The Spirit in Family

My heart ached as I watched a video of a Christian, solid in the faith, asking college-aged students to define love, happiness, and God.

Their answers were staggering. Many seemed to have no idea of God's love. Their idea of happiness was doing what the cosmos led. Cosmos? When asked what they would say if a forty-year-old man told them he wanted to be a student in a first-grade class, many responded, “If that is where he feels he needs to be.” These students were clueless about Christ and had no idea how to question something they knew was innately wrong.

I laid my head on the table and sobbed. What happened to the absolutes we once knew?

The writer of Hebrews felt the same frustration when he reminded the people that they'd been believers long enough to have moved on in their study of the Word (Hebrews 5:12-13). Instead, their hearing was dulled. They’d made no progression in their knowledge of the Word. They still fed on milk and were not ready to feed on the meat of the Word, much less teach it.

The problem has changed little throughout the ages. With such extraordinary technological capabilities at our fingertips and our expanded capacity to learn and teach, we give little focus to knowing God’s Word proficiently. Many in our churches still feed on the milk. Our zeal for knowing Him better has diminished.

Christ brought us so much with His entrance into the world. He raised the bar from strictly obeying the law to knowing the Father’s human, tender, and fruitful side. Yet as time passed, we have folded under the world’s demands and allowed the absolutes of who God is, why He came, and why He left to slip from us.

If ever there was a time for God’s people to know Him fully, it’s now. Study to show yourself approved in the Word. Not only will you grow, but you will also be able to share Him in the fullest and most accurate way. He waits for you to respond. Answer.

It was the middle of the night, and I tried not to cry. I also tried not to shout.

That might sound confusing, so let me explain. I was up with my nine-day-old son, who was resting on my chest as I sat on our sofa. It was the first one-on-one time we had together, because we had only welcomed him into our family twelve hours earlier. The Lord had brought him to our family through the amazing process of adoption.

Years of praying and preparing had led to this moment, and emotion overcame me. But I was also overcome with the reality of the gospel. I grew up in church and sang the song “Family of God” countless times. As a believer, I understood that I was a part of God’s family, but that truth took on a deeper meaning as I sat on that sofa with my son.

I recalled the passage in Galatians 4 that explains how God has adopted us into His family (Galatians 4:6). I am His son. As I sat there with my son, I realized that I did not consider him my adopted son; he was just my son. If I, an imperfect father, felt this way, how much more would a perfect heavenly Father? To know that God has welcomed me into His family and loves me so deeply is a source of great comfort and joy.

But I am not the only one who experiences this. The Lord welcomes every believer into His family. The Bible tells us that the Holy Spirit bears witness within us that God is our Father. He loves His children perfectly, and nothing can change that. This is a truth we need to rest in because we hear so many voices telling us many different things about who we are, what we’ve done, and what we will become.

God adopts you into His family, where you are loved, not because of what you have done, but just because He loves you. And nothing can change that. Welcome to the family.

I met God on a smelly path between a septic pond and a river—an apt metaphor for my life that day. As a new pastor, I was consumed by guilt and doubt, questioning my role as a husband and a pastor and my worth to God. “Why would You love me?” I cried out as the stench of the rotting sewage filled my nostrils. His answer rushed in and washed away my doubt. “Why not you?” That day, I learned that the message, method, majesty, and mystery of the life and purpose of Jesus boil down to one word: grace.

God forgives us. We forgive others. And we forgive ourselves. That’s the life-changing message of the New Testament. It’s the method behind the madness of the cross, the majesty of God displayed in seeming disgrace. Grace is the mystery that is a stumbling block to those who live by the law and foolishness to the learned. But to those summoned by God’s grace, it is the wisdom and power of God.

God’s love for us has never been in question (1 Corinthians 1:22-24). Grace clarifies this love and summons us to love Him in return, freeing us to fulfill the first and greatest commandment: to love God with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength.

Grace is also the key to unlocking our love for our neighbors and ourselves. Until we wipe the smudge of sin from our glasses, we will never see the beauty of the person before us. In the same way, we must wipe the film off the mirror to see ourselves. Grace removes the stain of sin so we can love.

And yet grace is the one thing we struggle with the most. The Law gives us clear boundaries. Grace forgives us when we cross them. Wisdom grants us sophistication. Grace seems too simple to be true. But to those who get it, grace is a life-giving flow of love and acceptance.

Live by grace by receiving it freely and then offering it to others.

In the rising sun of an early spring day, I noticed a thousand silvery strands covering my yard.

Although my grass was still more winter brown than spring green, the spiders were out forming their webs. Sticky strands that would be death traps for the thousands of insects soon to emerge as the weather warmed.

Satan has laid his sticky webs, his death traps, across my life as well. I’m sorry to say, I’ve managed to get entangled in them with a repetition that might be funny if it weren’t so life-threateningly sad.

First example. Halfway through college, on an end-of-year beach trip, a friend handed me a Rum and Coke—my first taste of liquor. The next few days in Myrtle Beach were fantastic. My natural shyness was washed away by the Rum. I discovered I was pretty smooth when I was not being shy. I got the prettiest girl (her name was Toni) on the beach and fell head over heels over her. Of course, I wanted that feeling to continue.

But in three months, I was an alcoholic, living to drink. In another month, as I read the inevitable “Dear John” letter from Toni, I heard Satan laughing. I was trapped in a hell that didn’t stop until I was on my knees before God in a jail cell.

Another example. I dated the same girl throughout my junior and senior years of high school. Her name was Cathy. She was the first girl I had seriously kissed. I took her to both the Junior and Senior Proms. We were a good match, comfortable with each other. She was a sweet, innocent soul.

But then Satan sent another girl across my path (1 Peter 5:8). This girl was not so innocent. And I, being the fine, upstanding guy I was, dropped Cathy without so much as a goodbye so I could chase after the lusty new girl. I will forever hear Cathy’s last words to me, speaking through tears over the phone: “What did I do?” And I heard Satan’s hideous laughter.

Lately, Satan has tried a different tack. He whispers in my ear, “Look at how good a writer you are! Look at how people love your writing. You’re the greatest.”

No, I’m not. The truth is, I only try to write what my Lord tells me. These are His words, graciously given to me to put down on paper. If my devotions move people, and I hope they do, then I want people to praise Him and give Him the glory.

The Lord gave us an instruction manual: His Word. We should use it. For a long time, I didn’t do that, and I paid the price.

Put God’s words in your heart today. Arm yourself against Satan’s laughter.

Our actions matter. Children watch, absorb, internalize, and learn. But perfection isn’t required. I grew up in an imperfect family with perfect provision.

My home was simultaneously uncertain and stable, chaotic and ordered, insecure and solid. We prayed before every meal, attended church on Sundays, and celebrated Christmas and Easter. My grandparents and cousins often gathered to swim, boat, and enjoy family treats like Coke floats, beans and applesauce, and snickerdoodles. There was boisterous laughter, hide-and-seek, theme parks, and sleepovers. It was magical. 

But life is never just one thing (1 Peter 4:8). Struggles of addiction plagued our family, bills went unpaid, and divorce split our home. I learned a scarcity mentality, the stress of money, the need to shield myself from hurt and disappointment, a sincere doubt in marriage, and a lack of trust. But I also learned that love, faith, family, and traditions can have a greater influence—because of God.

In the mix of life, in this imperfect world, God never leaves us as He finds us. In the chaos, He can restore. It’s a work in progress, but He is persistent. In our imperfect, dysfunctional family, I found that in His love, provision is sufficient, restoration is possible, and love isn’t finite. God can make our imperfections perfect because “love covers a multitude of sins.”

Let God give you the perfect provision you need.