I thought of a name for my autobiography, if I ever decide to write it: Well, That Didn’t Work.

My life is full of things that didn’t go the way I’d wanted or planned. Some incidents I’d drop in that file marked “It’s Just a Thing.” Another file would be marked, “What Were You Thinking?” And, unfortunately, one file would be marked “You Blew It.”

That third file would be full of unpleasant accounts.

I’m prone to be unduly hard on myself. Can I get an “amen?”

I’m learning, though, that all my past mistakes, those moments of weakness, are redeemable. Check this out.

The scene is the Garden of Gethsemane—a pivotal moment not just in biblical history, but as a metaphor for our own spiritual journeys. Picture it: the disciples, those closest to Jesus, succumbed to human weakness, dozing off when they were needed most. When they woke, imagine the weight of their regret, the sinking feeling of having missed a crucial moment to support their friend and teacher. It’s a scenario many of us can relate to on a personal level.

This story isn’t just about physical sleep; it’s about moments of spiritual slumber, times when we’ve been absent when it mattered most—missed opportunities to stand by someone, to make a difference, or to take a step of faith. And like the disciples, we often wake up to a harsh self-judgment: “How could I have let that happen?” We beat ourselves up, thinking it’s all over, that we’ve blown it for good.

But here’s the twist: despair isn’t an anomaly; it’s part of the human experience. It’s as common as the cold, and just as unwelcome. Yet, it’s in these moments of despair that Jesus steps in with a message that’s both startling and soothing. He essentially tells us, “Okay, you missed that one. But let’s not dwell on it. There’s more ahead.”

I like the concept of leaving our past failures in the “sweet embrace of Christ.” It’s about allowing ourselves to move on, not ignoring our mistakes, but not letting them anchor us in place either. Jesus’s approach is not one of dismissal but of gentle redirection: “Get up, and do the next thing.”

And what is this “next thing”? It’s moving forward with trust and faith in Him, praying and acting from a place of redemption, not regret. The best thing we could do is shift our focus from what we’ve done wrong to what we can do right, starting now.

This message is incredibly relevant for all of us. How often do we find ourselves paralyzed by past missteps? How frequently do we let the fear of failure stop us from stepping out again? Yet, here we’re reminded that our past doesn’t have to dictate our future. Our spiritual journey is not defined by how many times we’ve fallen, but by how many times we get up—and who we’re walking with.

Want some encouragement? The message is clear: there’s always a next step, a new chapter waiting to be written with God by our side.

So, let’s take this advice to heart. Let’s not let the sense of past failure defeat our next step. Instead, let’s lean into the “invincible future” with Jesus, trusting in His redemption, and always ready to do the next thing.

Until next time, keep walking in faith and light, embracing each new day and opportunity with the joy and assurance that comes from knowing He’s got us, every step of the way.

“Return to Wholeness” implies that something was broken and needed restoration.

I get that. That’s why I’ve developed an online course with that name.

Return to Wholeness is an online course to help broken Christians feel better, become whole, experience supernatural peace – and have fun in the process.

Sounds counterintuitive, right? 

Through my service in Christian ministry for 40+ years, I’ve seen so many believers stall out in their faith – they spend their days frustrated, defeated, and even desperate. Broken, in other words.  The fulfilling Christian life that others seem to experience eludes them.I know what I’m talking about – you could count me among that number.

I know how you feel. I’ve felt the same way. What I have found is that there is a path to feeling better (actually, BEING better) and it’s a spiritually and scripturally based journey.

This concept has been gradually built in local churches I’ve served over the years, coming alongside literally hundreds of fellow pilgrims in group settings and one-on-one, and I’m happy to say that it has officially launched.  

What totally caught me off guard is that a national publication picked up on the story. Believe me, Return to Wholeness wasn’t promoted to them.

Here’s the link to the article. It’s a quick read. I think this is pretty cool.

The story in The Baptist Paper does a jam-up job of explaining where I’m coming from. Return to Wholeness is a passion project for me. “Driven” is a strong word, but that’s where I find myself.

Return to Wholeness is an online course, so you can enjoy it (and implement it) right from where you are!

Here’s the thing, though. Take heed. I’m not playing.

I’m enrolling students right now through September 20 (or until we sell out)!

There is limited availability. After September 20, the price will go up.

You’ll receive access to the first unit on September 26, and each subsequent lesson will be delivered each week after that. This way, you can consume the content in your own time.

Here is a document explaining much of what you’ve already heard, but it also contains all you need to get started.

But – one huge component to Return to Wholeness will be access to a very exclusive membership-only Facebook group. You’ll be able to interact with your fellow pilgrims. You can ask questions, share progress, get encouragement when you’re “stuck,” and have access to me personally. You can engage at whatever level you’re comfortable with. You’ll never walk alone. This is fire. 🔥

What distinguishes Return to Wholeness from any other course I’m aware of is that I am persuaded that becoming whole again doesn’t have to be a slog. It doesn’t have to be heavy, oppressive, grueling, or dark. Dark valleys give way to green pastures, and there is a joy in that. What I’ll share will give you joy, and I will make sure you have fun along the way. 

And if you have this God-driven sense that you won’t benefit from this course, would you happen to know of a friend or family member who would? I’d just about assure you that’s the case.

I created Return to Wholeness because I am heartbroken at how many Christians I meet who are living defeated lives of quiet desperation. That scripturally-promised abundant life simply isn’t a reality for them. And, in this fallen and toxic world, so many seem to be abandoning hope.

It doesn’t have to be that way.

It doesn’t matter who you are, what has happened in your past, or the degree of anxiety you have about the future. You can return to the wholeness you once experienced and felt as a new believer. 

If you want to feel better and be better, if you want to be restored after brokenness, and you want to experience supernatural peace without having to deal with past hurt and tragedy, be sure to join us in Return to Wholeness.

I had a friend ask me, “Tony, are you trying to sell something?”

I sure am. Here’s what I’ve realized. Selling is service. I’m providing a tool that can potentially be life-changing, and I say that because it’s God who brings about change. We just have to position ourselves in a place where He’s working, give some hope and encouragement and tools, and let Him do what only He can do.

When you join Return to Wholeness, you get:

• 7 Steps to Wholeness. This is the heart and soul of the course, presented in an easily accessible, upbeat, and encouraging video format.
• 7 Steps to Wholeness Workbook. This is the written companion piece to the video study, including a listening guide, interactive questions, and other goodies – not “schoolish” at all.
• 31 Days to Restoration. This hands-on devotional guide will complement and interface with what you’re learning in the course by helping you develop intimacy with Jesus Christ.
• Personal Journal. If you aren’t journaling (or maybe if you already are), here’s where you start … this downloadable PDF will help you unpack your head and get some mental and emotional breathing room.
• The Me Nobody Knows. This assessment instrument will help you identify the pain points in your life and prepare you for your study ahead – and will also show you the progress you’ve made when all is said and done.
• Direction Finder. Here’s my bulletproof method of how to make wise decisions, presented in a sequential, step-by-step format. You’ll love this.
• The Restoration Group. This might be the most important component of this course – a private, curated Facebook group strictly for students of Return to Wholeness. We’re here for each other – for mutual encouragement, celebration, grief, and plenty of opportunities to interact with me personally. 

Again, the price will most assuredly go up September 20. While enrollment will stay open indefinitely, I have to rein things in somehow.

If you’ve made it this far, here is a document explaining much of what you’ve already heard, but it also contains all you need to get started.

That’s it. Be blessed. Comment below.

I am struck this morning by how many people are living in fear. 

For some, it’s a definite, identifiable “thing.” Others, it’s just a general sense of being afraid.

Consider this. COVID is still hanging around, although it seems to be on the decline, thank you, Jesus. Sure, there are those out there who sound the alarm over some new variant, some new precaution, some new mandate (yuck. But in my neck of the woods, I’m hearing a resounding “so what?”) 

At any rate, the virus, and all that surrounds it, are working on folks who are living in fear. 

It might be fear of the virus itself. It has killed people. So people living in fear of the virus might take steps to protect themselves that others think are nonsense.

There, too, is the fear of vaccines. Some of those living in fear of vaccines think the science isn’t settled, that there is some nefarious global conspiracy, or other thoughts.

Depending on which side you come down on, the truth is that there are those living in fear no matter what the other side says. Who’s right? Beats me, but that’s not the point.

Point is – people are scared.

There are plenty of other Very Bad Things that can cause folks to live in fear.

• Ukraine. While if you are “safe” in the relative isolation of our country – at least, you don’t see evidence that Russia is about to invade your town – there are Ukrainians who are being systematically annihilated. That’s genuinely scary. 
• The economy. People, I’m just about at a place where I’m going to need to take out a second mortgage just to pay for food and gas. I went to buy a pound of ground beef yesterday, and thought I’d need an armed escort to walk me back to the car. I was afraid I’d be mugged for meat and it would then be sold on the black market.
• Morals. Just when I think it can’t get worse, I’ll be danged – it can, and it does. The values I grew up with are routinely spurned, if not ridiculed. Gender issues? I don’t know where to even start. It flies in the face of rational thinking. Celebrating sin? I see that all the time. How folks can be proud of being perverse is beyond me, but hey, I’m a dinosaur, right? 

All that’s to say … maybe you’re living in fear. As God is my witness, I am here to say to you: That is not of God.

A couple of distinctions, however.

• There is a difference in fear and legitimate concern. There are irrational fears, certainly. As I write this, we are anticipating our weekly round of tornadic weather. Ah, the joys of living in Mississippi! This is the fourth week in a row. But I am not afraid. Being scared isn’t helpful. I can be concerned, because concern will take me to a place of prudence and caution. I’ll watch our weathercasts, and do what I need to do to be safe. See the difference? 
• Concern moves you to positive, practical actions. Fear settles into your bone marrow and slowly makes you crazy.

This may sound clinical and cold, but it can help simply to play the odds. The odds are extraordinarily good that we won’t be wiped out by a tornado. I’ve heard people say, regarding the COVID vaccine, “People have died from that!” My response? “Not that many.” I mean, what am I supposed to say? (There’s a little snark there on my part. Maybe you need to add me to your prayer list.)

All this setup about living in fear gives me all the reason I need to give you hope and encouragement.

I expect some of the most fearful people in all the Bible were Jesus’ disciples after the crucifixion. These poor hapless guys. They’d spent literally years with Jesus, saw a lot of amazing things (healings? People being raised from the dead? You know, just typical occurrences in the first century.) He even made this audacious claim that after three days in a tomb He’d come back to life. 

The disciples knew all this. It didn’t sink in. Maybe they thought He was speaking metaphorically. 

Because, when He was arrested, they bolted and ran. At the crucifixion itself, I’m guessing some of them felt close to despair. They deserted Him because they were flat-out scared, and the best some of them could manage while Jesus was on the cross was to watch from a distance. And after all that, we see the disciples all scrunched up together, behind locked doors because they were afraid. Living in fear, as it were. Muttering things like, “Well, that didn’t go like it was supposed to.”

Then Jesus busts up right in the middle of them. Boo-yah! That scared them, too, but they ended up rejoicing. (Is that a lesson for us or what?)

After the resurrection came the ascension. 

At this point, I’m gonna admit to being lazy and instead of the research I should do, I’m going to rely on my admittedly porous memory.

I can’t recall a single time in scripture – specifically in Acts – where there was any word or evidence that would lead me to believe the disciples were living in fear any more. (Feel free to correct me.)

It’s apparent. Experiencing the resurrection eliminated fear. 

Want me to belabor the obvious? 

In light of the resurrection, which this year we celebrate on April 17, we don’t need to be living in fear any more. The fear of death has been removed. Since that’s the big one, then it stands to reason we don’t have anything else to be afraid of, either.

This is easier said than done, of course. Still, the banishment of fear comes with a complete identification with Jesus Christ and the power that comes from the Holy Spirit. As in all things in life, you don’t have to face your fears alone. 

The tomb is empty and the throne is occupied. O be joyful.

Talk soon!                                                                                                              

What am I afraid of? That’s a pretty provocative question, right?

So what are you afraid of?

I wouldn’t classify it as a full-blown phobia, but I am afraid of heights. I do fine if I’m strapped into something secure (think theme park rides), or if there’s a guard rail between me and the void. But put me on a roof, or a ladder, and I’m gonna have heart palpitations and sweaty palms.

That, however, isn’t the kind of fear I’m talking about. When I think in terms of what I am afraid of, mine is more existential.

Disclosure time. Don’t judge until you read this whole blog.

For as long as I can remember as an adult, I’ve had this fear of being destitute and not being able to provide for the needs of my family or myself. It’s not really a fear of being jobless, but rather not having enough money to meet my obligations and simple necessities. I might even identify this as a fear of being broke.

That is what I am afraid of. You may think that’s foolish, but I’m keeping it real.

Stay with me here.

Several years ago, there was a book and a movie called Still Alice. 

Julianne Moore won the Academy Award for Best Actress for this one. It tells the story of Alice Howland, a linguistics professor diagnosed with familial Alzheimer’s disease shortly after her 50th birthday.

I’m probably mangling this quote – Google didn’t help me this time – but Alice says, “I have no control over which yesterday I keep and which ones are deleted. My yesterdays are disappearing and my tomorrows are uncertain. So what do I live for?”

And you think you have problems.

Point being – there may be times when we find ourselves in moments of hesitation and uncertainty when it comes to God’s plan for our lives. We might find ourselves afraid of what might be coming into our lives.

The obvious – and uncomfortable bottom line – is “do you trust God?” My goodness, what a confrontational question.

Say it with me: “Of course I trust God!”

Yeah, but, why are we so often afraid? My scriptured-up side says, “What can mere mortals do to me?” My pervasive flesh says, “Yeah, but …”

Ouch.

I don’t think we’re alone in this at all. A quick perusal of ancient script verifies this.

I wonder was Moses afraid? Here he is with a literal country wandering around with him for forty years in the desert. Was he afraid of what was ahead?

Take Abraham. He boldly (it seems) took his only son Isaac up the side of a mountain with the goal of killing him because God had commanded it. Was he afraid?

Or even Mary. Here she is with her newborn,  presenting Him in the temple, and old Simeon said “and a sword will pierce your own soul.” Think that might’ve made her fear?

Back to the question: What are you afraid of?

I’m finding Psalm 56:4 helpful here. This is from the Christian Standard Bible translation:

In God, whose word I praise, in God I trust; I will not be afraid. What can mere mortals do to me?

Look. I know my fears are irrational. Really, now – what part of Creation should frighten me, since God is my Father and He created all of Creation?

I suppose we can be afraid of both the known and the unknown, as in I know I’m afraid of heights. That still isn’t a primarily rational fear.

It’s that fear of destitution, in my case. That’s a man made, cultural construct. Yep, it can be oppressive on a bad day.

That’s why I constantly pray, “God, be patient with me. I’m better than this.”

That’s my little confession. And the key to fixing this is to fall back into the arms of Christ.

That scripture I shared with you? It says to not fear, but to trust and to praise.

The Hebrew word for “trust” is batah (and no, I’m not a linguist. I just have some handy tools). It means “to put confidence in,” but it also carries the sense of “falling to the ground.”

That’s a very vulnerable, submissive position right there. On your face.

And that word for praise? That’s gonna be the word halal, the root word of hallelujah. But it also carries the sense of “to shine” or “radiate.” So, yeah … does your life reflect Jesus? Does it shine?

What do shining or taking a posture of humility have to do with fear? How does that impact what you’re afraid of?

Imagine that you’re kneeling. Psalm 118 talks about God being by your side. Feel that. Imagine you’re leaning on Him, and that He is facing your fears for you. Listen – there’s a battle raging around you and before you. And what does God say to you?

You look around, and before you is a scene of victory. Is your face shining? How do you respond to God now that your enemies and fears have been destroyed?

Hebrews 13:6 carries this same theme.

So we say with confidence,
“The Lord is my helper; I will not be afraid.
What can mere mortals do to me?”

Here you go: You can come out of distress, because you call Him Lord. He will set you free from fear and be your helper. Earthly fear means nothing with God at your side.

Soak in this.

He is an all-knowing and sufficient God. He gives hope. You can’t do this on your own strength. It has to happen in His strength.

Do this:

Call out your fears by name. And as you do, say “what is it in this I need to fear?”

Watch what happens. Embrace it.

Be well.

It’s not all about you. It never has been. Check this out:

“I believe that man will not merely endure: he will prevail. He is immortal, not because he alone among creatures has an inexhaustible voice, but because he has a soul, a spirit capable of compassion and sacrifice and endurance. The poet’s, the writer’s, duty is to write about these things. It is his privilege to help man endure by lifting his heart, by reminding him of the courage and honor and hope and pride and compassion and pity and sacrifice which have been the glory of his past. The poet’s voice need not merely be the record of man, it can be one of the props, the pillars to help him endure and prevail.” – William Faulkner

You just read the closing part of Faulkner’s acceptance speech for the Nobel Prize at the Nobel banquet at City Hall in Stockholm, Sweden, on December 10, 1950. The entire speech lasted about three minutes and, like the Gettysburg Address, has no fat on its bones at all. It was succinct, powerful stuff. I won’t post the whole thing, but it bears reading. Google it.

If you read Faulkner, you’ll find that his writings are packed with Christian themes (although his personal life, with multiple affairs, leads me to think that he lived his life just a little on the wrong side of the King James Version.) But I love the quote above, and here’s why:

It’s not all about you.

We can, if we aren’t careful, turn into self-serving little clods.

We live in this culture of outrage. We are offended by everything. Granted, some things are worth getting worked up over. But pity the one who goes through life looking for something to get enraged about. So they rant, and rail, and lash out at anyone who doesn’t see things the way they do. And, in offense’s worst state, they want those not agreeing with them shut down, silenced, banished.

I want to state unequivocally that wanting someone who disagrees with you to be silenced is cowardly and non-Christian.

What are you afraid of? Have we become such weenies that we are threatened by opposing viewpoints? To put a finer point on things, are we not as Christians so uncertain about our own beliefs that to be confronted with challenges causes us to run to the nearest rabbit hole?

Check out Faulkner again, and he implies that it’s not all about you. He states that we are capable of compassion, sacrifice, and endurance. In the context of believers, that implies that we can care and love for our enemies, that we can give ourselves to them and for them, and that we can stand up to anything hurtful or harmful – or unfair and inaccurate – that they might say to us. Actually, that sounds pretty Christlike to me.

Faulkner’s answer was found in words, in poetry, in soaring discourse. Read this again:

It is his (the writer’s) privilege to help man endure by lifting his heart, by reminding him of the courage and honor and hope and pride and compassion and pity and sacrifice which have been the glory of his past.

That’s good counsel for the poet, and good counsel for us, too. We have that same privilege as we look to others.

But we can’t give away something that we don’t have. We are the end product of those before us who give us examples of courage, honor, hope, pride, compassion, pity, and sacrifice. More importantly, we have received the same examples from Christ Himself.

Here’s the point. Don’t miss the point.

To the extent that you can accept these strengths, divinely given, you can prevail against the ill winds of culture. You have a new Spirit in you, if you’re a believer. It’s a Spirit that will guide you away from blind outrage, away from perceived or real slights, away from any sense of entitlement you may have.

Life is hard. It’s SUPPOSED to be. You are supposed to struggle and contend. Without struggle, where would the glory be? No, see, you are supernaturally empowered to be gifted, to be a gift, to be an encourager, and to always and forever have hope. You don’t have to remain in the dark state you are in. O be joyful. You have reason to hope.

Comments are welcome and encouraged.

When God takes His hands off you, or a people, or a situation, what happens next?

This is a really sobering thought for me today. I’m not a theologian nor the son of a theologian, but I’m trying to work intuitively here.

Here’s my little thesis: God allows things to happen He doesn’t like.

When God takes His hands off, it simply means that He allows things to reach their natural conclusions without Him intervening. He, in effect, says, “Fine. Have it your way.”

Understand this: God is all-powerful. He can control everything that happens in this world. As in:

• The spread of disease.
• Natural disasters.
• The election or appointment of kings, rulers, government officials, and others in authority.
• The time of your birth and the time of your death.

It’s for these reasons and more that some people reject Christianity outright. How can a good, loving God allow COVID-19, hurricanes, the election of people who have no faith or morals, or the untimely death of someone young and innocent?

Beats me. These are topics that are seen through a glass, and darkly.

Here’s the ancient script that got me thinking about all this. It’s Isaiah 54:14-15:

In righteousness you will be established:
Tyranny will be far from you;
you will have nothing to fear.
Terror will be far removed;
it will not come near you.
If anyone does attack you, it will not be my doing;
whoever attacks you will surrender to you.

I’m not going to get into the background and context of these verses – if you’re of a mind, help yourself and do some independent study, which I’d always encourage.

Rather, I’d like to focus on when God takes His hands off.

It’s actually pretty basic, but worth noting nonetheless.

I’m convinced God gives humans freedom to decide some things for themselves, and then figuratively takes His hands off. That doesn’t mean that He isn’t monitoring the situation. It just means that He allows the consequences of our actions, and He is in no fashion obligated to rush in and fix things. He can, He could, but will He?

I guess it depends.

So when God takes His hands off, we own our choices.

Stated differently, when we sin, we have only ourselves to blame for our consequences. Most often, when we sin, we are very aware of what we’re doing.

Of course God can prevent evil. He’s God. It’s not a ying and yang thing – there’s no equality or balance between righteousness and wickedness. He allows it to continue, though.

In the Isaiah verses, know that God could prevent the attacks mentioned.

If anyone does attack you, it will not be my doing.

There are a lot more questions I have than I have answers for. Still. God is good and what He does is always right. When God takes His hands off, He knows what He’s doing.

Having given you and me certain authority, he allows us to play out our own drama.

Ponder that.

Be well.

Do you have a fear of surrender? I’d never really even thought about that.

Here’s what got me thinking about this – overthinking as usual. It’s a quote from Elizabeth Gilbert that deals with a fear of surrender.

Disclaimer: I’m an Elizabeth Gilbert nonfan, for the most part. She wrote Eat, Pray, Love, which was made into a movie with Julia Roberts – it’s waaaaay too New-Agey for me. Then there’s her involvement with Rob Bell. I’ll leave that right there. I don’t think I want to get into Bell right now. You can comment below if you’re so inclined.

Anyway. Here’s her quote about a fear of surrender:

You are afraid of surrender because you don’t want to lose control. But you never had control; all you had was anxiety.

Ponder that, pilgrim.

Here’s the implication: most of us have control freak tendencies. We like to call the shots. We don’t like to think that there are areas of our life we can’t manage.

Surrender implies strongly that we aren’t in control.

Think of a textbook example of surrender. You are in the military. You are in battle. The enemy surrounds you. And the enemy commanding officer demands that you surrender to him.

With that surrender, you are giving up your rights to yourself. You have handed yourself over into the hands of someone else who can do with you what they please.

In other words, you’ve lost control. That’s where the fear of surrender comes in.

Elizabeth Gilbert states that you never had control. All you had was anxiety. You worry about the things you have no control over. Hence, you have a fear of surrender.

I almost hate to bring up COVID-19 again. Dude, I am so over this. But it’s here, and it’s not going away, at least here in the United States … not anytime soon, it seems. I am comforted, sorta, in knowing that the odds are very good I won’t get it, and if I should, the odds are very good it won’t kill me.

What is concerning, though, is  fear and depression are also rising. According to a poll conducted by Kaiser Family Foundation, almost half of Americans report that the coronavirus crisis is harming their mental health. You may not get the virus, but there’s a 50% chance that it’ll mess with your mental and emotional health. That’s where the anxiety comes in. You do have some control over COVID-19 – there seem to be ways to avoid getting it (duh) – but there can be other significant health tolls.

So there’s that fear of surrender, the fear of loss of control. Which you never had anyway. Instead, you just worried.

Worry and anxiety haven’t historically been my kryptonite; I’m the depression case study. That’s been an issue for, like, forever, but my head injury just compounded it. (But, as I’ve stated plenty of times before, good healthcare, both medically and psychologically, along with my faith, keeps things pretty well in check. Yay!)

I don’t know where your head is these days, but I’ll wager a couple of these questions have come up:

• Do I have enough money in case the economy shuts down?
• Will I keep my job?
• What’s school gonna look like in the fall?
• Are we going to have to social distance forever? and masks?
• Will I get sick? Will someone I care about get sick?
• Can life ever be back to normal, or is this it?

And so on. Even knowing you aren’t alone doesn’t help much.

Finally, the elephant in the room question: “How do I trust God in all of this?”

Ancient script addresses this. Thanks, Paul. Here’s a classic familiar passage, but it sure merits revisiting. Pretend like you’ve never heard this before. It’s Philippians 4:6 – 8:

6 Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. 7 And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. 8 Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.

Right? Is that the cure for your fear of surrender?

There’s your pattern, your plan. Pray like there’s no tomorrow. Pray hard. Be specific. Holler if you need to. And then – focus your heart and pour it out in praise.

Here’s Dr. Tony’s prescription:

1. Write out your prayers. Code them in some fashion if you don’t want anyone to snoop. But write them down. This little exercise gets the snakes out of your head and onto paper, where they can be addressed. Do this. No excuses, okay?
2. Don’t sugarcoat anything. This isn’t a time for you to try to convince God of your spirituality. If you’re a holy wimp, that’s okay. Give yourself permission to be weak. Be transparent. It’s not like you’re trying to convince God you’re someone you aren’t.
3. Shift to praise. If you just can’t muster up enough strength to praise spontaneously, crack open your Bible and read some Psalms. Aloud, if you can. Here’s 10 of my favorites:
   1. Psalm 136
   2. Psalm 117
   3. Psalm 100
   4. Psalm 139
   5. Psalm 42
   6. Psalm 56
   7. Psalm 23
   8. Psalm 27
   9. Psalm 37
   10. Psalm 145
4. You’ll see in some of these Psalms where the psalmist says some pretty dark things before moving on to praise. I think there’s a replicable pattern there.
5. Lather, rinse, repeat.

In the spirit of keeping it real, I affirm that these days are just crazy scary. There is that fear of surrender in the mix.

The mandate, though, is to surrender. You are, in effect, giving up your rights to yourself and letting God possess and own you.

That’s some sweet surrender right there.

Be well.

Question: What is the single biggest obstacle that would keep you from totally offering yourself to God, to allow Him to do what He wishes in your life? Leave comments below. And if you’ve found any value in this post, please share it by using the social media links on the left.

Note: This is a reprint of a blog I wrote several months ago. I felt that it was worth sharing again. It applies to all sorts of life events. Be blessed.

The indifference of God. Maybe you know what I’m talking about.

If you’re a believer, you’ve been taught that God cares for you. You’ve experienced that care, perhaps.

There have been times when I’ve rested in the arms of Jesus. Storms wail, waves crash, darkness looms, and yet I feel perfectly safe. He’s got me, in other words.

Other times, it’s as though I’ve hung on for dear life. It’s like walking to the edge of the abyss, peeking over, and knowing that one misstep is certain death.

I was taught that I would never walk alone. What about those times when you don’t sense His presence at all? And before you climb up on your spiritual high horse and try to convince me that you’ve always known He’s there, I will tell you that part of your spiritual growth process is to experience the silence of God.

This is nothing new.

If you want to take this thought to its extreme manifestation, consider Jesus’ words from the cross:

“My God! My God! Why have you forsaken me?”

Jesus experienced silence. His Father God was nowhere to be found.

How are we to respond to God’s silence? Is the indifference of God even a thing?

It is not. But that’s not to say that we should interpret God’s silence as His indifference.

In the bleakest of moments, you might have said to yourself, “No one cares.” The companion thought is, “No one understands.”

These are actual possibilities, I’m sorry to say. It’s unlikely, but there are people who genuinely don’t have anyone that cares about them. And to say “no one understands” is to some degree true of all of us. No one is going to completely “get” you because they aren’t you. If you don’t always understand your thoughts and actions, it’s not likely anyone else is, either.

My Sunday School diploma gives me the authority to say this: God cares. God understands.

Don’t blow that off as simplistic or just a t-shirt slogan. I don’t think the issue is believing those statements – the problem comes in making them a reality in your life.

What can you do, then? When God is silent, are there steps you can take to assure yourself that He is indeed there and is continually present?

Try these:

1. Understand that the silence of God is not the indifference of God. God, by His nature, cannot be indifferent. He is intimately involved in every aspect of your life.
2. If you’re wondering if God cares, let me direct you toward the Cross. That’s proof aplenty.
3. God routinely takes us to places of desperation. I’d be presumptuous to try to explain why. I think it has everything to do with our personal growth and maturity in Christ. He leaves us to our own desires, and we wander far afield. Like the prodigal in the far country, He engineers circumstances to take us to a place of hopelessness. If we’re reasonably intelligent, self-inflicted hopelessness should point us to repentance. Repentance leads to restoration.
4. Part of God’s strategy with us is when He seals up the heavens and you not only don’t “hear” from Him through scripture or prayer, you can’t even tell if He’s around.
5. This is much, much different from the human “silent treatment.” That passive-aggressive tactic is deployed to make someone feel guilty or unworthy. That’s not how God rolls. Quite the opposite.
6. God’s silence is intended to move us to a place of longing. We experience a leanness in our souls. We move into a place on dependence on Him. You don’t take Him for granted anymore.
7. When the time is right – and He determines the time – He’ll break through. It’s incumbent on us to put ourselves in a place where we can hear and discern clearly.
8. Just because you can’t feel His presence is no evidence that He isn’t there. Feelings are great betrayers. Don’t base your relationship with God on how you feel.

Can you trust Him no matter what?

It’s easy to trust God when the bush is burning and you hear His voice. You can easily trust Him when the waters part before you and you can cross safely on dry land. It’s those times of silence that are disturbing.

Guess what? You are not exempt from God’s silence.

If silence serves His purposes and causes you to yearn for Him, you can count on Him to be very, very quiet.

It’s easy for me to say “hang on.” It’s much tougher to have to be the one who’s hanging. I believe your best strategy is to acknowledge that we all experience those times of silence, from the weakest believer to to the strongest saint. God trusts you enough to let you experience His silence. There is no such thing as the indifference of God. When He refuses to speak, take comfort in knowing He’s up to something big. He is going to grow you in a totally unexpected fashion.

Go with that. He’ll never leave you or forsake you.

The coronavirus, aka COVID-19, is well upon us. I’m hesitant to add my voice to all the racket, but I need to unburden myself concerning the coronavirus reality. I don’t know if I have anything new to add, but here ya go. The picture I shared is an actual unstaged photo I took Thursday at  the Walmart in Flowood, Mississippi. It’s as eloquent as a still-life.

We are capable of greatness.

1. The coronavirus reality is that some politicians and their minions are using it to score points against their enemies. I find that sleazy and low. This is not a great time for people to make accusations about what should have been done. We can’t go back for a do-over on this one. We can make wise, measured, decisions going forward, but being snarky isn’t a solution. It divides us even more. That needs to quit. We need some grownups to handle this one.
2. I’m in a high risk category, they tell me. The coronavirus reality is that I need to be prudent, as do other people my age. I’m not diabetic, I don’t have heart disease, or any of those other nasty ailments. I’ll do what I need to to avoid getting sick. If I get sick, I’ll try to get well. And I will get well, either here or in eternity. I prefer the first option, but I’m at peace with the second.
3. This may be a fool’s wish, but historically Americans have shown themselves to be a resilient group. I know I have readers in other countries, and I’m not devaluing them. I’m just speaking to what I know. We have pulled together during the most challenging days before, and have done it in record time. What a divided country we live in! Wouldn’t it be something that part of the coronavirus reality might be that we genuinely cooperate and come together to fight a common enemy. I saw flashes of that immediately after 9/11. We are capable of greatness. What happens in the next few weeks will be teach a lot about who we are.
4. There are plenty of people out there smarter than you working on this. Experts can be wrong, but I’d rather listen to a flawed expert than an assured idiot. The coronavirus reality is that, as laypeople, we don’t have all the answers because we don’t have access to all the intelligence.
5. There is a huge spiritual component in the coronavirus reality. I’ll state the obvious: God’s got this. He is not wringing His omnipotent hands. He will most assuredly use this in a manner that suits Him. Folks are panicked, worldwide. Balk if you must, but for the believer, there is no reason to be anxious. Concerned and vigilant, of course. But mindless fret? Nope. God controls every germ, virus, molecule, and atom. God has sovereign control over all of creation.
6. This is a great opportunity to display peace, hope, and simple sanity. The coronavirus reality is that those virtues are going to be in short supply in days to come. Don’t go there. Be more than that.
7. Pray, and pray without ceasing. Mike Pence was flayed in the media for praying with a group over the coronavirus reality. I’m glad he prayed. I’m glad when we all pray. Praying that you can be a source of hope and comfort to others wouldn’t be a bad place to start. Remember, too, that health care professionals are good at what they do. All healing ultimately comes from God, the Great Physician, but He uses human agents for healing to take place.
8. Don’t be afraid to laugh. I am not, not, not making light of the seriousness of this disease. But there is humor in the darkest circumstances. I’ve seen plenty of really clever memes in the last several days. If I ignore the ones in poor taste, there’s a lot that are darn funny. If you’re offended, just move on. (And before someone stuffs my inbox with comments like “Would you think it’s funny if one of your loved ones died?”, I’d think, dude, you aren’t very bright to even ask that, trying to get a “gotcha” agains me – of course it wouldn’t be funny). But there are plenty of things about toilet paper that crack me up. Humor, and especially satire, is in the eyes of the beholder. So let’s go easy on each other – we all cope in different ways. Laughing at absurdity, whether I see it in someone else or myself, works for me.

I’d rather listen to a flawed expert than an assured idiot.

I’ll wrap this by sharing a quote from one of my heroes, C. S. Lewis. These are C. S. Lewis’s words—written 72 years ago—and it rings  with some relevance for us. Just replace “atomic bomb” with “coronavirus.” It’s all part of the coronavirus reality.

In one way we think a great deal too much of the atomic bomb. “How are we to live in an atomic age?” I am tempted to reply: “Why, as you would have lived in the sixteenth century when the plague visited London almost every year, or as you would have lived in a Viking age when raiders from Scandinavia might land and cut your throat any night; or indeed, as you are already living in an age of cancer, an age of syphilis, an age of paralysis, an age of air raids, an age of railway accidents, an age of motor accidents.”

In other words, do not let us begin by exaggerating the novelty of our situation. Believe me, dear sir or madam, you and all whom you love were already sentenced to death before the atomic bomb was invented: and quite a high percentage of us were going to die in unpleasant ways. We had, indeed, one very great advantage over our ancestors—anesthetics; but we have that still. It is perfectly ridiculous to go about whimpering and drawing long faces because the scientists have added one more chance of painful and premature death to a world which already bristled with such chances and in which death itself was not a chance at all, but a certainty.

This is the first point to be made: and the first action to be taken is to pull ourselves together. If we are all going to be destroyed by an atomic bomb, let that bomb when it comes find us doing sensible and human things—praying, working, teaching, reading, listening to music, bathing the children, playing tennis, chatting to our friends over a pint and a game of darts—not huddled together like frightened sheep and thinking about bombs. They may break our bodies (a microbe can do that) but they need not dominate our minds.

— “On Living in an Atomic Age” (1948) in Present Concerns: Journalistic Essays