Jehovah-Jireh

I keep discovering that God is a God who provides.

I’m starting to notice a pattern.  A few years ago with summer quickly approaching, I anxiously held my breath wondering whether one of my internship opportunities was going to open up.  A meaningful internship would be an important step toward law school on my resume; another summer at McDonalds would not be.  As the hour grew late, it was looking bleak, and then I received a call from Governor Granholm’s office.  What an opportunity!  This indeed was a step toward law school.

Then on the eve of last summer.  On the one hand, it was imperative that I make some significant income for my school expenses.  On the other hand, I once again needed something that would improve my resume on my progression toward law school.  I had several leads and was disheartened as each one folded.  What’s going on God?  Why not this one?  Why not that one?  Are You going to provide?  And once again, just as things were looking bleak, an opportunity far better than the leads I had been chasing suddenly opened up:  a summer as the Tibbits assistant box office manager.

This keeps happening.  And in the last few weeks and months, through the love and generosity of family, friends, and my family in Christ both in Coldwater and at the Chapel here in Williamsburg, I see God once again providing what I need.  As this Fellows Program draws near with the sizeable financial cost that it involves, I’d be lying if I said that I hadn’t quietly fretted, quietly wondered where the provision was going to come from.  What’s going on God?  I thought it was Your will that I commit to this program.  I thought this was where You wanted me to be next year.  How is this all going to work out?

Yes, I’m learning more and more that God provides all we need to do what He has purposed for us to do.  If God feeds the sparrows and clothes the lilies, surely He will provide for me.  Jesus instructs us, “ask and you will receive.”  Grammatically, this verse is more accurately rendered, “keep asking and you will receive.”  We must keep approaching the throne of grace and petitioning God.  And sometimes I wonder if I’m petitioning enough, but I know that even when we’re faithless, God is faithful.  Although I still have a ways to go to meet my financial obligations for the program, I have a sense of peace and assurance knowing that God’s blessing is with me in this.

I recall the words of a worship song that I grew up singing at the Coldwater Nazarene Church.  I didn’t understand the words then.  I’m beginning to understand them now:

Jehovah-Jireh my Provider

His grace is sufficient

For me, for me, for me

Jehovah-Jireh my Provider

His grace is sufficient for me.

My God shall supply all my needs

According to His riches in Glory

He will give His angels charge over me

Jehovah-Jireh cares for me,

For me, for me,

Jehovah-Jireh cares for me.

More Than Facebook Friends

A few years ago, Ravi Zacharias came to William & Mary to speak on campus.  Ravi was raised Hindu in India before becoming an atheist and eventually a Christian.  He has become a world renowned apologist making it his mission to argue for the validity of Christian theology against opposing belief systems such as atheism and other religions.

In reading his books and listening to him speak, he holds no punches.  He exudes self-confidence in the convictions he holds dear.  And he welcomes any objection, any question, and while he answers it with sincere love, there is an undeniable assertiveness about his demeanor.  And so when one student rose and asked a question during his campus visit, Ravi’s answer was surprisingly unexpected.  The student asked, “If you could ask God one question, what would it be?”

Ravi thought for a moment.  “I would ask Him why He made it so hard to believe in Him.”

Wait a minute.  In a moment of vulnerable honesty, the guy who was comfortably bashing atheism one moment would ask God why it is so hard to believe in Him?

Why is it so hard to believe in God sometimes?  And often believing in God isn’t so much the issue—why is it so hard to know God sometimes?  To know Him more?  And not knowing about God.  There is plenty to know about God.  From Sunday School to systematic theologies, Bible readings to sermons, it is easy to learn a lot about God, but to really know God.  There is the labor.

In our electronic, Internet age, its easy to see the difference between genuinely knowing other people and merely knowing about them.  I think I have over 500 Facebook friends, and there is absolutely no way I know 500 people on this planet.  In fact, the number of people I truly know on a deep, personal level I could probably count on my two hands.  It’s easy to accept a friend invitation on Facebook.  But if you really want to know someone, you have to be intentional.

And so sometimes I feel like God is my Facebook friend.  It’s interesting to see what His favorite hymns or famous quotes are or to see what He has listed as His political views, but then I have this yearning to go beyond all that.  I want to know who this God is and what His hopes and dreams are and what makes His heart heavy with sorrow and what gives Him joy.

And I realize in these moments that I need to be more intentional.  Text message prayers won’t do.  And I know it takes time, perhaps a lifetime, or more.  But therein lies the reward.  As I come to know the living God more and more, I realize that this isn’t some cheap Facebook status.  This is real.  This is reality at its rawest.  And the more I come to know God, the more I realize how mysterious He is, which only increases my yearning.

Cease Striving And Know That I Am God

Graduation, moving apartments, last class, homework, LSAT, wedding, full-time job, part-time job, odds and ends—it’s May and suddenly I turn around and it’s July.  What a whirlwind!

And then there is Psalm 46.  “Cease striving and know that I am God” (v. 10).  Striving and striving and striving.  There are those times in life when it seems that all it is is striving.  Sometimes we strive so much that we don’t even have time to know that He is God.  And it’s times like that that I often feel dry and parched.  I feel weak because I forget that God is my strength.  I feel vulnerable because I forget that God is my refuge, my stronghold.

Verses 4 and 5 of this beautiful psalm describe the City of God in which the Most High dwells.  The psalmist notes that God is in the city and the city will not be moved.  Charles Spurgeon asks, “How can she be moved unless her enemies move her Lord also? His presence renders all hope of capturing and demolishing the city utterly ridiculous” (Treasury of David).  If we are truly dwelling in the midst of that city, then it is illogical to fear.  So why do we so often fear, and more importantly, are we really dwelling in that city?

The psalmist has such confidence in God as to proclaim, “We will not fear, though the earth should change and though the mountains slip into the heart of the sea” (v. 2).  Sometimes a mere tremor is enough to send me quaking, like the other day when I realized at work that I had left the dryer running while no one was home.  For a while, all I could think about was coming home to find a giant ash heap.  Not that it’s good to leave unattended dryers running, but that’s hardly the ocean gulping up Mt. Everest.

I find myself needing to remember that, “The Lord of hosts is with us,” or rather, the Lord of hosts is with me. 

He is with me...

He is with me...

He is with me...