“Your post is awaiting moderation” is something we bloggers see a lot.

Basically, when we comment on someone else’s blog and they have a particular setting turned on, our comments have to wait for their approval before they’re displayed.  I personally do not have this setting enabled (haven’t needed it yet – don’t make me change my mind), but there’s no doubt it’s a handy little tool for the internet which, as you can imagine, is hardly lacking for spam and ill will.

Ever felt like your prayer is awaiting moderation? in heaven? For, like, decades?

Prayers have four answers: Yes, wait then yes, no, wait then no. In descending order of fun. It’s one thing to get a “no” right off the bat. At least you can deal with it then, get past the disappointment. But much of the time, God requires us to wait for the answer.

I once found it tempting to think that at least “wait” didn’t mean “no” yet. But I then found that waiting and then getting a no was even worse.

I’m committed to the idea that God cares about our heart’s desires. A responsible pastor won’t necessarily preach that too much on Sunday morning when he doesn’t know the spiritual maturity of everyone who’s walked through the door; this is stuff better left to one-on-one discipleship. But God does care. When we read stories like the twelve-year wait of the woman with the issue of blood (Matthew 9), or the one crippled by evil for eighteen, or the man invalid for thirty-eight (that’s longer than I’ve been alive, people), you remember that God’s miraculous gifts can still come for you, even now.

But even if the answer is a no, we have a choice over how we live up until the “no”.

Continue reading →

I wasn’t planning to make this a series. This should be the final installment. Feel free to read Part 1 and Part 2 if you’re really jonesing for a flying leap down the rabbit hole.

I used to be really irritated whenever someone mentioned God’s glory.

It took years of reflection, but thanks to God’s kind insight, I figured out why.

Part of the problem was that whenever I heard “glory of God”, I heard distance. Detachment. Dismissal. A far-off God who couldn’t care less about my heart or my issues, who basks in a shower of others’ praises while I toil down here, forgotten, or kinda tolerated. I feared getting lost in the shuffle.

I believe this is actually an enormous conundrum for my generation, one I’d like to talk about eventually – the collision of soli Deo gloria with the masses of millennials wounded by damaged families, abuse, neglect, self-hatred, addiction, and every other ill stemming from being grandchildren of the sixties, and then being told that a Christ-centered gospel means that their struggles are unworthy of attention. (Yes, we hear that. All the time.)

For now, the irony is, that definition of soli Deo gloria doesn’t glorify God. Scripture tells us instead of a gracious, compassionate, and involved God who goes to great lengths to come through, even arranging for trials so that we can learn of his power (2 Cor. 1:9). He is repeatedly described as a healer all through the holy book. It’s no wonder that many of my quiet times with God were unsatisfying and tense; I didn’t have the right image of him. Approaching God without accounting for every aspect of his character is a pointless exercise, and affords him no glory.

This has been a relief. God has reconciled vast territories of my heart to him through these Scriptural discoveries and opened new avenues of worship and intimacy.

But there was a deeper issue.

Continue reading →