Trials & Testing

Throughout life, it seems that the trials of my faith prove just how little of it I have. I could assume the nickname for myself that Jesus compassionately created for His disciples, “Little-faith ones”. The trying circumstances in which Jesus used this unique term are recorded in Matthew’s Gospel, and they highlight reactions to life that come much more naturally - at least to me - than faith does.

Anxiety: “Will He not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? Therefore do not be anxious…” Matthew 6:30-31. 

Draw me into dependence on You as my Father. You’re enough for today.

Fear: “Why are you afraid, O you of little faith?” Matthew 8:26.  

Calm me as my Creator, present with me in the rocking boat.

Doubt: “O you of little faith, why did you doubt?” Matthew 14:31. 

Reassure me as my Rescuer with your reliable Word and steady hand.

Inattention: “O you of little faith, why are you discussing among yourselves the fact that you have no bread?...Do you not perceive? Don’t you remember the five loaves…or the seven loaves?” Matthew 16:5-12.  

Show me all your past evidence as Provider, so that I trust you right now. 

May we respond to this nickname like the apostles did in humble desperation before the Lord, “Increase our faith!” Luke 17:5.

“If you have faith like a grain of mustard seed…nothing will be impossible for you.” Matthew 17:20. 

Matthew 6:1-18

There are a few chapters in the Bible that I come back to regularly, no matter the season, and they always seem to apply, no matter the situation. They’re the chapters that have, over time, most deeply shaped and reshaped my view of God, myself, and my place in His kingdom on earth. When I question if God cares for me, doubt my identity, battle anxiety, forget the priorities, think it’s all vanity,...they’re the chapters that center me. I might call them my personal formation chapters. 

One of them is Matthew 6. If you skim through it, you might notice how many times the word Father is repeated, a sure sign that this is a theme.  I counted twelve times, the most famous found in verse 9, when Jesus teaches his disciples to begin their prayers by addressing, “Our Father in heaven…” He used a similar phrase in the first verse of this chapter, which means He’s told us twice that our Father is in heaven. 

There is certainly consolation in that. Our Father is in a place above all things, so nothing is outside of His authority. Our Father is in a place of perfection, so our future with Him will be whole. Our Father is in a place of eternality, so His existence is unending. 

But is heaven the only place to be assured of our Father’s presence? So often, heaven seems like a land far away, somewhere over the rainbow. Where on earth is our Father when you’re quietly working a side job to support someone in need, thanklessly changing diapers and treating fevers at midnight, regularly showing up for a friend with cancer, achingly praying for a spouse?  Is the Father loftily observing from a distance?

Verses 6 and 18 whisper the answer, doubly emphasizing another place we find our Father, calling Him “your Father who is in secret.” The very Father who is in heaven, is your Father in secret, unseen moments. If I believe what Jesus repeats twice about our Father in a heavenly place, then I lean into what He repeats twice about my Father in a hidden place. He is invisible, and the invisible is what catches His eye. 

Your unannounced giving, unobserved praying, and unnoticed fasting are where your Father waits to reward you.  But maybe it’s because those are the moments we linger in least and publicize most, that we don’t experience His presence like He intends. Maybe it’s because we hate to feel invisible, that we aren’t transformed to His likeness as He intends.

Giving. Praying. Fasting.

In which of these practices are you joining your Father’s invisibility to enjoy His presence more fully?

Habakkuk for the Holidays

Habakkuk 1

If I’m honest, when I pray, I have two categories of expectation: the means God uses to answer my prayer and the timing in which God answers. The means include certain types of people or situations through which I expect God to work or make changes. My expectation on timing usually = fast.  

Habakkuk has been pleading for God to intervene in the sinfulness he sees around him, but God’s answer comes with a warning that He’s working through means Habakkuk is not expecting. He’s not sending a prophet, or an angel, or a Proverbs 31 woman to show the way. “You wouldn’t believe it if I told you,” God says. 

He goes on to tell Habakkuk that His chosen tool of judgment on His people’s disobedience is the self-absorbed, dreaded enemy, the Babylonians, who use people for their own idolatrous ends. And God was right - Habakkuk is shocked that this is God’s answer to the perversion in his world. To Habakkuk, the Babylonians are even more depraved than Israel. How can God use depravity to correct those who don’t seem to be nearly as evil? God didn’t seem to notice that the enemy’s victory just fueled their pride. 

Generations prior, this was the consequence God had actually told them would come if His people walked away from Him. Reeling from the understanding that this is God’s means, Habakkuk has a new question about timing.  The opening verse began with his question, “How long will I cry out and you won’t answer?”,  but in the final verse of the chapter, it shifts to, “Will the enemy’s rampage go on forever?!” Chapter 1 is bookended by critiques about timing. “How long?…forever?”

What do we do when God’s means and His timing confuse us? We keep reading into Habakkuk 2:1 for his response: we station ourselves in expectation, like a guard on a tower, to look out with eyes of faith. My station is on a built-in window bench in our living room where I anticipate hearing from God as I wrestle through his seemingly questionable means or timing in response to my prayers. Stepping into this new year, do you have a physical location that represents spiritual expectation?