Who am I that God should be mindful of me? I am poor and needy of God every moment of every day. And God uses everything in my life for His good purposes; nothing is wasted. If these thoughts and questions sound significant to you, please check out this blog by Joni Eareckson Tada, who is “heaven-bent on honoring my Jesus, serving others, finishing the race, and completing the task of testifying to gospel grace.”
Looking at the bottom of this blog you’ll see my name is Mick. I was actually Christened Michael Geoffrey, but ever since I can remember, I’ve always been called Mick. Another name I’m called that has, for me, more emotional ties, is Mickey. It has been used, almost exclusively, by my family, especially my sisters and my mum.
Though my name is Michael I've never been called Mike, and it’s a name I just don’t associate with myself. I’ve found that many Americans will immediately call me Mike if I introduce myself as Michael, something that never happened to me in England. So my name is Michael, but you can call me Mick.
For most people names are very important. Most parents take a long time and many heated moments trying to choose a name for their child, even long before the birth. For many cultures the naming of a child is often determined by tradition or a family name that is passed down from generation to generation.
In the bible, in the Gospel of Luke, we are told of two who were called by name, even before they were conceived. When the angel of the Lord appeared to Zechariah he was told, “Your wife Elizabeth will bear a son and you shall call his name John.” Around the same time the angel Gabriel was sent to Mary and told her, “...you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus.” How beautiful is that. The little child developing in the womb is called by name. Is known by God.
And what a name. The name of Jesus. The name above all names, at which every knee will bow. For many of us, a name that was often no more than a swear word, comes to mean everything to us. Bringing life from death. In the same way he called Lazarus out of the tomb, so he called us from death to life, and, I have no doubt, he called us by name.
—Mick Sanderson
Paul himself admitted to this deficiency (Romans 8:26). This is a sobering truth we must grapple with if we are going to mature in our understanding of prayer.
I was encouraged to meditate and study this passage after listening to Andrew Murray’s seventh chapter of his book The Spiritual Life. In this chapter Murray emphasizes the fact that it takes humility to recognize that while we pray for many things, we don’t know how to pray what we need most.
This deficiency in the area of prayer is more than human incompetence on our part. How so? The word we translate “weakness” carries also the idea of sickness or illness. Jesus used this word in John 11:4 when speaking of the sickness that had momentarily taken the life of his friend Lazarus. There is a deep condition that renders us sick and weak when it comes to knowing what to pray as we must.
Do you approach prayer convinced that what you are praying is always what you should pray for? Or how you should pray for that? Furthermore, do you approach prayer convinced that you are praying the good you ought to pray for your life or the life of others?
Oh that Romans 8:26 will be the Word that infuses repentance and humility in our souls!
It is this kind of humility that will open our hearts to the real help the Holy Spirit wants to offer to us when we pray.
— Diego Cuartas
It’s kind of our thing.
Both of us in our respective lounge chairs, kicked back, watching one of our shows in our basement family room. I am in my nightgown, snuggled up in my favorite, soft blanket. Our snack trays are littered with my jug of ice water and a wide assortment of goodies, healthy and otherwise.
And it’s late afternoon, early evening. Kenny’s finished work for the day and we are chilling, deciding when and if we want to scrounge up some dinner. Since my total knee replacements this summer, there have been some mighty slim pickings around here.
Then we hear footsteps in the kitchen and our basement door opens. We watch as unfamiliar boots descend into our private sanctuary. “Um, hi,” the stranger mumbles, embarrassed. “I’m your new bug guy.”
Then we remember the sign.
Plastered on our back door is a note card that reads, “Please come right in…thanks!” I had taped it up after my second surgery so I wouldn’t have to get up and answer the door for the nurse, physical therapist, and anybody else dropping by.
I just didn’t mean the exterminator.
Funny. We have had uninvited guests before. Bats, mice, flying squirrels, snakes…ah, the joys of living in the woods with all the critters. We even had a burglar kick in our deck door and rob us blind a few years back. How violated and vulnerable we felt! There is something deeply disturbing and unsettling when the safety, comfort, and privacy of your home is suddenly compromised, shattered.
Even by a bug guy just doing his job.
So I have been thinking about this a lot. I don’t want unexpected or uninvited visitors in my home.
Nor my heart.
But I’m pretty sure there are any number of things just lurking nearby, waiting for the door to open up a tiny crack.
In Genesis, I am reminded of these verses.
“The Lord said to Cain, ‘Why are you angry and why has your face fallen. If you do well, will you not be accepted? And if you do not do well, sin is crouching at the door. Its desire is contrary to you, but you must rule over it.’” (Genesis 4:6-7)
The context of the bigger story here is that God has accepted Abel’s sacrifice but rejected his twin brother Cain’s sacrifice. Cain is furious so God mercifully addresses him, offering him a chance to do things “well.” He presents Cain with the choice to surrender his anger, repent of his wrong attitude, and get his heart right with God. Or he could let sin get the better of him. Cain refuses to listen to God’s gracious words of caution and allows the wickedness of anger crouching at his door to pounce on him, become his master, and rule over him. In a jealous rage, Cain kills his brother. What power sin has!
I think it would be wise for us to take notice.
I am of the scary opinion that sin is always crouching at my door, ready to spring like a hungry killer, an uninvited guest, ready to move in and take over. I am aware of the obvious sins; I keep the door barred and locked tightly against these dark enemies that lure and coax me to lie, steal, slay, cheat, betray, hate, envy, abandon, mistreat, control, and destroy. I fight and I flee with the Spirit’s necessary and inexhaustible strength and insight. When I struggle, I repent of my failure to obey and my wrong attitude. I turn my heart back to my forgiving Father.
But I am afraid there are less recognizable sins that are crouching outside, still inherently sinister and ugly, that I readily throw open the door to without a second glance, without a thought. The welcome sign is on my door.
For me, those sins include sloth, gluttony, poor time management, being satisfied with lesser things, setting up false saviors, selfish desires for ease, pleasure, and comfort, isolationism, ignoring the Spirit’s prompting…oh, my! The list goes on. Do you also have a list of pet sins that you coddle, appease, defend, and invite in?
These sins are just as insidious and dangerous. Why don’t I recognize mine for what they are? Oh, how easily I can get tripped up by the “little” sins that seem so harmless! Oh, dear Father! Help me, help us, to see sin for what it is…ALL sin. Protect us from the evil crouching at our doors! Keep our eyes open to Your Spirit’s leading and our ears tuned to His voice. Keep us in your Word.
“I have stored up your word in my heart, that I might not sin against you. (Psalm 119:11 ESV)
Since I have been thinking on all these things, I have been haunted by a phrase from an old Steve Green song that has been going around and around in my head. It’s a great song called “Higher Ground.” I will close with a few of the lyrics, but, if you get a chance, it is worth a listen on YouTube.
In the world, but not of it
Caught in the storm, we’ve got to rise above it
Waves of ungodliness eroding the shore
It’s a treacherous sea, too wild to ignore
Build your house above the ocean
Build your house on higher ground
Build above the world’s commotion
And its mesmerizing sound
You’re taking your life into your hands
By building your castles in the sand
So build up high above the tide
Build on higher ground
God is calling us to remain unstained
In the rising flood of sin
And it’s easier to keep it out
If we don’t invite it in.
Take that welcome sign off your door!
More than the bug guy is waiting outside.
—Eileen Hill
