The Incredible Love of the Father

I don’t know about you, but it is easier for me to believe in God than it is to believe God loves me. This hesitation to rest in His love causes me to live under a constant pressure to perform — to prove myself to God and to others. But Christ came as a mediator between God and man to reconcile us to the Father and take away that pressure to perform. Every day I must remind myself that God the Father loves me not because of what I do, but simply because He made me. I can abide in His love because Christ has reconciled me with the Father.

God wants us to agree with truth whether we understand it or not. Truth is simply the way things really are (reality). It is like the answer to a difficult math problem which you accept to be true even though it does not make sense. As you move on and continue to try to understand the problem, it eventually begins to make sense, especially if the teacher explains it effectively. Whether or not you understand does not effect whether or not the answer is true.

It is like that with God’s love. He loves us simply because He made us, but only through Christ can we abide in that love. He wants us to agree with truth because only when we agree with truth (with God) can He truly begin to work through our lives. And this is the truth which we should agree with everyday: in Christ we are cleansed, accepted, and loved by our Father in Heaven.

We must first realize that…

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The Incredible Love of the Father.


I’m Angry at God | The Rebelution

I wrote the following article for the Rebelution dot com. I praise God for the way He works and leads. It was a very vulnerable piece for me to write, but the response has been OVERWHELMINGLY uplifting and encouraging, through the comments, emails, and messages I have gotten. I don’t deserve it, but I am grageful that God can use me even in my brokenness. As one song says: “You make beautiful things out of the dust; You make beautiful things out of us.” I want to allow God to bring beauty out of my dirt, no matter how hard it is.

“‘I just feel so dead. I am so torn up inside. Worthless. Believing lies [and] feeling incapable of believing truth. But I just have to. I am desperate. Angry. I need God yet I feel extremely angry at God. I feel hopeless. This battle never ends. I just want to die.’

I penned these words in my journal not two years ago, not nine months ago, but yesterday and they expressed what I wanted to scream at God in that moment — and I did when I was alone.

I’m not proud of it, but I cannot deny: I’m angry at God.

Pain, lots of pain—and anger—along with frustration, confusion, and despair pretty much describe my relationship with God right now. Sounds really Christian doesn’t it? Aren’t Christians supposed to abide in the love of God and rest in His peace?

I wish I could supply some answers. I like to have my life under control. I like to know what is going on. I hate struggle. If something is bothering me, I like to know why and I like to deal with it. I hate confusion. I hate not knowing which way is up.

But God has chosen to devastate my life like an eruption devastates a volcano. And this frustrates me. It makes me angry that He took my Mom in a car accident nine months ago. I resent the feeling of disconnect from God that I feel. I can’t sleep well; it’s hard to concentrate on work.”

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Dragon’s Breath

I bent hard into the wind. The hot desert sun beat down upon my back and shoulder with no mercy. Dust flew into my eyes and mouth and up my nostrils drawing all the moisture out of my body. Moisture is water. Water gives life. Every now and then when I was able to lift my head and look forward, I would catch a glimpse of something, desperately hoping it was water. But it wasn’t. It never was. I plodded on barely placing one foot in front of the other. Stumbling and falling, ever walking straight into the wind, wind like dragon’s breath.

It seemed like I was in the desert all alone. I felt forsaken, deceived. Nothing can go on forever. I knew the desert would end. But that’s hard to believe when you have traveled for days and there is still no end in sight. My hair had grown long, my skin was dry and flaking, and my feet were swollen from all the walking. I felt dirty and messy and ready to die.When I could walk no further, a gust of dragon’s breath rushed passed and I fell helplessly backwards to the ground on my back. It hurt to have all the  air forced through my lungs and out my  parched throat. I groaned in my misery, there in the sand, all alone with my hair a tangled mess all over my face. I closed my eyes.

I could almost feel time stand still. The wind stopped, my heart pounded in my ears, my mind went blank.

“Help!” I tried to yell, but couldn’t. “Dear God, help!” I screamed to the shadows of my brain.

Slowly, inside my head, I could see a light glimmering. It was like watching creation happen all over again. Slowly, so slowly the light grew and glimmered. Eventually it had grown so bright that all the shadows with their secrets fled to somewhere I did not know. Finally, I began to make out the source of the light. It was a man and I knew the man! It was Jesus! But then it changed. Jesus was in pain. I saw this, in my head I saw Jesus on the cross! It changed again suddenly, while the light got brighter until it was blindingly white. Now I saw a throne and on the throne sat the Father and by the Father, on His right, I saw a warrior ready for battle. It was Jesus the King, standing with His sword drawn. And then I felt the dragon’s breath and it was all gone.

I opened my eyes and saw the dry, pale blue sky. I stood up trembling in my weakness. Before me stretched the desert long into the horizon, but beside was a little stream. I had not noticed it in my hallucinating state or maybe Someone had just put it there. In any case, there it was, more of a trickle than a stream. But it was water–and water gives life.


The Soldier

“Tell me a story, Daddy!” the little boy exclaimed.

Looking down at his son, the Dad did not see a little boy, but a future soldier. A man who was in training to face the battles of real life, someone who would one day face the world and need to be prepared for it.

So the Dad softly began the story.

“Once upon a time there was a soldier, who served a mighty king. One day, the mighty king called all his soldiers to battle. Like a good man, our soldier responded and headed for the battle.

“The enemy was fierce and terrible. It was said that the enemy was as fierce as a roaring lion. At first this intimidated the soldier, but he pressed on because the king had called him.

“The fighting was intense and many men died. The enemy ravaged the towns and villages of the countryside, burned buildings and killed families. It was brutal. But still the soldier fought on, knowing his king would not let him fight alone.

“At one point, the enemy fought especially hard. It seemed like there was no way for the kingsmen to live out the fight. Some soldiers fled, but our soldier sent a petition to the king and the king sent reinforcements that drove the enemy away—but not after a long night’s fighting. During the night, the enemy made a surprise attack and our soldier was injured. The kingsmen took him aside and comforted him, but eventually they all went back to their fighting.

“The soldier felt all alone. It was dark and he could hear the screams and horrors of the battle. He almost despaired, but just then he felt a firm hand and heard a friendly voice say, ‘I am with you, soldier! Don’t give up; you will be healed if you make it through the night!’ It was the army’s great physician, who had come to help!

“The soldier was encouraged and able to tolerate the darkness a little more after this. But it was still so very lonely. He could hear the enemy making a great noise and he was intimidated.

“Soon the sun began to rise. The soldier could see the glimmer in the far eastern sky. Already the soldier could tell that whatever the great physician had done was healing his body. He sat up and looked around. By now the fighting was over, and had moved to a different place, but the destruction was obvious. The enemy had killed and destroyed, burned and plundered, what hope was left?

“The soldier wondered if there was hope. He saw the destruction from the battle and wondered what good could come from it? Could anything beautiful ever arise again? The soldier looked at his arms and legs, all bruised and bloody: could he ever live normally again?

“Questions and doubt plagued his mind. At first he resigned to the destruction, realizing there was no way around it. This was reality. But as the soldier crawled through the dirt and the ashes, he became angry. Why hadn’t the king responded sooner? Why did the king allow the army’s numbers to become so depleted? Hadn’t the king failed?

“But just then, the soldier looked up, and right there, right in front of him stood the king.

“‘The enemy has been routed and the nation has been saved,’ the king said.

“The soldier was ashamed at his thoughts and anger and looked down mournfully. ‘I am sorry to doubt you,’ said he.

“‘Do not be ashamed, sir,’ said the king. ‘But come and arise, we are victorious!’ And with that the king grabbed hold of the soldier’s shoulders and hoisted the man to his feet.

“‘There is nothing to fear because I will always protect you,’ affirmed the great king. ‘You will never be alone, but always safe under my protection. So go now walk in my joy because you are my victorious soldier.”

The Dad looked at his son who was now fast asleep. It was his story: the Dad was the soldier, and Jesus was the king. One day the little boy was going to face the same experience and the same struggle. He was going to be hurt and would need healing; he was going to doubt, and would need renewed faith. But until then, he would sleep in the safe and loving arms of his dad.


Phil Wickham

To the one whose dreams have fallen all apart
And all you’re left with is a tired and broken heart
I can tell by your eyes you think you’re on your own
But you’re not alone

Have you heard of the One who can calm the raging seas
Give sight to the blind, pull the lame up to their feet
With a love so strong it never lets you go
No you’re not alone

You will be safe in His arms. You will be safe in His arms
The hands that hold the world are holding your heart
This is the promise He made, He will be with you always
When everything is falling apart, you will be safe in His arms

Did you know that the voice that brings the dead to life
Is the very same voice that calls you now to rise
So hear Him now, He’s calling you home. You will never be alone

You will be safe in His arms. You will be safe in His arms
The hands that hold the world are holding your heart
This is the promise He made, He will be with you always
When everything is falling apart, you will be safe in His arms

Cause these are the hands that built the mountains,

the hands that calm the sea
These are the arms that hold the lame

and they are holding you and me
These are the hands that heal the leper

pull the lame up to their feet
These are the arms that were nailed to the cross

to break our chains and set us free

You will be safe in His arms. You will be safe in His arms
The hands that hold the world are holding your heart
This is the promise He made, He will be with you always
When everything is falling apart, you will be safe in His arms