It’s the time of year when Christmas movies begin to beckon our attention, and I’m wondering if you’ve ever watched “Holiday Inn.” For a lighthearted evening, it’s one of our family favorites. Irving Berlin wrote twelve songs for the 1942 film, including the best-selling single of all time, “White Christmas.” (The “White Christmas” quasi-remake movie followed in 1954, but the setting was changed to Vermont.)

Back to “Holiday Inn” … Jim Hardy, played by Bing Crosby, has given up the world of show business  to work on his Connecticut farm. He converts the farm into a country inn, open only for holidays. As Jim goes through his first year at the Holiday Inn, there’s a song for each season, and the music figures prominently into his life experiences. When Thanksgiving rolls around, Jim is thoroughly depressed. The inn is closed, and Jim barely touches his Thanksgiving dinner. (Don’t worry, there’s a happy Hollywood ending after all.)

All that to say, the film’s song for Thanksgiving is “I’ve Got Plenty to Be Thankful For.” It tends to get lost in the movie’s zaniness, but here you go …

“I’ve got plenty to be thankful for
I haven’t got a great big yacht
To sail from shore to shore
Still I’ve got plenty to be thankful for
I’ve got plenty to be thankful for
No private car, no caviar
No carpet on my floor
Still I’ve got plenty to be thankful for”

Literally hundreds of times, the Bible exhorts us to be thankful. An attitude of continual thankfulness doesn’t come naturally, but it’s a key part of our calling in Christ. “Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you” (1 Thessalonians 5:18). I’m just starting to understand that thanksgiving is our heartfelt acknowledgment that the things which Christ has done for us are true and real. It’s a heart posture of “Amen” to the things of God. It’s a humble acknowledgment that God always has our best interests at heart, so we are free to thank Him for everything – and to mean it.

The “original thanksgiving” in Plymouth followed a terrible year – humanly speaking – and untold amounts of loss. Many Pilgrims had died from hunger and disease, but that didn’t stop the praise to God. The first “national thanksgiving” dates back to 1777, while the British still occupied Philadelphia, New York, and other cities. But hard times didn’t thwart the thanks, prayer, and celebration. So it’s no surprise that the Civil War sealed the deal. President Lincoln proclaimed the first “official thanksgiving” at a time that was nothing less than desperate. Sisters and brothers, America’s “Thanksgiving” was born out of hardship. My point is that thanksgiving is our high calling – no matter what.

Maybe you tend to hop in your morning shower with less than a hop. Perhaps you feel tired, grumpy, or irritated by the fact that a thousand responsibilities are already calling your name. It’s the perfect time to start thanksgiving … thank the Lord for the hot running water … thank Him for the soap … thank Him for the towel. Next, it might be a good idea to thank God for the bathroom. Before you know it, you’ll be thanking Him for your socks and shoes and house and family. That’s how Thanksgiving works. It works on us.

Thank Him for everything, large and small …

“I’ve got eyes to see with, ears to hear with
Arms to hug with, lips to kiss with
Someone to adore
How could anybody ask for more?
My needs are small, I buy ‘em all
At the five- and ten-cent store
Oh, I’ve got plenty to be thankful for”

I like that song from the inn. But my favorite Thanksgiving song doesn’t come from a movie. Folliott Sandford Pierpoint penned it in 1864, and my favorite verse is this one, directed to Jesus …

“For Yourself, best gift divine,
To the world so freely given,
Agent of God’s grand design:
Peace on earth and joy in heaven.
Christ, our Lord, to You we raise
This, our hymn of grateful praise!”

I’m thankful for a Savior and King who’s more into grace than I could ever imagine.

I’m thankful that I don’t have to run the universe.

I’m thankful for a job, and the joy of a hard-day’s work.

I’m thankful that God made bacon taste so good – on anything, in anything, or all by itself – and that it tastes even better when it gets just a little bit burned.

I’m thankful for my favorite songs, and that some of them still make me want to dance.

I’m thankful for the warm sun on my back.

I’m thankful for the preschoolers who roam the hallways outside my office.

I’m thankful for the family photos hanging above my computer screen.

I’m thankful for the semi-sweet iced tea sitting on my desk.

I’m thankful for more than six decades of life.

I’m thankful for more friends than I ever deserved.

I’m thankful for the chance to pen a few sentences today, and to share them with you.

I’ve got plenty to be thankful for!

Pastor Charles

Sometimes God does amazing things when His people start to pray.

In January of 2023, Tonya Prewett – married to Auburn University Assistant Basketball Coach Chad Prewett – became vividly aware of the opportunities that were under her nose to reach Gen Z with the gospel. As a coach’s wife with a love for campus life, Mrs. Prewett was already involved in the lives of college students, but the Lord gave her a particular awareness of the anxiety and depression that many of them were experiencing.

Beginning with an unassuming Bible study hosted by Tanya, God began to stir a magnificent movement of His Spirit at Auburn. At first, five young women attended Tanya’s study, but within a month that number had grown to over 200. Everything I’m describing was fueled by humble, intentional prayer. You may have seen national media coverage of the powerful worship and preaching that took place at Neville Arena – with about 5000 in attendance – that resulted in a couple of hundred unexpected baptisms in the lake at Auburn’s Red Barn. As you might imagine, as is always the case, that didn’t happen without some very public pushback.

When I first read about what was happening among university students in Alabama, I remembered what I had witnessed the previous year at Asbury University, when Eileen and I traveled to Wilmore, Kentucky, to the very chapel where my seminary studies had begun in the 1980s. In that place very sacred to me, it seemed undeniable that the Holy Spirit was doing something new and marvelous among young adults – among the very people whom many in my generation assumed to be “the least spiritually inclined.”

Not true. Not true at all. When Auburn hit my radar screen, I found it marvelous that – whatever God was igniting – the flames of it were spreading from a safe Christian institution to a riskier “secular” environment. God was moving among Gen Z in America!

A revival is a spiritual awakening. It’s a work of God’s unearned sovereign grace. You and I can neither manufacture it, nor accomplish it, but we can – and we must – pray for it. Revival comes from God’s hand, and in God’s timing. J.I. Packer defined revival as “a characteristic work of God visiting communities of his people to deepen his work of grace in their lives and to extend his kingdom in this world.” Jonathan Edwards, a vital participant in the Great Awakening of the 1730s and 40s, described revival as “a recurring work of sovereign mercy, like successive waves breaking on the seashore.” Closer to here and now, I’ll quote Dr. Ben Carson on the subject: “As Tanya and her team have shown, a small prayer group can lead to a movement that transforms lives and brings hope to a generation … Revival is not just a distant dream; it is within our reach.”

Perhaps Asbury and Auburn were just the beginning of what may well be an awakening in our day. Could we really be experiencing a new wave of the mercy of God?

This fall, credible reports continue to pile up that God is doing great things among widespread pockets of college students, particularly in the Southeast – but well beyond. Campuses recently impacted include the University of Arkansas, Baylor University, the University of Florida, Florida State University, the University of Georgia, Mississippi State University, the University of South Carolina, and Texas A & M Corpus Christi. One evangelical organization reports a total of 70,000 students who’ve gathered for worship on eleven campuses, but representing within their mix students from at least 400 colleges and universities, including international students – who in many cases will take the gospel home to their countries of origin. Data collected from the aforementioned ministry translates to more than 5000 professions of faith in Christ, and more than 2000 baptisms, in their camp alone.

And it keeps happening. On October 30, more than 10,000 students packed into the basketball venue at the main College Station campus of Texas A & M University, where hundreds of eager young people rushed to the altar to publicly commit their lives to Christ. A social media post by Unite US reads as follows: “We are absolutely blown away by how God moved tonight in Reed Arena as over 10,000 college students gathered to lift the name of Jesus!”

I don’t have to tell you that – among these statistics – are more than a handful of real-life future world changers. That’s how our God does things! Behind the scenes, He’s always moving in ways that are more astonishing than we could ever imagine.

Let’s do our part to love these Gen Zers. They’re completely enmeshed in our fast-clipped digital age – they’ve never known anything else – so they’re quite familiar with the vast brokenness of this world. If our inquisitive youth here in Green Hills are any indication, they’re not afraid of hard questions. Smartphones open up a world of possibilities, but also a world of mental health challenges. Feelings of helplessness and panic are not foreign to this generation. But I believe that they’re craving authentic community. That’s where we come in.

But, when it comes to helping young adults answer their hard questions, you and I have to learn to stop talking and start listening. This isn’t particularly easy for us, as we’re generally uncomfortable with conversational dead space of any kind. Societally and deliberately, Gen Zers have been tilted toward an atheistic worldview. Social media platforms are like a Broadway stage on which Gen Zers feel like they must perform and – don’t miss this part – compare themselves to everybody else. The comforts of tradition – including traditional understandings and underpinnings of faith – get regularly sidelined by the latest trends. Such pressure to forsake the past and keep all options open is enormous and relentless.

Your relationships with Gen Zers will require time and patient investment on your part. There are few immediate successes. What I’m calling you to today is the long haul of love. In time, once a relationship is established, God will give you the creativity and opportunity to speak gospel truth into the struggles that your Gen-Z friend is almost certainly experiencing right now. As you share honestly your own struggles with guilt, shame, and unhealthy comparisons, trust that the Lord will open the door of your friend’s heart. And never forget that, when it comes to impacting every generation, your joy in Jesus is highly contagious.

I appreciate the paraphrased version of Proverbs 36:5-6 that’s found in “The Message”: “God’s love is meteoric, his loyalty astronomic, His purpose titanic, his verdicts oceanic. Yet in his largeness nothing gets lost; Not a man, not a mouse, slips through the cracks.”

Friends, let’s pray for these young people like they matter. Because they do.

Surf’s up!

Pastor Charles

Like many of his childhood friends, when our Josh was a little guy, Buzz Lightyear was among his notable heroes. “To infinity and beyond!” I may or may not have teared up during one of the movies in the spectacular “Toy Story” series. I plead the Fifth.

Like Buzz, I can vacillate between courageous and insecure. My rhythm isn’t entirely predictable, but suffice it to say that I’m not always in the mood to conquer the planet. Instead of blasting off and taking on the world with the joy of the Lord, I can get stuck on the launch pad or diverted in flight by my own inner world of negative and self-condemning thinking.

I can forget my coordinates, or fail to follow the Master flight plan. Here’s how I generally get off-course … I start worrying that I said the wrong thing in this particular situation or that … or I start remembering my past sins in high definition … or I start focusing on how much I think I’ve disappointed God … or I start obsessing over the thought that I’ve disappointed someone else, or disappointed everybody … or I start fixating on the solid conviction that I don’t measure up, and that I’ll never measure up … or I start feeling weighed down by some combination of these thoughts, or by all of them at once.

I know that I’m created in God’s image, and I know that God has claimed me as His own, but sometimes I just can’t feel that in my bones. Something feels shattered and distorted. Something feels cold and gray. Something feels heavy and haunting. And I need a fresh and powerful and reassuring word from Mission Control …

“There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus” (Romans 8:1).

No condemnation. Could this really be true? Friends, if this is true, it’s the best news in the universe. And I’m here to tell you that it’s true!

If I were asked to summarize the book, I would say that the overarching theme of Romans is justification by faith. That glorious doctrine – how God declares undeserving sinners like us forgiven – fuels Paul’s opening line in this great chapter. I think of it as a feast of gladness in one verse: no condemnation! This unbreakable promise – God’s unbreakable promise to us – weaves together all of the threads of salvation truth that Paul has described in detail in the previous seven chapters.

For starters, Paul has carefully explained that justification is a forensic event – a legal transaction – by which a holy God pardons the sins of those who trust in Christ, and imputes to them instead a perfect righteousness. As a free gift, we receive the complete pardon earned by Jesus on the cross. Paul doesn’t mean only that we aren’t condemned. His point is stronger than that. He means that we’re completely free from any debt or penalty whatsoever. Not only are we not under condemnation any longer, but the verdict against us doesn’t exist. It’s gone forever! No charge against us can ever stand again.

And no one can condemn us. Such false charges are to be laughed out of court.

This is the gospel that we must preach to ourselves when the going gets tough between our ears: nothing but the blood of Jesus! Paul has already described believers as “those whose lawless deeds have been forgiven, and whose sins have been covered” (Romans 4:7). In Christ, you and I are spotlessly clean and absolutely free, as the Lord no longer takes our sins into consideration (Romans 4:8). Not just the penalty for our sins has been eradicated, but Christ’s perfect score of righteousness has been credited to our delinquent account (Romans 4:11). Christ died for us, and He lived – and lives – for us.

Amazingly and wonderfully, we can now face God with no fear of His judgment whatsoever – the judgment and condemnation we lawfully deserved – because Jesus self-sacrificially took the full weight of our guilt and shame upon Himself. Though “all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:23), the grace of Christ has triumphed by securing our eternal life (Romans 6:23), as Christ’s empty tomb validated forever every dimension of His incomparable good news! To infinity and beyond!

I’ll confess that this is the renewed vision that I urgently need when the self-accusations spin out of control. Only God can help me see and believe what is really true. We must keep in mind that the enemy strategizes to erode our hope and inhibit our strength. As we try to navigate disappointment, confusion, unmet expectations, sadness, suffering, and loss – all of which are part of this life – we can move away from our faith in Christ without realizing it. Satan wants our problems to feel overwhelming, and our God to feel distant and aloof. He wants us to distrust the awesome Savior who gave us life. If hell’s agents can provoke us to question the love or the power of God, then we’ll shrink back in despair and unbelief. Satan wants us sidelined, defeated, and out of the race.

But that’s not who we are. You and I are worshippers of the Christ who never changes, meaning that He is willing and ready to do in and for us all of the glorious things that we read about in the Scriptures – more than we could ever imagine: to infinity and beyond! When the lies and deceptions come our way – and they will – our job is to humble ourselves and seek the face of our merciful Father, who stands ready to fill us with His faithful Spirit and His steadfast hope. We’re His beloved sons and daughters. God disciplines us in love, and that includes convicting us (speaking to us heart-to-heart) when we need redirection, but He will never – ever – condemn us.

These are the compelling truths that, when celebrated as they should be, set me free – and empower me to fly high again. Friends, they are your truths too, because they are God’s. Intense thoughts of condemnation, including self-condemnation, will come against you more than once, but they are nothing but phony accusations (Romans 8:2). Because the grace of God in Christ has liberated you entirely, you are never to be condemned again (Romans 8:31) – to infinity and beyond!

This is too good to be true. Except that it is. Hallelujah!

Move over, Buzz.

Pastor Charles

“L’chaim!” – “To life!” – is a Hebrew celebratory toast. Anybody remember Tevye and Lazar in “Fiddler on the Roof”? Much richer than our English “Cheers!” or the Spanish “Salud!” is this popular and warm-hearted sentiment shared among family and friends within the Jewish community. It’s a simple but profound blessing by which people speak glad tidings of life to each other, for each other, and over each other. “To life!”

This toast to life makes perfect sense, as the gift of life permeates Hebraic culture and tradition. In fact, the sanctity of human life permeates the Word of God. So “L’chaim!” is an expression of mutual thanksgiving. It’s a verbal acknowledgment that God has been good to us by giving us each other – by allowing our lives to intersect. It’s an expression of appreciation for the blessing that is ours to spend some time together in this life. It’s a collective “thank you” to God for something as simple as the shared meal which gives us the chance to raise a glass with our friends.

“L’chaim!” should serve as a reminder to all of us that God values life. From the moment that our Creator breathed life into Adam until that moment at the great Marriage Feast when Christ will speak “L’chaim!” over His bride, life matters. We who are the Church – Christ’s bride, whom He will celebrate at the joyful supper I just mentioned – must revere life as a sacred gift to be celebrated, honored, and protected.

The premise of the sanctity of human life is as old as time itself. “So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them. And God blessed them. And God said to them, ‘Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth …” (Genesis 1:27-28).

But, in many corners, life is anything but celebrated, and here’s the hard and awful reality. Abortion in America is a dirty, dangerous, and deadly business. Its origins are undeniably steeped in the ugliest forms of racism and hatred. (If you have not done so, please research Margaret Sanger.) Since 1973, over 60 million lives have been lost to this pagan sacrament. In 2021-22, Planned Parenthood performed 392,715 abortions, an increase of 20% over the previous ten reports. In its 2022-23 report, Planned Parenthood listed nearly $2.1 billion in income and over $2.5 billion in net assets. Taxpayer funding in the form of government grants, contracts, and Medicaid reimbursements hit $699.3 million. Friends, that translates to almost $2 million per day. Sadly, the organization’s taxpayer funding has increased by 43% since 2010.

But what’s most concerning to me is the absolute fever pitch with which many people seem to desire to enshrine abortion rights permanently into the cultural and legal framework of our already-broken society. With a passion akin to unchecked spiritual fervor, pro-abortion warriors seem willing to participate in and encourage a moral atrocity to which every other genocide in history pales in comparison. By way of example, in New York City, 60% of all African American pregnancies now end in abortion. 60%.

I’m reading and hearing lots of political rhetoric about the rights of women to control their own bodies. Believe me, if this issue were simply a matter of personal autonomy or freedom for women, I’d be staunchly on the “pro-choice” side. But let me ask you a simple question: How many noses does a woman have? One. How many noses does a pregnant woman have? One. When there’s a pregnancy, the woman’s body is not the only body to be considered. There’s a baby’s body that’s been created in God’s image. The developing fetus (that’s Latin for “little one”) has its own complex circulatory system. The baby has its own arms, legs, fingers, and toes. Wondrously, it has its own complete set of human DNA that is unique, and different from the mother’s. The growing baby is clearly not just “part of the woman’s body.” Laws against abortion are designed to protect the baby’s body, and we can’t lose sight of that.

I am not ashamed to tell you that the pro-life position is the most pro-woman position on the planet because it’s the most pro-human. It speaks up for the smallest, the most vulnerable, the most defenseless, and the most voiceless on Planet Earth. It speaks against a tragic violation of fundamental human and civil rights. And, primarily, it recognizes basic and intrinsic human dignity and worth. It acknowledges that the silent unborn are created in God’s own image, and it allows those precious image-bearers to live. “To life!”

Surely, we who follow the Lord Jesus Christ can do our part in the public square to articulate – with humble grace – that every life matters. We know that it won’t be easy, but that’s a small price to pay in light of how God has celebrated, honored, and protected us. Who knows? Maybe the Lord will use our conviction and courage to usher in a season of life-giving revival and renewal in our land and in our day.

“L’chaim” is an intentional celebration of life’s beauty, vitality, and resilience. The spirit of the blessing commemorates not just a past that has been difficult, and often laden with trials and tears, but a faithful and undeniable perseverance that has won the day in the end. In my humble opinion, this sounds great for America right now! Let’s lead the way, Beloved of Christ, in humble gratitude to our God – and the God of Abraham – for life’s manifold blessings. And let’s covenant together not to waste the gift of life, but to make every moment count.

Because of a special plural ending in the Hebrew language, “chaim” means two lives. Literally, it refers to a pair of lives. So we should understand that the powerful blessing of “L’chaim!” encompasses not just this life, but the next life as well. Life is forever. What I’m saying is that how we uphold the sanctity of life, right now, matters for eternity. My prayer is that we will reject the heartless and self-absorbed spirit of this age for what it is, and that our hearts and lives will reflect – counterculturally and deliberately – the character of the selfless Jesus over whose impending birth the unborn John the Baptist leapt for joy in his mother’s womb.

“To life!”

Pastor Charles

Maltbie Babcock penned the words in 1901 …

“This is my Father’s world:
O let me ne’er forget
That though the wrong seems oft so strong,
God is the Ruler yet.”

Sometimes it’s hard to keep that straight in an election year. And yet, I’m here to tell you that God is doing something marvelous in His world!

It’s still His world. Come what may, it’s still our Father’s world. And Jesus is still the King!

In my daily devotions, I happen to have arrived at Zechariah 8. Whenever I see promises in God’s Word about the coming prosperity and peace of God’s people, I’m reminded that God’s story is true – whether or not I see evidence of it in the news. And I’m reminded that the Bible tells one beautiful story, no matter what part we’re reading. Today I recognized that “the blood of the covenant” in Zechariah 9:11 refers to God’s covenant with Moses at Mount Sinai (Exodus 24:8), but also that our Lord Jesus used the same phrase as He – at the Last Supper – pictured His own fulfillment of God’s promises as our Passover Lamb (Matthew 26:28). So the prophet Zechariah points us back, and points us forward, at the same time – in the same verse. God’s Word is truly remarkable.

And Christ is the center of the Scriptures. He’s the hero of the story. Every page of the story whispers His name. When He came to bring us “good news,” He came not only to do the things that had been promised, but to be the One who had been promised: the Messiah. The New Testament speaks loudly of what this means for us: “All the promises of God find their Yes in him” (2 Corinthians 1:20).

In Zechariah’s day, things weren’t looking so good. Having brought much trouble and chaos upon themselves by their unfaithfulness to God, the people had learned the hard way that they weren’t the envy of the world. Foreign powers had overtaken and controlled them, and the people were dogged by relentless discouragement. But Zechariah’s central message is that God plans to restore Israel. Though He has used their exile for their good and His glory, God has unstoppable plans to make them whole again. They are, after all, His people.

We who follow Christ must pay careful attention to the goodness of God. Though the Bible promises an undoubtable shaking of everything – literally, everything (Hebrews 12:25-29) – the Bible also reminds us that God’s passion for His people is unyielding. “Our God is a consuming fire.” That truth cuts both ways. It ought to drive us to fear Christ. But it also ought to drive us to worship Christ with all that we are.

How gorgeous are these ancient promises spoken by God through Zechariah! The faithful Sovereign who loves with nothing less than perfect steadfast love will reign among the people who are faithful to Him. And God will establish in the midst of His people a peace that is everlasting. “And they shall be my people, and I will be their God, in faithfulness and in righteousness” (8:1-8).

God’s people don’t deserve any of this grace, but the character of their King demands it. May the next verse nudge all of us: “Let your hands be strong!” I understand that you and I are not rebuilding a literal temple with our hands, but I believe that this word speaks also of our need to surrender to the authority of the King. He has not abandoned His rule. He has not forsaken us. He has not wound us up like a clock and left us to tick away on our own. In this tumultuous season in which we find ourselves, we have been called to reflect the King’s character. Love, joy, peace …

There is so much practical encouragement in Zechariah 8. “Speak the truth to one another.” “Render judgments that are true and make for peace.” “Do not devise evil in your hearts.” Love no false word.” We have our work cut out for us, friends, and our loyalty to Jesus will require our sanctified sweat. And our work ethic must display a goodness that far exceeds political expediency.

Yes, things are shaking. But God is faithful, and never anything less. As we display the character of the true King – in the midst of the shaking – we expand the gracious reach of His kingdom. We’re the visible embodiment of the King – let that sink in – and how we love matters right now (Matthew 5:1-16, 43-48; Romans 12:9-21). Are we willing to be poor in spirit, but rich toward God – like bona fide citizens of heaven? Are we willing to be insulted for the honor of our King? Are we willing to take care of our fellow saints? Are we willing to rejoice with those who rejoice, and to weep with those who weep? Are we willing to repay no one evil for evil? Are we willing to feed our enemy, and to give him something to drink?

For such a time as this, you and I are called to the dangerous but joyful frontlines of the countercultural revolution of grace and truth.

Perhaps the most astounding promise that  Zechariah receives from the Lord is that the world is watching! This hope is also for us. People who are far removed from the truth … people who are antagonistic to God’s Word … people from parts of the globe where God and His gospel are forbidden … will one day seek after the King who reigns forever in us. Miraculously, they will desire the Jesus who is Lord of all. Why would the nations ever do such a thing? “Because we have heard that God is with you” (8:23).

Be not discouraged, but be enthused. For we are receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken. The cross and the tomb are empty. Hallelujah!

“This is my Father’s world:
Why should my heart be sad?
The Lord is King: let the heavens ring!
God reigns; let earth be glad!”

Pastor Charles

“Comfort, comfort my people, says your God.”

The first verse of Isaiah 40, penned during a time of widespread instability and uncertainty much like our own, is the inviting intro to one of the most moving chapters in all of Scripture. It reminds us that God is in control of whatever situation we’re facing. This is good news, friends! Even when the world feels very much out of control, it is not. It is so not. Our God is powerfully and wonderfully in control. He’s in control of all things – here and now.

In that same marvelous chapter, I find so many words of comfort for the turbulent age in which you and I find ourselves. It’s like the words were written for today, and – in an important sense – they were. Particularly, I’m drawn to Verses 28-31, which I’ll unpack just a little today for our comfort and joy.

“Have you not known? Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth.”

During the lifetime of the prophet Isaiah, Israel was nothing short of a political hot mess. Threats were widespread and coming from every direction, as tyrannical Assyrian powers toppled everything that was dear to God’s people. At the same time – though His people lost sight of this truth on a regular basis – God was with them. This gorgeous portion of God’s Word was given to fan the flame of a spiritual hope that was only flickering at this point. The everlasting God – the God who superintends every chapter of human history – had not abandoned them.

Despite their hot mess, God was offering His people another opportunity to embrace – in the depth of their soul – the everlasting truth of His everlasting presence. Friends, I submit to you that God is presenting us today the same life-changing opportunity.

“He does not faint or grow weary; his understanding is unsearchable.”

Though God’s people had suffered setback after setback, God wanted them to understand that He isn’t prone to such setbacks. Just as we can’t fathom the reaches of His wisdom, we’re unable to grasp the full extent of His sovereign rule and reign. Christ’s reign is a tireless reign, and it is – even more good news – a kind and benevolent reign.

^“He gives power to the faint, and to him who has no might he increases strength.”

It’s an amazing reality. Just like those who preceded us in faith, t’s entirely normal for our lives to feel out-of-control. We get weary, regularly. We try to run on empty, regularly. We meet affliction like a deer in the headlights, regularly. But that place of exhaustion, if we will make it also a place of surrender, is where God meets us and gives us what we don’t have.

“Even youths shall faint and be weary, and young men shall fall exhausted; but they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles;
they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint.”

In the mind of a typical Hebrew, an eagle was a noteworthy symbol of exceptional strength, and was to be admired much like we Americans respect our emblematic bald eagle. When God’s people thought of eagles, they thought of fearless warriors – but also of warriors who care deeply. They understood that eagles – upon sensing any threat at all – will do whatever it takes to get their young eaglets to safety. No matter the prowess of the predator, the eagle takes immediate action to protect the vulnerable.

And eagles are undeterred by lesser concerns. When the weather is terrible and menacing, eagles fly high above the storm clouds and soar freely far above the noise and the danger. So when we think of God giving a person “wings like an eagle,” we should imagine someone being given the ability – in Christ – to rise above the sin and corruption of this world and to serve God with their whole being. Eagle = Strength. Eagle = Valor. Eagle = Selflessness.

In the remarkable story of God’s deliverance of the Israelites from Egyptian slavery, the Bible speaks of eagles’ wings. Specifically, the Lord gave Moses a critical and timely word for His people (Exodus 19:4-5): “You yourselves have seen what I did to the Egyptians, and how I bore you on eagles’ wings and brought you to myself. Now therefore, if you will indeed obey my voice and keep my covenant, you shall be my treasured possession among all peoples, for all the earth is mine.” Isaiah is remembering that momentous promise, and calling his nation to remember it – and calling us to remember that. Our God is faithful!

Are you and I willing to soar above the fray? Are we willing to take courage in a day of fear? Are we willing to remain faithful to God – no matter the personal cost?

We will never fly high without a clear vision of heaven, because there’s far too much to worry about here. The term “mount up” is a translation of a Hebrew word which can mean “to ascend beyond a boundary.” That we can do only in Christ, because – without Him – there are far too many distractions and discouragements here. We have the problem of our own sin. We have the problem of our own shortsightedness. We have the problem of all of the attacks on our faith which seem to come at us from every direction. We have the ongoing problems of the cultural, political, and global hot mess that seems to be swirling like Dorothy’s tornado.

It’s time to fly higher! Maybe today isn’t the day that we get to go home to be with the Lord forever, but it’s a day when we can fly high enough above the noise of 2024 – and there’s a lot of noise out there – to get a fresh vision of hope, courage, and joy in our Lord Jesus Christ. “So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day” (2 Corinthians 4:16).

When I was growing up, we often sang a lively old spiritual from the Antebellum South. The song, written in slavery, was based on the faith profession of the penitent thief on the cross next to our Lord (Luke 23:42): “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” Some of the words we sang as kids were manufactured by over-zealous youth directors, but the original lyrics – simple yet profound – are these …

“I gotta home in gloryland that outshines the sun,
I gotta home in gloryland that outshines the sun,
I gotta home in gloryland that outshines the sun,
Way beyond the blue.

Do Lord, oh do Lord, oh do remember me,
Do Lord, oh do Lord, oh do remember me,
Do Lord, oh do Lord, oh do remember me,
Way beyond the blue!”

You and I are the helpless thief, but you and I are also the treasured possession. Whenever we need it most, the grace of Christ’s promise is as real as ever: “Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in paradise.”

Pastor Charles

The greatest servants of God go through seasons of doubt. You are not alone. If you’re in a place of spiritual skepticism, don’t be ashamed, but recognize that the Lord walks us through such valleys to graciously protect us from ourselves.

You and I need such valleys, because valleys are God’s mysterious way of protecting us from our foolish pride. You and I tend to underestimate how insidiously our pride operates by nature – and how much havoc our pride can wreak. Pride percolates silently but steadily. Pride blinds and betrays us. Pride puffs us up until we interpret the whole world through the myopic lens of, “What’s in it for me?” Pride pushes each one of us into a version of us that doesn’t make us happy, while telling us that we deserve to be happy – and insisting that we ought to be happy. Pride makes us unhappy, and then condemns us for our unhappiness.

Pride never sleeps, and it’s never content to invade only one small corner of my soul. It’s cancerous and insatiable. It wants all of me. It wants all of you too.

Ironically, it’s the religious community where pride is most dangerous, and where it can do the most damage. That’s because we who inhabit the religious world are masters at explaining away our pride. Like the Pharisees of old, we tend to justify our pride and our prideful responses to others. In fact, we live in an environment where pride can be obscured behind labels like “purity,” “sincerity,” and “conviction.” When we feel the need, we’re known to employ clever words to cover our sin.

That’s what pride does. And religious pride is the worst. Spiritual pride – which ought to be oxymoronic – is a monster and a killer. Nobody sees it coming. Our unchecked ego can blow through like a tsunami that evaded the radar. Hurricane Helene was horrific, and Milton looks no less monstrous, but – when it comes to widespread danger and destruction – there’s nothing like a proud church. Or a Christ follower who’s proud but doesn’t know it.

So don’t despise your present faith struggle, painful as it may be. God may be honing in on something vitally important for your growth in grace. Frankly, I’d be more worried if you never doubted. That’s because the moment we think we have our faith all ironed out is the moment we ought to be the most concerned. Pride is subtle and sneaky. It can morph into whatever shape it needs to take in order to deceive us. “All is well,” our pride whispers, when all is not well.

There is hope for our pride, but we usually find that hope in the valley. The Bible says that “God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble” (James 4:6). In reality, we don’t want our faith all “ironed out,” because we want there to be room – always – for God to change us. To show us where we’ve been wrong. To show us how much we need Him – especially when and where we don’t even recognize our need.

Mysterious valley. Precious valley. Wondrous valley.

The Israelites were encamped in a valley when young David secured his great victory over Goliath. A more mature David promised us the very presence of God even in the valley of death’s dark shadow. And it was in a valley where Elijah heard and saw the dry bones rattle with unexpected life!

The valley can be a great teacher. A great disciple-maker. A great restorer of a sound mind. A great reviver of a battered and tattered and tired faith. Sometimes our most exhilarating and life-giving interaction with God comes in what we thought was just another lonesome valley. And sometimes it’s right there in the valley where God wrestles us to the ground.

Sometimes, what you and I can’t possibly see from the highest mountaintop, we can see only from the valley.

So God leads us to the valley. And, though He never really left us – even for a millisecond – there in the valley we find Him. Amen. “Draw near to God, and He will draw near to you” (James 4:8).

Sacred valley.

“But,” you say, “this doesn’t feel like I’m wrestling with God. It feels like I’m wrestling with Satan.” Ah, that may be true, but never forget that God is sovereign over your every struggle. There’s nothing touching you that He isn’t allowing for your good and for His glory. Trust Him and fight. Trust Him, and surrender. “Submit yourselves therefore to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you” (James 4:7).

Wrestling with our faith in Christ might be the best thing ever to happen to us, friends. When this round is over, we may walk with a limp, but a real encounter with the living God will have been well worth it.

Our God loves us far too much to leave us running on empty – running on our empty pride. And resurrection always starts with a mortal blow.

Pastor Charles

“To give you an understanding of the devastation we’re dealing with: Chimney Rock is gone.”

Those were the words of a local filmmaker. Chimney Rock is – was – a town with a population of 140 in scenic Rutherford County, North Carolina. In the path of the remnants of Hurricane Helene, Chimney Rock was inundated by the floodwaters of the Broad River.

Chimney Rock is no more.

And, when it comes to the widespread devastation caused by Helene, Chimney Rock is the tip of the iceberg. We’re just beginning to comprehend the extent of the damage, destruction, and loss of human life. And the bullseye of the storm seems to be one of the most gorgeous regions of the USA – in my humble opinion – the highlands along the Tennessee and North Carolina border.

Though we can get fixated on what’s happening just to our east, I think that it’s important for us to remember why “natural disasters” happen anywhere on Planet Earth. In the beginning, when our first parents rebelled against God, their rebellion plunged the entire human race into full-blown mutiny. With sin came death (Romans 5:12). But humankind did not face the entirety of sin’s fallout. Creation itself was stricken. God’s Word recounts our history, and we’re reminded that God – in His flawless holiness – cursed the entire created order (Genesis 3:17; Romans 8:20).

The Apostle Paul goes on to explain that “the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth.” Describing our present fallen world, including the monstrous reach of Helene, he depicts a world that is longing to be “set free from its bondage to corruption” (Romans 8:21-22). This is what we’re observing, via jaw-dropping footage from the mountains and foothills of the American Southeast, even now.

We knew that the Big Bend of Florida was in trouble, but no one predicted this much loss this far inland. It wasn’t a likely scenario. But here we are. And nearby are our suffering neighbors. These kinds of disasters can happen anywhere, as you know. Fires ravage California. Typhoons pummel the Philippines. Earthquakes strike Haiti, Japan, Syria, and Turkey. There is no place on earth where sudden and widespread catastrophe is an impossibility.

Per the testimony of sacred Scripture, the groaning of the planet that we call home never stops. The groaning is continuous. The groaning is relentless. At times like this, the groaning is nothing short of heartbreaking.

Friends, sometimes it’s exceedingly difficult for us to face the God of the Bible for who He really is. We’d rather pretend that God has nothing to do with natural disasters, but what kind of powerless God would that be? It’s simply not true. The plain fact that God could prevent these disasters ought to give us pause, and persuade us to look upon Him with the reverence – the holy fear – that He deserves. We should recognize that these awe-inspiring events like Helene take place within God’s providence. Look no further than the plagues of Egypt or the storm that God “hurled” upon Jonah’s ship – rocking everyone on board to their core. There’s no question that God uses even tragic events for our good and for His glory.

And He uses them to get our undivided attention.

You and I mustn’t be afraid to bring God our biggest questions. A faith with big answers is a faith with big questions. God can handle our questions. The only dumb question is one we have but don’t ask.

And God is walking with us through this life, storms and all. Christ is “Immanuel” – “God with us” (Matthew 1:23). Not only is our Lord with us in the worst of storms, but – in and through those storms – He is accomplishing things too marvelous for us to imagine! Jonah’s unexpected storm was for the salvation of an entire unbelieving nation. “He alone is my rock and my salvation, my fortress; I shall not be greatly shaken” (Psalm 62:2).

Storms of incomprehensible proportions call each of us to reflection and repentance. How have I ignored the goodness and blessings of God? How have I, by unbelief and neglect, trampled upon God’s promises? How have I become spiritually careless, putting myself and others in harm’s way? How have I become so self-absorbed that I’ve failed to respond graciously to the suffering of others? How have I refused to worship Christ as Creator and Sovereign over all? And how have I failed “to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with my God” (Micah 6:8)?

We would be wise to remember that natural disasters are, among many other things, a picture of the judgment and wrath of God that are coming upon the earth. Jesus predicted famines and earthquakes (Matthew 24:7), and He said of the eighteen who were crushed accidentally by the collapse of the Siloam tower, “Unless you repent, you will all likewise perish” (Luke 13:5). Storms are always a benevolent wake-up call from the Almighty.

Yes, grace will have the last word. Not only does God help us cope with calamity, but Christ has entered into our broken world to redeem all of human history – even the harshest and most perplexing chapters of our lives. One day, Chimney Rock will make sense. Until then, you and I are called to proclaim the immovable hope of the gospel. The reason we help others at times like this, serving as the hands and feet of Jesus, is the Incarnation itself: “The Word became flesh” (John 1:14). It’s our privilege to love our neighbors as we’ve been so freely loved.

Helene is one chapter, but not the last chapter – and certainly not the whole story. As the old preacher exclaimed, “It’s Friday, but Sunday’s comin’!” After the Cross, there’s an empty tomb! We can’t fathom how much work will be required just to get I-40 up and running again, but our God has promised to make all things new. “He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more” (Revelation 21:3-5).

Perhaps the brave and spectacular rescue of helpless patients stranded on the roof of the hospital in Erwin, Tennessee, speaks volumes. “‘Twas grace that taught my heart to fear, and grace my fears relieved; how precious did that grace appear the hour I first believed!”

“I lift up my eyes to the hills. From where does my help come? My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth” (Psalm 121:1-2).

To the hills, I lift up my eyes.

Pastor Charles

God is doing something wonderful in my life. Wonderful and scary. I’ve never been more certain of His presence and power working in me, and yet I readily admit that I don’t completely understand where this is headed.

I think it’s a journey toward grace.

If you’ll allow me, I’ll try to explain. For many years, I have believed in the grace of Jesus Christ. His unearned favor, freely given as a gift, received by faith. The good news of the gospel is this: we trade our sin for Christ’s righteousness. It’s all of Christ. So, “amazing grace” is central to everything about me. I’m totally committed. My doctrine is rooted in grace. My understanding of my relationship to God is rooted in grace. My preaching is rooted in grace. My teaching is rooted in grace. And, as a Christ follower, all my hope for the future is rooted in grace.

And yet, I think that I’ve suffered from a debilitating grace disconnect. By that I mean that my knowledge of grace hasn’t translated into my personal experience of grace. I’ve been committed to salvation by grace in theory, but I’ve been slow to feel it in my bones.

Over the last year and a half, deep in my soul, something has shifted. The shift has been subtle but steady, so I’ve undergone a considerable transformation at this point. It all started when a trusted friend helped me recognize my struggle with anxiety. At first, I was quite reluctant to own any anxiety whatsoever – I am, after all, the life of the party – but eventually I was able to acknowledge that I’ve spent much of my life worrying about all kinds of things.

That may not seem to you like a big revelation, but it was to me. I had to recognize that my longstanding doctrinal commitment to the sovereignty of God was not overflowing from my mind to my heart. Said differently, my intellectual assent to “all things work together for good” was incapable of comforting my anxious heart.

The anxiety has been rough. In my particular situation, anxiety has not manifested itself in ways that make me look like a nervous person – to the outside world – but my anxiety has driven me to spend far too much time battling intrusive and catastrophic thoughts. Some of my thoughts have been diametrically opposed to what I know to be true. For example, I’ve struggled with obsessive fears that I’ve offended God beyond the reach of the atoning sacrifice of Jesus.

Friends, I know that the Cross is sufficient. I understand. I get it. I know that Christ’s blood covers all my sin. I know that I can’t out-sin the grace of God. I know all about “taking captive every thought” and “demolishing spiritual strongholds” and “being anxious for nothing” and “the peace which surpasses all understanding” and “thinking lovely and excellent thoughts.” I know all of those things, and they’re 100% true. I know them intellectually and theologically … but they’re not always confirmed by the most prominent voices echoing in the ear of my soul. Sometimes, at 3:00 in the morning, my anxiety screams louder than all that truth put together. Maybe you can relate.

I am learning, slowly but surely, that I don’t have to be embarrassed by those crises in the dark. I don’t like them. I don’t want them. I don’t look forward to them. And I’m not happily volunteering for more of them. But I don’t have to pretend that I’m something I’m not. And what I am is someone who’s prone to anxious thoughts. Even debilitating anxious thoughts. And that’s not an indictment of me. I think of it more like a handicap. A holy handicap, in fact. I’ve finally become convinced that God loves anxious Charles.

That milestone itself was a big step for me, because it allowed me to lay down my shame. I still pick up that shame from time to time, but shame and I are no longer joined at the hip. And, as I experience more and more freedom, I’m able to have much healthier conversations with God at 3 a.m. – or at any other time. When you’re not feeling “less than who God wants you to be,” it sets you free to welcome God to hang out with who you really are. I hope that makes sense.

Here’s the thing I’m learning about handicaps in our lives: they’re a point of human weakness, but they’re a place for God to shine! And that’s the change that God is making in me, albeit so slowly that it’s nearly imperceptible at times. Month by month. Day by day. Hour by hour. Minute by minute. My gracious God is moving me from despising my handicap to recognizing my handicap as an important tool in His merciful hands. My handicap is used of my Lord to drive me toward His incomparable grace. And not just theoretical grace, but practical grace. Grace that touches and changes me.

My strange handicap is, itself, a strange grace.

“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” That was God’s good and perfect Word to the Apostle Paul, who wanted so desperately to trade in his handicap for some other plan (2 Corinthians 12:7-10). It’s also God’s Word to you, and to me. Like Paul, will we – when grace finally overwhelms us as it should – brag about our holy handicaps?

This is my journey, and it’s still underway. It hasn’t been all fun – that’s the understatement of the day – but it holds tremendous promise for grace to have the last word. That’s what I want. And I believe that’s what God wants. As I walk this road, I’m trusting that my faithful Christ is spearheading this whole new adventure.

Though His voice sounds muted – by my humanness, I’m sure – I think that I can hear Him from not too far away. I think He’s cheering me on. And I think I’ll take another step.

Pastor Charles

Ever feel stuck?

I’m not talking about being stuck in an elevator, or stuck in a job you don’t like, but I’m talking about feeling spiritually stuck. As in: “After all these years walking with Christ, I can’t believe that I still have to struggle with [insert your least favorite temptation here].”

I mean, I’m not sure that anyone ever told us this explicitly, but I think that many of us lived under the impression that – at some point in our spiritual maturity – our proclivity to sin would simply lose its grip. But, as life has played out thus far, we’re still battling our old nature. In fact, it may even seem to you that your battle against your sin is raging more fiercely than ever.

As a lover of classic literature, I’m somewhat familiar with the genre known as bildungsroman. Think of it as a coming-of-age story, and I don’t have to tell you how powerful and compelling such stories can be. There’s “Jane Eyre” by Charlotte Brontë (1847), “The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn” by Mark Twain (1884), “Anne of Green Gables” by Lucy Maud Montgomery (1908), “The Catcher in the Rye” by J.D. Salinger (1951), and “To Kill a Mockingbird” by Harper Lee (1960). The stories involve the ups and downs and ins and outs of one’s formative years.

I’ll add another novel for your consideration: “Great Expectations” by Charles Dickens (1861). You likely remember Pip, the English orphan who takes on a whole new life when he receives a fortune from a benefactor he never suspects. Now amidst London’s high society, Pip must learn to navigate the strangeness of his new identity. They’re hard shoes to step into, and he makes a mess of much of it.

In our spiritual journey, you and I are Pip. I realize we’re not living in the Industrial Revolution, but we are – in Pip-like fashion – regularly surprised by how much we don’t yet know or understand about ourselves. This side of glory, for every follower of Jesus Christ, such struggles are timeless. No matter our age or how long we’ve served the Lord, we never grow out of our need to grow up. And, as long as you and I are growing in the grace and knowledge of Christ, the heat of the battle will feel at times more intense than we can possibly endure.

Through the ups and downs and ins and outs of your life, God is writing a marvelous story! On any given day, the rough patches of our sanctification can be a tough pill to swallow, but the reality of our emerging Christlikeness is the unbreakable promise of God to each one of us (Romans 8:26-30). I understand that lingering “Temptation X” – from my opening paragraph – can feel awfully discouraging, but I’m writing today to encourage you. Because here’s the truth: anything in our lives that boosts our desperate dependence on Jesus is a very good thing.

In a style that’s quite charming, Dickens tries to capture the deepest longings and loves of the human heart. Pip learns the hard way how to become a gentleman, and this requires facing some hard truths about himself. The same goes for us. We’re still growing up. We’re still growing into maturity. As we keep moving toward Christlikeness, the trials of our journey become the journey’s treasures. Whatever your age, these are your formative years.

As we are led by the Holy Spirit, and as we are being filled with the Holy Spirit, you and I are learning to think rightly and wisely. When we first came to saving faith in Christ, we couldn’t possibly have understood the depth of the lostness from which we’d been rescued. But now we’re coming into knowledge of the truth. We’re learning to dismantle our wrong assumptions. We’re learning to destroy strongholds of twisted thinking that have been allowed to operate for years. Even if we’ve been learning these lessons for what feels like a lifetime, the best part is that we’re still learning. Even if the progress seems slow by our estimation, God’s Word is still working powerfully in us. That’s the nature of what the Bible does.

God’s Word still works on God’s people. As long as we’re still here, His truth reaches deep into our souls and shines a piercing searchlight into the darkest crevices of our selfishness. It exposes our spiritual blindness. It challenges, and eventually topples, our stubborn idols. Its strength and efficacy are superior to that of any other word or influence. Charles Spurgeon described it like this: “The Word of God is like a lion. All you have to do is let the lion loose, and the lion will defend itself.”

Friends, there’s no such thing as having “arrived” at perfect spiritual maturity, this side of heaven. We’re always learning to think soundly … continually striving to practice what we preach … constantly praying for the ability to discern wisely in a hyper-confusing age. Like Paul, we’re pressing on toward the upward call and prize of Jesus Christ. We haven’t graduated from the school of pressing on. And, even when the time comes for our Lord to take us home, we’ll still be trusting in our gracious God.

Be encouraged! Despite some temporary setbacks along the way, our spiritual progress will prevail. If the end result were up to us, we’d have plenty of reason for skepticism, but the One who will carry us across the finish line is faithful and true. And He is able.

In Christ, anchored and secure, you and I are coming of age. We’ve embarked on the most thrilling of adventures, and the adventure is well underway. We’re learning, and relearning, to put on Christ. Though we stumble on occasion, and feel like we’ve failed a grade or two, we’re still stepping into our new identity – IN CHRIST – and embracing the grace that we’ve received for all it’s worth. Risen from the dead, our living Savior is working in us with nothing less than His own resurrection power – preparing us for a glorious eternity with Him!

That’s who you really are. You’re not the sum total of your defeats. You’re an eternal winner! Though the world doesn’t understand this, our temptations don’t define us. Even when we’re battered and bruised by our battles, the war against sin and death has been waged and won on a Cross: “It is finished!” With complete confidence, you and I can trust to the end that the reigning King of the universe is using even our hardest chapters to make us more and more like Jesus.

That’s a story worth savoring and celebrating. Christ has won! For us, this should be a day of great expectations.

Pastor Charles