There’s an old saying that goes, “To err is human, to forgive, divine.” But we all know the real truth is, “To err is human, to pretend it never happened, even more human.” Unfortunately, Google hasn’t quite figured out how to erase our blunders from the memory of the universe. So, when you’ve really done something monumentally dumb, how do you recover? Don’t worry, even if you’ve successfully recreated the parting of the Red Sea in your kitchen or proven gravity’s existence with your new phone and a concrete floor, there’s hope.

Firstly, let’s address the elephant in the room. You’ve messed up. Congrats! You’ve officially joined the human race. Every Christian worth his or her salt knows that we’re not perfect beings. Remember Adam and Eve? They had one job, one rule. Yet, they still managed to drop the ball… or should I say, eat the forbidden fruit? But remember, it’s not about how we fall, but how we get up that matters.

Next, after messing up, we tend to panic. This typically involves a complex dance routine where we flail around wildly, knocking over anything within a five-foot radius, including dignity. Take a deep breath. Calm down. Remember, Jesus was known to calm storms, and I’m pretty sure he can handle your little weather system of chaos. Pause, pray, and remember to breathe. You’ve survived 100% of your worst days so far. This one won’t be the exception.

Then comes confession time. Don’t worry, this isn’t about baring your soul to everyone on Facebook, but about taking responsibility. Remember when King David took a nose-dive off the moral high dive and tried to hide it? Yeah, that didn’t go so well. So, own up to your mistake, apologize if necessary, and learn from it. After all, God loves a humble heart, and owning your mistake is a step towards humility.

Now that you’ve owned up to your blooper, it’s time to mop up the mess, even if that means literally getting a mop. Taking action not only helps rectify the situation but also demonstrates your commitment to righting the wrong. Remember, faith without works is dead. So, don your superhero cape (or apron) and dive into the action.

Afterwards, remember that everyone has messed up, and most likely in more spectacular ways than you. Peter, the rock upon which Christ built his Church, had quite the impressive goof-up portfolio. He denied knowing Christ not once, not twice, but three times! Yet, he bounced back and became one of the greatest apostles. The point is, we all make mistakes, so cut yourself some slack.

Finally, find the humor in your situation. Laughter is the best medicine, and a bit of self-deprecating humor can defuse even the most disastrous blunders. Proverbs 17:22 says, “A cheerful heart is good medicine.” So, why not apply that medicine to your self-inflicted wounds?

As you navigate through the minefield of your monumental mess-ups, remember that you’re not alone. We serve a God of second chances (and third, and fourth…). He specializes in turning messes into messages and tests into testimonies. He took Peter’s denials and turned them into devotion, Paul’s persecution into proclamation, and He can take your blunders and turn them into blessings.

Messing up might feel like the end of the world, but it’s not. It’s simply an opportunity to learn, grow, and become a better version of ourselves. After all, some of our best stories come from our worst mistakes. Remember, we are all clay in the hands of the Master Potter. Sometimes, He has to remold us a few times before we come out just right. So, the next time you do something dumb, take a deep breath, pray, and prepare for your divine redo. It might just be the start of an amazing transformation.

Forgiving God may seem like an unusual concept in Christian theology. After all, isn’t God, who is perfect and sinless, the one who forgives us? However, when we feel anger, pain, or disappointment due to perceived unfairness in life, the process of ‘forgiving’ God can help us release negative emotions and realign our hearts with Him.

This blog grew out of a conversation I had just last night. I heard about a young lady who lost her mother, went through multiple pregnancies and abortions, substance abuse, the whole nine yards. Her attitude toward God was “why?” She blamed God for her mother’s death, and by inference blamed Him from everything else that was wrong. (She’s healed and whole now, so there is a very happy ending.)

Understandably, life often presents us with circumstances that appear unjust or unexplainable. In such instances, you might find yourself angry with God. Key point – it’s crucial to remember that God doesn’t need our forgiveness in the literal sense because He never sins or makes mistakes. Instead, when we talk about forgiving God, it’s about acknowledging our feelings of anger or betrayal, processing these emotions, and then releasing them, allowing ourselves to trust in God’s goodness and sovereignty once again.

When our expectations collide with reality, disappointment is a natural reaction. Often, this disappointment is directed towards people around us – loved ones, colleagues, or friends. But, at times, we might even feel disappointed with God, the omnipotent figure who, in our understanding, holds our lives in His hands. If you’re wrestling with these feelings, you’re not alone. Disappointment with God is a shared human experience and requires a compassionate, introspective, and grace-filled response.

It’s about adjusting our perspective, understanding that God’s wisdom transcends our human comprehension. Isaiah 55:8-9 says, “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,” declares the LORD. “As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.” God operates on a divine timeline and with an eternal perspective that we, as finite beings, can’t fully grasp.

So. How do we unpack all this? It’s heavy stuff, but I think there are some answers.

Firstly, it’s important to acknowledge that it’s okay to feel disappointed.

Christianity is not a faith of stoicism or indifference. Throughout the Bible, we encounter many instances of God’s people wrestling with feelings of disappointment, doubt, and despair. Job questioned God in his suffering, and David cried out in Psalms: “Why, O Lord, do you stand far away? Why do you hide yourself in times of trouble?” (Psalm 10:1). Even Jesus on the cross cried out, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Matthew 27:46).

Feelings of disappointment with God are not indicators of weak faith; rather, they are evidence of an engaged, authentic relationship with God. Like any relationship, our bond with God involves emotional peaks and valleys. The key is to remember that it’s not about eliminating our feelings but understanding them.

Secondly, it’s crucial to bring your feelings to God.

God is a loving Father who cares deeply about your experiences, including your disappointments. Talk to Him, express your feelings, ask hard questions, just as David and Job did. It may seem counterintuitive, but sharing your disappointment with God is an act of trust. It means you believe He cares for you and understands your pain.

Next, let’s lean into His Word.

The Bible offers a vast array of perspectives on dealing with disappointment. There is the ever helpful Romans 8:28. Paul writes: “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” This verse is not a dismissal of our disappointment but a reminder that God’s perspective is eternal. Our present disappointments may be part of a larger plan we can’t yet perceive.

It’s also necessary to adjust our expectations.

God is not a genie to grant our every wish but a wise Father who knows what’s best for us. Some folks choke on this. Often, our disappointments stem from unmet expectations, which can sometimes be misguided. Another classic, Proverbs 3:5-6 advises, “Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight.” Letting go of our need to control outcomes can alleviate disappointment.

Finally, don’t hesitate to seek support from your Christian community.

Share your feelings with a trusted friend, pastor, or mentor. These individuals can provide you with perspective, comfort, and wisdom.

Remember, God’s love is steadfast, His plans are good, and His mercy is new every morning. Feeling disappointed with God doesn’t mean He has failed you. Instead, it’s an invitation to deepen your relationship with Him, to explore your faith more deeply, and to seek His comforting presence in your disappointment.

When we ‘forgive’ God, we’re not pardoning Him for a wrong He’s done. Instead, we’re acknowledging that our understanding is limited, and we’re choosing to trust Him. We are surrendering our perceived right to question His wisdom and fairness. In doing this, we open ourselves to His healing touch and restore our faith in His infinite wisdom and boundless love.

This journey of ‘forgiveness’ is not always easy and might require patience, prayer, and spiritual guidance. In these moments, remember Paul’s words in 2 Corinthians 12:9: “But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore, I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.”

So, take heart. Your disappointment doesn’t disqualify you from God’s love; it draws you closer to His heart. Remember to engage honestly with your feelings, communicate openly with God, immerse yourself in His Word, align your expectations with His wisdom, and lean on your Christian community. In this journey, you will discover that even in disappointment, there’s a gift – the gift of God’s grace.

So, when we find ourselves wrestling with the concept of forgiving God, it’s not about finding fault in Him but about realigning our hearts with His. It’s a step towards healing, acceptance, and a deeper understanding of His unending grace.

Today, you are about to embark on a deep and profound journey. It’s about a place most of us have been to – some of us more than once. It’s a messy place, filled with confusion, hurt, anger, regret, but also hope and growth. It’s the rocky terrain of broken relationships. This journey is not just about the heartache, but also about the redemption that comes after – forgiveness, reconciliation, and healing. And from our Christian faith, we know that with God, all things are possible.

Broken relationships are an unfortunate but real part of life. They can leave you feeling lost, shattered, and questioning your own self-worth. As we navigate through these feelings, it’s essential to remember that hope is never entirely lost, even in the darkest times. It’s never too late to start the process of healing and restoration. That’s where your journey begins.

And … we’re off. This is good stuff. It will help you. 

The Reality of Brokenness and The Hope in Christ

Relationships, like anything in this world, can fracture due to a variety of reasons – misunderstandings, betrayals, unmet expectations, or simply drifting apart. In these moments of heartache, it’s crucial to remember the message of Romans 8:28: 

“And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.”

No matter how grim or hopeless a situation may seem, God’s love and grace are always at work. Even in the valleys of despair, He is molding you, teaching you, and preparing you for better days.

Each situation is unique, but a common theme is the lack of communication and understanding. We’ve all been there, haven’t we? The conversations that never happened, the words left unsaid, the feelings left unexpressed – they all contribute to the breaking point.

Bummer.

The Path to Forgiveness

It’s time to pick up that first piece – Forgiveness. Now, this is a big one. I can almost hear you saying “Easier said than done!” And you’re right. Forgiveness isn’t about forgetting or condoning the hurt caused. It’s about freeing yourself from the hold that the past has on you. It’s about choosing to not let past hurts dictate your present or future. It’s not an event, it’s a process. But let’s remember, as followers of Christ, forgiveness is not optional; it’s a calling. Matthew 18:21-22 says, 

“Then Peter came to Jesus and asked, ‘Lord, how many times shall I forgive my brother or sister who sins against me? Up to seven times?’ Jesus answered, ‘I tell you, not seven times, but seventy-seven times.'”

Forgiveness does not erase the pain or condone the wrong, but it does break the chains of bitterness and resentment. It frees us from the prison of past hurts and allows you to move forward.

Read that last paragraph again. 

Reconciliation: The Bridge to Restored Relationships

Reconciliation is not always possible or even the best route in every situation. I’m mindful of what was once a great relationship I had with someone which just doesn’t seem to be salvageable. Man, that hurts.  But when it is possible, it’s like the bridge connecting two lands that were torn apart.

Remember, reconciliation isn’t about sweeping things under the rug. It’s about bringing issues to the surface, addressing them, and resolving them together. It’s about rebuilding trust, mending communication, and renewing the connection. It’s about acknowledging the past without being anchored to it. It’s a brave choice that requires a lot of courage, understanding, and patience.

Reconciliation, when possible and appropriate, is a beautiful testament to God’s transformative power in our relationships. 2 Corinthians 5:18-19 teaches us, 

“All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ and gave us the ministry of reconciliation: that God was reconciling the world to himself in Christ, not counting people’s sins against them.”

Reconciliation isn’t about ignoring past hurts, but rather, it’s about confronting them with grace, love, and humility. It requires honest communication, genuine repentance, and the rebuilding of trust.

Healing: Growth from the Ashes

Finally, we come to healing – the green shoots of hope sprouting from the ashes of a broken relationship. Healing, like forgiveness, is a process, not a destination. It’s the new dawn following the darkest of nights

Psalms 147:3 tells us, 

“He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.” 

Healing may mean moving forward from a relationship that was beyond repair, or it may mean building a stronger, more understanding bond out of the fragments of a broken relationship. Either way, healing involves self-love, acceptance, and growth.

A key part of healing is recognizing the growth that comes from pain. Remember, you’re not the same person who started this journey. You’ve grown, you’ve learned, and you’ve become stronger.

James 1:2-4 encourages us,

“Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.”

The Promise of Hope

Relationships can break, and it can be devastating. But within that devastation lies the seed of hope. Hope for forgiveness, for reconciliation, and for healing. It’s not an easy journey, but it is one worth taking. It’s a journey of self-discovery, growth, and ultimately, of love.

In your journey, remember, you are not alone. You are surrounded by a community that supports you and walks with you, and above all, you are cherished by a God who turns your trials into triumphs.

So, pilgrim, even in the midst of the storm of a broken relationship, remember, there is always hope. You can find the strength to move forward. This process, albeit challenging, brings you closer to God, allows you to grow in His grace, and reminds you of the unfailing love and mercy of our Creator.

Stay blessed, and keep hope alive!

We are all broken in some fashion, aren’t we? And brokenness can manifest itself in broken relationships.

This is a theme I tend to return to often, Broken relationships are just excruciating. Let’s suss this out, and let me see if we can get some guidance here.

You know where I’m coming from, right? And the fact is there are two sides to this particular coin, and we’ve hurt others just as much as they’ve hurt us.

There are broken people living with broken people in a broken world, and that leads to even more brokenness.

We don’t understand how much power we hold to cut down, wound, and affect the hearts of other people. We can be devastated by others. 

Here’s what I’m talking about. Can you relate?

Psalm 55:12-14, 19b-21

“It is not an enemy who taunts me-

I could bear that.

It is not my foes who so arrogantly insult me-

I could have hidden from them.

Instead, it is you- my equal,

My companion and close friend.

What good fellowship we once enjoyed 

As we walked together to the house of God…

..My enemies refuse to change their ways;

They do not fear God.

As for my companion, he betrayed his friends;

He broke his promises.

His words are as smooth as butter,

But in his heart is war.

His words are as soothing as lotion,

But underneath are daggers!”

Yikes. Can you think of a time when someone close to you hurt you? Did you feel broken after this?

So.

What can we do when we’re hurt by others?

Redemption is a root theme of scripture. It’s God’s role to take broken things and put them back together, and this includes relationships. It’s a cooperative effort; He’ll do His part, but we can’t be passive. Every hurtful situation is unique to the parties involved, and reconciliation is easier in some scenarios than others. Still, I believe there are some principles at work.

1.  Healing from brokenness is God’s gift.

This is God’s role, and healing always comes from Him and no one else. If you’ve been hurt, then the person who hurt you can’t fix you. And if you’ve hurt someone else, you don’t have the power to heal them. Our role is to tear down all the barriers of pain and resentment we put in the other person’s path, and then step back and let God fix what is broken.

2.  God’s goal  is to bring beauty out of every brokenness.

You may have been the wounded, or you may have inflicted the wounds. Be comforted knowing God is the redeemer in all things, and He’ll bring beauty out of brokenness we cause or experience. This is the only hope in a world where we as people hurt others, and they end up broken.

3.  Jesus heals.

Christ cares when people are broken and hurt by others. God hasn’t made all things new yet. Ultimately, He will. At the cross, he took action against our brokenness, He brings beauty out of brokenness now, and He will ultimately redeem relational brokenness forever.

4. Pray before taking any action.

This should be self-evident, but if you’re broken, this is a step in restoration. Remember you can’t fix this. So you have to ask for wisdom, patience, and love. Invite God to do what you can’t.

5. Don’t put off apologizing.

No apology, no reconciliation. Simple, right? But don’t put it off. Rather than wait for the other person to make the first move, jump in. It takes two people to mess up a relationship, but three to mend what is broken – that’s what God does. Insisting you didn’t do anything wrong leads to hurt and resistance, so you have to be vulnerable. Own your actions.

6.  Forgive the other person.

You have great power. The power to forgive! Lots of times, being broken comes from a past wound that one or more people created, and while that wound festers, there can be no restoration. Forgiveness, then, needs to be at the front end in order to deal with brokenness.

7.  Listen carefully, talk caringly.

So much of being in a broken relationship comes from us not really listening to them and striving to understand them. Listen, and don’t sit there rehearsing what you want to say when they take a breath. And, you for sure want to watch the words you say and how to say them.

8. Admit your own failings.

Being broken means acknowledging sometimes you can break yourself. This is a companion thought to Number 5 above. Instead of trying to win another argument, check out James 5:16 and confess any sins you’ve committed against that person. Take responsibility for what has happened.

9. Pursue peace.

There is a real chance you might never see eye-to-eye with the other person. You may not get the closure you want. That’s okay, because remember – it isn’t about winning! It’s a matter of realizing you both are broken, and you want to work on that relationship so it can be restored.

10. Know that, in some cases, the most necessary thing is to just walk away.

I hate this. There are some relationships that are so broken that even after prayer, pleas for forgiveness, and doing all you know to do for restoration, there may be some barriers that can’t be broken down by human hands. At that point, it’s time to step back and ask God to step in and be God. This isn’t a move to be taken lightly, because it might be perceived as a fresh wound. Again, God’s got this, and you can be at peace knowing you’ve done what you needed to do.

One thing for sure: If you are a believer, God works all the events of this life together for good. That means that nothing, and I mean nothing you do or that is done to you is irredeemable. God wants to bring beauty from your relational pain and brokenness and use it to sanctify you and bring about healing from being broken.

O be joyful.

Talk soon!

Love all, serve all, be mistreated. My goodness. There’s all sorts of irony in the title of this blog.

When I cobble these posts together, I purposefully try to be as broad as I can for people all along the faith spectrum. Most of the time, I’m writing what I want to hear for myself. I just kind of let you sit in.

Today, though, I am more in the camp of believers, Christians.

If you are a Christian, how well do you love? Do you love all? And what if you’re mistreated?

You know I’m not talking about love in the sense of romantic love, or even love among friends and family. I’m not even talking about self-love, which is a big deal.

Nope – I’m talking about supernatural, God-ordained love.

That kind of love operates separate from feelings. It’s a love that is actually an act of the will. It’s a love that can’t be self-generated. It has to come from another source outside ourselves.

Because, y’know, in and of ourselves I simply don’t think we have the capacity for that kind of love, even though we’re to love all. 

Here’s my autobiographical note: This actually comes easy for me. It’s a capacity for love that God just has seen fit to give me, and I’m grateful for that. I can say without hesitation that, to the best of my knowledge and heart, I love everyone.

Which is NOT to say that I care to keep company with everyone. There are some people I’d just as soon see going as coming.

And, of course, there have been people who’ve hurt me. Maybe I’ve been mistreated.

What’s your response to that? Unless you’re a hermit (and some days that seems appealing – like my friend Becky Brown noted, “I could easily be a hermit, but God won’t let me”), you have had someone – or maybe multiple someone’s – wound your soul.

You’re gonna have to look hard to find benefit in that, right?

The benefit comes in how you respond to being mistreated.

Talk about self-revelatory! Hurt can teach you an awful lot about yourself.

So. Are you a grudge holder? Do you erupt in Jovian anger? Do you retreat just to sulk and brood? How about plotting revenge? Is that you?

Well, how about this in response to hurt: be kind. Love all.

Stay with me here, because I’m not being patronizing.

I will tell you that the world may not look favorably on you if your response to being mistreated is to be kind. That’s not the way things work, right?

Some of the kindest Christians I know have lived in a world that wasn’t so kind to them.

That is so intriguing. Not only does it fly in the face of conventional wisdom, it doesn’t even really make sense. That is not a typical response.

Yet there are those who have been through so much at the hands of others, and they love deeply. They still care.

Are there steps one can take to reach that state? Can you really love all? Even if others mistreated you?

I’m not sure. You don’t find it in our sinful, carnal nature. It has to come from a different place. I dunno. Some people relish unforgiveness. I’ve never known of a time when forgiveness was anything other than a virtue.

In giving this a lot of thought over the years – the reason why people choose not to forgive – I have come up with a handful of “why’s,” possible reasons why people cling to this unique misery of unforgiveness.

• They don’t understand mercy. Mercy is one of the most divine of all traits. We are simply thunderstruck by Jesus’ words from the Cross – “Father, forgive them, because they don’t know what they’re doing.” That’s mercy, right there, all encapsulated in a magnificent example of forgiveness.
• They prefer a hard heart to a tender one. Perhaps being tender hearted is viewed as weakness. I’d suggest that it’s a whole lot more courageous to be tenderhearted than it is to take a hard line.
• We are fallen people who live in a fallen world. It’s hard to to be kind when the whole of civilization seems to want us to be harsh and inappropriately aggressive. I see so much hatefulness everywhere I turn. This is not, nor will ever be, a “political” blog, but given the current state of things … I mean. Mama said “if you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all.” Looking back, that might be a lot more wise (or certainly more kind) than I used to believe. What a toxic world! And don’t come at me with a statement like, “Jesus was controversial. Jesus was harsh. Jesus turned over tables and ran people out of the table.” C’mon, now. Really? Of course He did. But when your (or my) motivations are the same as Jesus’, we can use His tactics. Otherwise, it’s best that we stand down. This culture of outrage we have embraced doesn’t seem to help – all it does is make folks on the same side of an issue feel good (or empowered) about themselves. I don’t see many converts coming from rage.
• It’s simply easier to hold a grudge. It takes no effort. It feels good for a season. It makes you feel mighty and self-righteous. It feeds into that nature that says, “I’ll show you. I’m gonna hurt you back. And when I hurt you back, that’s gonna make me feel really, really good.”

“I can’t forgive,” you say. “I can’t be kind to him/her/them. They mistreated me.”

Here’s my bottom line for the day:

Sometimes, it’s the Christians who have been mistreated the most who refuse to be hardened in this world, because they would never want to make another person feel the same way they themselves have felt.

If that’s not something to be in awe of, I don’t know what it is. Love all.

Talk later.

“I’m sorry.” Do those words ever stick in your craw?

I was chatting with a friend a while back, and he told me that he’d never heard his father say “I’m sorry.” I’ve thought a lot about that since then, because I’ve learned that this isn’t an isolated incident.

In the case of my friend’s father, it looks like a generational thing. Perhaps there was a time in our history when saying “I’m sorry” undermined authority.

Those of you of a certain age might remember the book and movie, Love Story. The catchphrase from that was “love means never having to say you’re sorry.” Well, who the heck came up with that? I know that in our househ0ld I have to continually apologize because, well, on some days I’m an insensitive idiot.

With our grandkids, I see brawls break out randomly. It’s usually toy related. You know, “What’s mine is mine, and what’s yours is mine.”

We are spared from day-to-day discipline with those kiddos. Which is fine. We put in our time with their parents. But one thing I hoped we were able to do was teach them to apologize to each other.

I’m sorry. I’ll put that right up there alongside “please” and “thank you.”

Flash forward. Is saying “I’m sorry” a skill you have? Or is that annoying and useless?

Look. I’m not advocating “peace at any price.” While I tend to go along to get along, that’s not the same thing as humility. It’s saying, “well, dang. I was wrong. I’m sorry.”

That gives you a great deal of power, simply because you’ve taken the higher ground.

Diving deeper, is there anything you absolutely couldn’t apologize for? What is that? And I’m not getting into the issue of unrestricted forgiveness – that’s another blog. Actually, I think I’ve addressed that plenty of times.

It seems there might be a genuine art to apologizing, to saying “I’m sorry” and meaning it.

Here’s three steps to apologizing:

1. Humble yourself and confess up – you’ve hurt another human being. There are times when we unintentionally hurt others, but what I mean here is when you act with the intent to wound. Question – what in the name of perdition would make you want to do that? Who wins in that scenario? There’s an argument that it might make you feel better to be cruel and vindictive, but life experience has also taught us that that to live in that state corrupts your soul. Long term, you feel lousy. As that great theologian Elvis Presley sang, “Don’t be cruel.” Whether you hurt someone physically or with words and actions, recognize you’ve wounded someone.
2. Tell – using words! – the person you’ve hurt that you understand what you did was wrong. You’ve seen this – maybe even experienced it: Something along the lines of “tell your sister you’re sorry.” And the other sibling mumbles “I’m sorry” with absolutely no sincerity or acknowledgement. I’m not so sure that this doesn’t happen with adults. You apologize, you say “I’m sorry,” but there is a total disengagement between lips and heart. The key is to genuinely understand what you’ve done and what motivated it. That calls for some self-awareness and a real gut check. Do it anyway.
3. Lean into the apology. Apologize. Mean it. Say “I’m sorry.” Hug it out, if that’s appropriate. And – a biggie! – move on. It’s rear view mirror stuff from there on. Nursing a grudge, brooding over past slights, and looking for an excuse to be mean again – that’s not gonna move the moral needle in your life.

Want to be eternally angry and bitter? Never say “I’m sorry” and mean it.

There’s a basic principle here that needs to come into play. It’s simply to keep short accounts. That will make you strong.  It’ll help you build strong relationships, in families and other relationships. Once a wrong has been committed, apologize as soon as possible. Don’t let it fester.

If you’re a parent and you’ve hurt your kid in some way – maybe by not listening to them, losing your patience, yelling at them – say “I’m sorry.” You are not an infallible parent. Your kids know that anyway. It’s not going to undermine your authority. If anything, it’ll give real credibility because you’ve demonstrated you really care.

If you’re a kid, it’s the same thing. Going for that “gotcha!” with your mama or daddy isn’t going to make things any better. You blew it. It happens. Acknowledge that, say “I’m sorry,” and move on.

Move on. That causes relational miracles.

These little principles work with other relationships, too. In dealing with your friends, do the same thing. And if you want to go really audacious, apologize to your boss for being mouthy. Or if you’re a boss, tell your employee “I’m sorry” when you’ve mishandled him or her in some way. It’s easy enough to say “it’s not personal, it’s business.” Well, friend, it is personal whether we want it to be or not. Act accordingly.

So keep those short accounts. Even when you don’t want to apologize and say “I’m sorry,” show some backbone. Have the strength and courage to humble yourself and admit you messed up.

It’s Matthew 5:25, right?

Settle matters quickly with your adversaries.

You’ll feel better. Promise.

Talk soon!

I don’t know if you’ve ever given any thought to our hard hearts, but I’m sensing that, as a whole, we’re a lot less compassionate than we used to be.

Mean, even.

God seems to treat people very differently.

That’s problematic, isn’t it? If God is fair and just, shouldn’t we all find favor? Do our hard hearts come from God or from within ourselves?

I’m a novice at theology, and I’m really hesitant about saying things that aren’t sound. But I’ll take a swipe at this anyway, because I think it’ll help you.

First, some background.

This past weekend we kept our grandkids, Katherine and Levi. Katherine’s four. Levi’s two. We love them so so much, but they can make you tired.

Katherine was looking at the account of Moses and the Ten Commandments in a little illustrated Bible. She was intrigued. So, in the interest of broadening her horizons, I decided to show her a movie version of the story. We ended up watching parts of three of them.

We started out with the 1956 Cecil B. DeMille version of The Ten Commandments starring Charlton Heston. Big, loud, splashy, and reverential. And some killer dialogue; at one point, Nefertiti says to Moses, “Oh Moses, Moses, you stubborn, splendid, adorable fool!” You just can’t get any better than that.

Then we watched the appropriate section of The Bible, the miniseries from 2013 produced by Roma Downey and Mark Burnett. It was certainly more gritty, and the parting of the Red Sea looked terrific.

We wrapped up our session with The Prince of Egypt, the animated version from 1998. To me, it’s the best of the bunch. It’s some potent stuff.

Katherine had tons of questions, but she fixated on Pharaoh. (She’s always partial to villains in movies – she has this thing about Darth Vader, for instance.)

So I tried to explain the whole Israelites being slaves, Moses being sent to deliver them, and Pharaoh saying, uh-uh, nope.

This was an interesting conversation with a four-year-old.

I don’t know if she picked up on the nuances of the story, but she did understand who the good guys and bad guys were. And she was all about the parting of the Red Sea.

What we didn’t get into was the whole business of Pharaoh being so bad.

That’s not a bad question – why does God harden some people’s hearts? More specifically, is He responsible for our hard hearts?

Ancient script says this, in Exodus 11:3:

The Lord made the Egyptians favorably disposed toward the people, and Moses himself was highly regarded in Egypt by Pharaoh’s officials and by the people. (Emphasis mine.)

On the other hand, here’s this, found in Exodus 10:27 and 11:10:

²⁷ But the Lord hardened Pharaoh’s heart, and he was not willing to let them go.

¹⁰ Moses and Aaron performed all these wonders before Pharaoh, but the Lord hardened Pharaoh’s heart, and he would not let the Israelites go out of his country.

So. There’s that. But what does that have to do with our hard hearts?

There’s no question that this is a mystery.

Why the difference? I’d say, on one hand, only God knows. I have to be at peace with that. Paul says, in Romans 9:18, God has mercy on whom He wants to have mercy, and he hardens whom He wants to harden. 

Yowza.

But back to Exodus: from our limited human view, there are all sorts of reasons in the differences between the Egyptians and Pharaoh. Pharaoh enslaved the Israelites because they were free labor and he could do with them as he pleased. The Egyptians were likely to be more sympathetic. So there are some human factors at work.

That’s not a totally satisfactory view, though.

Making it personal, and in attempting to understand our hard hearts, check this out.

We really don’t know where our deepest feelings come from, do we? Think about it: we are all full of motivations, desires, prejudices, and preferences. Are those due to genetics? Biochemistry? Environment? There isn’t much we can do about those. Or – big one! – are they consciously chosen? Do we decide to engineer our own hard hearts? Is that out of our hands?

My contention is that sin affects everything about us – who we are as well as what we know and do. It can explain our hard hearts.

That could explain a lot about us – why we get so agitated by some people, why we are unwilling to tolerate differing viewpoints, and how we view our world.

Where it gets even messier is when we realize that God controls the universe. No argument there, right? That’s what the Bible teaches. The Bible also teaches that people can obey or disobey God’s commands.

The question hanging out there is this: How does God’s control relate to how you make choices?

If you are free to choose your own attitude and biases – in other words, to accept or reject your hard heart – then it seems to reduce God’s absolute power to something you can override. But – and it’s a big but – if God causes you to have a hard heart against Him and other things and people, then it makes God come across as unfair.

What I grapple with personally as well as corporately is how it seems sometimes that God brings about events and attitudes that clearly oppose His nature.

Rock and roll.

See the implications? This gets to the core of why there are pandemics, why certain elected officials come to power, and how we respond to others and the world and those around us.

As I write this, I’m trying to land this plane safely.

Wheels down:

The connection between God’s sovereignty and human freedom is a big, big mystery from where I sit. People a lot smarter than me (and probably you) have grappled with this for literally thousands of years. It’s still a mystery, and I’m not gonna solve this here at my MacBook on a Tuesday morning.

What I am certain of, though, is that God, by definition, is completely good in His actions. If we think about our hard hearts, and how they came about, we have to acknowledge that we have a big responsibility.

We are responsible to trust Him in all His work and ways. We are never called to solve or even figure out the difficulties that only God understands.

Be at peace with that. And be well. Comments are, as always, welcome.

I really wanted to address the events of January 6, but I want to wait a few more days because I want to make sure what I share is both reasoned and of God. In the meantime, I’d like to share, again, Lincoln’s prayer. There has historically been some question as to whether or not Lincoln was a Christian; nevertheless, this is as pertinent and meaningful today as it was in 1863.

By the President of the United States of America.

A Proclamation.

Whereas, the Senate of the United States, devoutly recognizing the Supreme Authority and just Government of Almighty God, in all the affairs of men and of nations, has, by a resolution, requested the President to designate and set apart a day for National prayer and humiliation.

And whereas it is the duty of nations as well as of men, to own their dependence upon the overruling power of God, to confess their sins and transgressions, in humble sorrow, yet with assured hope that genuine repentance will lead to mercy and pardon; and to recognize the sublime truth, announced in the Holy Scriptures and proven by all history, that those nations only are blessed whose God is the Lord.

And, insomuch as we know that, by His divine law, nations like individuals are subjected to punishments and chastisements in this world, may we not justly fear that the awful calamity of civil war, which now desolates the land, may be but a punishment, inflicted upon us, for our presumptuous sins, to the needful end of our national reformation as a whole People? We have been the recipients of the choicest bounties of Heaven. We have been preserved, these many years, in peace and prosperity. We have grown in numbers, wealth and power, as no other nation has ever grown. But we have forgotten God. We have forgotten the gracious hand which preserved us in peace, and multiplied and enriched and strengthened us; and we have vainly imagined, in the deceitfulness of our hearts, that all these blessings were produced by some superior wisdom and virtue of our own. Intoxicated with unbroken success, we have become too self-sufficient to feel the necessity of redeeming and preserving grace, too proud to pray to the God that made us!

It behooves us then, to humble ourselves before the offended Power, to confess our national sins, and to pray for clemency and forgiveness.

Now, therefore, in compliance with the request, and fully concurring in the views of the Senate, I do, by this my proclamation, designate and set apart Thursday, the 30th. day of April, 1863, as a day of national humiliation, fasting and prayer. And I do hereby request all the People to abstain, on that day, from their ordinary secular pursuits, and to unite, at their several places of public worship and their respective homes, in keeping the day holy to the Lord, and devoted to the humble discharge of the religious duties proper to that solemn occasion.

All this being done, in sincerity and truth, let us then rest humbly in the hope authorized by the Divine teachings, that the united cry of the Nation will be heard on high, and answered with blessings, no less than the pardon of our national sins, and the restoration of our now divided and suffering Country, to its former happy condition of unity and peace.

In witness whereof, I have hereunto set my hand and caused the seal of the United States to be affixed.

Done at the City of Washington, this thirtieth day of March, in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and sixty-three, and of the Independence of the United States the eighty seventh.

By the President: Abraham Lincoln
William H. Seward, Secretary of State.

How can you know that you’ve truly forgiven someone? To truly forgive someone means that, in the words of the great theologian Elsa, you’ve let it go.

I know, right? Not so easy.

We can forgive in the Christian sense – I mean, we forgive because Christ first forgave us (more on that later) – but there still may be that nagging sense of not being able to walk away. We nurse grudges. Maybe we avoid the other person.

I’m blessed in that I’m not one who tends to hold a grudge. But, I do remember wrongs done me.

It’s not that I’m hypersensitive. (Maybe I am.) While my memory isn’t what it was – and it never was all that great in the first place – things that happened literally decades ago are still present.

Seeing that in writing is kinda sick. I should be better than that.

So if I want or need to know that I’ve truly forgiven someone, there should be some realities of forgiveness.

Here’s my four.

First, though, a word from ancient script. It’s Colossians 3:13 – I love Colossians.

¹³ Bear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone. Forgive as the Lord forgave you.

Pretty basic. Keep reading; I’ve been convicted.

1. Forgiveness means that you’ve surrendered your right to get even. Okay, then. Revenge is a natural response to being wronged, isn’t it? In the Christian realm, we know that the blood of Jesus has covered all our sins. In order to receive that forgiveness, we have to do some up close and personal business with God Himself. We pray, and we receive Jesus for salvation. It doesn’t happen by osmosis. We have to acknowledge our wrongdoing. We don’t have to ask for forgiveness from God over and over again – when we receive Christ, we’re forgiven of past, present, and future sins. There’s no need to keep a scorecard. It’s a done deal. Of course we always need to acknowledge our sins. However …when you forgive someone else, that means that you’ve also placed the outcome of the matter in God’s hands. You let go. He has it. That might make you feel like it’s unfair – the scales of justice are unbalanced – but it’s not your concern. God will deal with you and the other person as He sees fit. That’s liberating.
2. Forgiveness takes time. Remember what I said about being aware that I can remember wrongs done decades ago? That should be sufficient time to get over anything. This is perhaps one of the differences between divine forgiveness and human forgiveness. God forgives with just a word, and that’s it. Finished. We, on the other hand, sometimes have to go through a gradual purge to rid ourselves of any lasting memories. Those wrongs from a long time ago still be in my memory, but they don’t sting like they once did. There is an element of choosing to move on that factors in here, too, but I don’t have a sweet personal testimony about that. Choosing is hard work. “Let go and let God,” they say, and while that looks good on a t-shirt or bumper sticker, it’s a principle I struggle with. Sheesh. It just takes time, and I’ll leave that right there.
3. Forgiving doesn’t require forgetting. That may seem counter to what I’ve already shared, but I believe there’s some truth here. I’m haunted by Isaiah 43:25 –“I, even I, am he who blots out your transgressions, for my own sake, and remembers your sins no more.” That’s amazing … but just to put some nuance in this, remember that God didn’t forget that Peter denied Jesus. Really – on a human level it might be futile to try to forget, and we don’t need to get all weirdly guilty because we don’t. The more we try, the more we remember. Ack. There has to be some way to detoxify that bad memory and cleanse it from our souls. It may remain in our heads, but it doesn’t have to stay in our hearts. I think it’s legitimate to beg God to make that a reality in our lives. I sure can’t do it on my own.
4. Forgiving is expected. Painful truth, that. I simply can’t find a loophole. Here’s the thing: nothing enables us to forgive like knowing in our souls that we have been forgiven ourselves. This is so fundamental, so basic. You don’t have to look any further than the Lord’s Prayer, specifically at Matthew 6:12: And forgive us our debts,as we also have forgiven our debtors. That’s what Jesus taught. It’s wise to listen to Him and obey, feelings notwithstanding. 

It is unthinkable for a forgiven person to refuse to forgive someone else.

If the question is “How can I know if I’ve truly forgiven someone?”, those are four ideas to consider.

I’d love to hear your comments. I’ve provided space below.

Be well.

Nope. I didn’t know what sonder meant, either.

Or maybe you were familiar with it, and I’m just playing catch-up.

It’s a word and a concept we need to embrace, though.

Here’s a definition, and I love the source – The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows:

sonder

I’ve been thinking about the implications of sonder, and have concluded it’s pretty earth-shattering.

Let’s talk about “us and them.”

Isn’t that the two camps we segregate ourselves into? Me and my people and you and your people?

These days our default position is to mistrust those who are not like us. Republican and democrat. Believer and atheist. Mask wearers and non-mask wearers. And so on.

A disclaimer: I’m rabidly conservative. There are plenty of other folks who aren’t.

But this  sonder thing. I’m realizing that people who aren’t like me (they’re liberal, or atheist, or non-maskers) are not stupid or malicious. (Okay, there may be the occasional exception, but I’m not talking about them.)

They have a whole host of talents and abilities. They’ll have interesting lives and backstories. They generally want what they feel is best for society, even mankind.

I may be so far removed from them socially, politically, religiously, and otherwise that they might as well be from another planet. I wonder “What brought you to this place in life you occupy?”

I’m sure they feel the same way about me.

Go back and read that definition of sonder. Read it again.

You’re probably several steps ahead of me by now, but I’ll state the obvious: It just helps to walk a ways in their shoes.

Sometimes about mid-afternoon, if it’s not so unbearably hot, I’ll take a 20-minute break and walk down to Smith Park, a couple of blocks away. Smith Park is one of the few remaining green spaces in downtown Jackson, part of the original city plan when it was laid out a long, long time ago.

I’ll people watch from a bench. I’ll see businesspeople, government officials, laborers, the homeless – it’s a nice microcosm of the population here.

Often I’ll focus in on one person and observe them. I’ll wonder – “What’s their story? Who do they claim as family? What brought them to this place in life they now occupy? What are their beliefs, hopes, and dreams?”

And I’ll think … gee. We’re alike. Those are the same questions I ask of myself sometimes.

We can judge people all we want. They do the same thing with you. They’re human. They are Americans, and if you’re one of our foreign readers, you can think in terms of your national context.

It would be great if we could simply choose to learn what we all have in common. That’s what sonder means to me.

There is also, in concert with this, a desire, at least on social media, to convert everyone to your own worldview. I’m not saying that’s a hopeless quest, but it’s wise to understand all those other worldviews first before pouncing on others.

State your case, and walk away. Don’t devalue folks who don’t see things the same way you do.

Because (drum roll!) you can’t change anyone but yourself.

God, of course, routinely changes lives. More accurately, He “rebirths” them. Isn’t that a worthy thing to pray for? Would you not want your own life changed to conform more to His?

Ancient script says this, in Galatians 3:26-28.

²⁶ So in Christ Jesus you are all children of God through faith,²⁷ for all of you who were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ. ²⁸ There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.

To make sonder personal, here’s some final thoughts:

• Everyone, and I mean everyone, you see today has a story. It’s not yours. It’s theirs. And it’s every bit as valid as yours.
• They may be wearing a MAGA hat, or have a rainbow flag on their shirts. They are human and of worth to God.
• You are not the center of their universe. Actually, you aren’t even the center of your own universe. That makes the playing ground pretty level.
• Embrace the practice of seeing everyone as adding value to the vast mosaic of life. The world would be just a little less if they weren’t in it.
• Relax. God’s got this. He has you, and He has them.

Sonder. Just know we are in all this together, no matter what your worldview.

Be well.

Tony’s Question: What do you have to conquer internally in order for sonder to be a reality in your own life? Comment below. Engage and respond. And subscribe to get some more good stuff.

I’m an empath. Your response might be “so what?” closely accompanied by “who cares?” Stick around. You may learn something.

Empaths make up less than 2% of the population. It is derived from the word “empathy,” which is the ability to both understand and feel other people’s feelings. “An empath is someone who doesn’t have the same filters that others have so they tend to feel everything. Empaths are emotional sponges who tend to take on the stress (and positivity) of the world,” explains Judith Orloff, M.D., psychiatrist and author of the book “Thriving as an Empath: 365 Days of Self-Care for Sensitive People.”

If you’re an empath, these last few weeks have been perfectly awful for you. Here’s why.

1. You feel the pain of others. If you share that with people who don’t understand what an empath is, it quickly freaks them out. I’ve said, “Not only do I know how you feel, I feel what you feel.” Saying that is always a good way to make a new friend. Not. I’d add, too, that empathy isn’t some new-agey feely-touchy concept. It’s a psychological reality.
2. If someone says one thing and means another, you know it. I’ve had people try to bluff and bluster their way through a situation and I’m sitting there thinking, “Really?” In your attempt to listen to others, you’ve heard stuff that was outright baloney. You knew it, too.
3. You feel drained if you’re around certain people for too long. The term is “energy vampire.” There are some folks in my life I’d just as soon see going as coming. I’ve been around certain individuals and left their presence with relief. They were so incredibly negative and cynical that I felt like I needed a shower.
4. You feel a certain emotion around specific people every time you’re with them. Several years ago there was a gentleman in a church I was serving whose two daughters were in my youth group. This man was so special to me, and he never even knew it. My thought was, “I want people to feel around me the way I feel around him.” There’s an opposite to this, of course – see #3 above.
5. Emotions can be confusing – one minute you were feeling normal and the next you’re feeling something else entirely and you don’t understand why. “Moody” doesn’t even come close as a descriptor. It’s a different thing altogether. It sometimes has nothing to do with what’s going on in your environment. It just is.
6. You dislike and avoid conflict. It can make you physically ill. You don’t want to even be around conflict, whether you’re a part of it yoursef or not. It genuinely bewilders you when people don’t try to get along. It just hurts.
7. You have trouble fitting in. That’s not to say you don’t have friends – you can have close, intimate friends and enjoy their company. Still, you have a sense of not belonging. You may self-identify as being socially awkward. Those profound things you want to say come out as gibberish.
8. You are easily overwhelmed. I’ve joked about when the next Space-X flight takes place, I’d like to hitch a ride. I need a break from earth. You really, really need your alone time.
9. People tend to tell you their problems – sometimes even their life stories. It can happen randomly. It doesn’t even have to be someone you know. I’ve got a couple of airplane stories that verify this.
10. You are highly intuitive – you simply “get” things that others don’t. There is a specific sense of your surroundings – you constantly have the experiences of, say, walking into a “peaceful” house or a “happy” room. And you are uncannily right about your senses.

“Tony,” you say, “I find that all rather odd. Why are you sharing this? It doesn’t really apply to me or where I am.”

If you’re an empath, your greatest strength can also be your greatest curse.

I’m coming from a place of some life experience. I’ve been around a while. Age doesn’t equate with wisdom, though. I know plenty of stupid old people.

As subjectively as I can, I’m telling you that these are unprecedented days for me. Maybe you, too.

If you aren’t an empath (and, statistically, you probably aren’t), then you are most likely a “just the facts, ma’am” kind of person. “Tell me what you’re going to do. Tell me what I’m supposed to do. Don’t bog down in how all this ‘feels.'”

Well, pilgrim, facts aren’t going to serve you as well as they might once have. You have to recognize how hurting, frustrated, confused, angry, hopeful people feel, and give them the grace and space to let them feel.

An empath understand that. They intuitively know how people feel. That’s a good thing. But they also feel what other people feel, and that’s not all that great.

Go back and look at my arbitrary list of 10. Maybe you see yourself in one or more of them. Maybe not.

If you do, then exploit that. Turn it into a positive. Let it be an asset, a helpful trait, to help you get some answers. Ask those questions. Let others ask those questions of you. Listen. Love harder.

But – and this is a huge but – be smart about when to engage and when to disengage with someone. Observe, don’t absorb. Your survival depends on that. That’s a solemn admonition to anyone.

Tony’s question: What can you do today to demonstrate empathy with someone else? Please share in the comments below. You might just encourage someone.

“What would Jesus do?” That is one of the most significant questions I, as a believer, can ask.

I am an old man. I’ve made peace with that.

My memory may not be all that great, but I remember social upheavals before. I grew up in the 60’s. In that sense, much of what is happening around the horrific tragedy of George Floyd has a sick sense of history repeating itself.

Then there’s COVID-19. Hasn’t that been a joy?

In light of all this, I have returned to a bedrock question. What would Jesus do? And I’m asking that in the context of Mr. Floyd and all the myriad pieces that make up the days we are now in as Americans.

I am speaking for myself here and not in any other capacity. I am most certainly not trying to speak for Christ. He’s already done that. This is my personal reflection and nothing else.

What would Jesus do?

1. He would ask us to be peacemakers.

Matthew 5:9

Blessed are the peacemakers,
for they will be called children of God.

What a sublime calling. To think that God Himself in the person of Jesus Christ trusts us enough to be peacemakers and peace-bringers. That is a beatitudinal mandate. We are to bring peace, not strife. Not confusion. Peace.

2. He’d ask us to find a common good.

Matthew 18:19-20

“Again, truly I tell you that if two of you on earth agree about anything they ask for, it will be done for them by my Father in heaven. For where two or three gather in my name, there am I with them.”

The key word here is “agree.” I contend there are more things in life among believers that unite us than divide us. That common ground is “Jesus, and Him crucified.” Scripture teaches us that there can be no fellowship between darkness and light, and any agreement between the two is superficial at best. That is not me saying that we as believers can’t unite with non-believers against a common foe. God has routinely used wicked people for His own ends. He has done and is doing that now. There is a unique bond among believers that transcends anything else on earth, and that’s what we build on.

3. He would remain silent when appropriate.

Mark 14:60-61a

Then the high priest stood up before them and asked Jesus, “Are you not going to answer? What is this testimony that these men are bringing against you?” But Jesus remained silent and gave no answer.

Jesus does answer the high priest later in this passage, but at this point He chose not to reply. Sometimes being quiet is the best response ever – silence can be more eloquent than words. It’s a matter of being wise enough to know when there isn’t anything that should be said. Of course, it’s wise to listen if you’re being silent.

4. He would serve others.

Mark 10:43-45
Not so with you. Instead, whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first must be slave of all. For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.”

This means we’re to abandon our agendas if they are self-serving. You can’t neglect yourself, obviously. You can’t give away if you have nothing to give. I can assure you, there are plenty of people in much worse shape than you are, and you may be divinely positioned to come alongside them and give them supernatural aid.

5. He would acknowledge that all lives matter.

John 3:16-17

For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him.

The word translated “world” shows up four times in these two verses. I can’t think of a more universal, all-encompassing sentiment than the fact that God loved the world. Jesus also says “whoever.” I’ve seen folks raked over the proverbial coals for saying “all lives matter,” as if that were some sort of heretical statement. Jesus states that all lives matter. However, having said that … Let me share some scripture first, because it covers another three points:

John 4:4-11

Now he had to go through Samaria. So he came to a town in Samaria called Sychar, near the plot of ground Jacob had given to his son Joseph. Jacob’s well was there, and Jesus, tired as he was from the journey, sat down by the well. It was about noon.

When a Samaritan woman came to draw water, Jesus said to her, “Will you give me a drink?” (His disciples had gone into the town to buy food.)

The Samaritan woman said to him, “You are a Jew and I am a Samaritan woman. How can you ask me for a drink?” (For Jews do not associate with Samaritans.)

Jesus answered her, “If you knew the gift of God and who it is that asks you for a drink, you would have asked him and he would have given you living water.”

“Sir,” the woman said, “you have nothing to draw with and the well is deep. Where can you get this living water?

6. He would spend time with the one (or ones) most in need at a given point in time.

Here’s Jesus, and He simply sits down with this woman and listens to her story. He asks good, probing, non-threatening and non-accusatory questions. Were there other people within a fairly easy walk who had needs, too? Certainly there were. But at this point, in this place, Jesus went to the heart of this woman’s needs … and before He spoke with her, she didn’t even know what these needs were.

There’s this:

Matthew 18:12-14

“What do you think? If a man owns a hundred sheep, and one of them wanders away, will he not leave the ninety-nine on the hills and go to look for the one that wandered off? And if he finds it, truly I tell you, he is happier about that one sheep than about the ninety-nine that did not wander off. In the same way your Father in heaven is not willing that any of these little ones should perish.

I believe what Jesus is saying here is to simply go where the greatest need is. If the sheep owner had gotten back with the wayward sheep, and he realized another 25 had wandered away, he’d put the one sheep in the pen and strike out in search of the 25. Those outside the pen are at greater risk than those safely inside the pen.  That’s all.

7. He would spend time in the place of greatest need.

Hearkening back to the Samaritan woman – it’s hard to tell from their dialogue how much time Jesus spent with her. We do know the disciples had gone into town to buy food. He could have gone with them and possibly had more ministry opportunities, as I mentioned. The point is that Jesus invested in this woman, one-on-one. While I won’t negate the value of speaking to large crowds, to have personal attention from someone who will listen to you is potentially life-changing. (As an aside, don’t stand off at a distance and holler at me. That will be a one-way conversation, because I won’t holler back.)

8. He would reach out to those who weren’t like Him.

Jews don’t associate with Samaritans. It was simply not done. Well, guess what. Jesus absolutely shattered that taboo. If you want to drill deeper, He shouldn’t have even been speaking to a woman, especially one by herself and out and about at this time of day.

9. He would express white-hot rage at sacrilege and blasphemy.

Mark 11:15-17

On reaching Jerusalem, Jesus entered the temple courts and began driving out those who were buying and selling there. He overturned the tables of the money changers and the benches of those selling doves, and would not allow anyone to carry merchandise through the temple courts. And as he taught them, he said, “Is it not written: ‘My house will be called a house of prayer for all nations’? But you have made it ‘a den of robbers.’”

Does Jesus get angry? You bet. This is the most physical demonstration of His anger in scripture. What brought this on? I’d suggest that this isn’t blind rage. It was purposeful, focused, and meaningful.

Ephesians 4:26-28
“In your anger do not sin”: Do not let the sun go down while you are still angry, and do not give the devil a foothold. Anyone who has been stealing must steal no longer, but must work, doing something useful with their own hands, that they may have something to share with those in need.

Certainly Jesus didn’t sin. The lesson is that we’d better get angry at sin, or else it’ll become way too attractive to us. We might find ourselves justifying anger in ourselves that is not of God. What a subtle satanic trap!

10. He would forgive His executioners whether they “deserved” it or asked for it or not.

Luke 23:33-34
When they came to the place called the Skull, they crucified him there, along with the criminals—one on his right, the other on his left. Jesus said, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.” And they divided up his clothes by casting lots.

Jesus forgave them. They didn’t ask for forgiveness. We don’t know if they received it and repented of their wickedness. But He forgave them anyway, with no apparent conditions attached.

Jesus would forgive Derek Chauvin. And Thomas Lane, Tou Thao and J. Alexander Kueng.

Read that again.

11. He would want us to experience peace and rest.

Matthew 11:28-30

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”

There’s a sweetness and comfort in these verses that resonate with me as much, if not more, than anything Jesus ever spoke.

Say these words aloud: “Weary.” “Burdened.” “Rest.” “Learn from me.” “Gentle.” “Humble.” “Easy.”

Those are words to quench a thirsting soul.

As I’ve watched this sordid tale of the death of George Floyd unfold, I have yearned for peace. For rest. Not only externally in the tumultuous world, but internally in my own soul. I’ve looked as best I can at “what would Jesus do?” So my points aren’t necessarily grounded in proper theology. I have followed my own imperfect heart. I’ve been afraid to speak up for fear of saying the wrong, offensive thing. I’ve remained silent when perhaps I shouldn’t have. I have been encouraged to listen – to listen with the goal of understanding. There are a lot of competing voices. Where I have settled is in trying to hear the voice of Jesus, and He tends to speak to me in whispers. And His whispers are infinitely louder than the noise around me.

Shhh. Listen. What would Jesus do? He will tell you.

Tony Asks: What is one thing you need to learn and act upon in these days? Please leave your comments below.

And I’d be grateful that, if you found value in this, share it with your friends.