new calling on my life: Homeschooling.

“What, Lord?? You must be kidding!”

He wasn’t.

He called me to teach my children – not only about Him, but about reading, writing, and all the things as well. In the meantime, the Lord continued removing cushions from my comfort zone. 

For example, I was painfully shy and loathed talking in groups. He had plans for that, too.

You know that awkward silence that happens when a group leader asks a question and everyone looks at the floor and hopes someone else will speak up? Guess who gets to break those silences? Turns out, speaking up was a nonsensical fear.

To avoid writing a lengthy, multi-part series about the methodical deconstruction of my comfort zone, let me fast forward a bit.

After a decade of homeschooling, breaking awkward silences, teaching classes of young children, and a grand array of other things I said I’d never do, I thought I’d learned my lesson pretty well. However, I’m afraid I did state out loud to others that middle school students were not my favorite age group.

You see where this is going, don’t you? I should have…

Back to orientation for my new job – as an office assistant and a middle school photography teacher.

On the way home, I talked with the Lord, reflecting about how I no longer had a comfort zone. Since my first faltering steps of obedience, He’s taken me on a whirlwind journey down overgrown paths and little-used avenues in directions I didn’t even know existed.

I’ve never once known what is coming next, but somehow I’ve lost my anxiety about the future along the way. Pretty sure I dropped it along with a sizeable hunk of self-interest during one of many full-bore pivots around a blind hairpin turn.

Anyway, as we talked, I heard that beloved, oh-so-familiar whisper. You still have a Comfort Zone; just not the same one.

He’s right. He always is.

My comfort zone is much more expansive than it used to be. It’s less a zone than an Eternity.

You see, my present comfort zone is precisely in the middle of God’s will. It’s always an adventure, not always exactly comfortable for my flesh, but it is the safest and best place I can be.  

And it’s exactly where I want to be.

You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on You, 
because he trusts in You.
Trust in the Lord forever, 
for the Lord God is an everlasting rock.
Isaiah 26:3-4

Good Friday Reflections

~ Heather Davis ~ 8 Comments

And if Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile and you are still in your sins. Then those also who have fallen asleep in Christ have perished. If in Christ we have hope in this life only, we are of all people most to be pitied.

1 Corinthians 15:17-19

If Good Friday were the end of the story and the Man on the cross merely died, the way I’ve lived my life for the last 17-odd years has been nothing more than a waste.

Without the Resurrection, the sacrifices I’ve made, the pain I’ve endured, the hours spent in prayer and Bible study, the money gifted to the Church and missions – wasted. Useless. Meaningless.

But don’t ask me. Ask Moses, a Ugandan man who’s been run out of his home along with his wife and 6 children because of his decision to follow Yeshua instead of Mohammed.

Or Sukbati whose husband was murdered for his faith and who now must support five children in the midst of her grief. Yet she has said she will not give up on Jesus.

Without the Resurrection, Good Friday is no longer good. It becomes just a day that another man died – one of billions. And Moses and Sukbati and millions like them suffer needlessly – giving up ease in this life for no reason at all.

Worse yet, without the Resurrection, we are all still in our sins. Me, Sukbati, and all believers. Believe it or not, friends, that’s worse than any persecution or pain this life can throw at us.

It means an ancient and creeping death sickens our hearts and decays our spirits, destroying any hope of restoration with our Creator and making mockery of the innate desire for immortality we all hold deep within. That is what sin is, and how rightly we should feel horror at it.

But the good news of Good Friday is that it did not end when Yeshua declared, “It is finished,” and gave up His spirit.

Firstly, His death was an act of purpose – He gave up His spirit; it was not taken from Him. He died on purpose, giving His perfect life in payment of the debt we have all incurred by our rebellious ways.

Then, on the first Easter Sunday, God raised up His one and only Son, so that the final victory over sin and death has been won. Sin brought death into the world; the sinless life of Yeshua Messiah, Christ Jesus my Lord, took on death and defeated it by His return to life.

Now we who are in Christ live a life of self-sacrifice – not because we are good people or for some hope of self-improvement – but because we are grateful for the Man who bought back our souls from death.

The life I live, I do not live for the praise of others but out of sheer thankfulness. If He gave His perfect life for me, I can certainly give my broken mess right back to Him. It may not be much, but it’s all I have. And I give it willingly, grateful even if I am ever called to suffer the rest of my years for His sake, because He already suffered for mine.

The hope of Easter is not a hope for today or for any earthly good at all. It’s a hope for a future far beyond today; a hope that in 100 and 1000 and countless years beyond, those of us who follow Jesus now will be following Him still, rejoicing in His presence, forever freed from sin, death, and despair.

Forever adoring the One who first adored us so much that He gave up the life of His one and only Son that we may join Him in eternal worship.

Hallelujah! He is risen!