I rest my weary body in the church pew after a tiresome week of life. When I arrived this morning, I came with the worries of unpaid bills, unconquered struggles, and a “black hole” of depleted resources. I almost stayed home. I did not want to face the happy greetings of my fellow parishioners, because I did not share their happiness. I did not want to hear the celebratory chatter of excited friends, because I could not join in their delightful dialogue. I did not want to be faced with the dreaded question, “How has your week been?” because I could not provide a blatantly honest answer.
But here I am—once again faithfully forcing myself through the motions of another church service…at least, part of me participates. My mind is already fast forwarding to the benedictory prayer, the closing song, and the final “Amen.” My mind is already reclining in my easy chair, drowning my sorrows in secular activities that will only worsen my already dark mood.
Oh, wait! Now, they are beginning the opening song. I force myself to my feet, clap my hands unenthusiastically, singing the lyrics in a monotone melody, and counting down the minutes until my exhausted body can join my unengaged mind in my comfortable recliner.
We’ve now just finished the second worship song, and I already have my tithing envelope in hand. The service leader will preach a couple of minutes on a topic he thinks will inspire us to give (Truthfully, he rarely is presented the opportunity to preach a full message, so this is his chance to “sneak a preach,” and his inspirational talk metamorphosizes into a five-minute sermonette.). My spirit hopes for his invitation to pray over the offering, simply so that I know he has completed his lecture.
I place my envelope in the offering plate, internalizing my thoughts of the service lasting forever. I patronize the praise team once again as they sing yet another song as I begrudgingly give my tithe, while I coerce my body to continue my lifeless worship routine.
Now it is time for prayer over submitted requests. I have previously petitioned God, seemingly to no avail. My enormous problems were never corrected, my formidable circumstances never shrank, and my lofty ambitions were never realized. Why should I try again? My limping faith barely dragged me through the sanctuary doors. I’m wondering if God will ever alter the floundering course of my life.
Finally, it is time for the pastor to preach. I hope today he runs out of steam in 20 minutes or less. Today is not the day for a lengthy dive into the depths of Scripture. I just want to complete my obligatory attendance to this service so that I can return alone to the billowing waves of my problems.
But this is when my story takes an unexpected turn. Pastor stepped to the podium and read the text of Matthew 21:44 NKJV: “44 And whoever falls on this stone will be broken; but on whomever it falls, it will grind him to powder.”
The pastor’s next words captures my attention. He passionately states, “Sometimes, it is not sufficient for God to break us; there are moments when God has to reduce us to ground powder before He can begin His transformation process into a new vessel.”
“Jeremiah experienced a similar event,” the pastor continued, “when he observed a piece of clay in a potter’s hand that was marred, but the marring was not the story’s conclusion. As long as the clay was in the potter’s hand, the potter continued to work with the ‘messed-up’ clay until the clay could be meticulously molded into the perfect vessel its creator intended it to be.”
As I shift uncomfortably in the pew, tears slowly materialize in the corners of my eyes, as I begin to noiselessly acknowledge that God knows my heart’s condition even better than me. I am demoralized by the powder my life has succumbed to, thinking that change is only a lofty wish for an inevitable conclusion, but now I am reminded that the depth of my brokenness does not disqualify me from my place in the hand of the Master Potter. Even the Potter can do something with the powder.
As I shook violently under the overwhelming grace of God, the pastor summoned the musicians to the platform and invited the remaining attendees to stand, as he concluded.
“Unfortunately, some in this congregation have copied my neighbor’s pattern. Last year, at Halloween, he decorated his yard with an enormous skeleton that reached his roof’s edge. After Halloween, I patiently waited for the decoration’s removal, but it never occurred. Instead of clearing his yard of a figurine that did not belong, he simply began decorating the skeleton for the changing seasons.
“That may sound like a humorous story. But how many of us have struggled to clear our emotional closets of the broken skeletons in our lives and have simply resigned ourselves to their permanent presence? Discouraged by the painful process of removing our rotting trouble, we are tempted to redecorate it, so that our problems blend into the other scenery of life. But instead of accepting my towering problem as permanent, decorating my discarded rubble as an attractive ornament, and attempting to cover the putrid smell of my decomposing issues, I must firmly determine to unclutter the grotesque landscape of my future and invite God to transform me into a new creation.”
I am now slowly strolling to the front to join my fellow congregants. The severity of my struggle did not nullify my place in God’s hand. Instead, it actually padded my credentials for His use. It was the eloquent psalmist and successful king, David, who had fallen into an adulterous affair with Bathsheba and allowed his godly sorrow to produce in him a prayer of repentance, that gratefully admitted in Psalms 51:17 NKJV:
“17 The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit,
A broken and a contrite heart—
These, O God, You will not despise.”
Is my trouble truly the will of God? Is it possible that my struggle is part of His plan? Could the brokenness that I currently suffer be the very condition God was pursuing for my life all along?
Who would have thought that my struggle could be the catalyst that propelled me to my greatest strengths and prepared me for what God has next? I refuse to be blinded by my mistake and instead permit my brokenness to fixate on my mission and my transformation.
Others have discarded us because of our struggle, but the abandoned powder of our lives is no less than a shunned army. The “discarders” have not yet realized the potential that lies in our brokenness.
Raymond Woodward said, in a series that he taught on The Master’s Twelve, that the disciples truly were ordinary, and many of them possessed nothing and existed as nothing, but that is a great place for God to begin His work. After all, He commenced Creation with nothing, leading me to conclude God can use me, even when my brokenness has now deteriorated to ground powder. I might be powder, but at least I am broken, and thankfully, God can employ the powder after He has deconstructed my pride from my life.
I was reading the Bible this week, and though I’ve read passages using this phrase before, this week I was struck by it a little differently. Throughout the Bible, especially in the Old Testament, there are numerous passages that describe God as the “Lord of hosts.” Why would God specifically feel the need to describe himself as the One Who is in charge of multitudes?
Just prior to Jesus’ arrest, He instructed Peter to put his sword away and not defend Him at that particular juncture. In Matthew 26:53 NKJV, Jesus asked him, “…do you think that I cannot now pray to my Father, and He will provide Me with more than twelve legions of angels?” Here, it seems Jesus was reminding Peter of his position as “Lord of hosts.”
To be Lord of hosts means that God has all of the resources He needs at His disposal. He doesn’t require any assistance, and He doesn’t possess any weaknesses. God is never stumped by a question nor paralyzed by a problem. After all, He has hosts simply waiting with baited breath for Him to give the Word.
Recent marketing strategies have frightened many consumers. Many years ago, I spent two and a half years in digital marketing, and I was amazed at the technological advances that existed then. I was impressed that someone could perform an Internet search using their search engine, but then open their social media and be immediately inundated with ads relating to their previous research on a completely different platform. With the advent of Siri, Google Voice, Alexa, Bixby, and others, I am convinced we sign away rights when using a smart phone that allow them to listen in to conversations and use the data from those conversations to display relevant ads in our individual digital experiences. As a result, that must mean these voices represented by artificial intelligence are always listening for the keyword that allows us to use hands-free technology.
That’s exactly the way I envision the hosts that serve God. They are waiting in the wings of the throne room in anticipation for God to give the word and put them to work. I don’t know exactly how hosts work, but whatever they are doing prior to God deploying them for His kingdom, there is one thing that I believe they are doing–listening. The moment God gives the word, they are off like an eager horse at the starting gate of the Kentucky Derby.
Elisha stepped out of his home to see the local city surrounded by the Syrian army, yet Elisha remained unwavering. His servant was terrified by the formidable army, but Elisha remained at peace. When the servant cried out the despairing cry, “What do we do?” Elisha calmly said, “Don’t worry. There are more with us than there are with them” and then asked God to open the servant’s eyes to see the angelic hosts that were also present. It is common for us see the multiplication of the enemy’s hosts and yet miss the hosts that God has ready to utilize for our assistance. So remember: even when it seems like the enemy has stacked the odds against you, there are hosts that you cannot see that God has at the ready.
Be encouraged by this concept today. The fact that God is the Lord of hosts means whenever He sees you are in need, He has plenty of resources to assist. God is at the ready the moment that you call to Him.
Last week in a meeting I had with two different saints in our church, I recognized the fingerprints of the enemy in a very indirect way. The attacks were not strong or even extremely clear, yet I sensed their presence, almost in the sense that a splinter is sensed as opposed to the stabbing of a knife. The splinter causes irritation and discomfort, while the stabbing of a knife produces excruciating pain. The problem is that we sometimes delay in dealing with the splinter because we learn how to cope with the pain.
I am convinced that recently the demonic attacks have been more irritable and uncomfortable, but we have felt it was easier to cope with the discomfort than take the time to root out the problem. As a result, we don’t even realize the weight we were carrying, and we were unaware of how distracted we were becoming.
Frankly, for the last few weeks something has felt “off,” but I believe this epitome, which I believe was God-given in the middle of the night, is the answer. We have become distracted by little hang-ups. The devil hasn’t thrown us off a cliff; he just placed something in our paths that caused us to stub our toe. But while we tend to turn to God in those cliff-hanger situations, we tend to try to cope with the distractions of our stubbed toes.
I sincerely believe we need God to remove from us the stubbed toes…the little hang-ups…the distractions, so we can remain focused on the mission. The kingdom of God must move forward, and we cannot afford to be hindered by distractions.
-Pastor Wilkerson
I am thankful for gates. This past Saturday, my family and I went to the Potter Park Zoo in Lansing, and there were a number of times when I felt appreciation for gates and fencing that I trusted were strong enough to keep the animals away from us. There was a male and female lion who were enjoying the meat of a piece of dead carcase. There was a menacing tiger pacing around his enclosure. There was a rhinoceros standing near what appeared be her offspring basking in the sun. I was quite thankful for gates and fencing that held.
Prior to my election as Pastor at Life Christian Church in Lansing, I worked as a teacher for the Tennessee Department of Corrections. I met people who needed to be confined, at least for a time, as punishment for their criminal activities. Some of them were outright menaces to the general public. I was thankful for chain link fencing and razor wire that successfully kept felons from escaping their confinement.
I am intrigued by the fact that in Matthew 16:18 Jesus told Peter, “the gates of hell shall not prevail against” his church. I have often heard this applied in the sense that the devil and his cohorts cannot be victorious when attacking the church, but gates aren’t offensive weapons. They are designed to keep the opposing forces out. In other words, this verse is not telling us Satan’s forces cannot defeat us (though that is true); it’s actually saying the gates of hell won’t hold when the Church encroaches on their territory. We are the male and female lion licking our chops after enjoying the meat of the dead carcase. We are the pacing tiger. We are the powerful rhinoceros. Yet, hell’s gates won’t be able to hold against the Church’s forceful attack. They can’t stop the Church!
-Pastor Wilkerson
Consistency in current society is truly a jewel. In the ever-changing world we live in, it feels as if consistency is near non-existent. Technology is always changing so that by the time we learn one technological advancement, there is likely a new one that has already been developed to improve upon the method or device we just finished learning.
Consistency in the technological realm may be frustrating, but in many cases it is not concerning. On the other hand, I become alarmed when I see the lack of consistency in “so called” Christians. With some, it almost feels appropriate to ask, “So are we living for God today or not?” Frankly, I’ve determined there are individuals whom you can almost determine their mindset, their faith, and their commitment for that day by checking the weather. Now, I’m not referring to determining the chance of rain for the day or the projected temperature, but I’m speaking of the individual’s circumstances, and it can actually work in two different ways.
There are some who need a crisis to keep them close to God. If it were not for the crisis, they would have no relationship with Christ. They only hold on to God because they need him to fix their circumstances, which often they were responsible for creating. Yet, the moment their crisis is fixed, their personal relationship with God ceases to exist.
On the other hand, some will only serve God when their circumstances are perfect. At the very first sight of trouble, they turn on God, wondering why he has forsaken them and why bad things happen to good people. “How could you let this happen?” they ask God, failing to remember that trouble rains on the just as well as on the unjust.
But I would like to remind you that regardless of your circumstances, God is always God. When the sun is shining, God is still God. When the storm is raging, God is still God. My hope is that we can find a consistent relationship with God that can be constant in spite of our circumstances.
I would like to close by saying there are moments when we feel weak. There are times when we will ask questions. However, there is a difference in experiencing feelings and questions and the outright rejection of God because of a slight change of circumstances. My desire is that in spite of the emotions and uncertainties, we will make the choice to serve God at all times. The weather in our circumstances should have nothing to do with it.
-Pastor Wilkerson
