Gospel

Treasure in Jars of Clay

KIM CHURCH | GUEST It was science experiment day. My kids were buzzing with excitement about what they would get to do and see for this week’s experiment. As we opened our garage door that morning, we were welcomed by the equatorial sun and heat of the dry season in Uganda. With too many helping hands, we got our experiment ready to go. I made sure everyone’s eyes were on the set-up because we had one shot at this. I didn’t have extra supplies, and we didn’t have the ability to get more. I counted down… three, two, one. Just as I let go of the clip that would set the reaction in motion, there was loud banging and shouting at the gate to our compound. We all instinctively looked out the garage door to see my neighbor happily banging on my gate as she greeted us. Almost as quickly as we looked away, we looked back at the experiment to see that we had missed the entire split-second reaction. I instantly felt anger rising from deep within me towards my neighbor. I struggled to find the patience I needed to navigate my three crying children because they didn’t really understand why I couldn’t just do it again so they could see it. My neighbor continued banging on my gate expecting me to come let her in so she could visit. Again. Just like she had done the day before. And the day before that. And most days for the past 2 months. I went to the gate and begrudgingly let her in without properly greeting her because I was fuming, and I wanted her to know how much she inconvenienced me that morning. I went to get my husband to entertain her because I still had a garage of disappointed children that needed my attention. My husband, unaware of the science experiment mishap, warmly greeted her and welcomed her into our home. My anger was just about to explode like a pressure cooker that ran out of water, and I knew I needed to get out of there. I made a beeline for my bedroom at the back of the house and somehow managed to not slam my door and throw things around like I so desperately felt like doing. Like the self-controlled adult I tried to convince myself I was, I took deep breaths for several minutes as I regained my composure. When I felt like I had released enough pressure, I went back out to the front of the house where my husband and my neighbor were freely bantering back and forth. I sat down like a pouting child and refused to participate in the conversation. Sensing my frustration, my husband skillfully brought the visit to an end a short time later...

Treasure in Jars of ClayChristina Fox2023-09-07T13:48:08+00:00

The Passion of Our Savior

SUE HARRIS|CONTRIBUTOR I hate the sight of blood. I have a weak stomach and often must turn away from the gruesome. News flash: don’t ever call me to administer first aid. I simply can’t handle it. Jesus’ crucifixion is no exception. I remember watching the Passion of the Christ in the theater twenty years ago. This movie follows the last week of Jesus’ life, the Via Dolorosa (the sorrowful way or journey). Passion week. The road to the cross. It was bloody. It was difficult and, if I’m honest, it was exhausting. I had to look away in a few scenes. Jesus was beaten, bloodied, mocked, unclothed, and spit upon. I had been a Christian a number of years and knew the story: Jesus died on the cross for my sins. I even knew many of the details like the crown of thorns, the scourging, and the striking of his face, but I had never actually seen a dramatization like the film depicted. I often work in my yard and when I’m working around thorns, I wear heavy-duty gloves and long sleeves to prevent thorns from tearing up my hands and arms. Thorns don’t just scratch your skin; they imbed themselves into your flesh, going deeper and deeper. And they inflict more pain when you try to pull them out. It’s dreadful imagining thorns in the shape of a crown being forced onto the head of my Savior. Watching the scourging on screen was stomach-turning. Jesus was more than simply whipped, as if that wasn’t enough. In a scourging, the whip has sharp tips attached to the end that are made to dig into human skin. The flesh on Jesus’ back was literally ripped apart. And if that wasn’t enough, men struck him in the face. I have never been punched in the face, but my perfect Redeemer was. Time after time after time. Watching this on the big screen gave me a dramatic view into what happened that day. I can only assume that it was, truthfully, worse. I cried, of course, and I wondered, “Why did Jesus have to die this kind of death?”...

The Passion of Our SaviorChristina Fox2023-08-15T13:38:52+00:00

Sometimes Efficiency Is Overrated

KIM BARNES|GUEST In my yard lay a stack of firewood that needed to be relocated. We recently purchased a fancy red wheelbarrow. It was strong and sturdy and perfect for the job at hand. I put on a pair of work gloves, grabbed a piece of wood in each hand, walked across my yard, and dropped the wood in the new location. My fancy wheelbarrow remained untouched while I made 40-50 trips carrying two pieces of wood at a time until all the wood was moved and neatly stacked. What was the point of doing this job the hard way? It was not an efficient way to complete the task. Anyone could see that it made much more sense to load up my brand-new wheelbarrow with wood and get the pile moved in 3 or 4 trips. But here’s the thing. Moving the pile of wood wasn’t my only goal. In an effort to improve my physical fitness, I was on a mission to log at least 10,000 steps per day. In service of that mission, I looked for things to do that would enable me to log steps while also accomplishing something. I parked far away from the entrance to the grocery store. I walked up my longish driveway to get the mail, even when I knew I’d be leaving soon for an errand and could just pick it up on my way out. I took the stairs instead of the elevator. Efficiency is great when you need to make thousands of cars or grow acres of food. But sometimes efficiency gets in the way of the greater mission...

Sometimes Efficiency Is OverratedChristina Fox2023-03-24T17:46:30+00:00

A Desperate Saint

SUSAN TYNER|CONTRIBUTOR A desperate woman can do some crazy stuff. Like tricking your father-in-law to sleep with you to get pregnant. I’m not sure if you’ve ever been that desperate, but let me introduce you to someone who was. Tamar was stuck . . . desperate. (Genesis 38). Tamar was a Canaanite who married into Judah’s family, a family who belonged to the God of Israel. But, when Tamar’s husband died as a judgment for his evil behavior, she was left without a secure future. Thankfully, God provided a practice for widows stuck in this position. The next son in line was to marry the widow and father an heir for the dead brother and his widow, thus ensuring the dead husband a line as well as provision for the widow. Judah, as head of a God-fearing family, told his second son Onan to do the honors. But Onan didn’t like the idea of his son being considered his brother’s, and Onan weaseled out of his duty at the last minute. God judged him as well. Judah’s second son died. And although their deaths were not her fault, Tamar got the blame. Tamar became a “bad luck bride.” By this point Judah probably felt desperate, too. He was down to his third and last son. What about his dreams for an heir, a name, a future? Judah decided to buy some time. He sent her back to her parents’ tent with the promise of his youngest son once he grew up. Maybe he hoped she would just recede back into her Canaanite tribe, taking her bad luck streak with her. But Tamar was patient, and she must have valued belonging to this family (and perhaps their God?) enough to wait. However, when she saw Judah’s last son had become a man and yet not given to her as promised, she took matters into her own hands. She disguised herself as a prostitute, waited for Judah on the side of a road, and let him hire her services. Three months later, Judah heard his daughter-in-law had “played the harlot” and was pregnant. How dare she! Judah judged Tamar and declared she should be punished by fire. Thankfully, Tamar was as smart as she was desperate. She produced Judah’s identifying cord, staff, and signet she’d kept as a deposit for his sex payment. Convicted of his wrong, he admitted Tamar was “more righteous than I.” Her desperate – and to our way of thinking, plain out crazy – plan forever put Tamar in Judah’s family tree. But I doubt Tamar realized just how much a part of God’s family she’d become. Not only did Tamar get pregnant, she had twin boys. Their birth was so legendary, generations later Tamar’s daring story became an Israelite blessing when Boaz marries Ruth, another Canaanite who married an Israelite...

A Desperate SaintChristina Fox2023-03-24T18:20:35+00:00

Our Savior’s Moment by Moment Intercession

SUE HARRIS|CONTRIBUTOR I took some time recently to pray for some of the ministry leaders in my church. I’m not trying to sound super-spiritual. Honestly, I should do this more often since the Holy Spirit is the one who actually does the work of the church. Anyway, I was overwhelmed with how long it took me to pray for each of those leaders by name. For some, I knew what to pray…but not all. I mean, these are women with lives and needs and pains and desires. I only know some details and, frankly, many of the women I had no idea what to pray about for them. Sometimes I just uttered their names, trusting that Romans 8:26 is true and that the Spirit does indeed intercede for those “unspoken” needs. Jesus’ Intercession for Us We’ve probably all grown accustomed to identifying the last calendar year as strange, different, or even uncertain. We are all grieving in different ways and facing various challenges in our lives. But I am reminded that regardless of who is surrounding our tables and what lies ahead, we have One who is making intercession for us, who knows what loneliness and grief feels like. We talk a lot about what Jesus accomplished on our behalf in our adoption and justification, and that’s extremely important. But we don’t often think about what he is doing today…like right now in this very moment. If Jesus completed his task on the cross and subsequent resurrection, what fills his schedule now? What is he doing? More specifically: what has been left undone? Scripture tells us that he always lives to make intercession for us (Heb. 7:25). Like in the prayer time I mentioned, I know that I can only pray for one person or situation at a time and even that becomes burdensome, but not for our Savior. He is not overwhelmed. Somehow, while he is seated at the right hand of the throne of the God, he is talking about each believer to our Father. He knows it all. He knows every life, every need, every pain, every failure, and every desire. He knows us. How does it make you feel to know that the King of Kings is praying for you right now? It drenches me with love...

Our Savior’s Moment by Moment IntercessionChristina Fox2022-05-04T23:14:23+00:00

We Are Not Better Than This

JILL WIGGINS|GUEST Earlier this month, I witnessed the assault on our nation’s Capitol with incredulity. In the aftermath, I found myself consuming copious amounts of media examining responses from political leaders, pastors, and news sources. It did not take long before a myriad of politicians from both parties adopted the familiar phrase often uttered by parents and teachers alike to children whose behavior has been disappointing— “We are better than this.'' Although I understand the sentiment and its guilt-eliciting, behavior-changing appeal, I would respectfully and broken heartedly disagree with their proclamation. We as Christians should be the first to point out that “we are not better than this.” I spent the better part of my teenage years thinking that I was “better than this.” I grew up in a small Baptist church in northeast Alabama and our offering envelopes came preprinted on the front with a variety of boxes to check. There was a box for attendance, daily bible reading, offering, and lesson preparation. Every Sunday night at youth group, my goal was to very literally turn in an envelope that checked all the boxes, because along with not drinking, smoking, cussing, or fooling around with boys, that was what “Good Christians” did. In the years since, the list has become more political in nature, but the sentiment is the same. Then and now, there are boxes to check, issues to support, causes to champion. These are things that Christians do. . . and those are things Christians do not do. Though not overtly stated, I perceived that there was “us” and there was “them.” We were good “box-checking” Christians, and “they” were dirty, bad, vile, worldly, sinners. Yet, one Sunday night, the summer following my senior year of high school, I found myself face down on the hook rug on the floor of my bedroom, crying out to God. I realized that I was one of “them.” I was dirty, bad, vile, and worldly. For all my box checking, I was a fraud. A pit formed in my stomach, and I believed that if everyone knew just how really bad I was, how dirty I felt on the inside, no one would ever love me. And that’s when I met Jesus. After all, we must first see the sin in ourselves to grasp the wonder of God’s grace. Paul in his letter to Timothy states that “Christ came into the world to save sinners of whom I am foremost” (1 Tim. 1:15). Present tense. Jesus came into the world to save sinners like me. Sinners. Like me. And that is the good news. That is the gospel. That is grace...

We Are Not Better Than ThisChristina Fox2022-05-04T23:37:26+00:00