covenant promises

A Glorious Inheritance

NIKKI BONHAM | GUEST Our family is in the middle of a move. Again. But only across town this time. The house we’ve been living in had been sitting empty for years when we moved in, and it had major maintenance issues, which we won’t miss. The new house was recently built, so I’m thankful to leave behind the leaky pipes, mold, and broken floors. But my favorite part of the new place is the view. It overlooks the Colombian countryside, and I am convinced that a few minutes on the back porch with a strong cup of Colombian coffee will cure almost anything that ails you. But apart from the view, the biggest difference between the two has been the shift from living in a house that had been left empty and deteriorating to one where every detail of the construction and maintenance has been painstakingly considered. Our previous landlord had been ready to rid himself of the burden for years. Our new landlord built the house himself and put his literal blood, sweat, and tears into its completion. The difference is striking. And there’s only one reason for it; the new landlord is guarding and maintaining his own inheritance. Someone Else’s Inheritance On our first visit to the house, the owner proudly pointed out each tiny detail. My husband commented, “I can tell that your whole heart has gone into this project.” “Well, it’s my father’s land,” the owner told us, “But he let me build on it now. He’s already promised me this portion. I’ve given all I have to this house. But it’s our future, so it’s worth it.” Moving into a home that is someone else’s literal inheritance comes with a little extra pressure, especially with a house full of boys. Every day I think, “There is no way we are giving this house back in the same condition we received it.” But mostly, it feels like yet another gospel image the Lord has built around me for me to live in (literally, this time!) that lifts my eyes to the greater reality of what He is doing on an eternal scale. As I sit on this porch and drink my coffee in someone else’s future inheritance, I am reminded of the covenant promises of inheritance that are already mine in Christ...

A Glorious InheritanceChristina Fox2023-12-18T15:03:59+00:00

Advent Devotional: Micah 5:2

BARBARANNE KELLY | CONTRIBUTOR But you, O Bethlehem Ephrathah, who are too little to be among the clans of Judah, from you shall come forth for me one who is to be ruler in Israel, whose coming forth is from of old, from ancient days. — Micah 5:2 Do you ever get lost while traveling, and need to stop to ask for directions? It’s tempting to read the journey of the wise men in the Gospel of Matthew in terms of the logistics of pre-modern travel. The wise men’s astronomical GPS (the star) led them to the region of Judea, but to find their specific destination they needed to ask the local folks—road signs and maps to the birthplace of the Messiah not yet in existence. However, when Micah prophesied the birthplace of the Messiah centuries before the fact, the Lord was revealing far more than a location on a map for the sake of future travelers. Micah 5:2, speaks a word of hope to despairing people lost in their sins. This word of hope is a single signpost among many for lost and weary sinners, pointing the way to the birth of Christ. And the road to Bethlehem, joining other roads to become a highway of God’s covenant faithfulness, began in God’s covenant promise to David, a promise of peace and rest that would be achieved by the son of David whose kingdom would be established forever (2 Sam. 7:12–13). Though there were good kings among the sons of David, even the best of them were only fallen men. The few who were faithful could not undo the wickedness of those who had been unfaithful. Of all the kings of Judah, not one lived up to the promise of David’s greater son (1 Chron. 17:1–14). By Micah’s day, the judgment of the Lord was poised to strike because of the faithlessness of God’s people; they would soon be overcome by their enemies and hauled off to exile in a foreign country. And yet, even as prophecies of fearsome destruction flow from his lips, Micah breaks to speak of one who will be born in Bethlehem “who is to be ruler in Israel.” Who could this be but the promised son of David? When he says this ruler’s “coming forth is from of old, from ancient days,” he is certainly recalling the multitude of prophecies already made concerning David’s greater son, for this ruler “shall stand and shepherd his flock in the strength of the Lord,” (4; cf. 2 Sam. 5:2)...

Advent Devotional: Micah 5:2Christina Fox2023-12-01T14:34:57+00:00

Covenant With a Cranky Woman

SUSAN TYNER|CONTRIBUTOR Do you tend to avoid cranky people? Go out of your way to avoid the teen who just got grounded or an exhausted coworker who started her day by stepping on a Lego? But what if I am the cranky one? I can’t escape me. Sure, I have tricks up my sleeve to stuff my frustrations so I can function at work. I can fix a smile during lunches with friends so I do not hint at the dark musings of my heart. However, my guard drops back at home and my crankiness is more obvious as I bang dinner dishes, yell “shut up” to the dogs, or give the silent treatment to my family. I see them avoid me, and I wish I could escape from my cranky self, too. I wonder if Naomi felt the same way. In the Book of Ruth we see Naomi’s story unfold. Her family left Bethlehem and went to Moab in search of bread, and though they found actual bread, they did not find what they really went for: health and life. Ten years later, Naomi’s husband and boys are dead, and she is left alone except for her two Moabite daughters-in-law, Ruth and Orpah. A widow without male protection doesn’t have many options. She hears the famine back home is over and returns, her daughter-in-law Ruth in tow. They arrive back in Bethlehem, and Naomi tells her hometown friends, “I went out full, and the LORD has brought me home again empty. Don’t call me by my old name, Naomi (“pleasant”) but call me Mara (“bitter”).” Empty. Bitter. Maybe even a little cranky? In chapter 2, Naomi comes across almost numb and depressed when Ruth goes to find work in the fields. Only when Ruth mentions the name Boaz do we see a spark as Naomi responds, “blessed be he of the LORD, who has not forsaken His kindness to the living and the dead” (Ruth 2:20). By the end of the story, we see Boaz taking both widows into his family and Naomi holding a grandbaby. But even though the writer does not explicitly say it, the real hero is God, not Boaz. We as the audience see what was happening all along. God was sticking close to Naomi because she was part of His family. Another way to describe His loving-kindness is with the term covenant, a solemn promise that God would never leave His children, His sheep. Covenant even with the cranky. In the flock of God, Naomi was a cranky sheep and God kept His covenant with her anyway. Sometimes you and I are cranky sheep, too. Perhaps our losses of dreams, expectations, or loved ones leave us dry and brittle. Or maybe we look up one day, and we are far from the community of God’s people and don’t like how our cynicism compares with their contentment. We wonder if God wants to avoid us because we are really not that fun to be around. Thankfully, God doesn’t keep His covenant promises only to the happy faces, the productive hands, and the hearts that sing with VBS vigor, “I’ve got the joy, joy, joy, joy down in my heart.” He sticks with cranky women too—the women out of energy to pray; women bitter from hard work and empty bank accounts; and women haunted by mistakes that can’t be undone. Where do I go if I’m cranky?...

Covenant With a Cranky WomanChristina Fox2022-05-04T22:59:31+00:00