The Nature of Soap
“Should I stick my hand in the toilet?”
That was the question I asked myself. It was Jeremy’s bar of soap. I had lost mine somewhere on the journey. It’s not like I’d been aiming for the toilet, everyone knows soap is slippery. He’d understand if I told him what happened.
We were nearing the end of the whirlwind thirteen-day, three-island, two-conference, worship mission trip in the Philippines. Jeremy, one of my closest friends, was a part of the team. He is a good mate to have with you on these kinds of adventures as he always brings enough toiletries to share – with me. Though I think his patience was wearing thin when I helped myself to his closely rationed Q-Tips.
In case you think I was taking advantage, don’t. I paid him back with beef jerky and Gold Bond powder. Honestly, I was surprised he hadn’t thought to bring either.
We were in a small church building constructed of mismatched pieces of plywood, sheet metal, and cinder blocks. The little church crowded a narrow road on the side of a volcano and was hemmed in by other ramshackle buildings, farmer’s fields, all surrounded by dense jungle.
The toilet was in the corner of a room downstairs. Two walls and a door, both constructed of paper-thin plywood, were all that separated it from daily life and offered only the appearance of privacy. The toilets I experienced in the Philippines were porcelain bowls, no water tank, no seats – which are apparently an American luxury. This toilet was no different. Also like most Filipino toilets I’d encountered, it was connected to sewage but not running water.
Next to the toilet was a large barrel filled with clean-ish water. Floating in the water was a big plastic cup. The cup was for both flushing and bathing. Oh, I forgot to note, the toilet room was also the shower.
I stood naked and skinny, trying not to touch the black mildewed flimsy walls. With the plastic cup, I poured water over my head making sure to keep my eyes and mouth closed. I was fully lathered, when Jeremy’s soap determined to be unruly. It could have flown into the water barrel, but it didn’t.
“Maybe he wouldn’t understand,” I thought nervously.
Jeremy’s generosity was wearing thin, so I couldn’t come back empty handed. I made the hard decision. Naked, sudzed, bleary eyed, and dry heaving, I plunged my hand into the murky water and retrieved the soap.
I believe soap is inherently clean. While its surface can get dirty, it’s in soap’s nature to be clean. So I lathered it, rinsed it, and returned it with a clean conscience. Jeremy was a little mad. But mostly because I waited until well after we had returned home to tell him about the incident. And also maybe because I had borrowed soap from one of the other fella’s for the remainder of the trip.
Jeremy doesn’t hold my view on soap.
And apparently my view on soap isn’t unwavering.
After I told him what happened he grinned, but it was not friendly. It was evil and promised malicious retribution.
You know that saying “shit happens?”
Well, it’s true.
Sometimes it’s because of carelessness, which wasn’t the case with the soap – seriously Jeremy, let it go… please. Sometimes it happens because we miss God, we sin, we fall short.
Sometimes it happens because someone else messed up. Sometimes it just happens for no apparent reason. A bar of soap jumps out of your hand and into the toilet.
Sometimes while you follow God and you live a life of faith, while you chase Him radically believing, while living the sincerest worship lifestyle ever known to man, your soap still ends up in the toilet.
And in these moments, we have to know one thing.
His love for us is still perfect and always good.
The goodness of my Fathers love has navigated me powerfuly through much more devastating experiences than soap in a toilet.
I have learned that my experiences can never be the measuring stick for my Father’s goodness.
His goodness and His love will follow me all the days of my life. Period.
This faith is the foundational truth upon which everything else in my life is built. And it has been a firm foundation, especially when shit happens.
I pray you would grow sure in His great love today, that upon the rock of His goodness you build you entire life.
The Freest Person In The Room
Jesus displayed the greatest act of self-control, the greatest revelation of freedom, when He laid His life down for us.
The enemy didn’t kill Jesus. Jesus couldn’t be killed. He had never sinned (see 2 Cor 5:21). In Romans 6:23 we read, “the wages of sin is death.” Jesus had never sinned and therefore He would have never died, nor could His life be taken from Him. He freely gave it on our behalf.
He laid His life down and revealed the power of freedom. He revealed the wonder of all authority; He revealed the sovereignty of perfect love.
The freest person in the room is the most powerful person in the room. A free person never operates in the context of control; a free person operates in the context of trusting surrender to sovereign love.
In every room Jesus walked into, He was the person with the most authority. He was the person with the most power. Why? Because He was also the person with the most freedom.
Jesus was the freest person because He gave His life even unto death. And not even death could control Him; death couldn’t make Him bend the knee nor cause Him to surrender His freedom. He rose. He is alive.
When He laid down His life, when He let himself be murdered, it was the greatest example of self-control that’s ever been. It revealed the power of Jesus freedom, the authority of sovereign love. And it purchased for us access to freedom from the controlling narrative of hell. It gave us the roadmap to intimacy and trust.
When He rose, He gave us access to know sovereign love like He did and to walk in the authority of sovereign love like He did.
When we live from the narrative of sovereign love, we are becoming one with him and because of His spirit in us and the gift of self-control, we are the freest people in the room, the freest people on the planet. Free to love in the same trusting powerful way Jesus loved. In the same resurrection life Jesus purchased.
This is Not a Counseling Session
I sat across from the couple trying not to fidget, trying to keep a look of calm on my face, I was supposed to be the fella with the answers, the counselor. I wasn’t a Counselor.
I’d considered becoming a Counselor after Bible college. Karen thought I’d be good at it. But when I realized how much more schooling I would need, I decided against counseling as a full-time profession.
Years later, I became a family pastor. Yes, it is funny.
When the couple asked to meet with me, it was simply to, “talk through some communication issues.” The wife felt like she wasn’t always heard and the husband wanted to “do better.” I had the impression it would be a lighthearted session.
And it was. And then it wasn’t.
Everything was going great. We talked about love languages. We discussed carving out intentional time together. We navigated some of their parenting tensions. But after each subject, I would begin to conclude the meeting only to hear myself say, “I sense there’s more.”
It was starting to feel awkward, especially after the wife asked me what I meant by “more” and I didn’t know.
As a non-counselor in a counseling situation, I was simply doing the only thing I was truly qualified to do; follow the prompting of the still small voice of Holy Spirit. But it seemed to be causing some discomfort for all involved. Have you ever noticed how following the Comforter is almost always uncomfortable?
There was a definite tension in the room
I finally decided to ease the disquiet by closing our time in prayer when suddenly the husband started weeping. Just like that. Then, to both his wife’s and my surprise, he began to describe the affairs he’d been having over the last several years.
“Oh, that’s what, ‘there’s more’ meant” I thought as I sat trying not to fidget, trying to keep a look of calm on my face.
To be honest, I was a little overwhelmed. It was ugly, and sad, and heart breaking; his last several years had been “a living hell”. And this hell had been crushing this husband for years; and now it was crushing his wife. This hell had oppressed, and lied, and controlled, and demanded, and accused. This hell was marked by shame, and condemnation, and fear, and despair, and confusion, and separation, and sorrow—so much sorrow.
But I learned long before I was a family pastor who wasn’t a Counselor that I have one responsibility in every meeting. No matter the carnage, no matter the hell, I am the person with hope.
You see, years earlier I had learned that sovereign love is greater than every broken experience on the planet. Love can redeem every tragedy. Every horror, every “living hell” can be worked to good because love is sovereign.
While I sat listening and a little overwhelmed I reminded myself over and again, “Love is bigger. Love can redeem this mess. Love is more powerful. Love can forgive, set free, love can heal and restore and save this couple, their family, the legacy they were designed to live and leave.”
And then, over the next hour and a half, I spoke the measureless revelation of love over them. I gave them access to the whole story. With every word, I released grace. At every turn I revealed hope. The Holy Spirit was with me, Wisdom a close friend. And the power and authority of sovereign Love began to transform the atmosphere in the room.
Yes, there was a deep sadness, but hope was greater still as hearts softened and Heaven’s perspective began to reign.
I witnessed sincere repentance by the husband; the work of forgiveness in his wife, and then true, powerful hope and the beginning of restoration.
Then I sat in awe as the couple held each other weeping while recommitting one to another, their tears the testimony of sorrow and joy, evidence of the power of the resurrection life.
They laughed as they embraced. Sovereign Love had begun the glorious work of transformation. It was intimate and holy. It was a true miracle.
Here’s what I know to be true. If I hadn’t discovered His sovereign love in my own life, I would have been greatly offended by this man’s sin and been no help to this couple.
If I had given this couple the angry judge, the offended God I had been taught from pulpits my entire life, I may have achieved results, but intimacy would not have been one of them.
While an angry, or offended, or disappointed God may seem appropriate for this situation, it would have been destructive to the future of their marriage.
No, only the power and authority of sovereign love could save this couple. Only a God in a good mood could save them.
Not once did I identify the husband with his behavior. I treated him like a spiritual giant who had desperately missed the mark. I called him into his identity. Understand, I didn’t whitewash what he did. We went at it straight on, the broken, ugly, mess that he had made. This was uncompromising love, a forceful encounter with the power of mercy and grace.
And not once did I identify the wife with her experience as a victim. I treated her as a spiritual giant who could powerfully choose to forgive and restore. I called her into her identity. Understand, I didn’t ignore her pain and fractured trust. We went at it straight on, the broken, ugly, mess that he had made. This was sovereign love, a gentle encounter with the power of mercy and grace.
Here’s the deal, an angry judge is about punishment and performance. This God would have identified the wife with her pain and the husband with his guilt and shame. The only way forward would have been a husband seeking redemption through acts of slavery and a wife only feeling safe when she was in control. Their marriage would have become a prison of their own making; restored intimacy, an impossibility.
The whole point of marriage is intimacy. An angry God would have destroyed that.
Yes, there was a road ahead of them—a continued journey of choosing surrender, and forgiveness and trust. But what we experienced over the course of nearly two and a half hours was unbelievable; the power of sovereign love restoring the past and redeeming the future; the wonder of sovereign love saving a lost couple from “a living hell.”
I believe the power of sovereign love can restore your past and redeem your future; Our Father’s love is bigger than anything you’re facing today. He wants to transform you in the wonder of sovereign love. He wants to transform your relationships, your health, your finances. He is for you and His love is the answer to your every question.
This life isn’t about a conclusion—that’s a very finite thought. This life is about transformation. Our Father invites you into the revelation of His good love so you can be set free and transformed.
May you know His love more today.
God’s Whisper
When my daughter Eva was an infant and even into her toddler days, she was very attached to her momma. She had to know where Karen was at all times. And if she lost track of mom it had the potential to be devastating, for everyone. And if Karen ever went anywhere without Eva, we had to be very strategic regarding her exit strategy.
Occasionally Karen, not thinking, would walk out the front door to get the mail. The mailbox is only 25 feet from the house and it would take no more than a minute before she returned. But if Eva happened to see her mom leave, she would cry like it was the end of the world.
I would hear Eva crying and come running. I would scoop her up, hold her close and whisper how it would be alright. I would do all this as I took her to the front window to point out her mom, just feet away.
Eva was too young and too immature to understand that her momma was just outside the door. And I knew this.
And I wasn’t annoyed by it. I wasn’t angered by her immaturity, I didn’t berate her. I recognized that even though I knew the whole story, Eva didn’t. My little girl didn’t understand what was taking place, so I just held her, “I love you, its ok honey, Daddy’s got you. Mommy is coming right back.”
I saw from her perspective and valued it even though it was not the whole story. I positioned myself in her pain, I acted with compassion, kindness, maturity and love.
My point? God is the good Father.
He is always running to us, always scooping us up, always positioning Himself in our pain. He is compassionate, kind, mature and loving.
But all along the way He is giving us access to His perspective. If we can but just lean in, we would begin to see how He sees.
He will scoop you up today, He will wipe your tears away, and he will lift you up so you can see the way He sees. And I pray that you see the way He sees and you experience His peace and joy today.
The End of Empty
I don’t know if you have ever thought about it like this, but need is what defines life here on planet earth.
In fact, time itself is the father of need. The universe was created as finite, meaning there
“Need is the final singular truth by which our world operates. While need is the very substance of our existence, it has no place in God’s reality. And if God is love, then you could say it like this: need cannot exist in love. Need is actually counter to the nature of love. Love trumps every need, every time. It’s the good news that only gets better.”
Need is the final singular truth by which our world operates. Humanity exists inside the confines of need. We trade in the currency of need. It is the foundational structure of our DNA. It’s the defining core value of our very existence. You could say that we are slaves to need.
Need is with us when we wake and when we sleep. And it’s not an abstract idea. It’s probably the most real thing many of us know. It’s an absolute, a physical, emotional, and spiritual reality woven into the very fabric of our existence.
For instance, we need air to breathe and we need gravity to keep us from floating away. We need food to sustain our bodies. We need clothes and
What I am trying to communicate is that we are one big walking, talking, breathing, need.
It’s not a bad thing. It’s actually beautifully brilliant if seen from God’s perspective. He created it. And because God is good, He only has good ideas and only creates good things. I believe God created
So creation took its first breath in the wonderful certainty of need. Our heavenly Father created a finite reality in which men and women dwell. And then He did something odd and absolutely amazing, He breathed His Spirit, His Neuma into us. He put eternal spirits
God is love and He is always good. It says so in my Bible. And yours too.
Love is the beginning and the end, and everything in between, and everything before and everything after. Love is infinite, immeasurable.
Love is complete. Love is the answer, not the question. Love is always good. That’s all in the Book as well.
“There is a revelation of love available to every one of us that settles the insecurity of need, that sets us free to become sons and daughters of a perfectly good, perfectly loving, heavenly Father.”
Now here’s my crazy thought. While
I would like to suggest that need fosters insecurity, while love cultivates identity. Stick with me, I think I’m on to something big here. I believe there is a revelation of love available to every one of us that settles the insecurity of need, that sets us free to become sons and daughters of a perfectly good, perfectly loving, heavenly Father.
Before Jesus’s resurrection, we lived in a world where every emotion, every decision, and every moment was defined by need, by what we didn’t have and needed or what we would need later on.
After Jesus’s resurrection, our heavenly Father invited humanity to live free of the controls of need in a glorious infinite revelation—Love. The core value of our very existence was redeemed from a need-based reality to an intimate, measureless love relationship.
Jesus came and revealed the Father. He took all of our needs upon Himself and died. He took a need-based existence to the grave where it always belonged. And upon His resurrection, He introduced us to a greater revelation of intimacy with our heavenly Father, and access to the infinite reality of His Kingdom of love—heaven on earth.
What would it look like if we began to live with a greater revelation of Love?
I bet we would look a little more like Jesus…