Jesus heard that they had thrown him out, and when he found him, he said, “Do you believe in the Son of Man?”  “Who is he, sir?” the man asked. “Tell me so that I may believe in him.” Jesus said, “You have now seen him; in fact, he is the one speaking with you.” Then the man said, “Lord, I believe,” and he worshiped him. Jesus said, “For judgment I have come into this world, so that the blind will see and those who see will become blind.” Some Pharisees who were with him heard him say this and asked, “What? Are we blind too?” Jesus said, “If you were blind, you would not be guilty of sin; but now that you claim you can see, your guilt remains. John 9:35-41

He said, “Go and tell this people:

“‘Be ever hearing, but never understanding;

    be ever seeing, but never perceiving.’

Make the heart of this people calloused;

    make their ears dull

    and close their eyes.

Otherwise they might see with their eyes,

    hear with their ears,

    understand with their hearts,

and turn and be healed.” Isaiah 6:9-10

Because I have some pretty poor eyesight, I have a pretty thick prescription—not quite coke bottles, but close. If I take off my glasses for any reason, the running joke is that I am as blind as a bat. I can’t see anything more than blobs of bleary colors. Yet, once I put my glasses on, everything comes into view! I can once again see the details of faces, read words, and distinguish colors, shapes, and pictures.

I wonder if Jesus longed to give the Pharisees spiritual glasses. How sad He must have been to see them majoring on minors, asking wrong questions, and settling for less. I wonder if He is just as sad when we do the same.

This whole narrative is centered around a man born into blindness. He was never able to see a sunrise, the faces of friends and family, a rainbow of colors, or even just be able to read words. Yet, in a moment Jesus healed Him, completely restoring his sight and allowing him to experience what he had never experienced before—connection to the world around him and those he held dear. Can you imagine what that must have been like?

This healing is cause for great celebration, but the Pharisees can only find fault. They wonder who is this Jesus man who heals, under what authority is He healing, and how it is that this bilind man came to be healed on the Sabbath. In doing so, they miss the point—a man was restored and God was glorified!

Jesus mourns their spiritual blindness. These individuals who spent so much time studying the law of God couldn’t seem to see the forest for the trees. These ones who so self-righteously proclaimed their togetherness, couldn’t seem to put 2 and 2 together.

However, this man who is blind from birth, not only receives his physical sight, but also gains great spiritual sight. He doesn’t so much care who or how this miracle was done, but he knows that he is healed in sight, in purpose, in status, and in spirit. He knows that this man, this beautiful Jesus, gave him sight, and furthermore he believes he is from God. How like God’s upside-down Kingdom!

Today, take a moment to listen to your favorite version of “Amazing Grace” and journal the ways God has taken you from lost-ness and blindness in your own journey.

By Sheila Rennau

I heard and my heart pounded,

my lips quivered at the sound;

decay crept into my bones,

and my legs trembled.

Yet I will wait patiently for the day of calamity

to come on the nation invading us.

Though the fig tree does not bud

and there are no grapes on the vines,

though the olive crop fails

and the fields produce no food,

though there are no sheep in the pen

and no cattle in the stalls,

yet I will rejoice in the Lord,

I will be joyful in God my Savior. 

The Sovereign Lord is my strength;

he makes my feet like the feet of a deer,

he enables me to tread on the heights.

Habakkuk 3:16-19

Have you ever been in awe? I’m talking, eyes-wide-mouth-gaping-I-think-I-just-stopped-breathing awe. Perhaps it was at some natural wonder you beheld, fantastic or long awaited news, the sweetness in a time of worship, or perhaps just a realization that you had never had before, and the implications could change everything.

After all his wrestling with God, Habakkuk discovered that at the end of the day, he really only has two options: he can either praise or he can pout. To praise will usher in a trust, awe and surrender to God’s ways, which are higher than his own, and will take both courage and vulnerability. To pout will be to assume a stiff-necked and stubborn posture, and shrink back from God’s goodness, grace and sovereignty in the moment and future. Habakkuk wisely remembers both his humanity and God’s supremacy, and opts to praise.

But how does he praise? This isn’t just merely a spontaneous spouting of joy. Habakkuk looks back through history at what God has done, and that gives him the courage to hope and trust in God for the future, despite the outcome. He knows God will see both him and his nation through.
The invading Babylonians were known for being utterly ruthless and wreaking havoc. For an agricultural economy, ruin was eminent if a crop or herd failed. Yet notice the progression. It begins with simple inconvenience and progresses to more egregious losses:

• figs not budding, a symbol of pleasure
• failing grapes, a sign of joy and prosperity,
• lack of olives, used for comfort, food, light, and to anoint,
• vanquished crops, no food, and finally
• pens empty of sheep and cattle, used for food, clothing and sacrifices.
  

What Habakkuk is saying is essentially, “Lord, no matter how bad it gets, even if you strip us bare of all we know, of our very way of life, still will we trust and praise you”. This echoes the prayer of Job in similar circumstances when he said, “Though He slay me, yet will I praise Him.” Job 13:15
Habakkuk’s unwavering trust in God is what enabled him to not only to praise in hard circumstances, but to have the strength and nimbleness of a deer on the heights, steady and sure.

This week, take a moment to reflect on all that God has brought you through in your life and current circumstances. Then write a prayer of praise of your own, like Habakkuk’s.

By Sheila Rennau

How long, Lord, must I call for help,

but you do not listen?

Or cry out to you, “Violence!”

but you do not save?

Why do you make me look at injustice?

Why do you tolerate wrongdoing?

Destruction and violence are before me;

there is strife, and conflict abounds.

Therefore the law is paralyzed,

and justice never prevails.

The wicked hem in the righteous,

so that justice is perverted. Habakkuk 1:2-4

It was an incident that never should have happened. It was unethical, unjust and all around just plain unfair; and I was angry, hurt and disillusioned. Those that I trusted, the ones that should have had my back…didn’t, so I felt betrayed. So, with a broken heart, I did the only thing I knew to do—I cried out to the Lord for help, comfort, refuge and strength.

Habakkuk must have felt the same. His circumstances too were pretty deplorable. Israel was once again stuck in a cycle of perpetual sinning. Like kids on a road trip, he cried out before the Lord with the gut wrenching cry: “How long?” How long would they continue to turn away? How long would he prophesy until he was blue in the face? How long would their torment by opposing nations be? These are all hard and weighty questions with no easy answers. But Habakkuk was unafraid to ask them, embrace reality, and wrestle with God over them. It’s no wonder Habakkuk means “wrestler” and “embracer”. And God honored the honest questions.

I think sometimes we treat God like a human. We forget He is God, supreme over all, and fear that our problems are too big, small, messy, or strange for Him. But the opposite is true. Jeremiah 32:27 asks, is there anything too difficult for God? He is not bothered or burdened with our needs. He is the Good Shepherd who dearly loves His little flock like children. In fact He loves us so much, He asks us to call Him Father. Like a good father, Jesus’ heart is echoed in Psalm 27:8, “My heart has heard you say, ‘Come and talk with me,” and my heart responds, “LORD, I am coming!’” God is not easily put off. He can handle all of our questions, doubts, longings, audacious dreams, frustrations, junk, and struggles. He longs for us to be real, vulnerable, sincere, stripped free of encumberment, and to come boldly before His throne.

Perhaps it’s time to carve out some time to enter your “prayer closet” and have a real, un-canned, unplanned conversation with God. You can do this just by talking to Him, or even by journaling. It’s ok to be real and raw in this time. The point is just to come in a posture of humble surrender, allowing God to hear and wash over you with His love.

By Sheila Rennau

The Israelites did evil in the eyes of the Lord, and for seven years he gave them into the hands of the Midianites. Because the power of Midian was so oppressive, the Israelites prepared shelters for themselves in mountain clefts, caves and strongholds. Whenever the Israelites planted their crops, the Midianites, Amalekites and other eastern peoples invaded the country. They camped on the land and ruined the crops all the way to Gaza and did not spare a living thing for Israel, neither sheep nor cattle nor donkeys. They came up with their livestock and their tents like swarms of locusts. It was impossible to count them or their camels; they invaded the land to ravage it. Midian so impoverished the Israelites that they cried out to the Lord for help… The angel of the Lord came and sat down under the oak in Ophrah that belonged to Joash the Abiezrite, where his son Gideon was threshing wheat in a winepress to keep it from the Midianites. When the angel of the Lord appeared to Gideon, he said, “The Lord is with you, mighty warrior.” Judges 6:1-5, 11-12

Have you been there? That place where you are simultaneously left scratching your head and shaking in your boots? You’re afraid, a bit clueless, and unsure where to go, turn, or exactly what to do? In fact, you have momentarily forgotten who you really are.

That’s where we find our boy, Gideon. But it is so like God to meet Gideon right where he is at—in the winepress and in his fear. Not only does He meet Gideon here in the manifestation of the Angel of the LORD, but He speaks to Gideon’s internal darkness by addressing Him as a “Mighty Warrior,” calling him to do more than Gideon thought possible, and reminding Gideon that He was with him. God saw the circumstances of Gideon, and he would address those, but God was more concerned with the identity of Gideon—so He reminds Gideon of what He sees in him, which is so much more than meets the eye, despite his lack of status and poor current circumstances.

How we need this word to our hearts too! In our world today we don’t face an oppressing army of ruthless Midianites, but we face “enemies” that are just as daunting: joblessness, health concerns, troubled marriages, wayward children, and a myriad of other unwanted trials. Like Gideon, we can feel so lost, hopeless and useless, but God desires to call us by a different name—a name unique to each of us. He longs to speak into our darkness and speak identity over us and to use what seems unusable, or even crazy, for His glory (See 1Cor, 1:18-31). He lovingly reminds us that He sees us as His children from our futures and not our pasts, and He can use us—broken parts and all.

This week, engage in this creative practice: On your bathroom mirror, or sheet of paper if you are more comfortable, list all the things you think of yourself—don’t censor this list. Circle back and ask God to help you detect any lies. Where there are lies, go to His Word and counter these lies with Scripture. Meditate on these truths and walk in the freedom they bring this week, and in the weeks to come. You might even want to take some time to meditate on these truths while listening to Lauren Daigle’s “You Say” or Chris Tomlin’s “Good, Good Father.”

By Sheila Rennau

Abigail acted quickly. She took two hundred loaves of bread, two skins of wine, five dressed sheep, five seahs of roasted grain, a hundred cakes of raisins and two hundred cakes of pressed figs, and loaded them on donkeys. Then she told her servants, “Go on ahead; I’ll follow you.” But she did not tell her husband Nabal. As she came riding her donkey into a mountain ravine, there were David and his men descending toward her, and she met them.  David had just said, “It’s been useless—all my watching over this fellow’s property in the wilderness so that nothing of his was missing. He has paid me back evil for good. May God deal with David, be it ever so severely, if by morning I leave alive one male of all who belong to him!” When Abigail saw David, she quickly got off her donkey and bowed down before David with her face to the ground. 1 Samuel 25:18-23

Though it is not my primary love language, I am a gift-giver at heart. It is not uncommon for me to spend hours poring over a personalized, hand-made gift, or meticulously planning a purchase. Gifts matter. They are a way to communicate love, joy, significance and honor.
In our passage today, Abigail wisely gathers choice breads, cheeses, meats, and fruit to appease the wrath of David. Talk about a picnic fit for the coming king and his men! They say the quickest way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, but this gift reached much further—all the way to his sensibilities. This gift was extravagant, yet also timely.

I wish I could have been here to see this scene unfold, don’t you? Artist Sir Peter Paul Reuben beautifully depicts this scene for us, in his work The Meeting of David and Abigail. Though the painting has a more Renaissance flare, don’t miss the emotion, the postures, and the humility depicted.

As you read this narrative, surely, you can pick up the tension. David has just been insulted by Abigail’s foolish husband, Nabal. Emotions and tempers are high. David, angry and irrational, is bent on bloodshed for this infraction. Yet, here is Abigail, in the true vein of a hero, emptying her cupboards in haste, and running to meet the need. She sends the food ahead of her, then quickly follows to meet the injured party. Note that it would have been easy and even acceptable to just give a small gift, but Abigail goes further—she sends a lavish gift, and she sends herself, bowing in honor before the soon-to-be king. This is a true mark of honor.

How like God! Does God, in His goodness and lavish love, not also send His good gifts ahead of Himself, and then run in haste to meet us right where we are at, in our irrational anger, pain and sin? Romans 2:4 reminds us that it is God’s kindness that leads us to repentance. So too, it was Abigail’s quick thinking, kindness and honor that turned the head of David and caused him to relent.
This week, I challenge you to find someone in your circle of influence—a boss, co-worker, spouse, relative or friend and give them a gift of honor. It doesn’t necessarily have to be a physical gift. It could just simply be a note of appreciation, or even a gift of your time.

By Sheila Rennau

Then the king of Egypt summoned the midwives and asked them, “Why have you done this? Why have you let the boys live?” The midwives answered Pharaoh, “Hebrew women are not like Egyptian women; they are vigorous and give birth before the midwives arrive.” Exodus 1:18-19

We all remember the childhood story of Pinocchio, the little wooden boy whose nose grew when he told a lie. He goes on an epic adventure to find the virtue of telling the truth. Many parents have used this story to drive home the teaching on honesty to their children—I know mine certainly did!
Truth-telling matters. It matters deeply to all of us, and it matters to God. It’s why He instructed His people in the Law to not bear false witness. God knew that once a fib was told, trust was broken. It makes sense. All of us have been on the losing end of lying at some point or another. Honestly, we really don’t think about lying much…until it pops up in this story and others in Scripture, and we see those who lied are honored by the Lord.
Say what?!! How could this be? If lying is wrong, if it goes against all that is part of God’s best, then why were these Hebrew midwives honored? What about in other places in Scripture, such as the account of Rehab, who hid the spies, or all those who lied for David as he hid? What about accounts in our modern history such as the Underground Railroad, the Holocaust, or the Rwandan Genocide? These individuals too were honored for…lying. Why? How do we wrestle with this very apparent tension?

We live in a complicated world where this answer is not so easy to tease out, and there are no clear cut answers. For some cultures, shame is a greater offense than lying, so when faced with two evils, the lesser of the two is chosen. In the scenarios listed above, the choice needed to be made whether to save a life or tell the truth. Both are important. The lies were not spoken for selfish gain, but to protect another. This doesn’t make the lie “ok,” but in a Kingdom where God always values people over process, the lesser evil is to tell the lie. In some situations we must do as Lysa Terkeurst says, and do the next right thing, which unfortunately isn’t always clear cut. This is why we must continually come before God and ask Him what the next right thing is.

This is a hard tension to wrestle with. I invite you to lean into this tension this week and watch the film, The Good Lie. It is a wonderful example of doing the wrong thing for the right reason.

By Sheila Rennau

When Mephibosheth son of Jonathan, the son of Saul, came to David, he bowed down to pay him honor. David said, “Mephibosheth!” “At your service,” he replied. “Don’t be afraid,” David said to him, “for I will surely show you kindness for the sake of your father Jonathan. I will restore to you all the land that belonged to your grandfather Saul, and you will always eat at my table.” Mephibosheth bowed down and said, “What is your servant, that you should notice a dead dog like me?” Then the king summoned Ziba, Saul’s steward, and said to him, “I have given your master’s grandson everything that belonged to Saul and his family. You and your sons and your servants are to farm the land for him and bring in the crops, so that your master’s grandson may be provided for. And Mephibosheth, grandson of your master, will always eat at my table.” (Now Ziba had fifteen sons and twenty servants.) Then Ziba said to the king, “Your servant will do whatever my lord the king commands his servant to do.” So Mephibosheth ate at David’s[a] table like one of the king’s sons. Mephibosheth had a young son named Mika, and all the members of Ziba’s household were servants of Mephibosheth. And Mephibosheth lived in Jerusalem, because he always ate at the king’s table; he was lame in both feet. 2 Samuel 9:6-13

Fear. Fear was the name of my constant companion; my frenemy both familiar and hounding. Fear was with me the day my father went to war never to return, and my nursemaid dropped my five-year-old frame, crippling me in both feet. It was fear that woke me in the still, aching night, demoralizing me with thoughts of what would become of a paralyzed, dead dog like me. Would I beg my way through life; cast out and utterly alone? Would I live to see my children’s children? Would I even know the blessing of a wife and child?

Now, it is fear that keeps me wringing my hands, for surely I am as good as dead. I have been summoned by the king. Oh what could he possibly want of me? Surely he will snuff me out like a smoldering wick. I can feel the quaking in my middle, and the sweat, cold and menacing, roll down my back.

I have never known such grandeur as a palace, though I should. I was in line after my father Jonathan to be the next king of Israel, but now…now all that has been stripped away. The finery around me all but vanishes as I spy the king’s eyes. They are not the piercing eyes of an enemy, but offer the warm welcome of a friend. He calls my name in exultation and proclaims his goodness and kindness over me. Me! Not only that, but I can hardly believe my ears!! I have been invited as a permanent member of the king’s table! In his kindness and love, the king is choosing to honor me as he honored and loved my father before me. Not only this, but I have been given means of income through the land given to me that my servant Ziba can tend. No hand-out here. I will gladly serve my king. Surely I am undeserving…and yet, how can I refuse such a lavish gift?

South, Mephibosheth’s story is our own. Lame and ravaged by sin, we were hopeless; goners for sure. Like Mephibosheth, we too have been summoned by the King, invited not only to his table, but into His family forever. Now we are co-heirs with Christ, bought by the blood of the Lamb. How can we resist such love and grace? How can we not share that love and grace with others. Reflect on this as you listen/watch “Carried to the Table” by Leeland.

By Sheila Rennau