Praise offered up

A sacrifice expresses belief. A sacrifice gives up something, believing that it’s worth any “loss” for whatever is gained. 

When we give up dessert or carbs to follow a diet, that loss is a sacrifice to gain better health (You know I love you, Dark Chocolate). When we give up money or time for someone else’s sake, that loss is a sacrifice for the sake of a greater purpose than self. But have you ever thought of praise as a sacrifice that gives up something less worthy than what is gained?

“Through Jesus, therefore, let us continually offer to God a sacrifice of praise - the fruit of lips that openly profess His name.” Hebrews 13:15

The author of Hebrews explains that praise expresses belief that Jesus is the better and only way of salvation, leaving my efforts in the dust and all my self-promotion utterly worthless.  Praise declares that He is more worthy than me.

But this affects more than just my salvation. Jesus being more worthy, means I lay my personal expectations for life and stipulations for praise on the altar where they’re consumed by the belief that He Himself is better than what I might want: the comfort, goal, dream, preference, calling, system, person, accolades, plan, house, children, job, or image that I chase after. Praise opens its hands on demands and declares that He is better than His gifts. He is worthy of worship whether He gives those gifts or not.

The sacrifice of praise calls Him Untarnished when I’m broken. He is better than healing.

The sacrifice of praise calls Him Precious when I feel otherwise. He is better than feelings.

The sacrifice of praise calls Him Good when life hasn’t been. He is better than life.

What stipulations for praise have hindered it from growing in your life?

Broken Senses

Have you ever been afraid to change your perspective? For me, it goes like this:

If I’m grateful in this situation, God will forget how miserable it actually is, and He’ll leave me in it. God will forget my tears if I rejoice. God will overlook my sorrow if I thank Him. God will shrug off my fears if I’m grateful. God will ignore my pain if I praise Him.  Things will be broken forever.

The Apostle John would have a few words with me for this kind of thinking, and so would the prophet Isaiah (see what they're inspired to say in Revelation 21:4 and Isaiah 25:8). In these descriptions of the end of time, when God and His people reunite, one of God’s first acts is a personal one. From individual faces, He wipes away tears. Each set of eyes that welled up, that spilled over, that ran mascara, and hid from public view, He dries. 

As He waits to do that for you, you’re operating under the old order, the “former things” that I would describe as the five broken senses from Revelation 21:4: tears, death, mourning, crying, and pain. Through these, we may discover earth’s realities, but by recognizing them as temporarily out of order, we discover reasons to be grateful. 

To see how I personally experience the world through these five broken senses, I listed my current difficulties and future fears that dominate my outlook on life. I filled a sheet of paper. Then I looked for similarities in the list, and I found that each could be categorically grouped under one of these broken senses: tears, death, mourning, crying or pain.  For example, my fear of losing a family member could be categorized most clearly under death.  

Tears and death are straightforward categories of our experiences, but what distinguishes mourning, crying, and pain from each other?  

Mourning is also translated as sorrow in some versions. We mourn lost time, a shortened life, ruined expectations, broken relationships, etc. Things end in ways we wish they didn’t. 

Crying, according to Vine’s Expository Dictionary, is an onomatopoeia that sounds like a raven’s cry in Greek, and, according to Strong’s Concordance, it’s an outcry of “notification, tumult, or grief”.  Think of this word like an emergency vehicle’s siren: it notifies of an emergency, involves some kind of tumult, and represents possible grief.  It’s a reason for alarm and creates sudden upheaval. We’d like to pull to the side of the road and let those scenarios pass right by us. 

Pain can signify more than just general pain, and includes “laborious toil”, according to Vine’s Expository Dictionary. From failing health to taxing work, the pain is real, and we can’t medicate enough to avoid it.

Would you consider making a list of your own current struggles or future fears that inform your perspective? See how they fit within the five broken senses of the old system, and turn your list into a reason for gratitude that God will one day fix what is temporarily out of order.  What you might find is that gratitude begins His restoration right here and now.

“He will wipe away every tear from YOUR eyes. 

There will be no more death,

Or mourning,

Or crying,

Or pain,

For the former things have passed away.” Revelation 21:4

No Thanks

I can’t count the number of times in my life that I’ve caught myself acting like an Israelite, fresh out of Egypt. Their list of faults could easily match mine: idealizing the past, forgetting God’s power, doubting His word, complaining about…much of life. 

Even after God miraculously brought water out of rock and bread out of nothing, here’s what they said:

“There is nothing at all but this manna to look at!” Num 11:4-6

“There is no food and no water, and we loathe this worthless food.” Num 21:5

The appearance of manna each morning was no longer enough, because, to them, what God provided had become repetitive, at best, and repulsive, at worst. Do you label part of God’s provision in your life with one of those words? I’m as guilty as they were. 

Repetitive. This (fill in the blank) is just plain boring. 

Repulsive. I’m sick of this (fill in the blank)! No thanks, God.

No thanks. We’ve stumbled upon a fundamental flaw, then and now. We give God no thanks.  

A quick Google search of the word thankfulness, shows that the medical field now prescribes the same directive that originates in Scripture: be thankful. It turns out that this spiritual act of worship is also a physically restorative practice.  Are we surprised that our Creator asks of us what can also benefit us? 

If Israel was tired of seeing miraculous manna everywhere and sick of its taste, then I too am susceptible to rejecting God’s everyday provision. The way to guard against that is thankfulness. So this week, I’m taking particular note of what I taste and what I see, because I want to keep tasting and continue seeing that the Lord is good. 

Each day, I’m writing down 3 things I’ve tasted and 3 things I’ve seen that make me thankful for the One who gave me these senses to experience His good provision. Want to join me in this Perspective Project? I’d love to hear what’s on your list!

Try it on Backwards

Psalm 20

The thing about a favorite T-shirt is that it hangs so familiarly that I forget I’m even wearing it. I don’t spend any part of my day actually thinking about what I have on when I pull it from my drawer. It just feels right.

But then there’s that feeling when the neckline sits up higher than usual and the shoulders pull awkwardly, that I realize I’ve put it on backwards. Suddenly, I become aware of its shape and seams that were intentionally, yet subtly, designed, and I love it even more because of those details.  Only by trying it on backwards, do I recognize why it’s so perfect front-wards.

I’ve noticed that I can treat Scripture like a favorite shirt, well-worn and comfortable, used without much attention to why it resonates.  But what if I tried Scripture on backwards? How could it accentuate truth if it were reversed into falsehood? 

Recently a friend introduced me to the idea of antipsalms, where the message of hope and truth in a Psalm is twisted into despair and lies by turning the verses to mean the opposite. 

Try on my Antipsalm 20 for Psalm 20:

There is no one to answer you in the day of trouble.

There is no one to call on for protection.

Help isn’t coming, and nor is any support.

Everything you’ve done is forgotten.

All your hopes and dreams will be dashed.

There is only crying, defeat, and failure ahead.

No one can save you; heaven is silent and too weak to rescue.

It’s better to have military strength than to rely on a god, 

because that’s where the real power is to rise above the enemy. 

The king saves himself. No one bothers with your problems.

Have you been walking around in this backwards shirt, believing it’s your reality? Quick! Twist it around, and check out Psalm 20 to get it right and to love it even more.

Easter Monday after Resurrection Sunday

2 Corinthians 4:7-11

Monday will never measure up. It always sits in the shadow of Sunday and follows on the heels of eventful weekends, forming contrasts too great for this mere weekday to overcome.  Monday has a reputation for being the rule-keeper of the group by signaling reality, sounding the alarm clock, and infamously shutting down fun times. We usually dread it and wish we could play a Skip card on it. 

Monday means back to business, back to normal, back to school, back to reality, back to routine weekdays, and even more so when it follows a holiday like this one.  On Sunday, we rightly celebrate, sing, invite, and dine over joyous truth worth every ounce of energy, but what does the resurrection mean when I wake up the next day?

If I’ve claimed Christ’s death and resurrection on my behalf, then He is living in me. His life in me must mean something for weekdays of paperwork, crying children, loads of laundry, upset clients, overdue bills, unmet expectations, questions about the future, broken relationships, and everyday normal living. How does the power to defeat death translate into power to live my days?

2 Corinthians 4:7-11 helps us understand what this holiday means for the week:

On Monday, when people and situations are pressing in from every side, it’s our living Savior in us that keeps us from crumbling under the weight of it all. 

On Tuesday, when we’re perplexed about which way to turn, what decision to make, or whether we even have resources for the next step, it’s the power of God that raised Christ, which keeps us from despair in our confusion.

On Wednesday, when we feel hunted down, on the run, or harassed for our faith, it’s the presence of Christ that will not abandon us.

On Thursday, when life swings for a total knockout, it’s Jesus’ death we’re tasting, but it’s His life that guarantees we will not be destroyed.

What are Good Friday and Resurrection Sunday for, if not for weekdays like these?