Today is the official launch day for my book, The End of Me: Finding Resurrection Life in the Daily Sacrifices of Motherhood. You can now order my book and receive it in the next few days.
We live in the city, and we see many homeless people with signs on the road and on the sidewalk downtown. My kids see them, but it wasn’t until last year that my oldest son said something. He began by asking me questions, like who’s helping them? And what can we do? So, we joined up with a group from our local church and went to a homeless shelter to serve up food we brought and ate together (pre-COVID, so we only had a chance to do this one time). But this year my son brought it up again and said he wants to help the homeless and the poor. So, we’re looking into what we can do this year to help them. My son also had the idea to keep his coin purse in the car to hand out money at times when we’re driving.
My son sees. He doesn’t close his eyes in deliberate ignorance, but he opens them wide in love and care and moves forward in compassion. My son sees the hurting in our city. He sees how God sees.
My boys and I have started reading the book of Exodus together, and we’ve read about the suffering of the Israelites under the Egyptian Pharaoh. In a time when God’s people were slaves and suffering under infant male genocide the Bible says this, “God saw the people of Israel — and God knew” (Ex. 2:25). God moved towards his people in compassion when he called to Moses from a burning bush and said, “I have surely seen the affliction of my people who are in Egypt and have heard their cry because of their taskmasters. I know their sufferings” (Ex. 3:7).
Jacob loved Rachel more than her sister Leah. Leah was mistreated by her sister, and despised and rejected by her husband. Yet, “When the Lord saw that Leah was hated, he opened her womb: but Rachel was barren” (Gen. 29:31). God saw Leah even when her husband did not. And it was through Leah’s womb that the line of Jesus came through, not Rachel’s. Our God sees the despised and rejected and moves toward them; he even chooses them and raises them up for great purposes.
Another woman from the Old Testament (one who is not technically one of God’s people, the Israelites), whom God saw in her suffering, was Hagar. Sarah could not bear Abraham children and, instead of waiting longer on the promises of God, they took matters into their own hands. Sarah gave her Egyptian slave girl, Hagar, to Abraham as a surrogate. The Bible then goes on to say that Sarah mistreats Hagar, so Hagar runs away. God stops Hagar and says he has heard of her misery and he promises to take care of her. Then it says this in Genesis 16:13:
“She gave this name to the Lord who spoke to her: ‘You are the God who sees me,’ for she said, ‘I have now seen the One who sees me.’”
God saw Hagar first and then she saw him.
We serve a God who sees. He sees us right where we are: In our desperation, our affliction, our pain, and distress. He sees us in our trauma and in the aftermath of it. Though it might feel to us that he hides his face, “The eyes of the Lord run and fro throughout the whole earth, to give strong support to those whose heart is blameless toward him” (2 Chron. 16:9).
Jacob was chosen by God and yet God also saw a woman who was victimized by his sin and he chose her too. Sarah was chosen by God to bear the promised child for Abraham, but God did not overlook another woman who was a victim of Sarah’s sin. He is a defender of the weak and he always sees mistreatment. The Psalmist says,
“Arise, Lord! Lift up your hand, O God.
Do not forget the helpless.
Why does the wicked man revile God?
Why does he say to himself,
“He won’t call me to account”?
But you, God, see the trouble of the afflicted;
you consider their grief and take it in hand.
The victims commit themselves to you;
you are the helper of the fatherless.
You, Lord, hear the desire of the afflicted;
you encourage them, and you listen to their cry,
defending the fatherless and the oppressed,
so that mere earthly mortals
will never again strike terror.”(Ps. 10:12-14, 17-18)
It’s clear in Exodus, as God demonstrates his power through signs and wonders in Egypt, that he uses his power on behalf of the weak and the oppressed. He works for the victims. He is the God who sees, who hears, and who acts. He sees the poor and the homeless just as my son does. My son’s heartbeat for them is the same heartbeat of God’s. My son doesn’t look the other way, he looks straight at brokenness and is moved by it. God sees and is moved as well.
I entered motherhood with certain expectations. I thought I would be happier than I was, and I thought mothering would come more naturally and easily. I still loved being a mom, but I could tell God was using motherhood to change me — and sometimes that change was painful. Sometimes I came to the end of myself.
When I first had children, I heaped unnecessary burdens on myself, buying the lie that I had to do it all and be it all (and all the time). In my pride and guilt, I didn’t want to ask for help. God used the challenges of motherhood to expose my self-sufficiency in motherhood. The more children I had, and the more difficult behaviors that surfaced in them, I had a harder time keeping my mask of strength from falling off. This was part of God’s loving design for me (and for all mothers).
Part of our calling as moms is to embrace our dependence on God — to accept and admit our weaknesses and to lean into our human limitations with his help. Our weaknesses are where Christ meets us with even greater grace, power, and strength. We find true strength, as the apostle Paul says, when we are weak (2 Corinthians 12:10). A mother’s only hope is in a Savior who will be enough for us when we don’t feel like enough.
Read the rest at Desiring God >>
A flag went up in my head when I first noticed the anxious behavior of my two year old son. My husband and I prayed regularly with him concerning his fear and anxiety and taught him appropriate biblical truths and verses. But as time went on, I began to feel at a loss as a parent in the face of his anxious behavior.
So, I asked professionals for help. A behavioral scientist diagnosed him with separation anxiety and social anxiety the summer of 2019, and a few months later we began Cognitive Behavioural Therapy. This assistance gave me practical tools to help my son walk through his anxiety, and it helped him be more brave and face some of his fears.
Though his anxiety is unrelated to COVID, I’m sure many children during this pandemic have experienced fear and anxiety on some level — their typical way of life abruptly disrupted and the future uncertain. Many of the lessons I’m learning in my son’s struggle with anxiety can apply to children struggling with COVID. I’m no expert at offering advice in this arena, but I am a mom willing to share what I’ve learned so far.
- Engage the Emotions
Everyone, even with good intentions, can make mistakes. One that Christians often make, when it comes to fear and anxiety, is to give trite answers: “Trust God,” or “Don’t worry.” Of course, these statements are true, but can feel dismissive of real human emotion, and at times used as a way to avoid dealing with underlying issues. Most Christians are rightly concerned with the idea of truth informing our emotions, but we don’t always have to jump to the “truth part” right away. First, we should acknowledge, validate, and engage the emotions.
I try my best to acknowledge my son’s feelings of anxiety, then validate his feelings as real. When I try to engage my son’s emotions it’s typically in the form of questions, probing to figure out why he might be feeling this way and how it feels for him. This takes time. Sometimes, it doesn’t work to do all this in the moment of anxiety, but to wait and talk about it later.
If we can get our kids talking about their feelings, it will help them grow into emotionally mature adults who can cope with life in healthy ways. It will help strengthen their honesty and vulnerability with us, thereby creating a close relationship between parent and child, and all of this will connect in their relationship with God as they learn to identify their struggles and bring them to him. Lastly, engaging our children’s emotions will help them grow in compassion and empathy for others. They will learn to truly love their neighbor.
- Truth Telling
Fear and anxiety is often based on countless lies, which requires the need for speaking truth to those suffering with anxiety. But let’s also keep in mind that though there is a spiritual element at hand in anxiety, for many, it’s also mental and physical. We know the truth of scripture is powerful for our children, but truth telling can also look like rationalizing with our children in practical ways.
Recently, my son started exhibiting certain behaviors associated with his separation anxiety again. If he doesn’t see me for a minute, I hear a loud, “Mom?!” and sometimes the running of feet as he tries to find me. I eventually brought his actions to his attention, and I asked him to try something next time he doesn’t see me. I told him to stop and think first before he yells for me and tries to find me.
“Think about the usual places I go to in the house when you don’t see me: the laundry room, the bathroom, upstairs to grab something quickly. Then just wait a little longer until you see me again.”
Instead of jumping to conclusions or assuming the worst (which we’ve talked about in therapy), he’s learning to exercise self-control and speak truth or reality into his fears. Children (and adults) need to not only speak the truth of God’s Word into their fears, they also need to train themselves to speak practical, rational truths to themselves.
- Comfort, Compassion, and Patience
Being a mom of a child who suffers with chronic anxiety, I am still learning patience, compassion, and comfort. The story of God’s interactions with Gideon in the book of Judges has helped me see how I need to grow in my interactions with my son. When God calls Gideon to be Israel’s next judge and deliverer, God greets Gideon as a “mighty man of valor” (Judg. 6:12). But what we continually see of this man is fear and anxiety.
Gideon lists some excuses for why he can’t save Israel (Judg. 6:15), and even though God answers, “I’ll be with you,” Gideon then asks for a sign (Judg. 6:17). Once the sign confirms who this strange visitor is, Gideon finally believes, but then responds in fear (Judg. 6:25-27). The most remembered part of Gideon’s story is when he asks for the two signs from God with the fleece of wool (Judg. 6:36–40). Gideon is still not confident that God will use him to save Israel from the Midianites, so he needs tangible signs to prove God will do what he says.
God never calls out Gideon and says, “You need another sign? What’s wrong with you? Haven’t you learned yet? Don’t you know who I am?” Instead, he walks beside Gideon and shapes him into the mighty man of valor that he has declared him to be. He was patient with his need for signs, which brought Gideon comfort and reassurance. He gave Gideon the signs, even though He didn’t need to.
The phrase, “Do not fear” is repeated over and over in the Bible, because God knows fear is a natural part of our lives, until he makes a new world without the curse of fear in it. One day, we will be free of fear. One day, my son will be free of fear. Until then, I join in God’s work of making him a mighty man of valor.
My husband and I have had a tough year as parents—as I’m sure many other parents have too. Our two year old started to show more of her personality, which kept us all on our toes. Our middle son began displaying a new level of misbehavior that stopped my husband and I in our tracks and, at points, left us broken down in tears. The dynamic between all three of our children took a new turn we weren’t prepared for. And on top of that, COVID and the related restrictions brought an extra layer of stress. All of this has created new areas of tension in our marriage that we’re still trying to sort through.
I share this to underline that although I wrote a book on motherhood, I’m still very much living out the challenges and joys described within its pages. This is real life, and it’s the perfect place for our Savior to meet us and help us. The struggles of motherhood are fertile ground for the Holy Spirit to make us more like Christ. Here are just three ways he is so often at work in the hearts of moms.
Read the three ways here >>
Growing up in the Church I’ve always felt like marriage was mostly viewed through the lens of roles: the husband leads and the wife submits. A lot of times I would see the beautiful picture of Christ and his bride, the Church, being like marriage. These ideas are found in the pages of Scripture, and I’m not coming against them, but I do feel the need to shift the focus off of these idealized views that are overly promoted in the Church. Focusing too much on the picture of Christ and the Church, and roles in marriage, disregards the large number of marriages that are in pain.
I’ll never forget the older married lady in my church (whose husband didn’t come to Church with her) who reached out to me when she heard my marriage was struggling. We met up at Starbucks and she told me about the pain in her marriage. She shared her story with me about how she stayed married to her unbelieving husband, and how she had to cling to Christ as her spiritual husband. “I realized I had to push more into my relationship with Jesus.” These were words of wisdom from an older married woman who knew suffering. She saw that I was hurting and reached out to me. This is a beautiful picture of honoring marriage in the Church.
God’s Faithfulness When We Are Faithless
When God made his covenant with Noah, and then Abraham, and so on, he knew they would break it. God knew his people would continually break the covenant. But God remained true to himself and was faithful; so much so that he died in order to keep the covenant. He held up his end of the bargain well, and us, well, not so much. In the covenant of marriage both parties are faithless sinners, but we can honor marriage by looking to the faithful One who will help us stay faithful in the marriage covenant. We can look to his faithfulness even when we are faithless (or our spouse is faithless) and remember that God’s faithfulness now covers us (and our spouse) through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. He has atoned for our faithlessness in marriage. Even when we fail in marriage, we can bring it to Christ and our spouse, and rely on the Spirit to help us in our weakness.
Marriage can be a place of happiness and a place of sadness. Some marriages experience more of one than the other. The hardships vary in every season and over the years in every marriage, but everyone knows at some point that being married isn’t easy. For many it is a source of pain and suffering as well. The Church would do well to acknowledge this more publicly and privately. If we didn’t make talking about marriage struggles so “taboo,” then maybe more marriages would be helped. One of the best ways to honor marriage in the Church is to openly acknowledge the brokenness of it.
Read the rest at Speak For the Unborn >>
Ever heard of reaching your limit? As moms, we likely come to that place more times than we can count. When I was a first-time mom, I thought I should be able to do everything on my own: take care of my baby while also doing the dishes, cleaning, cooking, and keeping on top of the laundry pile. I even felt like it was wrong if I wanted to have a break from my child. It felt weak to ask for help. It showed my true state: that I wasn’t Supermom.
We have God designed limitations simply because we are created beings. We have to eat, we have to sleep, we get sick, and all of these experiences point to creaturely dependence. And yet there is something in us as human beings that wants to fight against this dependence, these limitations. Like Adam and Eve in the garden, we want to be like God. We want to do it all, and be it all, to everyone. We want to be strong and capable.
But, it’s good to remember that the Christian faith isn’t for those who are strong and good enough, but for those who are weak and foolish. As Paul explains in 1 Corinthians 1:27–29, “God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are, so that no human being might boast in the presence of God.”
We tend to forget that this portion of Scripture is referring to all of us—to all those called by God in Christ. He is building an army of weaklings to show his strength and power through us.
And God often uses the instrument of motherhood in our lives to humble us, to show us we are weak and foolish, finite and limited. Accepting these truths about our limited creatureliness and God’s infinite power is the key to our rest in Christ as mothers. Jesus said, “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light” (Matt. 11:23–30).
When we learn the lowliness and humility of Christ, it will bring us rest. Some of our burdens and weariness can be rooted in pride when we think we can be like God in ways that are reserved only for him. Also, many of the burdens we put on ourselves as mothers are ones we don’t have to bear—burdens that are not put on us by the law of God, but through extra man-made laws put on us by the culture in the world and certain expectations in the church. Jesus invites us to cast them off and learn the humility of dependence from him.
Read the rest at Risen Motherhood >>
So, basically now until the official book release it’s all marketing and promotion.
The marketing manager and I will be working on setting up a Facebook launch team. If anyone is on FB and interested in being apart, please let me know. It would involve helping share links on social media (which we would provide and give direction for), writing a review on Amazon and Good Reads. There will also be many book and gift card giveaways in the group, and also a live Q and A with me.
You will receive a free e-copy, but only the first 25 to apply will receive a free hard copy.
If anyone is interested in applying to be part of the team, please let me know by the end of December and by clicking on my contact page and sending me a message.
Thank you for all your reading over the years. It means so much to me.
I don’t typically put up posts about updates, but I am today! This blog has honestly turned more into a site to store the writing I began doing on other outlets over the years. But even those types of posts I haven’t put up in about a year. I stopped writing for other outlets to focus on a book.
Last year I got a book deal with The Good Book Company, and since last September until this past month I was working on writing and editing (with my editor). But I am overjoyed to say that the manuscript is completed (except for the final stage with the proofreader). Now we’ll be working on plans for promotion until it releases sometime in the new year.
I’ve had an email database of supporters (just supporting through prayer and feedback) over the last 2-3 years of this long process to get a book deal and see it through to the end. If any of my subscribers/followers on here would like to be included in that group of supporters, please send me your name and email on my contact form.
The book is about how motherhood brings us to the end of ourselves in order that we might throw ourselves at the Savior’s feet. Thank you so much for supporting my writing thus far.
The other day, I saw a text graphic on Facebook that contained these words: “Fear has no place in the life of a believer.” The caption explained that if we truly know we are eternally loved, fear should not be part of our lives. A pastor posted this. Another time, in a Bible study setting, I heard a pastor’s wife talk about doing a shooter drill at her children’s school (also her place of employment) and how as a believer she was full of peace, but her unbelieving co-worker was wrought with fear. Her comment after sharing the story was similar to the text graphic: she didn’t have any fear about the situation, because she was a believer.
Scripture Acknowledges Our Fear
These two examples show that, especially in the Church, fear and anxiety are still stigmatized. Yes, all over Scripture we hear, “do not fear,” but it’s said with the expectation that we will fear (Ps. 56:3). It’s a natural human experience. God knows this, and Jesus was familiar with it. When Jesus calmed the storm for His disciples, He did tell them they had small faith, but He also never denied the severity and danger of the storm. Peter had “little faith” because he believed the danger of the storm was stronger than the power of Jesus. And we can’t forget the overall context of this scenario: Jesus was always using these situations (signs and miracles) to point to His even greater spiritual power over the curse of sin and death. He was always pointing to His death and resurrection.
In fact, I believe it can be argued that Jesus Himself experienced fear and anxiety (yet without any taint of sin) in the Garden of Gethsemane (Luke 22:39–46). He sweat blood and tears. He had to have been anxious and in great turmoil on the night before He died, knowing what was ahead of Him. And yet, we see in the midst of His anxiety, Jesus shows us that we must pray as He did.
There is much to fear in this life. The Bible never negates this but always assumes it. I believe fear will always be a part of a believer’s life (though some will battle it worse than others). This is because of the curse and because we are made of dust (Ps. 103:14). Jesus is fully capable of delivering us from our fear and anxiety, and many of us might have a testimony of Him doing that, but the only full victory that Jesus promises us in this life is victory over the consequences and power of our sin through the gospel. There is no “name it and claim it” in Scripture for complete deliverance from fear and anxiety in this life; that is a promise we can only claim for the life to come.
A Valley Path to Growth in Our Fear
Anxiety is close to home for me. In fact, it’s right under my roof. Though I’m not typically an anxious person, I’ve had my own dark season of anxiety. And my husband has struggled with it on a sometimes daily basis—even to the point where it has affected our home and marriage. Like his dad, my firstborn son struggles with anxiety. I began to notice strange behavior from him even as a toddler and preschooler. My son’s anxiety affected me. It limited me. At the time, I didn’t realize that not all moms have to work through these types of behaviors with their children. Though I’ve seen tremendous growth in him for the past eight months, anxiety can still lurk on the edges of his life.
There are many ways to handle anxiety. Different methods work for different people. Some need medication, some find counseling or therapy helpful, and some get help through other types of managing techniques. While all of these options are helpful, and necessary for some people, there is a spiritual foundation that must be in place (even while seeking professional help). The anxious heart and mind must be anchored in the rock of God’s Word. No matter what our circumstances, the Bible offers hope for us in our anxiety.
Read the rest here >>
“Know thyself.” The ancient Greek maxim holds some truth to it. Though there is such a thing as morbid introspection, knowing ourselves can be crucial for the believer in Christ. We mainly find out about ourselves through reading Scripture, which acquaints us with our sinful nature and helps us get to know the character of God, but we can also get to know ourselves by taking time to process our thoughts and feelings. There is such a thing as healthy self-reflection and assessment in light of the grace found in Christ. If self-reflection and assessment leads to increased knowledge of God, and if it leads to a deeper love for and a closer relationship with Christ, then it’s healthy.
Leave Room for Silence and Reflection
Our culture, in general, is busy and fast-paced. We tend to overschedule and pack in as much as we can in our lives for various reasons—success, money, fame, anxiety, etc. We don’t leave enough room for silence, for the stillness and quiet to invade us and show us ourselves and the Word of God applied to our lives. God can still work in our lives during busyness, but we must fight against intentionally crowding him out due to idols of the heart. One way we can stop the madness and invite the stillness is through the arts: stopping to do something with our hands; laboring to make something beautiful—whether a loaf of bread, a painting, or a knit hat; taking a walk with a camera in hand; or carving out time to sit down and write, whether that be formal writing on a laptop or informal writing in a personal journal.
God created us to process. And we do a disservice to ourselves when we zoom past that and ignore or bury our feelings instead of acknowledging them and working through them. Our emotions are a gift from God and designed by Him as a signpost for us. We don’t need to be scared of emotions or automatically assume they are all sinful. But we do need to make sure that the Word of Truth is always our foundation and use it to test our thoughts and feelings. The end goal of acknowledging and processing our thoughts and feelings is always to love God and neighbor more. It’s not ultimately about our self-fulfillment or self-actualization, and it’s not at all about self-glorification. We process in order to understand and help ourselves, so we can then love others better. The end result must always be doing the right thing in accordance with Scripture; the end fruit is always virtue. And spiritual rest is another added bonus.
Follow the Psalmists’ Example
The arts can be one vehicle of providing rest through helping us process life, emotions, human experience, and even the truths of Scripture. We see a prime example of this from King David.
Read the rest at Revive our Hearts >>
As I scroll through Facebook, I see blog posts for potty training your toddler over the weekend, how to get your kids to listen, and how to get your kids to eat right. I read one post that tells moms to cloth diaper their babies and feed them homemade pureed food, then I click over to another blog telling me to manage my kids’ screen time and get them to eat their veggies.
Moms are inundated with advice and opinions (some unsolicited) in real life and on the internet. There is no shortage of mommy blogs and parenting books. But what if I told you none of that matter as much as one thing? The Word of God. A steady diet of Scripture will change how we mother, while simultaneously being the foundation for our mothering. The Word of God trains mother and child alike.
Read the rest here >>
Darkness came with a bite of fruit. It traveled on to the murder of a brother, the stealing of a brother’s birthright, and the selling of a brother as a slave. The darkness was there when a king, a man after God’s own heart, committed adultery and murder. It’s always been there hovering over our heads, staining our hands, and nipping at our heels. It’s the shadow that follows us when we do good and bad.
It’s fitting then that the Light of the World had to experience the full breadth of darkness. The darkness of misunderstanding, of mocking, of sickness and fatigue. The darkness of manipulation, betrayal, and abuse. The darkness of abandonment and denial. And finally, “when the sixth hour had come, there was darkness over the whole land until the ninth hour. And at the ninth hour Jesus cried with a loud voice, ‘Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachthani?’ which means, ‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’” (Mark 15:33-34). Jesus experienced a darkness we never have: the full wrath of God for the sins of the world.
As his body lay limp and lifeless, Jesus was then laid in a tomb. He experienced the darkness of the grave. The cold, the damp, closed up, shut in, and trapped in the void. Jesus can feel our pain, he can feel our darkness. He knows our sadness, our burdens, our wounds. Until we’ve walked through the depth of night, we can’t understand how glorious it is to be bathed in the white light of day.
A wind came up out of the sea,
And said, “O mists, make room for me.”
It hailed the ships, and cried, “Sail on,
Ye mariners, the night is gone.”
And hurried landward far away,
Crying, “Awake! it is the day.”
When the sun rose on that third day after Jesus’ death, it ushered in the hope of resurrection. The light of life could not stay in darkness; he vanquished it. It was like every other day, but so unlike every other day. Every sunrise gives us new hope and mercies for each day–a new start, a new beginning. The rays piercing through the horizon are a sign of victory: darkness is not permanent; the light of the sun has not left us forever. This was like the sunrise of the first Easter Sunday, and yet, it was more. The sunrise on this day was a testament of the divinity of Jesus and his power over eternal death.
It said unto the forest, “Shout!
Hang all your leafy banners out!”
It touched the wood-bird’s folded wing,
And said, “O bird, awake and sing.”
And o’er the farms, “O chanticleer,
Your clarion blow; the day is near.”
It whispered to the fields of corn,
“Bow down, and hail the coming morn.”
The physical reality of the hope in a sunrise is now a spiritual reality in the person of Jesus Christ. We know for sure that God has power over darkness. No pit is too deep, no grave too wide, no night too dark. Like David said, “If I make my bed in Sheol, you are there!” (Ps.139:8b) And he continues, “If I say, ‘Surely the darkness shall cover me, and the light about me be night,’ even the darkness is not dark to you; the night is bright as the day, for darkness is as light with you” (Ps.139:11-12).
It shouted through the belfry-tower,
“Awake, O bell! proclaim the hour.”
It crossed the churchyard with a sigh,
And said, “Not yet! in quiet lie.”
Daybreak, by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
And yet we wait. We wait to see the full revelation of these resurrection truths. Though our souls will be with him, our bodies have yet to be raised as his. But at that final daybreak, that last sunrise of hope, our bodies will escape the cold, damp darkness of earth forever and be raised to life and power. Not yet. But Christ’s resurrection tells us the sun will come back. Of this, we can be certain.
Where we start matters. We don’t read a book from end to beginning. We don’t make our bed after we get into it, but once we get out of it. We don’t put on our socks over our shoes. Almost everything we do without thinking has a logical order to it. Some things don’t work as well when done backwards. Likewise, how we view the Bible matters. We can tend to have a backwards perspective when we approach the Word of God. So, where we start in our approach towards Scripture reading affects us.
So, where do we begin? The same place the Bible begins: “In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth” (Gen. 1:1). In the beginning God. Everything began with him. Many of us don’t think of the Bible as a book primarily about God. We think of it only as a book for us, like a how-to manual for life, a handbook of rules, or a self-help guide to personal growth. In fact, there are many of those elements found in the Bible and, yes, the Bible is for us. But when our primary perspective of the Bible is about us, and our personal felt needs, then we underestimate its power to change us.
Our view of Scripture can sometimes be like Moses at the burning bush. After God reveals himself to Moses in such a spectacular way, Moses replies, “Who am I that I should go to Pharaoh and bring the children of Israel out of Egypt?” (Ex. 3:11). God tells Moses that he will be with him, but Moses still brings the attention back to himself, “Moses said to God, ‘Suppose I go to the Israelites and say to them, “The God of your fathers has sent me to you,” and they ask me, “What is his name?” Then what shall I tell them?’ ” (Ex. 3:13). God then tells Moses who he is, what he has done, and what he will do (Ex. 3:14-22).
In her book, Women of the Word: How to Study the Bible with Both Our Hearts and Our Minds, Jen Wilkin comments on this portion of Scripture, saying that Moses is asking the wrong questions: Who am I? What should I do? But instead, says Wilkin, God responds by completely removing Moses out of the discussion and placing himself at the center. Wilkin says,
We are like Moses. The Bible is our burning bush–a faithful declaration of the presence and holiness of God. We ask it to tell us about ourselves, and all the while it is telling us about ‘I AM’.
All of Scripture is a revelation of God, and his revelation of himself is exactly what we need for all of life. Our how-to is God, our rulebook is God, and our self-help guide is God. When we see God rightly, we’ll see ourselves rightly. Our knowledge of God should lead to a better knowledge of self. He is our starting place. He is the lens we look through at our own lives and hearts. Beholding God first changes our view of ourselves, it then humbles us to the point of change.
Asking the right question first is key in our approach to the Bible. Wilkin suggests first asking, “What does this passage teach me about God? before we ask it to teach us anything about ourselves.” Approaching Scripture as a book primarily about God’s revelation of himself puts me in a better place to see myself accurately and respond appropriately. For instance, when I struggle to love and forgive someone who has wronged me, I can read about how God is slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love (Ps. 145:8), I can read about how Jesus tells us to love those who hurt us (Matt. 5:39-44) and see in Scripture how Jesus lived this truth out himself (Luke 23:24). Reading those truths about who God is helps me see how short I fall from his holy attributes, which places me in a humble position to repent of my sin, ask for his help, and seek to love when it’s hard.
Seeking to see God first in Scripture also trains us to be better recipients of his grace. Because looking first to the one who is the source of our power and strength gives us hope for change. When we put ourselves first in reading Scripture, we tend to make ourselves the source for change in our lives, and this could lead to either condemnation or a works-based approach to righteousness. Seeing God first in Scripture makes all the difference in effecting change in our lives. Starting with ourselves can leave us hopeless, but putting God first in our view of Scripture makes us hopeful. Because with him there is forgiveness, that he may be feared (Ps. 130:4). With him there is peace, joy, and love, and at his right hand are pleasures forevermore (Ps. 16:11). He is great and greatly to be praised (Ps. 96:4).
Why would we be like Moses and look at ourselves when we’re seeing a miracle? Instead, the revelations of God should make us look upwards first, then we can have the grace to look inward. Knowing who God is is the best place to start, and it makes all the difference.
This originally appeared on Morning by Morning.