The Spirit Living in Our Heart

Most people can appreciate a sunny day. Severe storms? Not so much. Yet the storm of the century in Death Valley National Park precipitated an incredible transformation. A deluge of rain fell unexpectedly, depositing more than a year’s rainfall in a single day. Roads flooded, trails became impassable, and the park closed for weeks.

Two months later, the hottest place on earth was still wet. Wildflowers bloomed out of season. The typically dry Badwater Basin became home to a shallow lake. The change in the landscape was so profound that park rangers reported they hadn’t seen anything like it in over eighteen years.

As uncomfortable as our “death valleys” are, they can also birth new things. Yet instead of changing the landscape around us, God uses the low points in our lives to change us. We may feel we are dying, but what we feel and what is true are not necessarily the same.

God brings beauty out of barren places. A job loss is devastating until it opens the door to a new, rewarding career. Classes are overwhelming until we graduate. Childbirth is brutal until the baby arrives, and the labor pains become a vague memory.

Life forces us to experience things, but we do not have to fear them. With Jesus as our Counselor, Comforter, and Advocate, our dry places can eventually suit God’s purpose.

Even when we bring hot situations upon ourselves, God is merciful. Moses was a murderer, but God chose him to liberate the Israelites from Egypt. Abraham took Sara’s maid, trying to fulfill God’s plan hastily, yet he received the promised son from his once barren wife.

Like these unlikely heroes, our mistakes don’t define us either. The fear of failure should never hold us hostage. We can live with confidence when we focus on our faith and embrace the new things our Father does in and through us.

God brings dead things to life. Think of some dead areas you need to turn over to God. Then watch what He will do.

“Step outta the way.” My friend had that deer-in-the-headlights look when I gently tapped her shoulder. “You’re looking for permission to go, but you’re standing in the way. Step outta the way.”

She giggled. “I think you’re right.” 

Sally was invited on a mission trip to Africa. The team was told there’d be thousands of children, and Sally wanted to go. A few health issues stood in the way and some personal family ditties that wouldn’t move over and give her peace about going. So, she said no.

When God has a plan for us, He usually doesn’t let up, and He had a plan for Sally. The thing was, God would not work fully through Sally until she allowed Him to freely abide in her. Sally wanted to go but wasn’t giving to God freely, which added a step to God’s plan: convince Sally He had her back.

The story of Ruth makes its way into wedding ceremonies and Mother’s Day sermons frequently. But when we look at Ruth's love for her mother-in-law, we see a far deeper conviction than just family. Ruth fully gave herself to God. When she declared her faithfulness to Naomi, she also committed verbally to following God—making Him her God as well.

As a result, God blessed Ruth and rewarded her faithfulness. He worked through her. He recognized Ruth so much that she became part of the lineage of Jesus listed in Matthew. Ruth’s life was more than average. Her faithfulness lifted the brow of God when she vowed to stay with Naomi and make God the Father her God. She was a woman of her word, and she kept her vow. Ruth stepped out of the way.

Sally stepped out of the way too, and within three days (a significant number, don’t you think?) God removed every issue that gave her concern. She went to Africa, and God kept His promise—there were thousands of children to minister to.

Sometimes we know exactly what to do, but doubt and fear bring about excuses. Step to the side and open the door to your heart. When you do, God will fully work through you.

By chance, a strange site once caught my attention: a streetlight turned on in the middle of a sunny Sunday afternoon. Although the light was turned to full brightness, it had a negligible effect compared to the Texas sunlight beaming down on me. The streetlight wasn’t any brighter than at night, but the light’s impact was more drastic in the darkness.

Paul wrote to the Philippians from a Roman prison. People who exemplified this warped and crooked generation surrounded him. Treated like a criminal, Paul had every reason to begin acting like one—whether in action or attitude. Instead, he continued his ministry, seizing his surroundings and opting to make them an opportunity.

Amid a dark generation, we can easily succumb to despair. Haiti has fallen into the hands of gangs. Ukrainians, Russians, Israelis, and Palestinians die daily. In the United States, suicide and drug use have skyrocketed. Looking on the bright side challenges us.

We live in a warped and crooked generation, and until Jesus returns, we always will. Maybe it’s time we stopped looking on the bright side and started doing everything without grumbling or arguing so that we might become blameless and pure. Then our light will shine even brighter in the darkness.

Just like stars light the night and streetlights the dark, Christians can shine the brightest when the world is dim.

Stop looking on the bright side. Instead, start shining.  

I find that throughout my days, tiny gaps of time exist: waiting for dinner to arrive at a restaurant, in a doctor’s office, in a grocery store checkout line, or at the gas pump. I tend to fill these gaps by scrolling through my media feeds.

It occurred to me that instead of giving in to the gravitational pull of technology, I could use some of these time gaps as micro invitations to commune with God. I could say a quick prayer for a loved one or think about what I read that morning during my devotions.

These gaps can be moments of practicing unceasing prayer, finding something or someone to be thankful for, rejoicing in a beautiful day, or opening (and keeping open) my soul to hearing God’s whisper.

Time gaps provide opportunities to continue my devotion throughout the day. These spaces, however brief, are perfect for relationship-building with my heavenly Father, much like I would fill them with small talk with a friend.

Over time, I wonder if this would become a sacred habit as we become a people of prayer—a habit that we look forward to and even start to crave. We would watch for these gaps throughout our days—periods when we can meet and converse with our Father and tell Him everything.

Look for times to commune with your heavenly Father. 

Karisa followed me up the steep, polished, wooden steps to the sanctuary’s choir loft behind the pulpit. She was a gifted flutist and Morgan County Middle School’s band director.

“Please give me an A,” Karisa requested.

I struck an octave with my right hand, the two A ivory keys on both sides of middle C. She blew steadily into her silver flute. Her otherwise clear tone sounded unexpectedly flat, clouded, and slightly below the intended pitch. After a few adjustments, we tuned the musical instrument to the grand piano. She was ready for morning worship.

Karisa had tuned her flute earlier that morning to a piano in the choir room that struggled to hold pitch. The sanctuary piano was located where climate conditions were more carefully monitored.

Rick, a local piano tuner, was once amazed to discover that my studio grand piano sounded perfectly in tune. It had been wrapped, boxed, and stood on its side for two years. Before the moving company transported my piano into storage, I had confirmed that the facility was climate-controlled.

We are God’s instruments: flutes, pianos, voices. He tunes and sanctifies us, makes us holy, and sets us apart so we thrive in his climate-controlled environment. He gets all the credit.

Oswald Chambers wrote, “Sanctification means being made one with Jesus.” God’s power keeps us in perfect tune with Him. The Holy Spirit continually strikes a tuning fork in our hearts to align us with spot-on pitch.

Stay connected to Jesus through sanctification and being tuned to His Spirit.