Stand in Solidarity

“My thoughts and prayers are with you.” It is usually a sympathetic response to someone who has experienced pain and loss. Let’s get real. Sometimes it is a pat answer to tragedy, trite in nature. Do we honestly pray? Do we get down on our knees and petition God to fix things by intervening with his power and might?

I thought about this common response in the aftermath of the Orlando shooting. When I watched the news report and saw civilians carrying bodies down the street, I wept. I WEPT. I did not just weep because of the senseless violence. I wept because it was an act against the LGBT community. I wept because I knew what was coming. I wept because I knew that hatred would cross lines and people would NOT be doing what they should be doing – coming together in solidarity and grieving as a nation.

Social media has stirred the pot of hatred. I took a deep breath and spoke a word of prayer this morning when a member of the LGBT community yelled at someone on Facebook for not understanding because they were not gay. We do understand. Ask the parents of Sandy Hook. They understand. Ask the families of Christian men who have been beheaded by ISIS because of their faith. They understand. Ask the black community about their plight. They understand. I pray for solidarity.

On the other side of the coin, I have seen hatred spewed on every front from Republicans to Democrats. Stop using this tragedy for your agenda. A former student spoke truth when she quoted Abraham Lincoln. “A house divided against itself cannot stand.” We need to come together as a nation. The hatred is only creating chaos, and the terrorists are probably sitting back and laughing at our stupidity. Think of how they stand in solidarity against us. Wake up America. I pray for solidarity.

Let’s stop saying “My thoughts and prayers are with you” and learn how to go into the War Room and do battle in prayer. Get on your knees. Get on your face. PRAY like you mean it. Contrary to what some people are saying, prayer does change things when action accompanies it. Think of Jesus. Before his crucifixion, he was troubled in spirit, so he went into the garden to pray. Luke 22: 44 says, “And being in agony He was praying very fervently; and His sweat became like drops of blood falling down upon the ground.” How many of us pray that fervently? I doubt many of us do.

Again, Jesus did not just pray. He followed through with an action. His action was so filled with love that it required his death. How many of us are willing to love to the point of death for the LGBT community? Or do you find it easier to simply say, “My thoughts and prayers are with you?”

Finally, I am a Christian. I stand with the LGBT community. I am a prayer warrior for God, and I do go into my War Room and do battle on my knees.

Father, help us to have expressions of love versus hatred. Unite our nation and help us to stop being so judgmental. Let us stand in solidarity. Comfort the hearts of those who have lost loved ones. Alleviate the fear from the hearts and minds of the LGBT community. Give us all the grace to be more accepting. Most of all, I pray for the Army of heaven to fight against the evil coming against our nation and world. I pray for solidarity.  

I Am Passing Through the Refiner's Fire

“Why are you in despair, my soul? Hope in God, because I will praise him once again, since his presence saves me and he is my God.” Psalm 43:5

           

            I am writing this to my own soul today. I am struggling with fear, doubt, and depression. It happens to me sometimes, but right now the walls are crumbling down around me. They are familiar walls, and it is the very reason for my despair. When I was diagnosed with ovarian cancer seventeen years ago, the days prior to my diagnosis were filled with God speaking to me about the refiner’s fire. I knew I was about to face the purifying hand of God in my life, and I did. While chemotherapy was killing cells, God was clearing away the dirt and grime of my sin. Zachariah 13:9 says, “And I will bring the third part through the fire. I will refine them like silver and test them like gold. They will call on my name, and I will answer them. I will say ‘They are my people,’ and they will say, 'The Lord is our God.’”I don’t know how many times I called on God during those grueling days. I was desperate for Him. I needed him. I surrendered my will to HIS will, and I hungered and thirsted only for Him. He heard me. He really heard me. He delivered me not only from cancer but from my former self. It was a battle, but I survived by the purifying hand of God.  

            Now I am facing uncertainty again, and God is saying, “Trust me.” Last year, I had an infection in my jaw that was taken care of by a round of antibiotics. To make a long story short, I have seen an endodontist and my dentist, and I have had four infections since November with no concrete answers. This week I decided to go to my medical doctor who is sending me for a bone scan to rule out a mass. He did a blood marker test and made an appointment with his dentist who can check for osteomyelitis.

            It is a time when I am drawing near to God because I am so desperate. I am not eager to go through the refiner’s fire again. But, maybe I need it. Maybe I need the drenching of my soul with God’s purifying touch. The past few months I’ve realized how much I need to come to a place of surrender. I have seen the ugliness of my heart, and it isn’t pretty. Anger surfaces within me, an anger I thought had dissipated from my life a long time ago. Seeds of doubt have crushed my spirit to the point I am now a withered plant needing to be drenched by refreshing streams. At times, I have wanted to abandon my storm-battered ship, but I have stirred up every ounce of strength I’ve had left to persevere and sail on. In other words, I have been a mess to the point that I doubted if God could love a sinner like me.

            So here I am again, awaiting the news and knowing that no matter what storms I may pass through again, God is with me. He is my anchor in the storm. He is the purifier of my soul. He is the rushing wind of change. He is the refreshing rain after a season of bone dry faith. He is a God who loves me, even in the ugliness of my sin.

            As I speak openly to my soul, I know that many of you can identify with my circumstances. Please pray for me, but also let me pray for you. With Jesus by our side, we will weather this storm together.

           

           

He’s My Son

      This morning I listened to the song “He’s My Son” by Mark Shultz. The moment the first few chords strummed their way into my heart, the sobs welled up deep within the wound of remembrance.  The first time I ever heard the song was after my son, Brandon’s, appendix burst and his bowel perforated. I watched him suffer for months, and the helplessness I experienced kept me awake at night pacing the floor in prayers of petition. At times, I did not understand why God was not answering my prayers. One morning on the way to work, I cried out to God, “Let me take his pain.” Immediately after I made my request, “He’s My Son” came on the radio. I pulled over to the side of the road. My mother’s heart could no longer contain the sorrow. I put my head on the steering wheel and wept because I knew God understood my anguish. A mother’s heart is so deeply rooted in wanting to protect her children from harm. When things happen beyond our control, it is a bone-crushing devastating nightmare. The feeling of helplessness overwhelms us.  Our soul cries out to God, but at the same time, we are crushed in spirit.  I lived through my own ordeal with cancer, but when it came to almost losing my son, I wanted to give up. I could not go on living without him. By God’s grace,  I kept fighting. I could not let my anguish be wasted pain.  I had to be a warrior mom for him, so I got on my knees before God over and over again, storming the gates of heaven, and asking for healing, but most of all for His will to be done. It took nearly a year, but the healing process finally started. Six months later, Brandon contracted viral meningitis. How could I not scream out, “God, why? Don’t you see? He’s not just anyone. He’s my son.” After months of speech therapy, vocational therapy, and physical therapy, Brandon slowly made progress. To this day, my heart still cries out to God for him when I see him struggle. The debilitating disease that caused his appendix to burst and bowel to perforate still fights against his physical body, which is why the song still hits home even today.

               Brandon isn’t the only son who has struggled with life’s challenges.  My son, Geoffrey, has faced his own battles. At his birth, I took on the role of protector because I thought I was the only one who could do it. In his late teens, I watched him fight a drug addiction that could have taken his life if God had not intervened. I am the one who watched him fade into nothingness from the drug’s power. I am the one who sat with him in those first few days as he fought through withdrawal without help from a rehab clinic. I was the one who protected him for eighteen years from knowing his mother’s fears, his familial roots, his biological father.  However, I know that Jesus sat with me during those times. I was not alone nor was he. I saw the near destruction of my relationship with him, only to see God make it stronger. Do I still try to protect him? Yes. It is instinctual. Most mothers want to protect their children. When I see the strong man he has become today, I know God’s hand will guide him, even when I am not around to try my version of protection.

              When I think of both of my son’s perilous journeys, I think of the song “He’s My Son” because I can imagine God, the Father, saying the very same thing when he sent his son to the cross to die for our sins. I can imagine Him watching the beatings, the nails driven into his hands and feet, and the final breath he took. I can imagine his grief when His son asked Him to take the cup of suffering from him, but how He rejoiced in his son’s willingness to complete His purpose. God knows my mother’s heart because it is His heart too. Jesus was not just anyone. He was God’s only son. I know many parents who have lost children. It is the hardest journey a mother, or father for that matter, can take. However, knowing God experienced your sorrow makes it just a little easier to bear. I will never say it takes away all of the pain, but I know even in the midst of a grief-stricken heart, a peace that passes all understanding is there for the asking. God’s peace is what keeps my heart and mind at rest. So when I continue to worry about my boys, I will remember the one hard truth. God knows my mother’s heart. He knows! I will rest on the lap of God and simply listen to his heartbeat. I have said it before when we allow our hearts to beat in sync with His, we are at peace in all circumstances. 

Change of Season

            I admit sometimes I need a backbone. When voices rise against me or circumstances are overwhelming, I stand in the corner and shake like a frightened animal. Can you see it? The trembling limbs, the chattering teeth, and the halted breath. Last Sunday, for the first time in five years, I had an anxiety attack. During praise and worship, I could not catch my breath. Panic set in. I thought my heart was going to stop beating. Is this the season of anxiety? I hope not.

            The next day while teaching, I felt overwhelmed by my circumstances. I felt like I was in an onslaught of slinging arrows. Don’t worry. My students are not necessarily the enemy. It is the lion that at first whispers, then growls, and then roars. Thankfully, God brought one simple truth to mind. “Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the Lord your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you” (Deuteronomy 31:6). I understand this truth having lived through many trials and tribulations. Even so,  I still crumble when adversity first strikes. After years of living through raging storms, I wish I remembered that my God is faithful.

            Dependent on where you live, weather related storms are often seasonal. As I write this blog, I can attest to the winter storms being something we often face. We are in the midst of a blizzard (see picture). We have a saying in Rochester – if you don’t like the weather, wait a few minutes, it will change. It is because weather patterns are fleeting and so are our circumstances. The storms we face in our Christian walk are but for a season. I have seen the season of a failed marriage, a cancer journey, a son’s near death, and another son’s drug addiction. God stood with me through each storm. He did not leave me. In fact, He reminded me again and again that he would never leave my side. Another verse often came to mind when I was on the battle front: “Do not be afraid or discouraged because of this vast army. For the battle is not yours, but God’s ( 2 Chronicles 20:15).  Sometimes the vast army is my doubts and fears about the outcome, but recognizing it is not my battle makes raising my sword much easier.

            I am going through another battle season right now. A season of questioning where I think I need to be, where God purposed me to be, and where I ultimately want to be. Can I say it is a raging storm in my head? YES!!!! It is a hurricane of doubt, fear, and hope.  Sometimes I think I need to be where I am,  and I become confused because it is a seemingly good choice. After all, I am doing God’s work. I am doing His ministry. However, when I see myself becoming so busy that I don’t even have time for my daily devotions, I question whether it is truly where God wants me to be.  I learned a long time ago the word “busy” is simply an acronym for “being under Satan’s yoke.” I don’t want to be under his yoke because God’s yoke is easy and His burden is light.

            I also have to question whether God purposed me to be in this assignment for a season, so he could build character in me and teach me His ways, especially since I am such a wandering carefree spirit.  James 1: 2-4 holds valuable truths about obtaining character:

            Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters whenever you face trials of many kinds because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.

            I haven’t been counting it joy lately, and neither has my husband. He is watching me weather the storm with very little strength left to run the race with perseverance. He has seen the tears. He has seen the striving. He is concerned, but he, like me, knows it is only for a season.

            When it comes to what I  want to do, as long as it is in line with God’s Word, I know in due season, he will grant me the desires of my heart. Psalm 37: 4 says, “Delight yourself in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart.” God knows my heart’s desire. He knows me so well. I will take delight in this season of trials, turmoil, and chaos knowing that God is helping me run the race. Dayton Reynolds, my pastor many  years ago, said, “The will of God won’t lead you where the grace of God can’t keep you.” I know God led to this valley for a season, and He will sustain me through the journey. Psalms 46: 1 says, “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.” In the Midwest, during tornado season, many people move to storm shelters until the tornado passes. My storm shelter is sitting on the lap of God and listening to his heartbeat. As I listen and rest in Him, my heart begins to beat in perfect synchronicity with His. It is what I want right now. If you are going through a season like mine, pray this prayer with me:

            Father, thank you for this seasonal storm because I know it is building character within   me. Help me to persevere, but at the same time help me to rest in your loving arms    knowing the battle is not mine, but yours. It may rage, but you are my refuge and strength. I hold fast to your word of truth, and I cling to the promises you have given me.You will grant me the desires of my heart in due season. 

A Heart of Thankfulness

Do you have weeds in your garden? I know I do. I live near the Genesee River where the ground is moist, the perfect condition for Stinging Nettle. I am not sure if they choke the life out of my flowers, but I do know from experience that removing them is sometimes hazardous. Similar to hypodermic needles, Stinging Nettle has fine hairs on their leaves and stems. When they touch the skin, they release chemicals like acid, which, in most cases, causes a burning and itching rash lasting for days.

Metaphorically speaking I often have weeds in my life that choke the good things from growing and removing them is often painful. Yesterday, a visiting pastor from Elim Bible Institute, told us about how the weeds come into being and, believe me, it made sense. The devil discreetly whispers questions to us; and when he does, the seed is planted if we think about what he says, mull it over for a while, and eventually think it is true. It takes root in our soul, and it chokes out the one thing we need in our lives: thankfulness to God for his mercy, his love, his provisions, and his salvation. One of the weeds the pastor mentioned was worrying. This is the seed of the stinging nettle, which often takes root in my life.

I am a worrywart, born and raised to be one. My grandmother worried herself to a weak heart, and my mother has had cause to worry most of her life and has done it well. My heart is often wracked with worry. I take it to God in prayer. However, when my prayers seem to go unanswered, I hear the whispers of the devil saying, “He doesn’t answer. He doesn’t care about your needs. Why should you bother praying when your prayers are really just hitting the ceiling?” When I begin to think God isn’t listening to me, the whispered lies of the devil plants seeds of doubt and they begin to take root.

The pastor mentioned the story of Jesus on the boat with his disciples, and when a gale force wind caused the waves to fiercely crash against the vessel, the disciples freaked out while Jesus slept on a cushion. It isn’t much different from my own life. When life’s struggles become like crashing waves against the security of my boat, my world, the seeds of doubt are often planted. I wonder if God is somewhere else, asleep, not listening to my needs. I question why he isn’t doing anything. My children are my greatest worry, and I often question why they are still going through so many struggles?

I Peter 5:7 says, “Cast all of your cares on Him because He cares for you.” When I allow the devil to whisper in my ear, “God, doesn’t care about you. Nothing is happening,” I begin planting the seeds of doubt. I cannot question his care in the midst of my storm. I have to have confidence in the one TRUE fact: HE CARES FOR ME. There have been times when I have believed with all my heart that he cares, and I have stepped out of the boat in faith knowing he would answer my prayers, but when the devil whispered in my ear, the seed of doubt planted; and I began to sink, sink, and sink further into my despair and worry.

Yesterday, I learned a valuable tool for pulling the weeds of doubt from my life. BE THANKFUL!!!! It sounds easy doesn’t it? It really isn’t because sometimes the Stinging Nettle brushes against our skin releasing its poison. BUT we must persevere. We must put on the gloves of the Holy Spirit, and pull those weeds of worry and doubt from our life. Something remarkable happens too. The darkness breaks, and God illuminates His truth to all the seeds the devil has planted making you needlessly worry.  The pastor said yesterday how thankfulness is like an antibiotic. I thought about what he said and it makes sense. Thankfulness heals the Stinging Nettle of doubt and worry in my life.

After the sermon yesterday, I started thanking God for the positive in each of the situations I have been worried about when it comes to my children. I felt a release. By thanking God, I began the process of cleaning out my spiritual garden. I don’t know about you, but I want the garden of my life to be beautiful. I don’t want Stinging Nettles being the only plant people see in my garden. I don’t want to make it so no one wants to come near me for fear of being stung by the nettles of my worry and doubt. I want my thankfulness to God for his mercy, his love, and his salvation to be what others see.

So be thankful today. Lift your eyes and give thanks to God in the midst of your storms. Meditate on this verse today:

“It is good to give thanks to the Lord. And to sing praises to Your name, O Most High; To declare Your lovingkindness in the morning and your faithfulness by night” (Psalm 92: 1-2).

I wake up at 5:00 A.M. to write before I head off to teach at MCC. The morning I wrote this blog, I didn’t have time to post it, and it didn’t matter because I like it to sit and marinate before I do. Later that evening and the following morning, I understood the magnitude of why thankfulness is important to our relationship with God and our mental wellbeing. A colleague sent me a message putting me into a meltdown of fear, anxiety, and worry. They may seem like synonyms for the same state of being, but they are very different in my life. My fear is the heart palpitating feeling of dread; my anxiety stems from my generalized anxiety disorder – it hits my mind like a wave of panic and I feel like I am losing it;  my worry is the nail-biting, pace the floor, I don’t know what I should do feeling. The devil whispered in my ear that night. I listened. I threw myself into an absolute tizzy, lasting for hours. I went to bed spent and basically had thrown in the towel. I believed I didn’t hear the voice of God in my recent decisions. I had missed the mark, screwed up, and made a monumental mistake. One whisper planted the seed of doubt and fear in my life. One whisper may have thrown my life off course. One whisper.

I prayed I would have clarity as I drifted off to what I thought would be a fitful sleep. I swear I slept cradled in the arms of God that night. In the morning, when my feet hit the floor, I began to thank God. I thanked him for giving me the gift of teaching. I thanked him for the choices I had made and how I knew they would stretch me beyond my imagination. I thanked God His mercies are new every morning. Thanking God set me free from all my doubts and worries. Thanking God helped me to see the whispered lies of the enemy and, quite honestly, how he built his deception to be more of an issue than it really was because he knew if I listened the Stinging Nettle would grow in my garden and choke out the significant opportunities he has instore for me, so I am thankful today for the lessons I learned this week. I am thankful I had an opportunity to put them into practice.

If the devil whispers in your ear and plants seeds of doubt and worry, or worse yet, Stinging Nettle, think of the good within the situation. Ask God to give you new eyes. Even before He shows you the truth, begin to thank Him. I promise you it will make a monumental difference both spiritually and emotionally. 

Still My Soul Be Still

In the wake of the ISIS attacks in Paris on Friday and the double-suicide bombing in Lebanon, I need to tell my soul to be still. The winds of change are raging in a world where there is no love of God, no moral compass, and no regard for humanity. Believing God is at my side is what I cling to; otherwise, I would fear the coming persecution.

The chorus: “God You are my God, and I will trust in you and not be shaken” is hard for me. I will not lie. I am shaken to the core of my being, my soul. My husband and I are supposed to fly to Puerto Rico in February to take a cruise through the Caribbean. I don’t want to go. My thoughts race to the Russian plane brought down by ISIS, and I question whether it is safe to fly. A cruise ship is manned by people from many nations.  Do I trust they won’t bring a bomb on the ship? Yes, paranoia has set in. My daughter tells me when I refuse to do what I love out of fear, ISIS wins. That’s why I have to make the declaration: “Lord of peace renew a steadfast spirit within me to rest in YOU alone.”

Psalm 62:5 says, “My soul waits in silence for God only, for my hope is from Him.” Silence is the hard part. Sometimes when the world rages against us, in our frenzy me make it an “Act of War.” Silence is a posture. It says, “I trust in you God to be my salvation, to be my defender, and to be my ONLY hope.” Silence is when we should be on our knees, humbly asking God for mercy.

Psalm 46:10 says, “Be still and know that I am God. I will be exalted among the nations. I will be exalted in the earth.” We have to take confidence in this truth. I admit it is hard when we hear of Christians being persecuted and beheaded by ISIS. God knew what we would face in the latter days. He provided a deep truth to us in this scripture. ”BE STILL and KNOW THAT I AM GOD.” Remember how I said it was a posture? II Chronicles 20:17 says, “You will not need to fight in this battle. Stand firm, hold your position, and see the salvation of the Lord on your behalf…” So the battle is not ours. It is God’s. We just need to be still, stand firm, and hold our position. We will see the salvation of God. He will be exalted in the nations.

Our hope should be in God because the day is dimming. But the light of God shines brighter than ever. The light is in us. We need to extend it to those who are fearful. Thousands of refugees are fleeing the turmoil in their countries. After what just happened in Paris, they, too, will face persecution. Let’s not fall prey to fear. What would Jesus do? He would want us to love them, embrace them, and protect them. I understand your fear. My mind says, “Close the borders. Don’t let them in. They are dangerous.” But my heart says, “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim liberty to the captives and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty those who are oppressed” (Luke 4:18).


Today, tell your soul to be still. Take a posture of silence. See God work in the midst of chaos. BE STILL and KNOW HE IS GOD!!!!

Chasing Aggressive Love

The evidence of man’s inhumanity to man grieves my heart, my soul, and my mind. David Andreatta, a columnist with the Democrat & Chronicle, quoted Edward Watson’s statement to Mayor Lovely Warren after the tragedy at the Boys and Girls Club on Genesee Street. He stated,” Blacks are murdering blacks every 32 hours.” Gun violence in our city is out of control. I can’t even turn on the news without hearing about shootings in the City of Rochester. Does someone have to open fire every night?

Don’t even get me started on Russian planes exploding in the sky because of ISIS bombs or Christians crucified and beheaded in Middle Eastern countries. Yesterday, four students were stabbed at the University of California. Not long ago, gun violence hit a community college in Oregon. I watched a music video last night because the title caught my attention. It was “Take Me to Church” by Hozier. The longer I watched, the sicker my heart became. No. I wanted to throw up. By the time the video was finished, I felt like someone punched me in the stomach, mainly because I knew it was based on a harsh reality. Gay men in Russia are killed by men dressed in hoodies very similar to the Ku Klux Klan in their white robes who killed black men out of their hatred. Where is the humanity?

Movie theatres, college campuses, elementary schools, malls, the Twin Towers – What is next?

Now I must speak from the heart. On Halloween night, my granddaughter attended a house party in Henrietta; fortunately, she now realizes it was not the place to be. A fight ensued, and my granddaughter was thrown against the wall when she tried to help her friend. The police broke up the party after a 911 call came in that shots were fired on the premises. My heart sank. No, my knees hit the floor. When it hits a little closer to home, you take notice.

I recently had a student in my ENG 101 class who stated that he didn’t care about the gun violence in the city because it didn’t affect him. He lived in the suburbs. I wondered if he thought the suburbs had a moat and fortified walls to protect him. I looked at him and said, “No one is immune.” Unfortunately, man’s inhumanity to man is growing more violent every day.  There are so many reasons for gun violence; in fact, there are too many to even begin to mention on this blog post. No one is immune to the spiritual condition of the fallen man.

What I have come to understand is humanity’s last breath is one of hatred versus love. I know this post sounds like it came from Debbie Downer or Negative Nancy, but hopefully Encouraging Eva will take you on a journey toward making the difference by creating a proposal toward a climate of change.

My prayer this morning was “Father, teach me to love as you have loved. Let my fear and hatred melt away. Give me the grace to accept the things I cannot change, but show me the ways I can extend my love. Teach me Lord for my ways are not your ways.” He answered me immediately in His Word. Today, my devotions came from Philippians 1. I didn’t look for the answer. Philippians just happened to be the next chapter in my morning devotions.

Philippians 1:9 says, “And this I pray, that your LOVE may abound still more and more in real knowledge and all discernment.” I need to aggressively chase after the Love of God, but I also need to aggressively love others. It doesn’t mean I need to be a Bible Thumper and forcefully shove the gospel down people’s throats. No, I need to demonstrate my love through action.

Yesterday, I taught visual rhetoric. One slide on the Power Point presentation showed a little boy with a hand around his throat and tears running down his face. It wasn’t necessarily depicting physical abuse but verbal abuse. On the arm and hand were hurtful words for any child to hear, words like “moron,” “idiot,” and “fool.” After class, a young man came up to me and told me how difficult it was to sit through the presentation, especially when he saw that picture. He shared with me about the verbal abuse he endured from his father, and I could see the tears welling up in his eyes. I gave him a hug. I gave him some counsel about what he could do. My students know I am a Christian. I openly admit it. I am not ashamed to tell them I will pray for them. It is the very reason they come to me when they have a problem.

If God can lavish his love on us, we should be willing to lavish HIS love on those we come in contact with. Who is in your circle of influence? Do you show God’s love by walking a mile in their shoes? Do you empathize with them when they are going through a hard time? Do you offer to pray for them?

I Thessalonians 3:12 says, “…and may the Lord cause you to increase and abound in love for one another, and for all people…”

I cannot pick and choose who I am going to love. I need to love the person who shoved my granddaughter into a wall. I need to love the people who have hurt me with their words and actions. I need to love the unlovable. I believe we are coming into a horrific time in our world. Christians may need to stand up to the atrocities against the church. In standing, we will be marked. Do I love the persecutor? Yes. It is my calling. “Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you” (Matthew 5:44). Love is not an option. It is a command.

I challenge you today to aggressively chase the love of Go, which is already readily available to you. Next, aggressively love not only the people of God within your church circles, but love the people outside the body of Christ. Love them into the kingdom. Love aggressively!