Keeping on track...

For this year, 2020, we (that's I and the dogs) have had an annual goal of walking 2020 kilometres. I calculated this week that, if we’re to keep on track with our target, we need to be averaging just over 168 km every month… 

I was pretty sure that coronavirus quarantine lockdown would have completely sabotaged our progress,  as it meant we were forbidden from doing our usual spring hikes in the mountains and limited instead to making shorter circuits much closer to home. (The photos are from February, when we were still allowed out and about.) In fact, I've been incredibly thankful for the dogs, as they represent one of the few valid reasons we've had for leaving our homes over the past seven weeks. People without dogs have not been allowed to go out, except for doing their supermarket shopping.

With our movements so severely restricted during March and April, I was pleasantly surprised and encouraged today to discover that, despite the lockdown, we’ve somehow managed to clock up (and donate to charity) more than 700 km by this last day of April. We're still on track!

What are the areas where Covid quarantine presented a danger of throwing you "off track" and preventing you from doing things you'd hoped to do? Or are you one of the people who suddenly found yourself with lots of extra time on your hands, and were actually able to get back on track with things you'd been postponing for ages?

When the apostle Paul writes to a young man called Timothy, he tells him to continue in what he has learned and knows to be true; not to let anything throw him off track. (2 Tim 3: 14)

What are the things where you need to keep on track during the weeks that lie ahead?

Are you among the courageous?

How courageous are you?

I suspect that most of us don't particularly think of ourselves as especially courageous. Somehow, the word conjures up thoughts of war heroes or people who face incredible trials and dangers.

In the Old Testament, in 2 Samuel 23 and then again in 1 Chronicles 11, we read about David's "mighty men." Some Bible translations call them King David's "warriors" while other translations refer to them as "heroes."

If you're reading in a Spanish Bible, they're referred to as the valientes - which simply means courageous: people of courage. You don't need to be a warrior to be courageous; you don't even need to be a "mighty man." You can be a woman, or a child, and still be a person of courage.

And so it's interesting to read what the Bible actually says about these heroes, these people of courage.  The accounts of their exploits are strangely different. Sure enough, some of them were brave warriors who killed vast numbers of enemy soldiers. One of them was a strong guy who pursued and killed a lion on a snowy day; another was a courageous soldier who killed an Egyptian giant.  

Yet there are others in the list whose achievements were not nearly so spectacular. One of them was called Eleazar, and all that we're told about him is that he stuck by his commander even when others had fled; that he persevered even when he felt like giving up, and that one time his hand was so tired that he didn't even have the energy to lift up his sword. 

Have you ever been in that place? Have you ever reached the point where you felt that you didn't have the energy to go on? Have you ever felt so tired or discouraged that it would have been tempting to give up and run away? If you didn't do that, if you chose instead to "stick by your commander," to persevere and stay faithful to Jesus even when others didn't, then you're just like Eleazar. You are a person of perseverance and courage.

Another of the "valientes" was called Shammah, and all that we're told about him was that he held his ground when under attack and he defended a field of lentils. Nothing very glamorous about that; saving a field of lentils doesn't sound like a particularly significant achievement. And perhaps you feel that your life is not particularly significant; that your involvement for the kingdom of God is not especially spectacular or praiseworthy. But it's not about how big or small your involvement is; it's not about whether you teach a Sunday school class of six kids or whether you lead a church of hundreds of people. It's about whether you "hold your ground" when the enemy attacks, seeking to discourage you and make you give up.  It doesn't matter how young or old you are. It's about whether you're willing to stand strong for your field of lentils.

Faithfulness and perseverance are what mark us as people of courage, no matter how large or small the territory that has been entrusted to us. Are you numbered among the courageous?

Read on below for something that was perhaps even more important about David's mighty men.

Hearing what's said in secret...

Among the various things we're told about the "mighty men" who were closest to King David, there is one story that has really impacted me personally - ever since I first noticed it, back in the 1980s. It's about three of the men in particular, and the story is told for us in 2 Samuel 23, as well as in 1 Chronicles chapter 11 vs 15 - 19.

It was during a time of warfare, when David and some of his troops had withdrawn briefly from the battle and were sheltering in a cave. The Philistines were occupying Bethlehem at the time. Bethlehem had been David's home town, and there in the cave, he just happened to say, "Oh, I wish someone could bring me a drink of that lovely fresh water from the well near the gate of Bethlehem."

It wasn't a command; he didn't call some of his soldiers and order them to go and do that for him. It was simply a desire of his heart, perhaps said with a sigh, perhaps barely spoken above a whisper as they hid there in the cave.

But those men in the story were near enough that they happened to hear what David said, even though he said it to himself and not to anyone else in particular. So great was their love for their leader that the three of them set off and broke through Philistine lines, just so that they could draw water from that Bethlehem well and bring it back for David to drink. They weren't obeying an order from their army commander; they were doing something he hadn't even asked for, just because they knew it would bring joy to his heart.

The first time I read that story, it got me wondering about my own relationship with God. Not about whether I was obedient to His instructions or not, but whether I was going a step further than that .... whether I was close enough to hear the desires of His heart; whether I knew Him well enough to understand what would bring Him great joy, even if He hadn't specifically asked me to do those things for Him.

It's like when you go shopping for a birthday present for a family member or a friend you know really well. You look around the shop and you know exactly the sort of things that person would love. It's completely different from trying to buy a gift for someone that you don't really know very well.

I don't know how many soldiers were sheltering with David in the cave that day. Perhaps there were dozens of them; perhaps even hundreds. But only three of them were close enough to hear how much he dreamed of drinking that Bethlehem water. Only three of them cared enough to risk their lives in order to get hold of some of that water for him.

And so that day, and still today, I reflect on the kind of friend I am to God. Have I grown close enough to hear those deep desires of His heart, and do I love Him enough to go the extra mile in making His deep desires come true?

Being a courageous warrior was one way that David's men could serve him and show their loyalty.  But being a close friend and hearing the desires of his heart was an expression of love on a completely different level.

A subtle shift in loyalty ?

Among the many kings of Judah (the southern kingdom after Israel split into two) we read about a man called Ahaz. In 2 Kings chapter 16, when Judah is attacked by the armies of Aram and Israel, King Ahaz is helped (for a price) by King Tiglath-pileser of Assyria, and this leads to a rather interesting shift in Ahaz's loyalties.

When Ahaz meets up with Tiglath-pileser in Damascus, he notices the rather impressive altar that they have there, and decides to have a replica built back in Jerusalem for himself and the people of Judah. The new altar was designed to look exactly like their neighbours' altar that he had seen in Damascus and, from that point forward, the new altar took pride of place in the Temple and all the daily sacrifices were made there.

Ahaz didn't simply get rid of the Lord's altar, though. He kept it for "seeking guidance," but it was removed from its prominent place at the front of the Temple and moved instead to a less visible place on the north side of the new altar. It wasn't that the altar to Yahweh was REplaced, but it was very clearly DISplaced - moved away from the place that rightly belonged to it.

Like King Ahaz, it can be easy for Christians to want to be just like the people around them - to wear the same clothes, watch the same movies, embrace the same ideologies about gender or about whether all faiths lead to God. No one particularly likes to stand out as being different or controversial; it's easier to go with the flow, be like the people around us and try to fit in. 

But, in embracing the lifestyle of the society around them, Christians may be subtly "displacing the true altar." It's not that they reject God or abandon true, biblical faith; rather it's that they move biblical truth and communication with God into the background and give it a place of lesser importance. They still turn to God in an emergency, when they need help or guidance; they still do the Christian thing on a Sunday morning... But on the surface, in most areas of their lives, they look no different from the non-believers around them; they've become a replica of the secular humanists in our modern society.

Displacement leads to drift. Ahaz's actions are a sobering reminder to us to regularly evaluate our lives and make sure that God is truly being given His rightful place and hasn't been subtly shifted to a place of lesser importance.

Don't miss the harvest...

This is normally strawberry season here in Spain. I'm blessed that the weekly fruit and vegetable market is held right in my street. I can usually go out my front door, cross the road and find an amazing array of fresh produce directly from the farmers. (See photos above.) When the strawberry season reaches its peak, I can pick up a big 2-kilo box of the delicious sweet berries for only three euros.

That's not happening this year. Yes, you can still find strawberries in supermarkets, but nothing like the cheap and plentiful amount that is usually available in the open air markets. It got me wondering: Where are all those strawberries? Does coronavirus lockdown mean that they're not being harvested this year? And does that mean that they'll just spoil and go to waste?

I don't know about your country, but here in Spain, we're beginning to read in the newspapers that it's been difficult to find workers to bring in all the strawberries and also the loquats that are so common at this time of year. It really does seem that there's a danger of some of that harvest being lost to us. (If you're not familiar with loquats, you'll see a picture below. We call them níspero here.)

It reminded me of that passage in Matthew 9 vs 37 - 38, where Jesus tells His disciples that the harvest is ready, but that there are few workers to gather it in. And it made me wonder if that human harvest has a time limit on it like our strawberry harvest: if people are receptive to the gospel and ready to accept Jesus, but we don't reach out and "harvest" them in time... do they lose that readiness and is that harvest lost for the kingdom?

I really believe that this pandemic season has confronted many people with their own mortality and that hearts have become more open to hear the gospel. Ask Jesus who in your circle of family or friends is becoming open and ready for "harvesting." Don't miss out on the opportunity to share God's love with them in this very special time.

Being the church in confinement...

I don't know about you, but some of my most vivid memories of these coronavirus lockdown weeks are going to be of computer screens full of multiple faces (like this one I posted on 3rd April) as home confinement forces us to connect online instead of in person.  My work has always involved a certain amount of connecting by Skype or Zoom - for coaching and mentoring, for teaching teleclasses or for international leadership meetings - but now, suddenly, church is happening online too. Sunday morning is our online worship service; Monday evening finds me connecting with our house group; I can even join the prayer meeting of my home church in Scotland. If ever there was a time that proves that the church is not the building, the church is the people, that time is now.

Our local church here in Alhaurín de la Torre is bilingual; that's how God led us when we were planting the church more than twelve years ago now. In fact, we have around 20 different nationalities in the congregation, but we deal mainly with two languages: Spanish and English. That's not quite so challenging when we meet in person: when we gather for Sunday worship, everything happens up front in Spanish and the powerpoint slides for the worship and the preaching are in both languages. However, those who need a bit more help in understanding the message can wear headphones and hear an English translation. I am one of four people who take turns once a month to sit in the church "office" and be the person who translates for the English speakers.

But now, suddenly, we're meeting online instead of in person, and we've been on a journey of finding out how that can work for a two-language congregation. First time round, we tried having the worship leader and then the preacher translated by a spouse or other family member who was sitting next to him/her in their home. We experimented with having the translation typed into the chat window for the English speakers. Finally, this past Sunday, we had worked out how to have closed caption subtitling - with someone typing the translation, which appeared as English subtitles during the worship and prayer times. When it came to the preaching, we separated into two virtual "breakout rooms," so that half the group stayed with the guy who was preaching in Spanish, while the other half opted to "join" another room where they would hear the English translation of the message.

Yesterday's message, given by one of our elders, Sergio, was particularly good, and I share it in the post below for your encouragement. It's about how to keep being church, even when you're in confinement.

Being the church in confinement - Bible examples

Yesterday, in our online Sunday morning worship service, I heard an excellent message about what it means to be the church of God, even when you're not able to meet together in a church building; even when you're confined to your home for one reason or another. The message was given by Sergio Carmet (fourth photo from the left in the above screenshot.) He looked at three times in the Bible that people were confined to their homes, and drew out the lessons that we can learn from those times.

The first passage we looked at was Philippians chapter 1. You probably know that Paul wrote his letter to the Philippians when he was under house arrest and confined to his own home in Rome. Yet he tells the Philippians that his confinement has actually served to advance the gospel. (vs 12) Sergio drew our attention to four things Paul did in confinement, that we can also do during these days.

If you understand Spanish, you can click on this photo to enlarge it and read the original slide. The four things Paul did that we are also encouraged to do are:

• vs 3: remember others and thank God for them.
• vs 4: joyfully embrace the task of praying for others.
• vs 12 - 14: learn to see God's hand at work, advancing the work of His kingdom even amidst these difficult circumstances.
• vs 27: encourage each other to remain faithful, living lives that are worthy of the gospel, even in challenging days.

The second example we looked at was in Exodus 12, the story of the first Passover. This time, the people were ordered to stay in their own homes in order to save their lives; that sounds a little bit like being in quarantine! But it was a confinement that was a preparation for the freedom to come. Not only were the people to spread the blood of the lamb on their doorposts, they were also to wear their coats and shoes, ready for when they could go outdoors again. They were to get ready for the freedom that was to come.

Some principles from Exodus 12 are:

• vs 11: use this time to get ready for when confinement is over; don't waste it.
• vs 4: remember those around you who are alone or in need; don't forget to share what you have.
• vs 26 - 27: these days of being confined at home with your family give us an amazing opportunity to talk about who God is and worship Him together; don't miss out on that.

The third example of confinement we looked at was Noah's ark, which is told in Genesis chapters 6 - 8. You'll remember that Noah and his family, and all the animals, were confined in the boat for a whole year and, once it was all over, they came out to a world that had changed forever, and was completely different from what they had known before. 

I don't how long the impact of Covid-19 will be felt on our world, but one thing is sure: when we come out of home confinement, we're not going to find things the same as they were in January of this year. People are going to be changed and all kinds of things around us will be done differently, possibly for a very long time. From Genesis 8, we saw these two principles:

• vs 6 - 12: recognise that our world is changing during these weeks of confinement, and be ready for that.
• vs 20: when all of this is over, don't forget to keep loving and worshipping God.

When keeping your distance is NOT a good thing...

In these days of coronavirus restrictions, there's been much talk of "social distancing." If we happen to be outside of our own homes - for example, because we're doing our supermarket shopping - we're supposed to stay at least two metres away from everyone else, so that we don't get close enough for the virus to be passed on to us. It makes sense with Covid-19, but this Easter week I've been reminded of a time when keeping at a distance was not a good thing, and actually had tragic consequences.

We've all heard the story of how the disciple Peter denied Jesus three times before the cock crowed. It would have happened yesterday - the Thursday before Easter - when Jesus had been arrested in the garden, and almost all his disciples had fled. To Peter's credit, he didn't completely run away like all the others, but we read in Luke 22: 54 that he followed at a distance. Did he keep his distance quite simply because he was afraid of what might happen to him ... or were there other reasons for his distance? Had he perhaps allowed a little distance to creep into his heart because of things that had happened just previously in the garden of Gethsemane?

You'll remember that Jesus took his disciples with him on that Thursday evening and asked them to watch and pray with Him. But each time He came back to them, He found them asleep. The events of that tumultuous week had completely exhausted them. Mark 14: 37 tells us that He said, "Simon, are you asleep? Couldn't you watch with me even one hour?"

Did Peter feel a little offended at being publicly reproached? After all, everyone had been asleep. Did Peter feel a little hurt and annoyed at being singled out and mentioned by name?

And that wasn't the only thing that had happened that evening. Shortly after the disciples' failure to stay awake for prayer, Judas had arrived with a contingent of Roman soldiers to arrest Jesus. Peter, perhaps still feeling the sting of his recent failure, rose to the challenge, drew a sword and slashed off the ear of one of the men in the group. (See John 18: 10) No doubt his heart's desire was to prove his allegiance to Jesus and to demonstrate that he was willing to defend Him in the face of danger.

But, rather than seeming impressed by Peter's display of loyalty, we read that Jesus turned around and reprimanded him for a second time that evening. "Put your sword away," He said. "Those who live by the sword will die by the sword. I'm not going to avoid the cup of suffering that the Father has prepared for me." (Matthew 26: 52, John 18: 11) And he reached out to heal the ear of the man that Peter had wounded.

Was Peter shocked? Confused? Disappointed? Hurt, offended, or embarrassed at what Jesus had said to him? What happens next, when they arrest Jesus and take him away, is that Peter follows, but now he follows "at a distance." Was he a little wounded, a little mistrustful, a little disappointed that Jesus seemed so weak? For whatever reason, he allowed some distance to creep in, and that set the scene for the denial and betrayal that followed shortly afterwards. The distance was the beginning of a more serious separation in relationship.

It's so easy for this to happen in our own lives. It can happen in our relationship with God - when perhaps we feel disappointed that a prayer seems unanswered or that things don't turn out the way we hoped that they would. We begin to feel angry or offended at God. It can also happen in our relationships with other people - when someone says or does something that hurts us or makes us feel belittled or offended. We begin to distance ourselves in our hearts from that person, and slowly we're setting the scene for more serious alienation, conflict or criticism. How important it is to deal with such things immediately, and not allow distance to separate us from God or from others.

As we enter this Easter weekend, who are you keeping your distance from? Whether you're holding back from God, or holding back from a family member, or a Christian brother or sister, this weekend offers us an opportunity to change that.

When Jesus sacrificed His own life on that Good Friday many centuries ago, He made it possible for us to be reconciled with the Father. Let's not miss the opportunity to use this sacred season for being reconciled with anyone we have "kept at a distance."

When you give up too soon...

Do you remember Jehoash? Maybe not, because his name isn't particularly well known. But you probably do remember an episode from his life that is told briefly for us in 2 Kings 13: 14 - 19.

Jehoash was King of Israel during the days when the prophet Elisha was suffering from the illness that eventually led to his death. The nation of Israel was often being invaded by Aramean raiders and the desperate king went to consult with the dying prophet. Elisha tells him to stand at the window with a bow and arrow, and commands him to shoot an arrow out of the window. Then he tells the king to take the remaining arrows and strike the floor with them.

I've often heard this story used to illustrate that the blessing or victory we receive from God is in accordance with the level of faith we have; in accordance with what we ask for. If you remember the story, Jehoash (who presumably understood what all the arrow banging was about) strikes the ground only three times, and the dying prophet expresses anger at this. Elisha tells Jehoash that if he'd only kept going and struck the ground five or six times, Israel would have continued to beat the Arameans until that enemy was completely destroyed. But because the king stopped after three strikes, they would defeat the enemy only three times.

Re-reading the passage this morning, I got to wondering: was Jehoash's problem really due to lack of faith? Did he strike the ground only three times because he was only able to trust God for three victories. Or was his problem more about pride and presumption? Was he perhaps over-confident in believing that Israel would be able to defeat the Arameans after only three battles?

I realise that, with the coronavirus, there's also a danger of human arrogance when we begin to see breakthroughs - a danger that people and governments will feel that we conquered the enemy in our own strength.

But the same is true of our own prayer life, no matter what we happen to be praying for (or not praying for), including all the things that have nothing to do with the current pandemic.

There's always a danger that we stop praying too soon - either because we don't have faith for God to do more, or because we presumptuously feel that we now have the victory and can handle things ourselves from here on out.

In what areas do you need to be "striking the ground" a few more times this week?

This chapter tells of the very last prophecy in Elisha's lifetime. Read on below for something rather mind-blowing that happened after he was already dead.

A life-giving legacy...

Surely there can be no better legacy than for your life to continue having a powerful impact on others, even after you've gone. That was illustrated for me in a strange little story I read this morning in 2 Kings chapter 13, verses 20 - 21.

The little incident takes place during a funeral, of all things. Some men were in the process of burying a dead body, when suddenly some enemy raiders swept in. So they fled, throwing their dead friend into a nearby grave, which happened to be the grave of the prophet Elisha.  As soon as the corpse touched the bones of the dead prophet,  it immediately came back to life again: the dead guy jumped to his feet (and presumably joined his friends in running away from the enemy.) Wow! Elisha certainly had a powerful legacy - when even his long dead body could give life to someone else.

Any of us who're past retirement age, or even those of us who're younger, would do well to consider the sort of legacy that we want to leave behind us when we leave this world. What do I need to be doing now in order to be able to keep influencing the next generation in the future?

Perhaps we need to turn some of our coronavirus lockdown days into "write down" days: writing down thoughts or testimonies from our own lives that we would want to share in the future with our grandchildren or with people we don't even know .

A friend of mine has recorded a 10 minute video every day since his lockdown began around three weeks ago. He calls them his "Ebenezer stories" (from 1 Samuel 7: 12 - where Samuel sets up a memorial stone to remind the people of how God has helped them.) My friend's Ebenezer stories are short accounts from his own life that he wants to pass on to his two daughters: stories of God's provision or God's protection; stories about when God gave guidance, fulfilled a vision or rescued him from danger. Some of the stories go back to his own childhood and teenage years, some are from when he was a young man, others are things that happened more recently. His goal is to record these stories, new and old, that illustrate for his children who God is and who He can be in their lives in the future.

So, it's a good question to ask ourselves in these coronavirus days: What do I need to be doing now in order to be able to keep influencing the next generation in the future? Perhaps there's something that we need to be recording, either in writing, audio or video. Perhaps we need to use these quarantine days to spend more time worshipping, praying, storytelling or reading God's Word with our children or our grandchildren.

None of us were expecting to be confined to our homes for several weeks.... but what a wonderful opportunity it presents to work on leaving a life-giving legacy for those who will come after us.

The power of unbelief...

We sometimes read or hear stories about the amazing things that result when we activate our faith, but the other day, reading in 2 Kings 7: 1 -2, I was struck by the incredible power there is in unbelief. 

The backdrop to this story, in chapter six, is that the city of Samaria was under siege and a terrible famine had resulted. When the king of Israel hears a horrendous account of cannibalism by the desperate people, his response is to blame the prophet Elisha for the situation. In hard times, it's easy to fall into the trap of looking for someone to blame, instead of pushing in and listening to God's perspective. 

As chapter seven begins, Elisha is speaking to an officer, a messenger sent by the king and, to the man's surprise, Elisha prophesies an end to the famine and an economic turnaround. Maybe the king's employee could have believed the prophecy if Elisha hadn't used the words, "By this time tomorrow..." That timeframe just confirmed its impossibility for the messenger: even if the siege were to end right that minute, there couldn't possibly be that much food again by the next day - and certainly not at the prices that Elisha quoted.

So convinced is the man that this can't happen, that he even adds, "That couldn't happen, even if the Lord opens the windows of heaven." That's the power of unbelief; it causes us to place limits on what God can do.

What usually happens is that the things we refuse to believe do happen but we don't see them. They happen in other places, where people have more faith and don't allow unbelief to cloud their picture of God. In this case, however, the prophet tells the officer, "You will see it happen with your own eyes, but you won't be able to eat any of the food."

If you remember the end of the story (vs 16 - 20) God miraculously routs the enemy army and the people go rushing out of the city to plunder the camp and bring back all the food that suddenly becomes available. This officer happened to be on duty at the city gate and he was trampled to death in the rush. He knew that the miracle of provision was happening, but he was never able to enjoy the blessing of it.

In a less dramatic way, that's what also happens in our own situations of unbelief: the miracles happen, but they happen for other people. That prayer is answered, but we don't get the blessing of it; that vehicle is provided, but it was for someone else; that person is healed and we wonder why it didn't happen for us.

Unbelief doesn't only stop amazing things from happening (like when Jesus was unable to perform any miracles in his own region - see Matt 13: 58) it can also prevent us from enjoying the blessing of them when they do happen.

It's important to mention that doubt and unbelief are not the same thing. Doubt is when we would like to believe something, but we're finding it hard, perhaps because our mind or our past experience tells us that it isn't possible. Unbelief, on the other hand, is when we stubbornly refuse to believe something, even if it's something that God has told us in the Bible. Doubt is a natural response for finite human beings, and we can talk to God honestly about our doubts. Unbelief, however, is a sin, and the Bible tells us that we need to repent of it. It was unbelief that prevented the people of God from entering the Promised Land, and left them wandering in the wilderness for forty years.

If you're struggling with doubts, take them to the Lord and ask Him to strengthen your faith. This was the response of that father of a demonised boy in Mark 9: 24. He was battling doubt (the Greek word is apistia which means weakness of faith) and so he said to Jesus, " I believe. Help me not fall into unbelief."

What is God asking you to believe for this week? 

When your worldwide family is huge..

With many missionaries all around the world being on lockdown, confined to their own homes, we've realised the value of connecting digitally - over Skype or Zoom - with our KKI leaders around the world, especially those who find themselves quite isolated in their nations. This week, we decided to invite people a group call that brought together KKI staff from all around the globe. There was such a big response, that we soon realised the limitations of our Zoom account - which allows only 100 locations to connect at the same time. Even though there were three or four people together in some of the locations, it still meant that fewer than 200 people were able to be there for the call. We've had to buy an upgrade for our Zoom, so that next week we'll be able to connect with up to 500 different locations at the same time. It's makes me realise what a huge ministry family we have, when we connect like that from five continents and three generations.

Opening our eyes..

I've been aware that my reading vision has been deteriorating a bit over the past year, and I find myself having to put on glasses if I'm reading in bed or working on the computer. Inconvenient as it may be at times, I recognise that it's just one of those signs of growing older. 

When it comes to our spiritual sight, on the other hand, we should hopefully be noticing that it grows sharper and more sensitive as we grow older. How tragic it would be to grow older in years without having developed a clearer vision of what's happening in the spiritual realm around us.

Yesterday morning, I was reading a Bible passage about a situation where an older man recognises that the young person with him has not yet developed that kind of spiritual discernment. It was in a time of war and the enemy troops were rallying for the attack. The young man began to panic, not knowing what to do, and so the older man, the prophet Elisha, prayed a simple prayer: Lord, open his eyes and let him see. (2 Kings 6: 17)

If you know the rest of the story, you'll remember that the young man's eyes were opened to see the very real but invisible spiritual reality around him: he saw that the hillside was covered with the heavenly armies of the Lord, ready to fight on their behalf.

In recent newspaper and television reports, I've been hearing people saying that, not since the first and second world wars has our world been in a situation like we're facing at present. If we're not careful, we'll find ourselves responding like Elisha's young servant: seeing only what is visible around us and allowing that to push us into discouragement and despair. How important it is that our spiritual eyes are attuned to the invisible realities around us, so that we keep things in the right perspective.

And so yesterday morning I was turning that prayer into a very personal one: Open my eyes, Lord, and let me see...
1) Let me see what the enemy's agenda is in these times, and understand what he is trying to do.

2) And let me see what God is doing in these times, and how we, His people, can collaborate with Him in that.

When you face the impossible...

What's your usual reaction when you're faced with something impossible? This morning I was reading about two people who had completely opposite reactions to the same impossible situation. One of them was a king, a person of importance... and the other was an unnamed and unknown little girl.

No doubt every Sunday school child has heard the main story of 2 Kings chapter 5 - the story of how Aramean army commander, Naaman, was healed of a terrible skin disease after following the instructions given to him by a prophet of the Lord. Our re-telling of the story usually focuses on those two protagonists: the army commander and the prophet Elisha. We seldom pause to focus on those other two people in the first seven verses: King Joram of Israel and the unnamed little servant girl.

Whenever I lead a workshop about the spiritual capacity of children and youth, I usually invite the participants to search through their Bibles and discover what the Word really teaches about what children are capable of spiritually. Most times they will name this little girl as an example of what they have found out.

We don't know how old she was and we don't know who her parents were, but in just one verse (vs 3) we discover a child who has been raised from a young age to know and trust the God of Israel. Here she is, far from home and with her parents no longer around, yet this little girl believes and courageously speaks out that there is a God in Israel who can heal. There was probably a risk involved in doing that - to suggest to a person of status that only an enemy people's God might be able to heal him.

And I also see here a little girl who has learned the principle of forgiveness. Rather than rejoicing in the misfortune of an enemy (Naaman was, after all, an army commander of the nation that had invaded Israel and "kidnapped" this little girl, taking her away to be a slave) she volunteers information that could lead to his healing and restoring.

The child's testimony must have been convincing, because it's sufficient to make Naaman speak with his king and for this man, the King of Aram, to release him to go to Israel. With his limited understanding of how such things work, the King of Aram sends extravagant gifts of of silver, gold and cloth to Joram, King of Israel, saying, "Here is my employee, Naaman. I want you to heal him of his leprosy."

Faced with exactly the same impossible situation, but in complete contrast to the simple faith of that little girl, King Joram of Israel is plunged into panic and despair by this development. (vs 7) "I'm done for," he says, as he considers this demand from an enemy who had previously invaded his nation. "There's no way I'm able to do this. I'm not God!"

Joram has no instinctive response of saying to himself, "But there is a God in Israel who can do this." No faith-filled thoughts of, "What an amazing opportunity this is for our enemies to see that our God is the one true God." (Of course, Joram had long ago allowed other gods to creep into his life and into the nation.)

The difference between King Joram and that unnamed little girl was that the child was firmly convinced of what God could do. The king, on the other hand, had his focus on what he himself couldn't do, instead of on what the Almighty God could do.

Where is our focus when we run into challenges or difficulties and are faced with things that we ourselves can't change? Is our response to fall into fear or worry, or perhaps to scramble to find a solution in our own strength? Or do we have the same faith as that little child, firmly convinced that this is a wonderful opportunity for God to prove Himself? 

Whether we're facing a personal situation, a family situation, a ministry challenge or a worldwide pandemic, will our response be to focus on what we or other people can't do, or to focus on what our all-powerful God can do?

One size fits all? Not with God!

I love 2 Kings chapter 4. At various times in the past, God has spoken personally to me from the lives of these two women. Reading it again this week, it struck me how very different these women were. One is poor and the other is wealthy. One is a widow and the other still has a husband. One is blessed with two sons and the other has no children at all. But no matter how different their life circumstances were, God met each of these women at the point of her greatest need or dream.

For the poor widow, the needs were as basic as it gets: it was about survival in a time of famine. She and her two sons needed food and finance. We've all heard the story of how God provided for that need. The prophet Elisha told the woman to go and collect all kinds of empty containers from her friends and neighbours. Then she began pouring from her small pitcher of left over oil, and the oil didn't run out until every container was filled. 

The amount of provision didn't depend on how much God was willing to give; it depended on how many containers the woman had taken the time to collect. If she had collected ten containers,  God would have filled them; if she spent a bit more time calling on neighbours and collected fifty containers, God was just as willing to fill every single one of them. This woman was in great need, and God was completely able to meet that need, but He still asked her to do her part; she needed to be willing to have faith for lots of containers to be filled.  The oil she poured that day not only fed herself and her sons; she was also able to sell it and to pay off all her debts.

It's exactly the same with our spiritual lives; the extent to which we experience God doesn't depend on how much He wants to reveal Himself; it depends on how much time and dedication we're willing to put in to be a receptive "container." Why do some people see more answered prayers than others? Probably because they pray more. Why do some people find that their times in the Bible are more meaningful than other people do? Probably because they read more.

You may feel "poor" in spiritual things, but be like this widow and begin with what you have. Use this coronavirus lockdown time to spend time in God's presence, to meditate on His Word, to pray for people you know and for those around the world that you don't know. God will be faithful to fill any "containers" that we bring to Him.

The second woman's situation was completely different; the Bible tells us that she was wealthy, and was able to use her wealth to offer regular and generous hospitality to the prophet Elisha. So when he asks her, "What can I do for you?" she replies that she is well taken care of and has everything she needs. But this woman had welcomed the prophetic presence of God into her life and her home, and God goes the extra mile to grant a secret unspoken desire of her heart: she is childless and her husband is old, but God nonetheless promises her that she will have a son.

That is so like the God that we know and serve. He has promised to meet all of our needs, and He is constantly, faithfully doing that throughout our lives. But His love for us is so extravagant that He also longs to go a step further and grant us the most secret dreams of our hearts.  

There's a well known scripture in Psalm 37 that says, "Delight yourself in the Lord and He will give you the desires of your heart." The more we allow God to shape and transform our lives, the more likely it is that our deepest desires will be things that bring joy to His heart. I remember when I was working with youth ministry training courses in South Africa, I asked the students to do a piece of homework that involved choosing a Bible word or theme and looking up the Hebrew and Greek words that are used whenever it is mentioned in the Bible. One student chose the word, "delight," and so her study included this verse from Psalm 37. What a surprise she got to discover that the Hebrew word used in this verse is ânag, which means to be soft and pliable. That wasn't at all what she had expected. She had imagined that "delighting in the Lord" would be something to do with enjoying or taking pleasure in Him. That's important too, but what a revelation it was to her to realise that truly delighting in God means that we will be tender and pliable in His hands, open to hear His voice and do His will. With that kind of spirit, it's so easy for the desires of our heart to be fulfilled.

So which of these two woman is most like you today? Do you have a need that He can meet for you today? Or do you feel that you have everything you need, but perhaps you have a secret dream or desire that you've never even dared to speak out? There's no "one size fits all" with God. He is so personal and He meets each one of us where we are at. Bring Him your need or your heart's desire and lay that before Him today. He longs to spend time with you.