I pursued my enemies and overtook them; I did not turn back till they were destroyed. I crushed them so that they could not rise; they fell beneath my feet. You armed me with strength for battle; you humbled my adversaries before me. You made my enemies turn their backs in flight, and I destroyed my foes. They cried for help, but there was no-one to save them—to the Lord, but he did not answer. I beat them as fine as windblown dust; I trampled them like mud in the streets. You have delivered me from the attacks of the people; you have made me the head of nations. People I did not know now serve me, foreigners cower before me; as soon as they hear of me, they obey me. They all lose heart; they come trembling from their strongholds. (Psalm 18:37–45, NIV)
When I first decided to write Bible reading notes for Psalm 18, I thought what a wonderful Psalm in which to delve. But I didn’t want to write on the above verses. They are just so graphic: destroying of foes; beating as dust; trampling in the mud. Not exactly refreshing morning reading.
I looked to the commentaries for some help, but they seemed to skip over this section. But in Gleason L. Archer’s Encyclopedia of Bible Difficulties I gained some insight. He makes a compelling argument for the right to self-defense by law-abiding citizens. As he says, “How could God be called ‘good’ if He forbade His people to protect their wives from ravishment and strangulation … or to resist invaders who have come to pick up their children and dash out their brains against the wall?” (p. 219) More graphic images, I know. But we live in a fallen world that often doesn’t follow God’s rule, so we need to face up to these painful realities.
You may completely disagree with Archer’s theory, or you may embrace it as your own. Whatever position we hold, we can affirm that the Lord yearns for shalom – his holistic peace – in all its fullness, whether in our nations, communities, or families.
Prayer: Lord, we pray for the war-torn areas of the world and the many victims of fighting: the women who are raped; the men who are killed; the children who are maimed and orphaned. Bring peace, we pray.
A couple of months ago I had the privilege of interviewing Joni Eareckson Tada in connection with her new book, Joni & Ken: An Untold Love Story (Zondervan). I’ve long admired her, and got to meet her and her husband one year when I was working for her publisher. She exudes God’s grace and love in person and online. And in her new book, detailing the story of her and her husband’s thirty-year marriage, she and Ken share so honestly about their challenges, struggles, and joys.
For when Ken Tada made his wedding vows, he knew he would especially have to live up to the phrase “in sickness and in health.” After all, he was marrying a quadriplegic. He also knew his life would hold particular challenges and joys, for he was marrying the internationally known author and speaker, Joni Eareckson. But he didn’t reckon on the debilitating sameness of her daily routines, such as her toileting challenges or the need to reposition her several times each night.
Their book journeys through their 30 years of marriage, warts and all. It chronicles the early days of romance and international travel along with the crushing middle years of depression, excruciating chronic pain, and a growing distance between them. The severe mercy of breast cancer a couple of years ago was the agent to bring them back to a full dependence on Jesus – and to union with each other.
Not many biographies of people in the public eye are so searching and honest. I can’t recommend this book highly enough, not only for people who hope for a closer marriage, but for anyone wanting to witness how God can change lives – even those who have been following him for years.
Run, do not walk, to your local Christian bookshop to get a copy of this book; I loved it! It’s real, gritty and honest – and dripping with God’s hope and redeeming love.
In Joni’s Words
Here is Joni sharing her love of books, an interview that appeared in the May 2013 issue of Woman Alive (the book club that I run); reprinted with permission.
There are lots of surprises in Joni & Ken, not the least of which is Ken’s part of the story. How does a strong, handsome, virile man keep passion alive when he’s married for three decades to a quadriplegic woman? For years, Ken has gotten up every night to “re-position” me in bed (I can only lay in one position for four hours). So how does he manage that with such a good attitude? Or does he have a good attitude?! This book reveals all.
The Liberty of Obedience by Elisabeth Elliot remains a favorite book of mine. I first read it when I was released from the hospital after the diving accident in which I broke my neck. Suddenly I was expected to trust God in the midst of utterly overwhelming circumstances. This little book gave insight and wisdom as to how I could embrace the Lord in the midst of total quadriplegia. If Elisabeth Elliot could do it amidst the Acua Indians after they killed her husband… then I could, by God’s grace, do the same.
The saints of old, such as Amy Carmichael and George Muller, inspire me. One of the dangers of the Christian life is that we too often imagine it – we imagine we’re walking closely to the Lord or that we’re being obedient or kind or loving. But trials – such as the kind faced by Amy Carmichael and George Muller – put our love for God and for each other to the test. What we believe about the Christian faith must be lived out in reality and tough trials are the best way of forcing our faith to be real.
I resonate with Paul and Silas [from the Bible], deep in a dark jail cell at midnight singing praises to God… loudly! These two inspire me to always ask God every morning for “a hymn in my heart” so that I might follow their example. And throughout the day, it’s the melody I keep humming, like “praying without ceasing.”
Runaway Home is one of the children’s books that I love. It’s a marvelous series about a family who packed up all their belongings in a trailer and set out to find adventure across the United States. Since I have always loved geography and maps, even as a child, I thrilled at all their new discoveries on every page. The book series may be out of print, but, to me, it’s a classic.
You asked if I could only save one book from your burning house, which would it be and why? After the Bible, my family’s photo album – with my parents long gone to heaven, these old photos are precious memories I would never want to lose!
Joni Eareckson Tada, founder and CEO of Joni and Friends, is an international advocate for people with disabilities. She’s the author of over 50 books, including her bestsellers Joni, When God Weeps and A Step Further. She and her husband Ken Tada have been married for 30 years.
So tell me, have you read any of Joni’s books, or watched the film of her life? Has her ministry made an impact on you?
It is God who arms me with strength and keeps my way secure. He makes my feet like the feet of a deer; he causes me to stand on the heights. He trains my hands for battle; my arms can bend a bow of bronze. You make your saving help my shield, and your right hand sustains me; your help has made me great. You provide a broad path for my feet, so that my ankles do not give way. (Psalm 18:32–36, NIV)
Have you ever twisted your ankle? I did once when on a wilderness adventure in northern Minnesota as we were trekking across the Grand Portage with canoes and packs on our backs. The ground was wet and for some dumb reason we made the epic journey (some 9 miles) at night. After many hours I slipped and fell. Although the backpacks provided a cushion, my ankle contorted unnaturally. I felt every painful step.
As Christians we may trip and fall, but as we follow God he will make our way secure. So says David, who turns his song of thanksgiving into a personal litany of the ways God has helped him. With God he has the grace and surety of a deer in a high place, which I would have appreciated on that slippery trail. Again Yahweh is his saving help, shield, and sustenance who provides a spacious path for his feet.
One of the commentators likens these verses to a “boot camp for warriors” similar to the spiritual armor that Paul outlines to the Ephesians (such as the belt of truth, breastplate of righteousness and shield of faith). We may not have to rout our enemies, but we do battle against the “spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms” (Ephesians 6:12).
May I extend a rallying call that we to take up our shield against the fiery darts of the enemy, whether they be words of discouragement or an insipid disbelief in the power of the almighty God. If we call on the Lord, he will train our arms as we hold the sword of the Spirit, the word of God, while praying for all the saints.
Prayer: Lord, you are my shield, defender, strength, and security. Your right hand sustains me and you provide a broad path for my feet. Train me to serve and love you.
God on Mute: Engaging the Silence of Unanswered Prayer
Pete Greig (Survivor/Kingsway, ISBN 9781842913178)
Some years ago, my faith was seriously rocked when I thought God was telling me to move from one city to another, and then everything fell through with the move. I didn’t know what to believe. Was God out there? Did he care? Was he speaking to me? What was I hearing?
I would have loved to have been able to read God on Mute back then. Through God’s grace I was able to mature in my faith, but it was a long and lonely road to travel, filled with hurt, questions, doubts. Perhaps Pete’s book will shorten the path of others. I hope so; because of God’s seeming silence, many Christians lose their faith or allow it to be it watered down to an insipid state.
Pete Greig is a co-founder of the 24-7 Prayer movement, which has touched people around the world. He’s written about this prayer movement in another book, but this one is a profoundly personal yet deeply biblical exploration of unanswered prayer.
Just weeks after the birth of their second son, Pete’s wife Samie suffered a horrible seizure. After rushing her to the hospital, they learned that she had a tumor in her head the size of an orange. As Pete says, “Why, I wondered darkly, hadn’t my prayers made any notable difference when Samie and I needed God’s help more than ever before?” And, “Here I am, one of the leaders within a prayer movement … and (dare I admit it?) my deepest prayers are impotent…” (p. 38-39)
Pete searched for answers to the profound question of unanswered prayer, and determined that the book needed to be written that would fit between his wife’s “Reader’s Digest and a cappuccino.” God on Mute is the result of their years of prayers, searching, and reflection.
It’s been a few years since I read this book, and I’d love to read it again, slowly. First time round I was propelled by the story of Pete’s wife, Samie, as she discovered the brain tumor and her subsequent epilepsy. I was gripped by this human drama, especially as my brother has struggled with epilepsy nearly his whole life.
A book I will give to others and reread. It’s a treasure trove of wisdom which also poses the questions some are too afraid to raise.
This book has been out a few years; have you read it? What stories do you have of unanswered prayer?
“Heaven will be a grand reunion with people who might have become dear friends, had circumstances/geography/time not limited us.”
So said I to a woman I had only ever met once by email when interviewing her for the Woman Alive Book Club that I run. I had read her spiritual memoir and resonated deeply with her story, and when we exchanged emails I felt that instant knowing of someone who just gets you. Someone with whom you share similar loves and interests (God, books, culture…). Lest you fear I’m some strange stalker, she felt the connection too.
Have you had that experience of an instant soul friendship? Sometimes I’ve thought I should feel this almost inexplicable link with other people who are in similar life circumstances – whether we both work with words or are married to a clergyman or live as an ex-pat. But that’s not always the case. There’s that extra “something” with some other friendships that seems to bind our hearts and minds at a deeper level.
I’m finding it hard to write about these soul connections, because I don’t want to devalue the friendships I have with people who are different from me, who challenge me in ways that someone cut out of more similar cloth might not. Friendship is a gift in whatever its form or depth. Nor do we have time for endless numbers of friends either; we live within boundaries and limitations.
Which takes me back to my opening line about heaven. In heaven I reckon we’ll all have soul connections with each other. We won’t be limited by space or geography or time. We’ll know and be fully known. We’ll look into the eyes of our sisters and brothers and see all that is good and true and beautiful about them. How they are made in the image of God and how they reflect that beauty. And as we feast together – never over-indulging nor worrying about excess calories – we’ll rejoice in unity and communion and that mysterious one-with-God-and-each-otherness.
What about you? Have you had this experience of instantly knowing, at some sort of deep level, someone else?
As for God, his way is perfect: The Lord’s word is flawless; he shields all who take refuge in him. For who is God besides the Lord? And who is the Rock except our God? (Psalm 18:30–31, NIV)
I know I should have a picture of rocks from the Holy Land, but the rocks on the West Coast of Ireland speak to me deeply.
Today David again calls God the rock who provides him refuge. It may seem repetitious, but as Charles Spurgeon said in The Treasury of David, “Second thoughts upon God’s mercy should be and often are the best.”
As Moses was preparing the Israelites to go into the Promised Land, he sang a song about the Lord and uses very similar words to David’s: “He is the Rock, his works are perfect…” (Deuteronomy 32:4). Clearly God as the rock, sure foundation, and provider of refuge was an important image to our heroes in the faith.
In the desert lands of the Bible, rocks were a welcome sight as they would provide shade from the scorching heat of the sun. Underneath their cover the desert creatures and plants would flourish, and a weary traveler would find shelter, rest, and perhaps even a spring of water. Rocks were also the foundation to the fortresses that would provide safety from attacking troops.
The image of the rock is important in the New Testament too. Jesus says that those who put his teachings into practice are like “a wise man who built his house on the rock” (Matthew 7:24). Though the elements raged against it, it didn’t fall. And Jesus renamed Simon “Peter,” the Greek word for rock, saying, “and on this rock I will build my church” (Matthew 16:18).
God wants to be the foundation of our lives. He is filled with the strength that does not waver and a solidity that will not crack. As we look to him for help, he will provide shelter and refreshment. The need might be financial – negative equity on a mortgage or out-of-control fuel prices. The need might be emotional – for someone to love and be loved by. Or it might be physical – for healing and restoration. He will provide answers; perhaps not as we would, but according to his mercy and wisdom. For his way is perfect and his word is flawless.
Prayer: Lord God, you are the rock of our lives, a mighty fortress who never fails. We look to you for shelter, rest, and refreshment.
Sensible Shoes: A Story about the Spiritual Journey
bySharon Garlough Brown (IVP, 978-0830843053)
Some books come with a buzz. I don’t mean that reading them will cause an altered reality, but that people become so gripped and changed by these books that they want to share them with others – resulting in a buzz. Sensible Shoes is such a novel. I first heard of it on social networks, for Kathy Lee Gifford recommended it on one of the influential US talk shows. Intrigued that a book about the spiritual journey would receive such a big mention, I got myself a copy. From the promotional material I thought it was a how-to book about the spiritual disciplines, so I was pleasantly surprised when I found it was a novel.
The story charts the journey of four unlikely friends who bond through a spiritual formation course. Each woman is running from wounds of the past. Through their friendship and their engagement with spiritual practices such as lectio divina, praying with the labyrinth and imaginative prayer (Ignatian practices), they find peace. They also move into the adventures of a life partnering with God.
I could relate to each of the women’s struggles as those I’ve addressed in my own journey of faith. Such as Hannah, who tries to prove her worth to God by serving others unswervingly, to the point of exhaustion and ignoring her own needs. Or Mara, who, feeling rejected, turns to food for comfort. Or Meg, who battles a critical voice in her head. Or Charissa, who seeks perfection and loves a controlled environment.
One point that the author makes is that God often uses the irritants in our lives to wake us up to the issues we should face. As one of the spiritual directors says: “Remember, Charissa – the things that annoy, irritate, and disappoint us have just as much power to reveal the truth about ourselves as anything else. Learn to linger with what provokes you. You may just find the Spirit of God moving there” (p. 80). The prayer of examen, in which we look back at our day in the presence of God, can help us as we bring to mind those things or people that made our blood pressure rise. We can ask God to show us why we lost our temper – was it something physical like we were tired or hungry? Or something deeper, such as one of the deadly sins – pride, envy, anger and so on. When we’re transparent before God, he can bring his healing touch, filling the places that are yearning for love and affirmation. And he can lead us to repent, or spur us on to love our neighbor.
And Sensible Shoes? Although they could have called it something with a bit more zing, it’s a book I’ll keep recommending.
When I first moved to the UK, I felt so self-consciously American. Hyper aware of my accent, which immediately labeled me as foreign. Fifteen years later, I usually forget my “other” status, but sometimes – often when I’m out of London – someone will look at me with curiosity and ask me where I’m from.
“North London,” I’ll say somewhat cheekily, fully knowing that’s not what they mean. “But from the States originally.”
And again I’ll be jolted into an awareness of otherness. That sense of being a foreigner in a strange land. The longing for home, which God embedded into each of us, whether we live in an adopted country or not.
A few months ago I wrote a poem expressing some of these feelings of heavenly citizenship, and to Whom we ultimately belong.
You, Lord, keep my lamp burning; my God turns my darkness into light. With your help I can advance against a troop; with my God I can scale a wall. (Psalm 18:28–29, NIV)
As David recounts the works of God, he acknowledges that everything comes from the Lord – oil for his lamp, military help, strength to climb a wall. His song rises out of the many years of trusting God and seeing him deliver, whether it was when David defeated Goliath with God’s help, five stones and a sling, or when the Lord gave him a hiding place from Saul.
These testing times provided David with a choice; he could trust God to take him through the difficulties or blame him because things weren’t going to plan. As we’ve seen over the past Mondays, David wasn’t perfect, but he learned from his mistakes and sought after God. And after a lifetime of seeing God make good on his promises, he wants to attribute all the glory and honor to him.
Our Western world is so different from that of David’s. We have the conveniences of modern life such as travel, communication, and technology. With all of these things making our lives easier (but more complicated), we can be tempted to think that we control our lives. But if our hearts are tender towards God, we see that he is the source of all we have and do. Sometimes, however, we only turn to God as a last resort because of disaster, calamity, or sickness.
How can we follow David’s lead in attributing all the glory to the Lord? Perhaps it is in offering to God that misunderstanding with a friend. To seek his wisdom when our children go off the rails. To ask him to help us see that annoying person as he sees them. To say thank you when we complete a project, have a joyous time with a loved one, or make it to our destination safely.
God’s help is as present today as it was for David. As we trust in him moment by moment, we too will be able to say that he has provided for our needs and turned our darkness into light.
Prayer: “Yours, Lord, is the greatness and the power and the glory and the majesty and the splendor, for everything in heaven and earth is yours” (1 Chronicles 29:11).
Nicholas’s priesting, which happens a year after being ordained a deacon (who knew it was so complicated?). I know, the hat; what was I thinking? Nice photobomb too.
Today my husband has been ordained a minister in the Church of England for 15 years. I remember the occasion so clearly as I sat in the cavernous Guildford Cathedral with his family and witnessed him making his promises to love, hono(u)r, and serve God and God’s people. As we drove back to Cambridge, I was keenly aware of him wearing his dog collar for the first time when we stopped at a rest stop – I felt like he was broadcasting, “Hey, I’m one of those crazy Christians!”
While Nicholas went on the pre-ordination retreat, I had stayed with some of his friends in Guildford and prepared for the post-ordination meal. This was my first experience of putting on a party for his friends and the church. I remember making salads; this lovely broccoli one was probably quite foreign to Brits then (at that time salads hadn’t reached the level of acceptance as they have now on these shores). A woman from his church, surveying the heaping buffet table, said what a good vicar’s wife I would make. Oh, how I cringed at that. I had hosted the party as a gift of love for my new husband, not out of duty or expectation. Couldn’t she see that?
I’ve learned many a thing through the years of sleeping with the vicar (or curate). Like gently elbow him if he’s snoring and he’ll turn over. Here are two things I offer from my experience as a VW (vicar’s wife) to other clergy spouses. If you’re part of a church, perhaps these points will help you see the minister and spouse (if applicable) in a new light.
Our first home in Surrey.
Be yourself
One of the first people I ever met in Britain was a lovely American who was married to a Brit who was also a vicar. She was originally from Wisconsin (I come from the next-door state, Minnesota). Ah the wealth of advice and love she showered me with. We shared great laughter too.
She told me how on her husband’s induction to his first church as vicar, she wore a T-shirt under her coat emblazoned with the slogan, “I don’t bake cakes!” She had a strong sense of self and was cheerfully and playfully taking on any hidden assumptions from her husband’s new flock.
Now I do bake cakes, and in particular I’m happy to whip up a batch of my famous brownies for church events. In typical convenience-oriented American style, I serve up the amazing Ghirardelli brownies. Yes, from a mix. One of my friends at church was rather crushed to realize I hadn’t made them from scratch!
But there are lots of ministries at the church I don’t feel called to. I believe that if I step into those roles out of sheer duty, I’ll deprive someone else of fulfilling their calling to serve (and I’ll probably have a stonking attitude). Of course there’s a balance here, and we need to pitch in at times when we don’t feel called when the need is great. And sometimes God calls us into areas we might previously have eschewed. For me, children’s ministry is one of those. I find the prospect daunting and deenergizing, as much as I love my kids. But our church needed leaders so I agreed and now find the times I lead the pre-teen group to be filled with joy and good discussion and fulfillment. I’m a better discipler than teacher-of-the-young, which illustrates my heading for this section, “Be yourself.”
Embrace your instant community
When a publishing colleague heard I was marrying Nicholas, he said from his previous experience as a pastor, “You’ll always have community.” Now that that can be a good thing but sometimes a harmful thing too. Yet his comment brought light and clarity to me as I approached the quick succession of churches that Nicholas had roles with in the first half-dozen years of his ordained life (two curacies and then his first vicarship, where we remain nine years later). My friend’s advice echoed the words from the book of Ruth that reverberated through my mind as we drove to Surrey for Nicholas’s first curacy: “Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay. Your people will be my people and your God my God” (Ruth 1:16, NIV). These were now my people – warts and all. And I was their people too – warts and all.
In my years as a VW I’ve witnessed episodes of the downside of community: backbiting, gossip, slander… It hasn’t been pretty at times and it can be excruciating to watch from the sidelines, feeling that all I can do is pray (which yes, I know is actually the biggest thing). Or having to gently disappoint people if they have expectations of me (which doesn’t happen often in our multicultural church in London). In Surrey during Nicholas’s first curacy I was working at HarperCollins. I was puzzled when one of the older ladies said to me during the refreshments after church, “I’m so looking forward to seeing you on Thursday!”
“I’m sorry; what do you mean?” I asked, trying to cover up my confusion.
“Nicholas is coming to our over-50s group.”
“Oh, I didn’t know,” I replied. “I work in London during the week so I’m not able to come.”
This photo of a church in the Costwolds illustrates how the church community can be at times. Sometimes with dark clouds; sometimes with fluffy ones; sometimes both at the same time.
Although there can be negatives, community has its upside too, such as my friend’s comment about the instant nature of the potential for relationships in a church. In each of the three churches where my husband has served, I’ve asked God to give me some friends. In Surrey my closest friends were of non-English nationality (not that I sought this out): Scottish, South African, and Irish. In Harrow, Nicholas and I were blessed to have friendships blossom with the two clergy couples and another couple in the church who are now mission partners in Moldova. Here in north London I enjoy a wealth of friends, especially with my female peers. These are the true riches that God bestows on his people.
Unsolicited advice
If you’re part of a church, here’s a bit of advice of how to love your clergy/clergy family (as applies).
Love them as individuals. They will fail at times and soar at others. Love makes it all better and easier.
Hold your criticism of the preacher’s sermon until during the week, and not right after the service when comments can feel more bruising.
If your minister is married, don’t assume the spouse knows everything going on in the church. If the minister is doing the job in the right way, the spouse won’t know the confidences.
Celebrate your church leader when appropriate. They need praise too.
Pray for them. As Alfred, Lord Tennyson, said, “More things are wrought by prayer than the world dreams of.”
And how about you? What advice would you give if you’re part of a clergy setup? If not, what have you observed if you’re part of a church?
