Something New

If change is hard for you, you’re not alone. Change is hard for most of us. Especially when it touches something close or important to us — a relationship, a favorite place, or a favorite anything really.

I still remember my reaction when I heard that the College World Series would be moving to a brand new stadium. New stadiums are nice and all, but I’d been attending games at Rosenblatt Stadium since I was a little boy. I had decades of memories tied to that place. Others had school and family traditions tied to it. It seemed that Rosenblatt Stadium was the College World Series. How could you possibly have one without the other?

A month or so ago, Starbucks announced that it will stop offering plastic straws with their drinks beginning in 2020. What? Someone’s going to mess with the way I enjoy my favorite drink? Everyone knows that Starbucks has the best straws! My wife and I now joke about hoarding Starbucks straws in preparation for Strawmageddon in 2020. At least, it’s partly a joke.

Change comes — whether we like it or not. And often whether we choose it or choose to avoid it. But the reality is that change is often good. And good for us. Despite my initial misgivings, I have now enjoyed several years of College World Series games at TD Ameritrade Park. And I have to admit, it’s really nice! Much nicer than Rosenblatt ever was. I confess, it’s hard to see now how a paper straw can possibly compare to the plastic that I’m accustomed to (not to mention be an improvement), but based on experience I should at least be open to the possibility.

As followers of Jesus, we, of all people, should be the most open to change. To something new. Even when it touches something important to us. After all, our relationship to God is the result of God having done something new. The Jewish people had their faith and memories and traditions based on what God had been doing and the way He’d been doing it for hundreds of years. And then Jesus showed up and started talking about something new. 

This something new seemed to be a real threat. A threat to their faith and understanding of God. A threat to their way of life. A threat to their memories and traditions. And there was a lot more at stake than a baseball stadium or a preferred vehicle for beverage consumption. This was the very fabric of their society. Their entire identity!

And yet we can look back now and see what God has done. In a passage that the people of Jesus’ day would have known well, God spoke to his people through the prophet Isaiah telling them, “I am about to do something new.” This was a big something new. A something new that literally changed the world. For the better. For good.

But it was change. And change is often hard. Yet it was good. And good for us. (That may register as the understatement of the year right there.)

Is there a something new on the horizon for you? A change that you are worried about? A new that you are hesitant about? A something you are avoiding?

In spite of all of your fears and all of your misgivings, something new might be exactly what you need. Exactly what the world needs.

Maybe this fear of change and new somethings is why God gave us the reassurance of Romans 8:28 along with the something new:

“And we know that God causes all things to work together for good to those who love God.”

Did you catch that? He said all things. Even new things. Even change things. For good. And good for us. Trust that. Trust Him. He might just be doing something new.

<< Leave a comment below and let us know how we can be praying for you and your something new. And feel free to pray for us as we venture out into our own something new. >>

Lessons from Psalm 23 - David's Confidence

“Even when I walk through the valley of deep darkness,

I will fear no evil…”

Psalm 23:4

Psalm 23 is what biblical scholars call a song of confidence.

We all need a song of confidence sometimes.  Because we all encounter trials, we all face fears, and we all find ourselves in places and moments where deep darkness seems to drown out every ray of hope.  Those places where plans and dreams fade to black, where everything we thought we knew, both present and future, is up for grabs.

What will you do when your greatest fear looks you in the eye?  When words you never wanted to hear reach your ears, how will you respond?  Will you cope?  Or will you crumble?  Will you have a faith that stands?

Six weeks ago, a diagnosis delivered in the tight confines of a doctor’s office gave birth to my greatest fear.  The possibility of losing my wife looked me in the eye and refused to blink.  On March 15, 2012, my wife Heather was diagnosed with a rare form of cancer in her right eye.  My wife.  My best friend.  My partner in family and life and ministry.  Melanoma.  Cancer. 

For a few lingering, slow-motion moments, I was ok.  I told myself it would be ok.  I gave her a reassuring look.  And then more words came.  Words like “chest scans” and “liver function.”  I knew what they meant.  I’d been down this road before.  My knees went weak.  My head got light.  I needed to sit down.  This couldn’t be happening.  Not her.  Not now.  Not like this.

You see, for my family, cancer has been the bully in the schoolyard for the past 15 years.  Occasionally he moves on and picks on someone else, but not before he has left broken hearts and shattered dreams in his wake, claiming the lives of people we love.  He is heartless and care-less.  He doesn’t limit his territory to dark alleys or the wrong part of town.  His patterns are unpredictable.  He doesn’t give a rip about character or karma.  He finds you in your bed at night, and refuses to relent in spite of the day.  As far as I’m concerned, if Jesus is the image of the invisible God (and He is), then cancer is the image of our invisible enemy – coming only to steal, kill and destroy.

David and I (and likely you) have something in common.  We both know a place called the valley of deep darkness.[1]  That place where looming darkness attempts to drown out hope.  I don’t know what David’s valley was.  My guess is that he had many such valleys.  Cancer is my valley of deep darkness.

Yet David and I have something else in common: a tested and proven confidence in God.  I love David’s declaration of confidence in Psalm 23 verse four. “I will fear no evil.”  David would have tweeted it like this:  “I. Will. Fear. No. Evil. #Confidence #Steadfastness.”  In the face of darkness - the thickest darkness.[2]  In the face of fear – perhaps his greatest fear.  Confidence in God.  Don’t you want that?  Who wouldn’t want that?!? 

We would do well to locate the source of such confidence.  David reveals it in two Hebrew words.  We require three to translate to English, but they are broken up like this: “You.  With me.”  The reason for David’s confidence in the face of evil, in the face of fear and in the midst of darkness:  “You.  With me.”  When he couldn’t see God.  When he couldn’t feel God.  He still knew that God was “with him.”

David’s statement reveals an important spiritual truth:  Past faithfulness builds future confidence.  A good friend of mine[3] shared that in a sermon more than five years ago and I remember it to this day.  Not because the words are profound, but because the truth of it is - as I have witnessed time and time again.

  Past faithfulness builds future confidence.  The past faithfulness of God builds future confidence in us.  By experiencing the loving care of our Shepherd through daily life as well as times of trial, we know that He will care for and sustain us whatever may come our way.  It is a confidence borne out of experience.

Hebrew scholars tell us that David’s verse of confidence – “I will fear no evil, for you are with me” – is the apex or peak of his song of confidence.  That means that everything in the psalm flows up to it or down from it. 

David knew God’s faithfulness – and he makes this clear in the beginning of the psalm.  When he could find no place to rest, God was a pasture of cool green grass where he could lay down in safety.  When the threats of his enemies echoed in his ears, the reassuring voice of God was as the sounds of soothing waters.  And when his soul approached the breaking point, the Good Shepherd was faithful to bring restoration – in Hebrew, to “give life back” to his weary soul.

The psalmist’s words in Psalm 71 are so relevant here.

“For you, O Lord, are my hope,

my trust, O Lord, from my youth…

You who have made me see many troubles 

and calamities will revive me again.”  

 (Psa 71: 5,20)

Past faithfulness built future confidence for David.  And God's past faithfulness builds future confidence for us as well.

The confidence you need today is found in the faithfulness of God in all of your yesterdays.

Author's note:  You can find information and updates regarding Heather's condition on her Caring Bridge site...  http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/heatherhawks

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[1] Many translations have the phrase “valley of the shadow of death,” however the word “death” is not there in the original Hebrew text.  A more literal translation is “valley of deep darkness” or “valley of thick darkness.”  Tradition is the primary reason that “valley of the shadow of death” continues to be a popular reading. The fact that the word for darkness here is the strongest possible Hebrew word for darkness leads some to conclude that David must have had death in mind.

[2] The word for darkness here is the strongest possible Hebrew word for darkness.  In Job 28:3 it is used for the darkness of a mineshaft – the kind of darkness where you can’t see your hand in front of your face.

[3] Credit for this memorable phrase goes to my good friend and faithful brother in Christ, Steven Bronston.