Hey Jesus, your sacrifice was wasted

I’m angry today. I’m frustrated. I’m hurt. I’m feeling overwhelmed and a little beat down. More than all that, I’m feeling a sense of resignation. Like giving up.

On what…you might ask…

On us.

I was on radio yesterday for 3 hours and story after story, caller after caller had the same situation. Someone in their life has basically looked Jesus in the eyes and said, “Hey, Jesus, your sacrifice was wasted on me. That whole ‘full life’ thing you talked about…nah, I’ll pass.”

Rather than resolve to live in humility, under God’s sovereign wing, surrendering to what he may be calling us to, we’ve allowed ourselves to fall into a dull, mediocre life justified with Scripture, rationalized with the realities of life’s difficulties, medicated with sex, money, alcohol, entertainment, sports and even church. We succumb to the gravitational pull towards brokenness, revenge, entitlement, greed, selfishness and perhaps worst of all, mediocrity.

I just can’t get my head around that Jesus came to earth, was beaten, abused, rejected, kicked out of his hometown, insulted, ridiculed and then murdered. For us. How many times during his life, especially in the 3yr period of his main ministry, did he think about cashing it in? So much easier to have been a fisherman. Or a tax collector. Or a pharisee. Anything other than following God’s call. Anything other than the way of pain and persecution.

But he didn’t give up. He didn’t resign. He didn’t give excuses for why it was too hard. He didn’t sit around pointing the finger at others, complaining about Peter being a hothead or Thomas being a whiner. He didn’t spend his time playing the victim card, trying to make some psychobabble justification for a mediocre life today based upon the fact that his parents forgot about him as a kid. He just, as best I can tell, woke up each day, looked it in the face, and adopted a posture of willingness to be led by the Spirit and committment to faithfully following the Father. He didn’t give up on me. Or you.

So I can’t resign or give up either. Because He didn’t. Hopefully, if you’re struggling with resignation, you won’t let it win the day. If nothing else, as an act of worship and a response to the model before us. Maybe today you decide to stop letting the past define your present, and ripoff your future. Perhaps today you decide to own your junk, and apologize to the people whom you love and have hurt the most. Maybe today you decide that it doesn’t matter whose fault it is, but you’ll be the one to take the first step towards fixing it. I hope so.


Strangely enough, after I sat down to write today, I saw Shelley’s latest post. I wanted you to see it too. Turns out we’re channeling the same wavelength – https://rlforwomen.com/whats-breaking-my-heart-today/

The Conclusion of Love

I’m glad to be wrapping this up! Let’s jump right in.

Love does not delight in evil. The verse characterizes evil as unrighteousness of heart and life. It means that true love does not delight in someone’s misfortune or disgrace. You ever have those moments where you hear, perhaps even second-hand, about someone’s misfortune and there’s a sick little enjoyment that you get out of it? No? Oh, me neither.

Loving well means taking no pleasure in someone else’s difficulties. Further, love rejoices with the truth. It is to be delighted when truth is spoken, even sometimes when the truth hurts.

Here’s how this plays out at my house. Shelley is pretty meticulous, and manages life by files. I, on the other hand, manage life by piles. I forget things, misplace things, and often my mistakes will negatively impact her. She has become TREMENDOUSLY gracious about these things, yet sometimes still gets pretty frustrated with me. When she gets this way, I feel stupid because I’ve made a mistake, and incompetent because I can’t seem to stop making silly mistakes. Here’s the catch; every once in a while Shelley makes a silly mistake too. Minor things, you know, like forgetting to pick up a neighbor’s 2nd grader after school. Then I’m faced with a choice. I can rub it in and remind her that she’s not perfect, so she shouldn’t expect me to be perfect. Or I can engage empathy and help her navigate the embarrassment and shame of her mistake. Pretty clear at this point what Love does, right?

This leads to the first of the “all” or “always” verses depending on translation. In effect, these ‘always’ statements are summaries of what has already been said. I wonder why Paul felt it important to restate them in this way?

Love always protects tops the list. In the scenario above, to love Shelley would be to protect her from further embarrassment, to empathize with her out of my own mistakes, and to shield her from any ongoing shame from someone else or even from herself.

Next, love always trusts. The connotation here is, in an ethical sense, to have confidence in the goodness of man. I appreciate this. My friend Paul was recently talking about this and it rang true for me. He said sometimes when he sees people driving crazy and being dangerous in traffic, rather than write them off and label them as reckless, he assumes they have a good reason for it. Maybe they are late for a funeral or their wife is going into labor. Perhaps they’re trying to get to the most important job interview of their life. Love, always trusting, assumes the best, not the worst in people.

Love always hopes and endures or perseveres. To always hope means to hold out for the best possible to outcome. It means not jumping to conclusions but instead waiting for the final verdict. Innocent until proven guilty. And to endure simply means to be patient and longsuffering, especially under pressure. This circles back directly to the opening statement in Paul’s passage – Love is Patient.

Finally, closing out the whole thing, love never fails. The term used here means to perish or fall. So, the verse is saying love never perishes, or never falls. Love will survive any war waged against it, will make way through any obstacle, will move mountains if it has to, all in maintaining its existence. Love isn’t going away.

It is fitting that in 1 John 4:8 we see that God is Love. The Greek word used in that verse is agape’; in other words, God embodies all that we’ve been describing love to be.

So where does this leave us? What difference does all this make?

Love isn’t one action, isn’t a feeling, isn’t a just mindset. It’s more than just being nice. Love is a way of life, brought about by the Holy Spirit in us. It is the byproduct of a mysterious interaction between our intentions and God’s intentions, between our will to live well and God’s sanctifying work in us. It isn’t simply there; it is developed. It has to be honed, crafted, and practiced. By God’s grace we learn to follow his prompts, to behave differently, to be different. Living in a loving way is worshipful, delighting a father watching his kids honor himself.

My big takeaway from all this is simply: One of the highest forms of worship is Loving my wife well.

Love – looking out for number 1

Continuing the work of unpacking what Love is, this post will focus on a couple more characteristics. Between this post and the next one, I’m hoping to wrap it up.

The first is thing we’re looking at is the notion that love is not self-seeking. Here the idea is that to act in love means not seeking to further ones own profit or advantage. The easiest way for me to conceptualize this is simply that love isn’t “looking out for number 1”. All of us know someone whose mission in life is seemingly to make sure they always get ahead or come out on top. They insist things are even or fair, and they give to get. I again can see myself in this, where so much of our relationship (both dating and early marriage) was me trying to make sure I benefited. I would do nice things, fully expecting to have nice things done in return. I would go a little out of my way serve Shelley expecting that she would go farther out of her way to serve me.

Just like everything else we’ve seen about love so far, Paul again is stressing unselfishness.

Love keeps no record of being wronged. The King James version says, [love] thinketh no evil. The Greek words here are are logizomai and kakos. Logizomai means to keep record or account of, and also can be translated as to pass to one’s account, to impute. Additionally, kakos is the Greek word for wrong or evil. To be honest, the research on this one aggravated me. Some of the commentaries I read made me cringe. The reason is that some folks translate the meaning of this verse to be ‘forgive and forget’. I cannot, for the life of me, understand how someone can actually believe that we are to forgive and forget. One commentator even insinuated that not forgetting wrong’s committed against is sinning. To forgive is, supernaturally, a gift to ourselves to release us from a prison of bitterness and resentment. It is worshipful and God honoring. Without spending too much time on this rabbit trail, to suggest that we forget wrongs committed against us is to demand we do something beyond our control. I don’t know about you, but I can’t seem to will myself to forget something. I can try not to dwell on it, and I can do my best to not put myself in situations to be reminded of it, but I cannot force myself to forget.

Anyway, I think the gist here is three-fold. First, that love doesn’t keep a tick-mark tally of wrongs. It’s easy to keep score, but its also incredibly damaging.

Second, that when we love well, we don’t keep that tally in our back-pocket to use when we need to feel justified or exonerated. We don’t use those things as leverage to get our way, nor to rationalize our wrongs.

And finally, when we love well we don’t let our spouses wrongs become what defines them. None of us want to feel like we’re the sum total of our bad behaviors. When we love well, we guard against allowing ourselves to believe the worst about our spouse. No matter the wrongs committed, we’re still made in the image of God, infinitely valuable.

Here are a couple questions I’m challenged with:

1)   What’s my motivation for keeping a tally of my wife’s wrongs? I’d like to say I don’t keep a tally, but the truth is I do.

2)   When I act in self-seeking ways it is usually because I feel a sense of injustice. I think I’m getting the short end of the stick. What keeps me from simply talking to Shelley about it, rather than pulling some self-seeking stunt?

3)   Why do I feel a sense of injustice when Shelley benefits in our relationship?