- Details
- Written by: Don Goulding
Yet Jesus himself frequently withdrew to the wilderness and prayed. (Luke 5:16)
My son and I leaned over the rail of a ferry headed for Canada. We spotted a half dozen otherworldly creatures. Black and white Dall’s porpoises took turns riding the bow wake. Their torpedo shaped bodies exploited the bulge of glassy current displaced by the ship’s prow. This went beyond survival instincts into the realm of animal fun.
Jesus rode the bow wake. Like the porpoises, he knew a secret place that launched him forward. It was time spent in prayer in the wilderness—that was his bow wake. It’s where he surfed with the heart of God. He went there frequently.
Now it’s my turn to navigate life. Jesus and the porpoises have shown me where to find power. It’s hidden in a glassy bulge at the bow of life’s churning mass. Only in this sacred place do I know Jehovah’s irresistible power, and find rest from mans’ tiresome effort. The name of this secret place is prayer.
It’s absurd to think that insignificant me can plant myself in God’s path. How preposterous to believe I can ride in his might without toil on my part. And yet, there it is, this glassy, surging bubble of prayer. I’m invited to plunge in headlong and discover the fun.
Prayer: Father above, let me ride your bow wake often.
- Details
- Written by: Don Goulding
“Woe to me!” I cried. “I am ruined! For I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips, and my eyes have seen the King, the Lord Almighty.” (Isaiah 6:5) (NIV)
For the first time in the history of a city I dare not name, hundreds of Chinese Christians gathered in a secret location. House groups that had never met took turns leading prayers through the night.
With so many believers converging at one time, the risk of a police raid was high. Consequently, there were no lukewarm Christians present, only those who valued this unified worship more than freedom.
Well into the night, the Holy Spirit filled the large room. Some lay face down, some wept, nearly everybody raised their arms. As the only Westerner, I couldn’t understand the urgent prayers, but the words didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except Jesus. I was undone.
My wife knits. One time she used the angora yarn from one of her completed projects for something different. Row by row, she pulled the yellow threads out of a sweater that had taken weeks to create. In the underground gathering, I felt like that sweater. The presence of Jesus pulled my life apart, row by row. My past opened up. My place in society lost relevance.
More than a one-off encounter, I must learn to live undone. I will, of course, be undone at the judgment seat. But today I need my vanities and the popularity I seek to unravel so the Lord can make me into something new.
Prayer: King of Kings, help me to live undone before you.
- Details
- Written by: Don Goulding
He was wounded because of our rebellious deeds,
crushed because of our sins;
he endured punishment that made us well;
because of his wounds we have been healed. (Isaiah 53:5)
Jesus went homeless on earth to give me a residence in paradise. Refused hospitality in many towns, he ensured my permanent welcome into the New Jerusalem. And by relinquishing his rights of sonship, he legalized my adoption forever.
Splayed on the cross before every eye, Jesus silently accepted the demise that mankind deserved. He was whipped with shards, spit upon, and nailed. That is how the powers of darkness would have treated us for eternity had Jesus not taken our place.
After a lifetime of insolence and apathy, my sins filled many pages in the books of heaven. The list was to be read aloud and the images replayed before beings of all realms. But now when the books are opened, my every sin will be lined out with the red blood of Jesus. My public shame has been shifted to the Lamb of God, while his virtue flys to me.
Jesus lived a sinless life. When he was done, he took up my guilt and, though his nostrils burned at the stench, he pulled it over his head. He then laid the robe of his righteousness around my shoulders. He wore my filth, I wear his purity.
Prayer: My blessed Lord Jesus, thank you for trading places.