Endure
hardship as discipline; God is treating you as sons. For what son is not
disciplined by his father? If you are not disciplined (and everyone undergoes
discipline), then you are illegitimate children and not true sons. Moreover, we
have all had human fathers who disciplined us and we respected them for it. How
much more should we submit to the Father of our spirits and live! Our fathers
disciplined us for a little while as they thought best; but God disciplines us
for our good, that we may share in his holiness. No discipline seems pleasant
at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of
righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it.
Hebrews 12
Had you asked me what comfortable felt like a few weeks ago,
I most likely would’ve listed an air-conditioned room with my Lazy Boy
Recliner, a cold Coke Zero in hand, and the television flipped on. I have a
confession to make: I got comfortable. No, I don’t have my recliner, and
television is a thing of the past, but I became spiritually comfortable.
It’s not something you could have seen or felt, but in the
midst of all the ministries here, I got comfortable. I stopped depending on God
for my next breath. I assumed my next meal, my bed (actually a couch here), and
my safety were all taken care of by the wonderful people here in Manila. I felt
a bubble around me. It was a beautiful feeling of safety, fullness, and happiness!
And then I hit a pot-hole. And a patch of gravel. And then
the motorcycle I was driving slid out from under me. And I came down hard;
scratched, bruised, and bleeding. What’s worse, Tamara, whom I had been taking
to watch Cedric at the hospital Sunday morning, had been victim of my comfort.
She too felt the pains of awakening that morning, and I felt one-hundred times
worse about hurting her than anything else.
Thank God that we were not seriously injured. And I couldn’t
have been carrying a more generous passenger. Tamara was nothing but sweet and
forgiving, which made the situation so much easier to digest.
But now I am left with a bloody mess of torn, gravel-embedded
skin and a constant nagging, burning pain every few seconds. Why, God?
It took me a few hours to realize that God, not
orchestrating this painful fall, but rather using it to teach his son, was
waking me up from my spiritual Lazy Boy, and reminding me that my every breath
is a gift from Him, and came at a price.
I am the vine; you are the branches. If a man remains in me and I in
him, he will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing.
If I fail to remain in Him, and I depend on the world around
me, it doesn’t matter where I am;
Philippines or Nashville, I can do NOTHING.
No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on,
however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have
been trained by it.
Father, I pray the
painful discipline I experienced Sunday be a constant reminder of where my
dependence lies. May these cuts and bruises produce a harvest that brings honor
and blessing to your name. Amen
