"Here, read this book, it's exactly what I believe and what I want to teach my children about who I think God is."
The last part of her sentence was telling... "who I think God is."
In this case, coming from the lips of a self-proclaimed atheist, "who she thinks God is" is quite contrary to the God of the Scriptures. I took the book, thumbed through it, promised to read it, grateful she would share it with me. I watched her children play on a blanket as my thoughts swirled with a silent response that God has already revealed to us who He is, and that description hasn't changed an ounce since He revealed himself to Moses as "I AM."
Later that evening, back in the comfort of my own home, I realized I'd felt a little anxious spending the evening with this family. This couple has welcomed us into their lives, but I feel like I'm walking on eggshells when we're together. They have boldly communicated their disdain for Christ and Christians alike, and well, that includes Corbin and me. I feel like if I say the wrong thing or comment on my own faith they'll be outta there - and our friendship vanishing with it.
Thinking through my anxious feelings, I realized a couple of things. One, I really enjoy these friends. They're funny and smart and tender and endearing. And for some reason they like us. And two, no one cares more about their hearts and salvation than God - I AM - does.
I am again hit between the eyes (and refreshed and relieved) with the fact that I don't have to convince these friends about who God is, or of Jesus' saving grace. I can rest in my faith and in just being myself, and it's not my concern to justify or defend God or Jesus or what I believe. I'm reminded that Jesus is exquisite and lovely and STRONG. He is quite capable of drawing people to Himself (as He did with me), and he doesn't need to be defended. He can and will speak for himself. A couple of Sundays ago in a sermon on Scripture as God's writings to us, Pastor Kitchens concluded, "The Bible is a LION. We don't have to defend it."
Thank goodness.
The last part of her sentence was telling... "who I think God is."
In this case, coming from the lips of a self-proclaimed atheist, "who she thinks God is" is quite contrary to the God of the Scriptures. I took the book, thumbed through it, promised to read it, grateful she would share it with me. I watched her children play on a blanket as my thoughts swirled with a silent response that God has already revealed to us who He is, and that description hasn't changed an ounce since He revealed himself to Moses as "I AM."
Later that evening, back in the comfort of my own home, I realized I'd felt a little anxious spending the evening with this family. This couple has welcomed us into their lives, but I feel like I'm walking on eggshells when we're together. They have boldly communicated their disdain for Christ and Christians alike, and well, that includes Corbin and me. I feel like if I say the wrong thing or comment on my own faith they'll be outta there - and our friendship vanishing with it.
Thinking through my anxious feelings, I realized a couple of things. One, I really enjoy these friends. They're funny and smart and tender and endearing. And for some reason they like us. And two, no one cares more about their hearts and salvation than God - I AM - does.
I am again hit between the eyes (and refreshed and relieved) with the fact that I don't have to convince these friends about who God is, or of Jesus' saving grace. I can rest in my faith and in just being myself, and it's not my concern to justify or defend God or Jesus or what I believe. I'm reminded that Jesus is exquisite and lovely and STRONG. He is quite capable of drawing people to Himself (as He did with me), and he doesn't need to be defended. He can and will speak for himself. A couple of Sundays ago in a sermon on Scripture as God's writings to us, Pastor Kitchens concluded, "The Bible is a LION. We don't have to defend it."
Thank goodness.
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