Articles by Daily

Revenge builds a lonely house. Space enough for one person. The lives of its tenants are reduced to one goal: make someone miserable. They do. Themselves.
No wonder God insists that we “keep a sharp eye out for weeds of bitter discontent. A thistle or two gone to seed can ruin a whole garden in no time” (Hebrews 12:15).

His healing includes a move out of the house of spite, a shift away from the cramped world of grudge and toward spacious ways of grace, away from hardness and toward forgiveness. He moves us forward by healing our past.

Can He really? This mess? This history of sexual abuse? This raw anger at the father who left my mother? This seething disgust I feel every time I think of the one who treated me like yesterday’s trash? Can God heal this ancient hurt in my heart?
Joseph asked these questions. You never outlive the memory of ten brothers giving you the heave-ho. They walked away and never came back. So he gave them a taste of their own medicine. When he saw them in the breadline, he snapped at them. He accused them of treachery and threw them in jail. “Take that, you rascals!”
Isn’t it good to know that Joseph was human? The guy was so good it hurt. He endured slavery, succeeded in a foreign land, mastered a new language, and resisted sexual seductions. He was the model prisoner and the perfect counselor to the king. Scratch him, and he bled holy blood. We expect him to see his brothers and declare, “Father, forgive them, for they knew not what they did” (see Luke 23:34). But he didn’t. He didn’t because forgiving jerks is the hardest trick in the bag. We will feed the poor and counsel the king. Why, we’ll memorize the book of Leviticus if God says to do so.
But…

Don’t let the sun go down while you are still angry (Ephesians 4:26)?
Let all bitterness, wrath, anger, clamor, and evil speaking be put away from you, with all malice (Ephesians 4:31)?
As Christ forgave you, so you also must do (Colossians 3:13)?
Really, God?

I have a friend who was six years old when her mother ran off with a salesman, leaving her to be raised by a good-hearted dad who knew nothing about dolls, dresses, or dates. The father and daughter stumbled through life and made the best of it. Recently the mom reappeared, like a brother out of Canaan, requested a coffee date with my friend, and said, “I’m sorry for abandoning you.” The mom wants to reenter her daughter’s world.
My friend’s first thought was, That’s it? I’m supposed to forgive you? Seems too easy. Doesn’t the mom need to experience what she gave? A few years wondering if she will see her daughter again. Some pain-filled nights. A bit of justice. How do we reconcile the pain of the daughter with God’s command to forgive?
Isn’t some vengeance in order? Of course it is. In fact, God cares about justice more than we do. Paul admonished, Never pay back evil for evil… never avenge yourselves. Leave that to God, for he has said that he will repay those who deserve it (Romans 12:17, Romans 12:19).
We fear the evildoer will slip into the night, unknown and unpunished. Escape to Fiji and sip mai tais on the beach. Not to worry.

Scripture says, “[God] will repay,” not He “might repay.”

God will get through this execute justice on behalf of truth and fairness. Case in point? Prepare yourself for the most surprising turnaround of the Joseph story.
After three days Joseph released all but one brother from jail. They returned to Canaan to report to Jacob, their father, a weak shadow of an old man. The brothers told him how Simeon was kept in Egypt as assurance they would return with Benjamin, the youngest brother. Jacob had nothing to say except, “You have bereaved me: Joseph is no more, Simeon is no more, and you want to take Benjamin. All these things are against me” (Genesis 42:36).

Such a louse. Jacob played favorites, refused to discipline, had multiple wives, and upon hearing of the imprisonment of his son, had a pity party. What a prima donna. No wonder the family was screwed up.

But as we read further, a light breaks through the clouds. Judah, who once wanted to get rid of Joseph, stepped forward. “Send [Benjamin] with me, and we will arise and go, that we may live and not die, both we and you and also our little ones. I myself will be surety for him; from my hand you shall require him. If I do not bring him back to you and set him before you, then let me bear the blame forever” (Genesis 43:8–9).

Is this the same Judah? The same man who said, “Let us sell him to the Ishmaelites” (Genesis 37:27)? The same brother who helped negotiate the slave trade? Well, yes… and no. Judah, as it turns out, has had his own descent into the pit.

After Joseph’s abduction Judah went on to have three sons. He arranged for the eldest to marry a girl named Tamar. But the son died. Following the proper protocol of his day, Judah arranged for his second son to marry Tamar. The son didn’t manage the situation well and died. Judah assumed Tamar was jinxed. Afraid that his third son would meet the same fate, Judah put the matter on hold, leaving Tamar with no husband.
Later Judah’s wife died. Tamar heard that Judah was coming to town. Apparently she hadn’t been able to get Judah to reply to her e-mails, so she got creative. She disguised herself as a prostitute and made him an offer. Judah took the bait. He exchanged his necklace and walking stick for sex, unaware that he was sleeping with his daughter-in-law. (Oh, how lust blinds a man!) She conceived.
Three months later she reappeared in Judah’s life as Tamar, pregnant Tamar. Judah went high and mighty on her and demanded she be burned. That’s when she produced Judah’s necklace and walking stick, and Judah realized the child was his. He was caught in his own sin, disgraced in front of his own family. Things had come full circle. Judah, who had deceived Jacob, was deceived. Judah, who had trapped Joseph, was trapped. Judah, who had helped humiliate Joseph, was humiliated. God gave Judah his comeuppance, and Judah came to his senses. “She has been more righteous than I,” he confessed (Genesis 38:26).
For years I wondered why Judah’s exploits were included in the Joseph narrative. They interrupt everything. We just get started in chapter 37 with the dreams and drama of Joseph when the narrator dedicates chapter 38 to the story of Judah, the hustler, and Tamar, the faux escort. Two dead husbands. One clever widow. An odd, poorly placed story. But now I see how it fits.

For anything good to happen to Jacob’s family, someone in the clan had to grow up. If not the father, one of the brothers had to mature to the point where he took responsibility for his actions.

God activated the change in Judah. He gave the guy a taste of his own medicine, and the medicine worked! Judah championed the family cause. He spoke sense into his father’s head. He was willing to take responsibility for Benjamin’s safety and bear the blame if he failed. Judah got his wake-up call, and Joseph didn’t have to lift a finger or swing a fist.

Vengeance is God’s. He will repay — whether ultimately on the Day of Judgment or intermediately in this life.

The point of the story?

God handles all Judahs. He can discipline your abusive boss, soften your angry parent. He can bring your ex to his knees or her senses. Forgiveness doesn’t diminish justice; it just entrusts it to God.

He guarantees the right retribution. We give too much or too little. But the God of justice has the precise prescription.
Unlike us, God never gives up on a person. Never. Long after we have moved on, God is still there, probing the conscience, stirring conviction, always orchestrating redemption. Fix your enemies? That’s God’s job.
Forgive your enemies? Ah, that’s where you and I come in. We forgive.
“Do not let the sun go down on your anger, and do not give the devil an opportunity” (Ephesians 4:26–27). The word translated opportunity is the Greek word topos, the same term from which we get the English noun topography. It means territory or ground. Interesting.

Anger gives ground to the devil. Bitterness invites him to occupy a space in your heart, to rent a room. Believe me, he will move in and stink up the place. Gossip, slander, temper — anytime you see these, Satan has claimed a bunk.

Evict him. Don’t even give him the time of day. In the name of Jesus tell him to pack his bags and hit the road. Begin the process of forgiveness. Keep no list of wrongs. Pray for your antagonists rather than plot against them. Hate the wrong without hating wrongdoers. Turn your attention away from what they did to you to what Jesus did for you. Outrageous as it may seem, Jesus died for them too. If He thinks they are worth forgiving, they are. Does that make forgiveness easy? No. Quick? Seldom. Painless? It wasn’t for Joseph.
The brothers returned to Egypt from Canaan, Benjamin in tow. Joseph invited them to a dinner. He asked about Jacob, spotted Benjamin, and all but came undone. “God be gracious to you, my son,” he blurted before he hurried out of the room to weep (Genesis 43:29).
He returned to eat and drink and make merry with the brothers. Joseph sat them according to birth order. He singled out Benjamin for special treatment. Every time the brothers got one helping, Benjamin got five. They noticed this. But said nothing.

Joseph loaded their sacks with food and hid his personal cup in the sack of Benjamin.

The brothers were barely down the road when Joseph’s steward stopped their caravan, searched their sacks, and found the cup. The brothers tore their clothes (the ancient equivalent of pulling out one’s hair) and soon found themselves back in front of Joseph, fearing for their lives.
Joseph couldn’t make up his mind! He welcomed them, wept over them, ate with them, and then played a trick on them. He was at war with himself. These brothers had peeled the scab off his oldest and deepest wound. And he would be hanged before he’d let them do it again. On the other hand, these were his brothers, and he would be hanged before he lost them again.

Forgiveness vacillates like this. It has fits and starts, good days and bad. Anger intermingled with love. Irregular mercy. We make progress only to make a wrong turn. Step forward and fall back. But this is okay. When it comes to forgiveness, all of us are beginners. No one owns a secret formula. As long as you are trying to forgive, you are forgiving. It’s when you no longer try that bitterness sets in.

Stay the course. You’ll spend less time in the spite house and more in the grace house. And as one who has walked the hallways of both, I can guarantee that you are going to love the space of grace.
Excerpted with permission from You’ll Get Through This by Max Lucado, copyright Max Lucado.
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Your Turn
Where are you on the journey of forgiveness? Have you made progress? Have you seemed to start back at ground zero and been frustrated? Do you have people in your life that, even after a relatively long period of time, you can’t seem to forgive. Come join the conversation on our blog! We want to hear from you! ~ Devotionals Daily […]

Once you’ve trusted God with control, remember to let Him use you for whatever purpose He may have in store for your life.
I once heard a friend say that she felt called to be a missionary and has had countless dreams that she will one day be martyred. Though she is 17 years old, she says with confidence that she will pursue that call no matter the price.
While not all calls are that extreme or gruesome, her faith to follow that call regardless really stood out to me. When we let God use us as He intends, the earthly cost is nothing compared to His eternal reward.
“For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us.” (Romans 8:18)
10. When You Enjoy life
Every day, each of us is given 24 hours, nothing more, nothing less. And if you’re anything like me, it seems that we never have enough time to get everything done, especially when struggling with anxiety, depression, stress, and of course, control.
Despite these timeless days, however, Jesus desires for us to enjoy life here on earth until His Kingdom comes. He doesn’t want you to be stressed out, trying to fixate every minute of your schedule so that X, Y, and Z will align with the stars.
John 10:10 cues us to understand that Jesus came so we could have life both here on earth and in Heaven. “The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life and have it abundantly.”
Though we work for the infinite days of endless ages in Heaven, remember that  in releasing control, God wants you to enjoy this life while you’re here, even if we are just a vapor, here one day and gone the next (James 4:14).
“There is nothing better for a person than that he should eat and drink and find enjoyment in his toil. This also, I saw, is from the hand of God.” (Ecclesiastes 2:24)
Photo Credit: © Getty Images/kieferpix

Amber Ginter is an aspiring 25-year-old writer that currently works as an English teacher in Chillicothe, Ohio, and has a passionate desire to impact the world for Jesus through her love for writing, aesthetics, health/fitness, and ministry. Hoping to become a full-time freelancer, Amber seeks to proclaim her love for Christ and the Gospel through her writing, aesthetic ministry team (Aisthitikós Joy Ministries), and volunteer roles. She is also the author of The Story I’ve Never Told, which is currently in the publishing process. Amber has freelanced for Daughter of Delight, Kallos, Anchored Passion, Crosswalk, No Small Life, Darling Magazine, Called Christian Writers, Southern Ohio Today News, The Rebelution, Ohio Christian University, and The Circleville Herald. Visit her website at amberginter.com. […]

One year ago today, a novel coronavirus in China was just becoming news in the United States. On February 3, 2020, the U.S. government declared a public-health emergency, but it wouldn’t be till three weeks later, on February 25, that the Centers for Disease Control would announce that COVID-19 was heading for pandemic status. On March 11, the World Health Organization made that formal declaration, and two days later, the pandemic became a national emergency in the United States and prompted a travel ban on non-U.S. citizens from Europe.
Now, what do we even begin to say about all that has transpired in these last eleven months? Such unexpected twists and turns just in our personal lives often prompt us to ask, and rightly so, “What is God up to?” — and all the more when the unexpected is so global. Few events in our lifetimes, if any, have been so global. And so, in the last year, perhaps as many of us as ever have paused to ponder, What is God up to in this global pandemic?
Whether we’ve used the word or not, we are asking about providence.
Providence in Our Uncertain Experience
When we speak of divine providence, the particular focus is not as much on the absolute power of God but on his purposes. Providence, according to John Piper, is God’s purposeful sovereignty: “In reference to God, the noun providence has come to mean ‘the act of purposefully providing for, or sustaining and governing, the world.’”

“We know with clarity and certainty, from God’s word, that there are some purposes he is always pursuing.”

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For Christians, the word of God and the providence of God go hand in hand. God has spoken into our world, through his prophets and apostles, and climactically in his Son, and captured his words for us in writing (the Scriptures). He tells us that he is indeed “sustaining and governing” the world — and that he does so with purpose. Providence emphasizes his provision, that he not only rules over and foresees all that happens, but that he sees to it that his purposes ripen in his perfect, world-confounding ways, and on his timetable.
God is always sovereign, and always purposeful in his sovereignty, not just in the unusual, but also in the everyday. Yet it is often certain glimpses of his providential hand, in particular surprising twists and turns in life, that prompt us to ask, What is God doing? What is he up to?
We remain uncertain about the particular meanings of such providential events. What is the meaning of this global pandemic, for instance? What is God saying to the world, and to our nation, and our church, and our family, and to me? In other words, how do we interpret the fingerprints of God in various providential acts today? What can we comprehend about providence, and what can we not?
What We Do Not Know
As we glimpse God, in his providence, “seeing to it” in our lives, and in our world, we should take care how much stock we put in our own seeing and interpreting beyond what we know from God’s word. As William Cowper wrote in “God Moves in a Mysterious Way,” “blind unbelief is sure to err” — and so is any pretense on our part to know for certain any meaning he has not revealed in his word. “God is his own interpreter,” said Cowper.
In love, we will want to be careful not to presume or put pressure on others, or make demands, based on what we think we see in God’s seeing to. As we move from observing his providence, to ponder the meaning, we apply it first and foremost to ourselves. “The faith that you have, keep between yourself and God” (Romans 14:22).
We also will want to take care that our eyes aren’t just seeing affirmations of our own desires and calling them “providence.” When we have some growing desire — say, about a next step in life, whether whom to date, what job to pursue, what city to move to, or a major purchase to make — it can be all too easy, in the many layers and complexities of reality, to seize upon a few aspects that align in our partial eyes and mind as providential confirmations of what we wanted all along. We will do well to ask ourselves, when we think we see providence most clearly, how convenient it is to our flesh. Are we willing to follow the leading of providence when it trends in the opposite direction of what seems easiest?
Which brings us to the question of what we might know of God’s pattern in the world and in our lives.
What We Do Know
In our uncertainty about various particular meanings in the providential circumstances of our lives, we do know with clarity and certainty, from God’s word, that there are some purposes he is always pursuing.
We know, for example, that God is always calling the world to repent, and giving opportunity to turn to him (Luke 13:1–5; Acts 17:30). He is always building his church, saving and sanctifying his people, intensifying their worship, shattering hopelessness, strengthening faith and courage, giving joy in affliction, and creating love in their hearts (Matthew 16:18). And he is always humbling the proud (1 Peter 5:6), including putting to shame the principalities and powers (Colossians 2:15).
These purposes, and many more, God tells us ahead of time, in his word, so that as he acts in history, as in a global pandemic, we can know many precious truths about what he is up to. We are not left in the dark. Yet beyond these, there is also a divine logic, or a rhyme and rhythm, of God’s purpose in the world, even amid the many unexpected twists and turns of providence.
The tune of providence, we might say, plays to the beat of Isaiah 55 and 1 Corinthians 1.
Who Understands God’s Ways?
In Isaiah 55, the prophet presses a larger truth into the service of a specific, surprisingly wonderful reality. Unlike humans, who might presume God would have only condemnation for the unrighteous, the prophet implores the wicked to turn from their thoughts and ways, while there is still time, because God is compassionate. “Let him return to the Lord . . . for he will abundantly pardon” (Isaiah 55:7). Then comes the larger truth that applies to providence as well:

For my thoughts are not your thoughts,neither are your ways my ways, declares the Lord.For as the heavens are higher than the earth,so are my ways higher than your waysand my thoughts than your thoughts. (Isaiah 55:8–9)

“As God closes the arcs and completes the purposes of his providence, he makes foolish the wisdom of the world.”

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As prone as we may be to presume that God is like us, he is not. His thoughts are not human. His ways, not human. His plans, not human. His ways and thoughts are not just different; they are higher — “as the heavens are higher than the earth.” And so must we keep that in mind, in our lowly human thoughts, as we observe God’s providence and try to speculate about meaning. Oh, there is meaning! Make no mistake: his sovereignty is indeed purposeful. Filled to overflowing with purposes. Bursting with countless purposes, far beyond our ability to appreciate. And one of his purposes is to show, again and again, just how wonderfully different he is from us.
Who Gets the Praise in Providence?
We could turn elsewhere in the Scriptures, but the end of 1 Corinthians 1 might be the most appropriate place to land. In fact, 1 Corinthians 1:28–29 might be the single most important statement in all the Bible for learning to read God’s providence and discern his meaning:

God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are, so that no human being might boast in the presence of God.

In seeking to discern God’s purposes in providence, do we ask, “How is God making it so that no human being — including myself — might boast in his presence?” Is he magnifying his wisdom and power and grace, in the person of his Son, for the weak eyes of his creatures to see him more for what he really is?
First Corinthians 1:20–31 casts a vision of a God who is turning the patterns of the world upside down. He gives space for human wisdom, power, and nobility to come into their own — that they might be overturned. As he closes the long arcs and completes the purposes of his providence, he makes foolish the wisdom of the world, and weak the world’s strong, and low the world’s noble. He makes the “things that are,” according to human standards, into nothing — and makes something from nothing — “so that no human being might boast in the presence of God.”
So, with every effort on our part to look for God’s meaning as we observe various aspects of his providence, we might ask ourselves, “Does this meaning make much of me, or does it make much of God? Will his meaning lead me to boast in self, or to boast in some other mere human, or will it cause me to boast in the Lord?”
We surely know very little about all that God has been up to in a year like the last one — or any year for that matter — but we do know this: those who have the best pulse on his providence marvel at the counterintuitive wisdom of his ways, learn to expect surprise, and boast in him alone. […]

Often we struggle to make difficult decisions because they’re difficult. Sometimes, however, we struggle to make difficult decisions because we’re sinful. Fear, especially the fear of man, can make us unnecessarily indecisive. We want to please people, and decisions often disappoint someone. So we hesitate, wrestle, waver, and stall — and sometimes sin.
Not all indecision, of course, is sinful. That’s what makes the spiritual dangers subtle. Sometimes we need time to decide for good reason. Wisdom rarely comes quickly or impulsively. Many decisions are unavoidably perplexing and time-consuming. Jesus himself grew in wisdom (Luke 2:52), which surely included his ability to make better, swifter judgments in difficult situations. But we all know that indecisiveness can be a sign that we fear man.
“The love of approval,” Lou Priolo writes, “tempts the people-pleaser to be indecisive” (Pleasing People, 76). We are indecisive, because we’re more concerned with what others think than what God thinks. Indecisive, because we often try to micromanage how others respond to our decisions, and because we’re petrified of making a mistake. Patient and prayerful deliberation is godly; fearful, man-centered indecision is not.
But does the Bible say anything about this indecisiveness? Do we ever see the fear of man manifest in sin? We do, and not just anywhere in Scripture, but at its darkest and most pivotal moment.
Height of Indecision
When the mob dragged Jesus before Pilate, the governor had the power and authority, humanly speaking, to let him go and prevent the thorns, the nails, the spear, the grave. The decision was his. And while he did (and only did) whatever God’s hand and plan had predestined to take place (Acts 4:27–28), he also utterly failed in his judgment. Jesus, it could be said, died at the hands of indecision — Pilate’s unwillingness to do what he knew he needed to do when it needed to be done.

“Patient and prayerful deliberation is godly; fearful, man-centered indecision is not.”

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Pilate is such a clear and horrifying example because he knew what needed to be done. “He knew,” Matthew 27:18 tells us, “that it was out of envy that they had delivered him up.” At least twice he declares, “I find no guilt in him” (John 18:38; 19:4). And yet Pilate delayed, wavered, hid, pointed fingers, and then eventually still killed him anyway.
The root of Pilate’s indecision is the root of most sinful indecision: “Pilate, wishing to satisfy the crowd . . . delivered him to be crucified” (Mark 15:15). The fear of man left Pilate bowing to the mob. The fear of man made Pilate waver and delay when he knew what was right. Then, the fear of man led Pilate to try to find someone else (Herod) to decide (Luke 23:6–12), and it blinded him to the counsel of his own wife (Matthew 27:19). And even after he made the decision, and had Jesus crucified, the fear of man convinced Pilate to still refuse responsibility (Matthew 27:24).
Because the fear of man controlled Pilate, the voices of the crowd prevailed (Luke 23:23). Fear made him vulnerable to manipulation, which first impeded him, then paralyzed him, and finally undid him.
Mastered by the Fear of Man
The four Gospel accounts of Pilate’s indecision each warn us about the temptation to fearful indecisiveness. In particular, they show how the fear of man opens us to the manipulation of others. If we, like Pilate, care most about what others think of us or how they might respond to us, then we will make decisions (or not) based mainly on our perceptions of others. It’s no wonder, then, that we feel so paralyzed — both the feelings of others and our perception of those feelings perpetually change. Pleasing all people at all times is, quite literally, impossible.
Looking specifically at the failures of Pilate, then, consider four ways the fear of man opened him to manipulation of various kinds — all still common to man today.
1. Manipulation by Deceit
The fear of man makes us more susceptible to lies. When the mob brought Jesus to Pilate, he asked, “What accusation do you bring against this man?” They answered, “If this man were not doing evil, we would not have delivered him over to you” (John 18:29–30). Notice their duplicity. They couldn’t even answer his simple question. They try to impose their will, instead, by telling Pilate to take their word for it. And he sees through them initially: “Take him yourselves and judge him by your own law” (John 18:31; see Matthew 27:18). The matter should have been settled here, but it wasn’t.
When they finally did come forth with accusations, they shouted, “We found this man misleading our nation” — false — “and forbidding us to give tribute to Caesar” — false (Mark 12:17) — “and saying that he himself is Christ, a king” (Luke 23:2) — deeply and eternally true. The first two charges were the ones that would have held the most weight with Pilate (he was most concerned for peace and order) — and they were blatant lies. But because he was more beholden to people than to the truth, he let their deception grow unchecked. Lies that should have been refuted and thrown out slowly took hold.
If we fear men more than God, lies sound all the more compelling, especially in the mouths of those we fear. Because we want to please them, we may overlook or explain away their errors just to keep them happy with us. Lies increasingly fall on deaf ears, however, if our hearts are planted more and more firmly in heaven — if we delight in the law of the Lord, and meditate on it day and night (Psalm 1:2).
2. Manipulation by Crowds
The fear of man can also leave us at the mercy of the masses. As we saw before, “So Pilate, wishing to satisfy the crowd, released for them Barabbas, and having scourged Jesus, he delivered him to be crucified” (Mark 15:15). If the crowd wanted otherwise, Pilate would have chosen otherwise. Despite all the power and authority that had been given to him, he did not do what he pleased, but he did what pleased the most people. How often might this be said of us?

“People-pleasers are especially vulnerable to the urgency of others.”

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And with the emergence of the internet and social media, how much greater is this temptation for us today? How much more likely are we to be controlled by what others like and hate, commend and criticize, follow and cancel? As Douglas Murray writes, we have been ordered to “engage in new battles, ever fiercer campaigns, and ever more niche demands. To find meaning by waging a constant war against anybody who seems to be on the wrong side of a question which may itself have been just reframed and the answer to which has only just been altered” (The Madness of Crowds, 2). The consequences, he says, “are deranged as well as dementing.”
As compelling as the crowd can feel, the masses will seem smaller and smaller if we remember who ultimately judges the world and how massive his army is. When Pilate threatens him, Jesus says, “My kingdom is not of this world. If my kingdom were of this world, my servants would have been fighting, that I might not be delivered over to the Jews. But my kingdom is not from the world” (John 18:36). Twelve legions of angels waited for the word (Matthew 26:53). That made the few hundred rioters in front of him, however hostile, seem as but a kindergarten class by comparison.
How might a mindset like his change how we respond to the crowds around us today, online or otherwise?
3. Manipulation by Tone
Pilate was not only manipulated by numbers, though, but also by tone. The fear of man often subjects us to the feelings of others, especially the intense feelings of others. The Jews declared that Jesus was a threat and they demanded that Pilate treat him as such.
Pilate asked them what they wanted him to do, and they shouted, “Let him be crucified!” To which he rightly asks, “Why? What evil has he done?” Notice how this kind of manipulation works: “But they shouted all the more, ‘Let him be crucified!’” (Matthew 27:23).
If you don’t get what you want, demand what you want. If you still don’t get it, demand even louder. People-pleasers are especially vulnerable to the urgency of others. Their passion can cloud our judgment. We cannot contend with shouting — with insisting, with angry outbursts, with relentless persistence, with ultimatums. We get worn down more easily than others, and are more tempted to just give in.
Aggressiveness and intimidation, however, lose their edge and force when it is held up to the light of spiritual reality and eternity. In the moment, the anger or urgency of others can feel immense, overwhelming, even ultimate. But if we can step back and assess their urgency through the wider lens of God’s purposes and plans, even into eternity, that perspective will likely expose misplaced or manipulative emotions. We’ll better see if their felt sense of urgency really corresponds with reality under God.
4. Manipulation by Approval
Lastly (at least from Pilate’s story), the fear of man seduces us into pursuing the false god of human approval.
As Pilate sought to release Jesus, the Jews cried out, “If you release this man, you are not Caesar’s friend. Everyone who makes himself a king opposes Caesar” (John 19:12). You can hear Satan’s whispering voice in their argument. Imagine all you will lose by doing right.
How does Pilate respond? “So when Pilate heard these words, he brought Jesus out and . . . delivered him over to them to be crucified” (John 19:13, 16). What would Caeser think? Pilate couldn’t stand the thought of his displeasure. And so he ended his horrible indecision and handed an innocent man over to be tortured and murdered — all so that a small, finite, fallen man would think well of him.
We all have those we are tempted to make into Caesers, those whose approval threatens to become everything to us. It may be a spouse or parent or even a child. It might be a boss or pastor. It might be a best friend. Who do you have the hardest time upsetting — even when love demands you do so? This relationship, whichever relationship it is, is likely the greatest, most reliable test for our fear of man.
When we feel and embrace the approval of God in Christ — if we really believe that God is fully and forever for us, not against us — the approval of others loses its luster. Being approved by God doesn’t make us indifferent to what others think. It does keep us from being controlled by what others think.
No Decision Is Ultimately Yours
At one point in their dialogue, Pilate begins to fear that Jesus might be more than he seems at first (John 19:7–8). “He ought to die,” the crowds had shouted, “because he has made himself the Son of God” (John 19:7). The Son of God? “When Pilate heard this statement, he was even more afraid” (John 19:8). What have I done? He rushes to see Jesus, demanding to know who he really is: “Where are you from?” (John 19:9). Silence.

“Being approved by God doesn’t make us indifferent to what others think. It does keep us from being controlled by what others think.”

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“You will not speak to me? Do you not know that I have authority to release you and authority to crucify you?” (John 19:10). That question (and how Jesus responds) may be more revealing than anything about ungodly indecision. How much of our own fear and hesitation in difficult decisions comes from an overestimation of our significance and our authority — from an inflated pride and self-reliance?
As the pride of Pilate pours out, Jesus breaks his silence, “You would have no authority over me at all unless it had been given you from above” (John 19:11). You are who you are, and have what you have, and make whatever decisions you do, only because God has said so. Nothing before you is ultimately up to you. You are never the most powerful or important person in the room.
That kind of perspective withers our fears of man and severs the roots of sinful indecision. If we remember who God is, what he has done for us in Christ, and what he requires of us in his word, we will build the wisdom and courage to do what we need to when we need to. […]

He has prepared for them a city. (Hebrews 11:16)

No pollution, no graffiti, no trash, no peeling paint or rotting garages, no dead grass or broken bottles, no harsh street talk, no in-your-face confrontations, no domestic strife or violence, no dangers in the night, no arson or lying or stealing or killing, no vandalism, and no ugliness.
The city of God will be perfect, because God will be in it. He will walk in it and talk in it and manifest himself in every part of it. All that is good and beautiful and holy and peaceful and true and happy will be there, because God will be there.
Perfect justice will be there and recompense a thousandfold for every pain suffered in obedience to Christ in this world. And it will never deteriorate. In fact, it will shine brighter and brighter as eternity stretches out into unending ages of increasing joy.
When you desire this city above everything else on the earth, then you honor God, who, according to Hebrews 11:10, is the designer and builder of the city. And when God is honored, he is pleased and not ashamed to be called your God. […]

As Valentine’s Day approaches, it is easy to feel inundated with images and expressions of love and affection. But instead of inspiring me, they usually leave me desiring something more. The pictures of love are often frivolous depictions, reducing the deep need to be loved that we all have to silly pictures of baby cupid with an arrow or dogs sporting bowties.
While those pictures are good for a quick smile, my soul longs for more meaningful expressions of love that last beyond February 14.
When looking for pictures of love that speak to the longings of my heart, I am drawn to the descriptions of God’s love for me found in Scripture. In the pages of the Bible, I not only find statements that affirm God’s love for me but there are many beautifully descriptive ways that God’s love is pictured. Together those images help me to see that I am fully known and deeply loved.
Regardless of our relationship status as we approach Valentine’s Day, these five images of God’s love can help us to understand all the dimensions of God’s love for us and to “see what great love the Father has lavished on us!” (1 John 3:1)
Safe Shelter
“How priceless is your unfailing love, O God! People take refuge in the shadow of your wings” (Psalm 36:7).
In Psalm 36, David describes God’s consistent, dependable love as a safe shelter. David pictures God as having strong wings that cover his children, reminding us that like young birds find safety under the protective wings of their mother, there is great security in God’s love for us. And in the shadow of his wings, we are welcome to take refuge. It is there that we find a place of secure rest that is protected from both the potential attacks of enemies but also just the blistering heat of life. Regardless of the storm or difficulty we may face, God’s love provides a safe shelter that allows for rest for our weary souls and peace in the midst of chaos.

Eternal Spring
“I have loved you with an everlasting love” (Jeremiah 31:3).
Part of the reason why modern images of love can leave us so unsatisfied is because we have likely experienced the pain of the fickle nature of love. Promises of forever love quickly forgotten. By contrast, God extends to us an everlasting love that has no end. Because God stands outside of time, it is a promise with no expiration date. God’s love simply cannot be contained in the limitations of our human experience. An image of this everlasting love in Jeremiah is the picture of God as a “spring of living water” (Jeremiah 2:13). While human love can be temporary, God’s love is a spring of water, continually bubbling up and spilling into our lives with the refreshing gift of God’s never-ending, eternal love.
Faithful Spouse
“For your Maker is your husband— the Lord Almighty is his name” (Isaiah 54:5).
Pictures of young brides and grooms are beautiful because they exemplify the joy and freshness of new love, but I find there is even greater beauty in the faithfulness of mature love. Older couples who have endured both the joys and struggles of life. Men and women who continue to choose love and fidelity. The image of God as a faithful spouse is a fairly common description in Scripture to emphasize the loyalty, deep affection, and sacrificial love God has for us. Often that picture comes with the amazing reminder that even “if we are faithless, he remains faithful” (2 Timothy 2:13). Somehow, even our human failures only emphasize the reassuring promise that God has been and will continue to be faithful to us, steadfastly extending love to his beloved.
Caring Mother
“As a mother comforts her child, so will I comfort you” (Isaiah 66:13).
There are few images that seem to convey a soothing presence as powerfully as the arms of a mother around a distressed child. In Isaiah, God chooses to picture himself as a mother caring for her child. Although others may choose to back away when life is hard, God offers a close, warm embrace that provides comfort when we are suffering. In those moments of pain and sorrow, the tender embrace comes with whispers of comfort that he will never leave or abandon us (Hebrews 13:5). Like a loving mother, God promises to carry those he loves (Isaiah 66:12). It is an act of love intended to bring peace to our hearts that even in the times we feel like we cannot stand, God’s love carries us close to him until our strength returns.

Overwhelming Flood
“And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God” (Ephesians 3:17-19).
While we may have experienced a parent or friend who withholds or only reluctantly expresses love, Paul writes of God’s love as an overwhelming flood. In his prayer at the end of the third chapter of Ephesians, Paul appears to be looking for words expansive enough to describe the love of God found in Jesus. Like flowing water that cannot be contained, God’s love is beyond dimensions. Paul goes even further in his description to write that God’s love for us surpasses knowledge, encouraging us that it is actually impossible for us to wrap our minds around the vastness of his love. When you need to be reminded of God’s love, may the image of his love flooding your soul provide a powerful visual of the reality of how much God desires to pour out his love on you.
I hope these five descriptions of God’s love can be comforting reminders to hold onto this Valentine’s Day or any day that you need to be assured that you are deeply and eternally loved.
Photo Credit: ©GettyImages/aapsky
Lisa M. Samra graduated with a Bachelor of Journalism from the University of Texas and earned a Master of Biblical Studies degree from Dallas Theological Seminary. Lisa now lives in Grand Rapids, Mich., with her husband and children. She leads several ministries at Calvary Church, with a focus on encouraging church leaders and training people for ministry. She is a regular contributor to Crosswalk.com, Our Daily Bread, and her work has also appeared in a variety of publications and online sites. Lisa looks forward to traveling again, as she often finds inspiration from experiencing the beauty of diverse cultures, places, and people. Lisa enjoys good coffee, running, and reading, just not all at the same time. […]