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- Written by: Don Goulding
But those who wait for the Lord’s help find renewed strength;
they rise up as if they had eagles’ wings,
they run without growing weary,
they walk without getting tired. (Isaiah 40:31)
In the low mountain brush of California, I stumbled into a covey of quail. They had a comical chortle and funny bobbing crowns. They supposed their predator, me, would be upon them if they didn’t skedaddle. But rather than flying, they ran out of my path. I laughed as their tiny legs scissored in panic mode. Most scampered the whole way, and only when it was impossible to avoid my boots, did a few take to the air. They resumed their scuttle at the earliest opportunity.
I’m a spiritual quail. Oh I can fly, I’ve done it before. Soaring on the wings of faith is a glorious thing. I reach fantastic heights, escape eternal danger, and revel as the wind of the Spirit carries me. But my first tendency is to pedal the legs of self-sufficiency. Only when there is no other way out do I seem to remember my faith wings.
Why do I run on the ground, wearing out long before the end of each day? How can I forget that my strength is in trusting the Lord? I renounce these cursed little feet and their vain self effort. I must learn to press my weight onto God’s invisible provision, and feel the rush of strength under me.
When I do stretch out my faith and trust the Lord to carry me, it’s only for short distances. Then, I set my feet to running again. It’s not right. I should fly everywhere, not only when there are life threatening predators. Faith is for every part of life. Why not soar with Jesus when I brush my teeth, when I’m on blasé errands, and when I’m lying in bed? Why would I ever choose feet over wings?
Prayer: Jesus, make me into an eagle, not a quail.
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- Written by: Don Goulding
They exchanged the truth of God for a lie and worshiped and served the creation rather than the Creator, who is blessed forever! Amen. (Romans 1:25)
The plan was to wave hello to the planetary giant called Jupiter, exploit its gravity, and be flung beyond. Launched from the space shuttle Discovery in 1990, the Ulysses spacecraft approached the massive layered marble as it rolled across the black reaches of space. But could Ulysses break free of a pull 1,000 times that of Earth? As he rounded out his run through Jupiter’s orbit, he felt the allure of pink, rust-red, and beige dust swirls teasing of glorious mysteries below. The heroic Ulysses turned his eyes from the temptation, and blasted his rockets in a trajectory for the Sun.
What does Ulysses teach us about spiritual life?
God created earthly gifts for us to enjoy, but each has its gravitational pull. Dear family relationships, the tongue delights of an hors d'oeuvre, the thrill of a soccer goal—they draw on us.
“More,” they say. “Do you want more, to get closer?”
No matter how wholesome gifts begin, without moderation they change into false idols. They would keep us in their orbit forever, where we’d miss the far greater wonder of encountering their Creator.
A beautiful sunset, a vintage wine, an attractive person, or anything for which we can find an appetite—the Ulysses maneuver applies to them all. The blast used to jump orbit is a purposeful redirected focus. When the attraction tugs, we must remind ourselves that if Jesus is able to make something so exquisite, then he himself is infinitely more breathtaking.
The trick is to shear away and worship the creative qualities of our Lord, and do it until we feel the gravity of the created pleasure release its pull. I must turn my trajectory to him, for he is the only fulfillment of whatever Jupiter holds me.
Prayer: Father, may created gifts turn my eyes to your Son.
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- Written by: Don Goulding
Wake up then, and strengthen what remains that was about to die, because I have not found your deeds complete in the sight of my God. (Revelation 3:2)
I arrived in the Islamic Republic of Pakistan to teach a Christian leadership seminar, and was assigned two bodyguards who slept outside my room with an AK-47 rifle. I’m not sure how that fits into turning the other cheek, but I submitted to the brothers who lived in this environment, so hostile to Christians.
Ten years prior, Islamic extremists burned their Christian village to the ground. The man I stayed with had received three letters in the last month that warned him to renounce Christ or be killed.
A slap of violence sets one fully awake, and so the Pakistani believers were more aware in their worship than I. The price to follow Christ was too dear for a false claim. In prayer, they clutched their neighbor’s hands above their heads and pled to the throne of mercy. More than half of the women could recite at least one Bible chapterfrom memory. I took a break while they continued to study about prayer. When I returned, they had their faces pushed onto the floor crying in repentance for not having prayed enough.
Oh, that I might keep my faith in Jesus fresh. Except for the guns pointed at them, I long to be more like my Pakistani brothers and sisters. I try to wake up to the intensity of Christ’s love, but creature comforts anesthetize my heart from its urgent need.
Then, I remember those brown faces squinting upward. I recall our childlike jumping to God as we danced in unfettered reverence. Those memories are my smelling salts.
The secret worshipers were sharply aware of what they were doing in seeking Jesus, and they shook me awake also.
Prayer: Oh Lord, inspire my faith through persecuted believers.