Christians Need Religion

What is something you do -- always? I know a man who walks a couple miles, goes home, eats two cookies, and bikes several miles after that. It's his routine and, barring serious illness or terrible weather, he follows it. He is religious about his health. 

I see it all the time. I've done it. You're halfway through the parking lot and you remember your mask. Back to the car to get it. We're how many months into this thing, and we still forget to wear our mask? How is it not a regular part of our routine by now? 

I need medication daily. Without it, I'm pushing up daisies. It is recommended I take it each morning, the problem is, my "morning" changes. Sometimes morning is 5 or 6 AM; sometimes morning is 9:30 at night. It doesn't change the fact I need to take this medication. It does, however, alter the likelihood I will take it. I wake up; I've barely slept 'cause my bedtime has changed -- again; I wander bleary-eyed to the bathroom -- "Just get me through this day" -- and I never give my meds a thought. Or, I'm late; I've tried to get every minute of sleep I possibly could; brush teeth, get dressed, get coffee, I'm out the door -- "Oh, man, my meds! Nothing I can do about it now." And on I go. I need this stuff to live! What am I doing?! 

I am a Christian. Christianity is faith; Christianity is a walk of life; Christianity is not a religion. But, Christianity needs religion. When I was a little girl, we went to church every Sunday. One of the biggest fights my parents had in front of us kids was when we were on vacation. Mom wanted to see the sights, but it was Sunday morning, and Dad had already inquired at the hotel's front desk about nearby churches. We were going to church. That is religion. Church and the knowledge of God became such a part of my identity, when I grew older and I stopped going to church, I actually experienced the emptiness of holidays like Easter and Christmas without that part of me. I distinctly remember driving through a neighborhood on a beautiful sunny day just before Easter. Lawns were decorated with brightly colored eggs and enormous white bunnies. I thought to myself, "Is this what non-Christians do? Is this really what they celebrate?" In reality, I wasn't even observing that, but I wanted something real to celebrate. The next Sunday I had my small son in church. And though it was another ten or so years before I authentically, relentlessly began seeking after the Lord, religion kept me within the safety and ministry of God's Word. I was learning, and God's Holy Spirit was speaking to my heart.

Today I need religion because I am human. My neighbor's exercise regimen is to be commended, but even bad weather or ill health can waylay him from it. Distractions or a shift in priorities can keep us from doing the things we need to do. Fatigue and stress can mess with our minds -- emotionally and physiologically -- so that routines which are so important, habits we need in order to live, can be completely forgotten. How does that happen? We're human. That's why the Bible tells us not to give up regular meeting with other believers. That's why Jesus commands us to remember Him regularly through the Lord's Supper. That's why we are to be baptized as outward evidence of a heart turned toward God. Religious acts, signs that not only serve to demonstrate we identify with Jesus, but they serve as reminders and commitments to each of us. Events we schedule or recall cause us to turn our thoughts to the Lord -- the One we truly need for life. As humans, we need regular celebrations and prompts to draw our hearts and minds to their true purpose. In fact, I am more likely to do my Bible reading without fail than I am to take my medication. And that's not because I am some religious nut or some "Super Christian" (they don't exist), it is because of the work of the Holy Spirit in me; it is because He changes and convicts me, is always close beside me, directing me in the path I should walk. And my daily dose of church (Bible reading, prayer, worship) is where I go to be reminded whose I am.

Religion drew me in and kept me close until the day I laid my life at the foot of the cross. Now, that may or may not be your testimony; God works in each of us differently. But, religion is also what keeps me close today. Not empty religion, mind you; not me doing things to earn favor with God or work my way to heaven, but routine commemoration. The candle I light to celebrate times the Lord has revealed Himself to me, or the verse I recite to remember the places He has brought me out of, or the weekly group I attend to uncover more truth about the One I serve -- actions that may appear to others as though I am going through some pious routine to gain favor with a supreme being, but are, in truth, set in motion and sustained by the One who has brought my heart from empty to full, from mere routine to righteousness. 

By the Strength of the Lord

How are you raising your children? To the best of your ability? That's how I raised mine. I mean, who wouldn't, right? Well, I wouldn't. Not if I had it to do all over again. 

When I was raising my children, I worked a nightshift, 11 PM to 4 AM, prime sleep time. I'd try to catch a nap before going in, but that rarely worked out. Then, I was up at 8:30 or 9 AM to homeschool. That's right, I was an overachiever. And not a very good one. I was exhausted (read: short-tempered and selfish). I never said "no" when Mom would show up an hour into our school day "just to talk"; I hated the things she said about people who didn't do things her way, and I certainly didn't want her saying those things about me. So, my children suffered. After she'd leave I'd browbeat them into getting their work done before I ran them to karate and hockey and dance and whatever else they wanted to do. I let them skip assignments and take extra days off -- just because I didn't want to hear them complain and just because I felt so guilty I couldn't do it all. I vacillated between permissive and irate. I had no clue how to set boundaries for myself or for my children. I wanted to enjoy being a mother, and sometimes I did, but I constantly second guessed myself and always measured myself against the other moms. I always felt as though "the best of my ability" would never be good enough. I was right.

Fast forward to today. I am not the same person I was. Solely, because the Holy Spirit has had His finger on my entire life. There are blessings I have received simply because God loves me and blessings I have received because my behavior is not what it was years ago -- blessings of better consequences, you might say. I have had hardship and pain, and plenty of those head-scratching moments -- all because He is working to transform me, teach me, prepare me, and make me look more like Christ, my Namesake. As a result, the things I do today, I pray, I do not to the best of my ability, but by the strength of the Lord. (Twenty years ago, I would have had no idea what that meant. These days I can almost feel it when I've gone from AutoPilot ☝ to "let me have a crack at it.") 

I often wonder how differently things would have turned out had I welcomed the Holy Spirit into my life when I was my raising children, and it grieves me. I have apologized to my children. I have apologized to my ex-husband. I have apologized to myself. And I have apologized to the Lord. But the regret is there. I wish I could go back and do it all again. I wish I could go back and be the person God is making me, for those who were in my care back then. But I can't. And I don't usually write things like this. I don't usually talk about regrets and simply leave it out there, but someone needs to hear this. Someone needs to know it's not too late. Someone needs to know the transforming power of the Holy Spirit is real. Someone needs to know that when we follow Jesus, the only regret we have is not doing it sooner - before the marriage ended, before the words were said, before the children were grown, before the bridge was burnt, before it ended in a guilty verdict. Today, the Holy Spirit put this burden on my heart, and He knows who you are. I pray you do life by the strength of the Lord.

Questioning Faith

This morning's devotions got me thinking about faith: "To what extent do you live by faith? Just as we were saved by faith, we live by faith."

Have you been saved by faith? Do you think you're going to heaven? Do you even believe there is a heaven, or hell, or God, or His Son who died for you? Those are some pretty big concepts. Some people wrestle with this stuff their entire lives. In Jesus' day, there were scholars and self-appointed authorities who discussed traditions and the concepts found in the Torah, constantly. It's pretty safe to say a number of them died never seeing the Truth that stood right before them. Here we are, quite a number of years later. The Bible even says, "Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed." (John 20:29) Do you remember what you thought, hearing about Jesus for the first time? Two thousand years ago, a young virgin had a son. How does a virgin get pregnant? That Son was God. But He was a baby? He died and came back to life. Mm, yeah. It's not like they had CPR back then. If I confess Him as Lord and Savior, I will live after I die. After I die? Doesn't dead mean just that? And reign with Him on Earth one day. When? Now that takes some BIG faith!

"Well, sure!" you say. "But I'm sold out! All in!" you say. "It's harder to believe humanity arrived by accident and has no purpose," you say. Well, that's great. You have faith. But, can I ask why you can believe all that without so much as an ounce of skepticism, but you can't believe God is working for your good? You can't believe God's going to provide everything you need? You can't believe God will give you wisdom and direction for this upcoming decision? You can't believe God will fight for you? You can't even believe God loves you? 

Were you there for the virgin birth? Did you see the empty tomb? Has anyone returned from heaven with 8x10 glossies of what goes on up there? No, no, and no. But all that you can believe. How about God's faithfulness to Noah, Abraham, Hannah, Ruth...? Oh, you think He loved them more. What about God's faithfulness to you last year when your car broke down only moments before that serious ten-car pile up down the road? What about the great job you landed years back, the one where you sat right next to the woman who led you to Jesus? Remember how God provided the money to pay the medical bills from your surgery? Do you still think He's not looking out for you? Do you still think He doesn't love you? I've got another one: If God doesn't love you, why did He give so much to spend all eternity with you? Would you give even a portion of what you have to spend the rest of your life with someone you don't like? Why would He give His all? Why would He spend every moment transforming you into a new creature, shed His blood washing your sin away, expend resurrection power securing your eternity -- if He didn't love you?

So, can we agree, He has proven His love for you? And if He loves you, and you believe He does, why do you not have the faith to trust that what He has provided, what He is doing in your life is for His glory and your good? Are you willing to live your life with the same degree of faith it takes to believe in a virgin birth or an empty tomb? Are you willing to confess, "With God, nothing will be impossible" (Luke 1:37)?