It was on one of these mornings, that my mind was already in the car speeding off to school, when she rose from her knees to her feet and handed me Philippians 4:6-7. I’m sure she meant to address some concern I had, something senior-ish, which I’ve long forgotten. I read it in the driver’s seat of my car, then stared at it, and then treasured it. Be anxious for nothing.
Get ready, y’all. I’m about to blow your mind.
No amount of performance can fashion me into a power to be trusted with outcomes. He alone is worthy. Only He can be trusted.
Only His presence, only His voice, only His truth. That’s where the healing is.
Perfect. That one word. It doesn’t seem like much. We use it all the time. We make the perfect plans. Find the perfect outfit. Take the perfect vacation. Run after…
At Christmas I have to examine my flurry of decorating, shopping, wrapping, cooking and partying and wonder if I’ve forgotten who made His entrance on that day. He exchanged His place at God’s right hand for a manger, His throne for a cross—and He did this for me. If my Christmas traditions are the Sunday school equivalent of a superficial smile, nod and a “Hey, good to see ya,” at the advent of so great a salvation, then I’m in serious need of prayer.
Has Jesus taken hold of you? In Philippians chapter three, Paul describes a depth of self-abandonment of which few of us are acquainted. Before Christ confronted him on the road…
Any time you think that the outcome is sure–especially if you believe the outcome is certain based on your ability to perform the desired result to fruition–look out. That’s pride, and sooner or later it will take you down.