Insight For Living~ Charles R Swindoll

May 3, 2012
Graciously Receiving and Giving
by Charles R. Swindoll

John 13:8

Being a super high-achiever, I must confess I find it difficult to receive from others. Really difficult. I’m usually on the giving end, not the receiving. My pride fights hard to stay intact when receiving generosity.

This was brought home to me rather forcefully one Christmas season several years ago. A man in our church congregation drove over to our home with his Christmas gift to our family. Not something wrapped up in bright paper with a big ribbon, but a thoughtful gift of love demonstrated by his washing all the windows of our home. I was studying that Saturday morning at my office at the church as my wife and our children welcomed him in. He quietly began doing the job. I drove up later that morning and immediately noticed his car out front. I wondered if there was perhaps some need (there I was again, thinking like I usually do).

The kids met me at the door with the news that Phil (not his real name) was there and was washing our windows. My immediate response, of course, was surprise. I knew he was a busy husband and father with many more things to do than clean my windows. I went to the patio and saw his smiling face. "Phil what's going on?" I asked, "Man, I can't believe this."

Still smiling, he responded, "Chuck, I just wanted to do this for you and your family. Merry Christmas!"

"Hey, Phil, (I'm now a little embarrassed) what do you say you just finish up the patio doors, and we'll get the rest, okay?"

"Nope. I'd like to go all the way around."

"Gee, thanks, man . . . but you've got lots of other things more important to do. Tell you what, you get all the downstairs, and the kids and I will get the upstairs."

"No, I'd really like to get up there too."

"Well, uh---why don't you get the outside all the way around, and we'll get the inside?"

Phil paused, looked directly at me, and said, "Chuck! I want to wash all the windows, upstairs and downstairs, inside and outside, every one of them. You are always giving. For a change, I'd like you to receive."

Suddenly, I realized what a battle I have with graciously receiving others' gifts. I understand Peter's reluctance to let Jesus wash his feet. Servanthood was hard for Peter, especially when it called for receiving from someone else. Are we really any different?
Adapted from Charles R. Swindoll, Improving Your Serve: The Art of Unselfish Living (Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 1981), 166--67. Copyright © 1981 by Charles R. Swindoll, Inc. All rights reserved worldwide. Used by permission.

May 2, 2012
Being a Servant Is Unannounced
by Charles R. Swindoll

John 13:6--11

As Jesus prepared to wash His disciples' feet, He never said, "Men, I am now going to demonstrate servanthood---watch my humility."

No way.

That kind of obvious pride was the trademark of the Pharisees. If you wondered whether they were humble, all you had to do was hang around them awhile. Sooner or later they would announce it . . . which explains why Jesus came down so hard on them (just look at Matthew 23!).

Unlike those pious frauds, the Messiah slipped away from the table, quietly pulled off His outer tunic, and with towel, pitcher, and pan in hand, He moved quietly from man to man. Now understand, please, that they weren't sitting as they are portrayed in Leonardo da Vinci's work The Last Supper. All due respect for that genius, but he missed it when he portrayed the biblical scene through Renaissance eyes. They were not sitting in ladder-back, dining-room chairs all on one side of a long table!

In those days, people reclined at a meal, actually leaning on one elbow as they lay on their side on a small, thin pad or on a larger rug covering the floor. The table was a low, rectangular block of wood upon which the food was placed. And they ate with their hands, not utensils. This position meant that if your feet were not clean, your neighbor was very much aware of it. It would be hard to ignore a face full of dirty feet.

As Jesus reached Peter, I am sure most of the small talk had dwindled. By now, the men realized their wrong. Guilt had begun to push its way into their hearts. Peter must have drawn his feet up close to him when he said, in effect, "No! Not my feet. Never, ever, ever will you wash my feet, from now 'til eternity!" This reveals a second observation about having a gentle and humble heart: being a servant includes receiving graciously as well as giving graciously.

Peter wasn't about to be that vulnerable. After all, Jesus was the Master. No way was He going to wash the dirt off Peter's feet! I ask you, is that humility? You know it's not.

Being willing to receive sometimes takes more grace than giving to others. And our reluctance to do so really exposes our pride, doesn't it?
Adapted from Charles R. Swindoll, Improving Your Serve: The Art of Unselfish Living (Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 1981), 163--64. Copyright © 1981 by Charles R. Swindoll, Inc. All rights reserved worldwide. Used by permission.

May 1, 2012
Proud Hearts and Dirty Feet
by Charles R. Swindoll

John 13:3--11

The gentle and humble lifestyle of the Savior is nowhere more evident than in the account of John 13, where He washed the feet of His friends, the disciples. In that event, He left us some timeless principles we dare not ignore regarding serving God.

The scene is first-century Jerusalem. Paved roads were few. In fact, within most cities they were unheard of. The roads and alleys in Jerusalem were more like winding dirt trails, all covered with a thick layer of dust. When the rains came, those paths were liquid slush, several inches of thick mud. It was the custom, therefore, for the host to provide a slave at the door of his home to wash the feet of the dinner guests as they arrived. The servant knelt with a pitcher of water, a pan, and a towel and washed the dirt or mud off the feet as each guest prepared to enter the home. Shoes, boots, and sandals were left at the door, a custom still prevalent in the Far East.

If a home could not afford a slave, one of the early arriving guests would graciously take upon himself the role of the house servant and wash the feet of those who came. What is interesting is that none of the disciples had volunteered for that lowly task . . . so the room was filled with proud hearts and dirty feet. Interestingly, those disciples were willing to fight for a throne but not a towel. Things haven't changed a lot since then, by the way.

Read rather carefully the account of what transpired:

Jesus . . . got up from supper . . . and taking a towel, He girded Himself. Then He poured water into the basin, and began to wash the disciples' feet and to wipe them with the towel with which He was girded. So He came to Simon Peter. He said to Him, "Lord, do You wash my feet?" Jesus answered and said to him, "What I do you do not realize now, but you will understand hereafter." Peter said to Him, "Never shall You wash my feet!" Jesus answered him, "If I do not wash you, you have no part with Me." Simon Peter said to Him, "Lord, then wash not only my feet, but also my hands and my head." Jesus said to him, "He who has bathed needs only to wash his feet, but is completely clean; and you are clean, but not all of you." For He knew the one who was betraying Him; for this reason He said, "Not all of you are clean." (John 13:3--11)

Meditate on the scene John describes for us. Tomorrow, I'll share some observations about the example Jesus set for us in serving others.

Adapted from Charles R. Swindoll, Improving Your Serve: The Art of Unselfish Living (Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 1981), 162--63. Copyright © 1981 by Charles R. Swindoll, Inc. All rights reserved worldwide. Used by permission.

April 30, 2012
A Self-Description of Jesus
by Charles R. Swindoll

Matthew 11:28--29; John 8:28--29

I've been involved in a serious study of Scripture for more than fifty years of my life, and in all that time I have found only one place where Jesus Christ---in His own words---describes His own "inner man." In doing so, He uses only two words. Unlike most celebrities, those words are not phenomenal and great. Jesus doesn't even mention that He was sought after as a speaker.

Although it is true, He doesn't say: "I am wise and powerful," or "I am holy and eternal," or "I am all-knowing and absolute deity." Do you remember what He says? Hold on, it may surprise you.

"Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls." (Matthew 11:28--29)

I am gentle. I am humble. These are servant terms. Gentle means "strength under control." It is used of a wild stallion that has been tamed. Humble in heart means "lowly"---the word picture of a helper. Unselfishness and thoughtfulness are in the description. It doesn't mean weak and insignificant, however.

Frankly, I find it extremely significant that when Jesus lifts the veil of silence and once for all gives us a glimpse of Himself, the real stuff of His inner person, He uses gentle and humble. When we read that God the Father is committed to forming us to the image of His Son, qualities such as these are what He wants to see emerge. We are never more like Christ than when we fit into His description of Himself.

And how do those things reveal themselves? In what way do we reveal them the best? In our obedience. Servanthood and obedience go together like Siamese twins. And the finest illustration of this is the Son Himself who openly confesses, "I do nothing on My own initiative. . . . I always do the things that are pleasing to Him" (John 8:28, 29).

In other words, Jesus's self-description is verified by His obedience. Like no one else who has ever lived, He practices what He preaches.

Adapted from Charles R. Swindoll, Improving Your Serve: The Art of Unselfish Living (Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 1981), 160--62. Copyright © 1981 by Charles R. Swindoll, Inc. All rights reserved worldwide. Used by permission.

April 28, 2012
Rationalizations
by Charles R. Swindoll

Read 1 Samuel 15:1--35

Even though I have known people like this, still, I cannot fathom Saul's perspective. How can anyone be so clueless? He disobeyed the Lord's direct command by keeping not just a few things under the ban, but keeping everything having any value. On top of having no sense, Saul had no shame. Instead of being humiliated by his own guilt, he erected a monument to himself to commemorate the day. At least Achan had the good sense to be ashamed of his sin. Not Saul! Somehow he managed to twist events and rearrange facts to portray himself as God's champion.

Samuel's response is priceless: "What then is this bleating of the sheep in my ears, and the lowing of the oxen which I hear?" (1 Samuel 15:14). Amazing how simple facts can so easily prick a deceiving heart.

I see two timeless principles at work in the story of Saul that deserve our attention.

First, how you finish is far more important than how you start. No one graduates from college thinking, Okay, now how can I fail? No bride or groom tells the wedding guests, "Enjoy the party; this thing won't last more than a couple of years." Only when a woman or man finishes well can we call that life a success. A good beginning does nothing to guarantee a good ending. Happy endings are the result of good choices and consistent discipline put in sequence over a lifetime and faithfully maintained.

Second, rationalization is disobedience because it refuses to accept the truth. I've heard it said that the most destructive lie is the one you tell yourself. Rationalizing is an insidious form of self-delusion. It starts small---usually with something innocent---and quietly twists the mind to spin the truth in convenient ways. In the end, the self-deluded mind rationalizes everything so conveniently, so automatically, that the person has no concept of how preposterous his or her thinking and behavior have become. And---never forget this---no one is immune.

Excerpted from Charles R. Swindoll, Great Days with the Great Lives (Nashville: W Publishing Group, 2005). Copyright © 2005 by Charles R. Swindoll, Inc. All rights reserved. Used by permission.

April 27, 2012
Saul's Disobedience
by Charles R. Swindoll

Read 1 Samuel 13:1--15

Saul's disobedient actions involved at least three major errors.

First, kings weren't supposed to offer sacrifices on behalf of the community. Kings could offer sacrifices for themselves, but never for the nation. That was done only by priests.

Second, it was Samuel who was to convey the Lord's battle plans. Saul was to wait for him. However, since Saul kept his eye on the sundial and his dwindling army, he gave in to panic and rushed ahead on his own. This reduced the sacrifice to a pointless ritual that looked more pagan than Hebrew. Gentile generals decided where, when, and whom to attack, mobilized their troops, then sacrificed to their gods to gain favor. The Hebrew sacrifice was different; it was to be an act of submission, not bribery.

Third, and most important to our study, Saul made the decision to trust himself at the crisis point. His decision to sacrifice and attack was based on good common sense (from an earthly perspective). Just like Israel's desire to have a human king and their ready acceptance of Saul based on his outward appearance, the new king was ready to advance on the enemy with a human strategy. Probably a good one, but human, nonetheless.

Saul's faith failed. He saw his army evaporating like water and the town of Michmash teeming with his enemy. He saw that the appointed seven days had passed and that Samuel was late. So he tossed aside any pretense of decorum and protocol. He, in effect, put on the priestly garb along with his crown and signet and tried to make the altar his own special instrument of power---something he had no right to do.

Confrontation is rarely pleasant but frequently necessary. We all need a Samuel, someone who cares more about our character than our image or comfort. Often, that kind of loving honesty calls for sharp words. "You have played the fool" is never easy to hear, but when it comes from the mouth of a trusted, godly friend, we must hear it and take heed.

Excerpted from Charles R. Swindoll, Great Days with the Great Lives (Nashville: W Publishing Group, 2005). Copyright © 2005 by Charles R. Swindoll, Inc. All rights reserved. Used by permission.

April 26, 2012
Sad Day
by Charles R. Swindoll
Read 1 Samuel 10:1--11:15

When the people located their new king, they celebrated. And why not? This was a glorious day. Saul was tall, strong, modest, and had the full support of his nation. From a human point of view, this was a beautiful start to a new era.

But from God's point of view, this was a sad day. His people had rejected Him as king, replacing Him with someone as impressive as a handsome film star. Unlike all those cheering people, God knew that this was not the beginning of Israel's glory days. A disaster would soon begin to happen.

Almost overnight Saul's popularity index was off the chart. He had demonstrated himself to be a brave and capable warrior, an able general, and a strong leader. When the Ammonites attacked, he acted decisively and firmly, and he did so with honor. This won the confidence of the people and earned him a great endorsement speech by Samuel. But don't forget that this story is a tragedy. This is a roofline life, and Saul has reached his peak.

Following his burst of glory, Saul's life began to unravel. He became a victim of himself: full of pride, impatience, rebellion, jealousy, and attempted murder. Over a long and painful stretch of years, he shriveled into a twisted, maniacal, pathetic figure. Eventually, he would commit suicide. Evil had begun to pour into his life like sewage flowing into a harbor, deep beneath the surface, under cover of night. No one could see it. In fact, for a long time, no one could even smell it, but slowly and ever so surely it polluted the waters of his mind and soiled his soul.

One of the chief qualities I look for in a prospective staff member or employee is modesty. I want a confident man or woman, but one who finds the job a little daunting. That tells me that he or she has a healthy view of the role we're looking to fill. It is daunting! A modest person will be more likely to rely upon the Lord to succeed and will be much less likely to fail. I am always leery of people who seek the limelight.

Excerpted from Charles R. Swindoll, Great Days with the Great Lives (Nashville: W Publishing Group, 2005). Copyright © 2005 by Charles R. Swindoll, Inc. All rights reserved. Used by permission.


April 25, 2012


"We Want to Be Like Everyone Else"
by Charles R. Swindoll

Read 1 Samuel 8:1--9:27

From the time that Joshua died until Saul took the throne of Israel, the Hebrew government was not a monarchy like most surrounding nations. Theologians refer to it as a theocracy---"God-rule." The Lord ruled over Israel, issuing His decrees and governing through prophets and priests. Each major region looked to a judge for what most other cultures would expect from a king. He (occasionally, she) led the people in battle, decided civil cases, and enforced God's laws.

Samuel judged all Israel with God reigning as king over the Hebrew people. In this way, the Israelites were like no other nation on earth in that they could claim God as their leader, the invisible Creator, the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, the Almighty One who crushed Egypt, parted the Red Sea, and conquered Canaan. But, much in the same way that the wandering generation tired of manna, the people grew tired of the theocracy. Three factors drove their desire for a king.

First, Samuel was old and no longer able to keep pace with the demands of the nation. Second, his sons had disqualified themselves by losing the respect of the people. And third, "we want to be like all the nations."

Before we move on, let's not bypass an important point of interest. On previous pages we observed the failure of Eli to guide his sons. Now we see little evidence to suggest that Samuel did any better. Scripture doesn't offer as detailed information about his parenting, but the remarkable similarity between Samuel's sons and those of Eli leaves us with little else to conclude. Eli was a great priest and a faithful judge, but a lousy father. Samuel, sadly, followed in his footsteps. His sons became unfit as leaders like those of Eli.

This was a pivotal moment in the life of Israel. Take special note of the Lord's assessment of their decision. "They have not rejected you, but they have rejected Me from being king over them [8:7]."

In effect, the Lord said, "You are determined to go down this path---one that will certainly cause you sorrow---and I will not stop you. You have rejected My way for your own. Therefore, you will lie in the bed you have made."

Excerpted from Charles R. Swindoll, Great Days with the Great Lives (Nashville: W Publishing Group, 2005). Copyright © 2005 by Charles R. Swindoll, Inc. All rights reserved. Used by permission.

April 24, 2012
Get Involved
by Charles R. Swindoll

Read 1 Samuel 3:19--21

Disintegrating families fail to respond quickly and thoroughly to the warnings of others. Listen to their teachers. They may seem biased against your child, but they rarely are. Take the early warnings seriously, and get involved soon. Listen to your pastor or your youth leader. Listen to the uniformed officer with a badge who rings your doorbell.

Don't be so quick to jump to your child's defense. Take time to hear the report in full. Ask direct, hard questions to be sure you have the whole picture. Then take time to reflect on what you have heard. If it resonates, causing you to think that it might be accurate, then dig deeper and go to whatever measure is necessary to make certain you have it resolved.

Disintegrating families rationalize wrong behavior, and thereby become part of the problem. Eli participated in his sons' behavior. We know this because Eli got fat on the food his boys had stolen from the altar.

As for Samuel, the boy who heard God's voice, the closing words of this episode tell us that the sleepy, spiritual indifference that had lulled Israel into complacency was about to come to a screeching halt. A man of action was on the scene, and Israel's spiritual drift was about to end. Even as a little boy, he not only heard the Lord, but he obeyed His voice.

As you ponder all of this, especially as you evaluate the condition of your family, remember that hearing the truth isn't enough. Action is the ticket. Only on the rarest occasions does the Lord bless someone for merely listening to Him. Faith is an action. That means His blessings almost always lie on the other side of obedience. According to Scripture, knowledge alone merely puffs up, but with action comes humility (1 Corinthians 8:1). Besides, problems like those of Eli do not solve themselves. They multiply and intensify with the slow and silent passing of time.

If you have reached the conclusion that your family is in danger, choose to do something rather than nothing. Refuse to be like Eli. In the end, after achieving public success in ministry, God considered Eli a failure at home . . . and judged him for it.

Don't go there.
Excerpted from Charles R. Swindoll, Great Days with the Great Lives (Nashville: W Publishing Group, 2005). Copyright © 2005 by Charles R. Swindoll, Inc. All rights reserved. Used by permission.

April 23, 2012
Disintegrating Families
by Charles R. Swindoll

Read 1 Samuel 3:1--18

The temptation of any child of vocational Christian ministers is to see the work of the ministry as just another thing, just another religious occupation. Breaking through the wall of "public religion" must be the intense responsibility of the parent-minister if his or her children are to understand that this isn't a business, a slick profession, or an entertainment arena where Mommy or Daddy puts on a performance.

The key word is authenticity. Not perfection, for no one gets it right all the time. But being real. Admit your faults, own them completely, ask for forgiveness, be quick to give it, allow children plenty of room to fail, and let them see you live your life behind the scenes with love, grace, and humor. All of that takes time and effort, both of which will cost you productivity on the job. Consider it a priceless sacrifice . . . a permanent investment.

Disintegrating families have parents who refuse to face the severity of their children's actions. Eli knew how horrible his sons had become, yet did nothing! I've seen parents in such denial that they cannot bring themselves to admit that their child has a serious problem with drugs or pornography or sexual promiscuity or stealing---behavior that any other normal person would consider a red flag. Yet they act as though the crisis will resolve itself if given a little patience. Wrong.

If you have children who are young, you have children who are impressionable. That's the time to make your most important investment in them. To wait until they're as tall as you, you will have already allowed them to sow seeds of self-destruction.

If your children are nearly adults, take responsibility for your part in their poor choices, then do whatever is necessary to save them. Because you've waited so long, there are few options that don't have grave consequences in the short term. So consider the long term, and do what you must. It is never too late to start doing what is right.

Excerpted from Charles R. Swindoll, Great Days with the Great Lives (Nashville: W Publishing Group, 2005). Copyright © 2005 by Charles R. Swindoll, Inc. All rights reserved. Used by permission.

April 21, 2012
The Voice of God
by Charles R. Swindoll

Read 1 Samuel 2:1--3:18

Eli and Samuel were probably taking their turn sleeping in the tabernacle to keep the lamp lit. They slept in little rooms or closets near that special area of God's presence. It was when Samuel heard a voice call his name that he sat up in his little pallet and called back, "Yes?" No one answered.

You can't always tell from Scripture whether God's voice is audible or "heard" by some other means. When Saul (later Paul) was on the road to Damascus, he heard the voice of the resurrected Jesus talking to him in a vision, and the sound could be heard by his entourage. It was audible. In Genesis 6, God spoke to Noah and gave him specific instructions. We might assume that the voice was audible---that is, he heard spoken words with his ears---but the Lord may have "spoken" to him mind to mind. We don't know for sure. God's voice to Daniel sounded like thunder, but centuries earlier to Elijah, He spoke with "a noiseless sound." In Samuel's case, God spoke in such a way that Samuel literally heard His voice. He spoke with the voice of a normal Hebrew man so that the boy thought it was Eli calling to him from the other room.

Eli probably thought Samuel had been dreaming, so he sent him back to bed.

The LORD called yet again, "Samuel!" So Samuel arose and went to Eli and said, "Here I am, for you called me." But he answered, "I did not call, my son, lie down again." Now Samuel did not yet know the LORD , nor had the word of the LORD yet been revealed to him. (1 Samuel 3:6--7)

The last sentence represents the storyteller's clarifying comment to the reader, who already knew of Samuel as a powerful prophet of God. It's the author's way of saying that this occurred before the Lord had initiated a personal relationship with the boy. Keep this in mind, as it will become an important part of the story as it unfolds. By the way, in the Old Testament, having a personal relationship with the Lord in the way we have come to know it by the new covenant and the indwelling Holy Spirit was a rare and truly awesome privilege. I think we take this privilege far too lightly!

Excerpted from Charles R. Swindoll, Great Days with the Great Lives (Nashville: W Publishing Group, 2005). Copyright © 2005 by Charles R. Swindoll, Inc. All rights reserved. Used by permission.

April 20, 2012
Israel's Dark Setting
by Charles R. Swindoll

Read Judges 21:25; 1 Samuel 1:1--28

The setting is Israel before the glory days of King David. There has been a long period---a couple hundred years---of intermittent warfare, cycles of events during which Israel would suffer invasion followed by famine; then a judge would emerge and win a temporary peace. During the peace, the people would sin, and the down-spiraling cycle would kick in again. Another invasion followed by defeat, resulting in yet another famine, growing more severe each time. This story takes place during a lull in the violence, a restful season of relative peace. Days were unusually quiet and uneventful.

The people of Israel have settled back into a lax lifestyle that could be described as downright complacent. Their attitude toward God and His vision for them as a nation has become indifferent, a little ho-hum and boring. Their leader, the high priest, is Eli, an old man whose eyesight has begun to grow dim. Unless something changes, he will turn the reins of leadership over to his two rebellious sons, Hophni and Phinehas, who helped him minister in the tabernacle, which was the place of worship during this period of Israel's history.

There's more to the setting, so bear with me. A few years earlier, a woman named Hannah was a regular visitor to the temple. She spent most of her time in prayer, begging God for the gift of a son. She vowed to the Lord that if He would grant her request, she would give the boy back to Him. The Lord finally gave her a son, whom she named Samuel. Appropriately, the name means "asked of God." Soon after he was weaned, she fulfilled her promise and placed Samuel in the care of Eli, the aging, almost blind, high priest of Israel. Eli was responsible for Samuel's welfare and education. He was tutoring him in spiritual things, preparing him for a lifetime of service to God.

The whole land of Israel, stuck in a political and spiritual "slick," was half-asleep, yawning its way from one day to the next. God is silent. Everyone's passive. No one has visions, except maybe a few charlatans. Sounds a little like today, doesn't it?

Excerpted from Charles R. Swindoll, Great Days with the Great Lives (Nashville: W Publishing Group, 2005). Copyright © 2005 by Charles R. Swindoll, Inc. All rights reserved. Used by permission.

April 19, 2012
Faith Reveals God
by Charles R. Swindoll

Read Genesis 22:1--14

In this fascinating story of faith and sacrifice and trust and surrender, I see the characteristics of a God who asked nothing of Abraham that He didn't demand of Himself. Because it is so significant, I cannot resist sharing with you three powerful truths about our God that I see illustrated here.

God the Father showed us how to live when He released His dear Son to us. Nine months before that wondrous night in Bethlehem, the Father sent His Son. Christ willingly left His seat of absolute power in heaven, set aside the voluntary use of His divine authority, and became a helpless infant. As a human, subject to all the pains and sorrows and limitations that affect us all, He would mature, learn, minister, suffer . . . and die. If the Father was willing to release His own Son to us, what could be so much more precious to us that we would withhold it from Him?

God the Son showed us how to die when He released Himself to the Father. Isaac's quiet obedience to his father illustrates this beautifully. He gave himself over to the will of his father and allowed himself to be placed on an altar without a fight. That's exactly what the Son of God did at Calvary. When our faith is mature, we'll not fear death.

God the Spirit will show us how to live and die as we learn how to release whatever has us in its grip. (That last phrase wasn't a mistake.) As long as we're owned by whatever we're clutching, we'll never be given over completely to the Holy Spirit. This would be an excellent moment for you to do some self-analysis. To what, to whom are you clinging? Let it go. Let them go.

The Lord may be in the process of taking it from you. He'll gently tug on it at first, giving you the opportunity to release your grip. If you resist, He'll eventually have to pry your fingers away, and I can assure you that it will hurt. My advice? Voluntarily release it. Trust the Lord to provide. He has another ram in the thicket. You can't see it right now, but He has it waiting. Only after you have placed your sacrifice on the altar will you be ready to receive God's provision.

Excerpted from Charles R. Swindoll, Great Days with the Great Lives (Nashville: W Publishing Group, 2005). Copyright © 2005 by Charles R. Swindoll, Inc. All rights reserved. Used by permission.

April 18, 2012
Release Your Grip
by Charles R. Swindoll

Read Genesis 22:10--14

This isn't a movie. As far as Abraham was concerned, the drama didn't have a surprise ending. The knife goes up in order to bring it down into his son's chest or across his throat, and what will happen next is the death of his boy. This is real! This is faith in the wild where the stakes are incredibly high---life and death!

Suddenly, at the last possible moment, God intervened:

But the angel of the LORD called to him from heaven and said, "Abraham, Abraham!" And he said, "Here I am." He said, "Do not stretch out your hand against the lad, and do nothing to him; for now I know that you fear God, since you have not withheld your son, your only son, from Me." (Genesis 22:11--12)

As the Lord stopped Abraham's hand midplunge, He said, in effect, "You've passed the test, My faithful friend. You've proven to Me who is first, My aging son. You have also proven that your faith has reached full maturity. Your willingness to give up your only son has demonstrated that while you love the gift, you love the Giver more."

Then Abraham raised his eyes and looked, and behold, behind him a ram caught in the thicket by his horns; and Abraham went and took the ram and offered him up for a burnt offering in the place of his son. Abraham called the name of that place The LORD Will Provide, as it is said to this day, "In the mount of the LORD it will be provided." (Genesis 22:13--14)

After this, hundreds of years and ancient sands have covered the site. However, this very mountaintop would one day accommodate a city and a temple. It would become the capital of God's covenant kingdom and His house of worship until, finally, it would be the place where Christ, the King and consummate sacrifice, would die. Moriah, Jerusalem, the place where another Father held His Son loosely, laid Him on an altar, and sacrificed Him for us. On this mountain in the region of Moriah---a place renamed "The Lord will provide"---a ram became Isaac's substitute, and Christ became ours.



Excerpted from Charles R. Swindoll, Great Days with the Great Lives (Nashville: W Publishing Group, 2005). Copyright © 2005 by Charles R.

April 17, 2012
Faith Involves Risk
by Charles R. Swindoll

Read Genesis 22:9

Some people live so carefully they absolutely refuse to take risks. Everything has to be carefully regulated and kept under control . . . their control. Borders defined, guidelines spelled out, every dime accounted for, no surprises. And after having expended so much time and effort trying to live safely, they end life never having accomplished anything of lasting value. They built nothing, tried nothing new, invested in no one.

Not Abraham! His faith had matured to the point that his absolute confidence in God's character gave him the freedom to throw caution to the wind and risk everything to obey. What a perfect lesson in theology for his son.

I've heard this passage preached countless times, and I've never heard anyone talk about the quiet faith of this remarkable young man. He's the sacrifice, yet he allowed himself to be bound up and placed onto that altar! Obviously, this son learned his theology well from his father---a father who released his son because he completely trusted his God. By the way, Isaac didn't learn such faith on his way up the mountain that morning. He'd been cultivating it over the years, thanks to his father who modeled it often.

Some of you parents may find yourselves in a similar situation as you read these pages. Your relationship with your child may have reached a point where you have no other choice but to commit him or her completely to God's care. You would love to work out the details, but you cannot. You know the Lord is good, and you have prayed for a resolution, but nothing has changed. Only God can intervene. And because that is true, you can take your cues from Abraham.

Place your relationship with that son or daughter on the altar today. Surrender him or her to the Lord as an offering. Take this risk. Mentally place your boy or girl on top of the wood, and step back from the altar. Trust God. In His time, He will provide.

Excerpted from Charles R. Swindoll, Great Days with the Great Lives (Nashville: W Publishing Group, 2005). Copyright © 2005 by Charles R. Swindoll, Inc. All rights reserved. Used by permission.

April 16, 2012
Genuine Faith
by Charles R. Swindoll
Read Genesis 22:3-8; Hebrews 11:8-19

I had to read this passage several times before I saw Abraham's clearly implied statement of faith. His words and his demeanor are so understated, so matter-of-fact, that it's easy to miss the drama of this scene. If I were about to sacrifice my only son, who embodied all the promises that God had ever made to me, I would have been overcome with emotion. "I don't understand why God is making me do this, but I will do as He says. So I'm going up that mountain to sacrifice my son on that altar, then I'm going home to mourn this terrible loss for the rest of my life!"

According to the book of Hebrews, Abraham knew three important facts. First, Isaac was to be the vehicle of God's promises; therefore, Isaac must live. Second, God always keeps His promises. Third, God's power is absolute, even over the power of death. The only logical conclusion that remained was that somehow, against all natural reason, after killing Isaac and allowing the fire to completely consume him, God would miraculously restore the life of Isaac---the boy he dearly loved.

Obviously, Abraham didn't tell Isaac everything he knew about what was to happen on the mountain. We can't be sure why he withheld that information. Maybe to spare his son unnecessary fear or dread. We don't know. But I do know that when God does a transforming work in you that involves a trial, He's not testing other people; He's testing you. Because this experience is designed for you, it isn't necessarily required or even appropriate for you to share the whole story with everyone else. Or, for that matter, with anyone else. Occasionally, strength is mustered in keeping it to ourselves . . . completely.

Isaac finally asked the obvious question. They have a knife, wood, and fire for the sacrifice. "Where is the sacrifice?" I love Abraham's answer. "God will provide." The Hebrew uses an idiom that sounds just like something a dad would say today. "The Lord will see to that for Himself, son." Can you hear his calm, reassuring tone? "God will provide for Himself. That's up to Him. We're doing His will. It's up to Him to work out the details He didn't give to us. Our responsibility is to trust Him. This is a risk we will share together."
Excerpted from Charles R. Swindoll, Great Days with the Great Lives (Nashville: W Publishing Group, 2005). Copyright © 2005 by Charles R. Swindoll, Inc. All rights reserved. Used by permissio

April 14, 2012
Holding Too Tightly
by Charles R. Swindoll

Read Genesis 22:1-2

Each of our children grew to become a self-sustaining, responsible servant of Jesus Christ, in his or her own way. As God intended from the beginning, we released them to follow their destinies.

Some of you reading these words did not release your children in this way. Perhaps you have lost your child through death, a terrible crime, divorce, or some other horrible tragedy. Let me be clear about this. While God is the sovereign ruler of all and nothing is beyond His power or knowledge, a horrible tragedy is never a cruel, merciless act on God's part. God did not find delight in making you endure such grief. Yes, as with Job, He permitted it, but He is not the author of evil. The evil intent of a world that has been twisted by sin took your child from you.

God hates not only sin, He also hates death. He hates it so much that He sent His Son to destroy death by dying and rising again. Death is called in the Scriptures our "last enemy" (1 Corinthians 15:26). Ultimately, the Lord will have the last word in this fight against evil, and He spoke that word to us through Jesus Christ. Put simply: Death is the will of a world gone wrong. Resurrection is God's final triumph over evil.

Whether we lose our children by tragedy or design, this much is true: Anything we hold dear, we must learn to hold loosely. Let's face it, if we hold anything too tightly, it probably has us rather than our having it. And God will not allow that for your sake or the sake of your loved one.

Ultimately, the decision to hold anything loosely---especially as it applies to relationships---is an act of faith. Human instinct would have us clutch the things we adore most. Releasing them, presenting them to God, requires that we trust Him to do what is right. When we do this for our children, the lasting impact we leave is a practical model of faith. And I can think of no better way to teach our children about the God we worship than by modeling our trust in Him daily.

Excerpted from Charles R. Swindoll, Great Days with the Great Lives (Nashville: W Publishing Group, 2005). Copyright © 2005 by Charles R. Swindoll, Inc. All rights reserved. Used by permission.

April 13, 2012
What's Your Motive?
by Charles R. Swindoll

Read Philippians 1:17; James 4:3

During my days in seminary, I formed a habit that helped me immensely throughout life. I had my artistic sister, Luci, print a simple, three-word question on a small rectangular card I placed on the wall above the desk where I spent so much of my time.

Just black letters on a white card, with a bold question mark at the end:

WHAT'S YOUR MOTIVE?

I no longer have the card, but the question is now indelibly etched on my mind. I ask it almost every day of my life. It has proven to be an essential checkpoint I now apply on a regular basis:

Why are you planning this?
What's the reason behind your doing that?
Why did you say yes (or no)?
What is the motive for writing that letter?
Why are you excited over this opportunity?
What causes you to bring up that subject?
Why did you mention his or her name?
What's your motive, Swindoll?

Searching, probing, penetrating questions.

Because the path of servanthood is so perilous, we need to cultivate a sensitive walk with God marked by obedience.
Adapted from Charles R. Swindoll, Improving Your Serve: The Art of Unselfish Living (Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 1981), 157--58. Copyright © 1981 by Charles R. Swindoll, Inc. All rights reserved worldwide. Used by permission.

Three Timely Lessons for God's Servants
by Charles R. Swindoll

Read John 15:20; Acts 24:16; Hebrews 6:10

In recent posts, I have written about God's servants feeling used and unappreciated, experiencing undeserved disrespect and resentment, and having hidden greed---a desire to be rewarded.

From these very real and common perils, there emerge at least three timely lessons for all of us to remember.

Lesson one: no servant of God is completely safe. A tough truth to accept! We who give and give become increasingly more vulnerable as time passes (read John 15:20). Truth be told, there are times we'll get ripped off. We will be used. We will feel unappreciated. But realizing ahead of time this will happen, we are better equipped to handle it when it comes. The proper perspective will guard us against stumbling into peril. Lean hard on the Master when you serve others.

Lesson two: most of the servant's deeds will be initially unrewarded. That's a basic axiom we must accept (read Hebrews 6:10). If you are the type who needs a lot of strokes from people, who has to be appreciated before you can continue very long, you'd better forget about being a servant. More often than not, you will be overlooked, passed up, placed behind the scenes, and be virtually unknown. Your reward will not come from without but from within. Not from people but from the satisfaction God gives you down inside.

Much of the ministry requires this mentality. A pastor may stand at the door of the church following his sermon and shake hands with the flock as everybody says nice things about him (my friend Howard Hendricks calls this "the glorification of the worm," a description I certainly agree with), but in reality, if that man preaches for those few moments of flattery---and most don't---he's in the wrong business.

Lesson three: all motives must be honestly searched. Before jumping, think to ask why (read Acts 24:16). Before accepting any tangible gifts of gratitude (and there are occasions when such is perfectly acceptable), probe into your reason for doing so.

Check your motive, fellow servant.
Adapted from Charles R. Swindoll, Improving Your Serve: The Art of Unselfish Living (Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 1981), 155--57. Copyright © 1981 by Charles R. Swindoll, Inc. All rights reserved worldwide. Used by permission.

April 11, 2012
Hidden Greed
by Charles R. Swindoll

Read 2 Kings 5:14--27

The prophet Elisha's servant, Gehazi, was the bearer of news the Syrian officer, Naaman, did not want to hear. As a result, Naaman threw a fit. But do you know what later happened to Naaman? He finally did precisely what he was told to do, and he received the miraculous result he had been promised (2 Kings 5:14).

Unlike many people whom you and I may help, Naaman returned to thank Elisha and Gehazi. He was so overwhelmed, he offered a sizable gift of gratitude. Elisha refused any tangible thank you (5:15--19). But that's not the end of the account. Naaman offered Gehazi a gift as well. Deep within the heart of Elisha's servant crouched a silent beast of the soul. It is perhaps the most subtle peril every servant of God must endure: hidden greed.

This is the secret, smoldering desire to be rewarded, applauded, and exalted. Elisha said, "No." No way did he want the soldier ever to say, "Elisha did it for what he would get out of it," which prompted the prophet to respond as he did---"I will take nothing" (5:16). But Gehazi was cut from another piece of cloth. Maybe he was weary of feeling used and unappreciated, or perhaps he had had enough of just getting by on a shoestring. Whatever his reasoning, he possessed some pretty strong feelings, since he second-guessed Elisha's decision (5:20), falsified the story when he met up with Naaman (5:22), and attempted to cover his tracks when he later stood before his master (5:25). Gehazi's end was tragic.

Exposed and sternly judged, Gehazi experienced a horrible punishment---leprosy (5:25--27). Gehazi had not only gone against the decision of the prophet, he had lied to him when confronted with his deeds.

The servant was accountable! Accountability is essential in order for any servant of God to remain pure and pliable clay in the Master's hand.

Frankly, I'm grateful such extreme consequences don't happen to us today when our motives are wrong. If they did, churches would be full of people with leprosy.

Adapted from Charles R. Swindoll, Improving Your Serve: The Art of Unselfish Living (Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 1981), 152--54. Copyright © 1981 by Charles R. Swindoll, Inc. All rights reserved worldwide. Used by permission.
April 10, 2012



Good Will Come
by Charles R. Swindoll

Read 2 Timothy 2:24--26

As a pastor, counselor, and seminary chancellor, I have often found myself in an unpopular spot. An individual who has come to me pours out his or her soul. And God very clearly leads me to confront or point out a few specifics that the person finds rather painful to hear, not to mention accept.

Suddenly, I become the verbal punching bag.

Now understand, I didn't write the Book, and I in no way view myself as the individual's judge, even though the person may think I do. But I have had counselees scream at me, curse, stomp out of the room, and share with me a piece of their mind they couldn't afford to lose. Some wait until later and write me one of those flaming missiles that burns your eyes when you read it.

And what did I do to deserve that treatment? I told the truth. I simply carried a message as tactfully and well-timed as possible, but it was rejected---at least for a while.

But the payoff comes later when the person realizes the truth was told and I really had his or her good at heart.

I suppose the moral of the story is this: being God's servant may not be very pleasant, but when you do and say what is right---unpopular though it may be---good will come.

Or better, in the words of Solomon:

When a man's ways are pleasing to the LORD,
He makes even his enemies to be at peace with him. (Proverbs 16:7)
Adapted from Charles R. Swindoll, Improving Your Serve: The Art of Unselfish Living (Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 1981), 149--52. Copyright © 1981 by Charles R. Swindoll, Inc. All rights reserved worldwide. Used by permission.

April 9, 2012
Dealing with Disrespect and Resentment
by Charles R. Swindoll

Read 2 Kings 5:1--12; 2 Timothy 2:24--26

A man named Naaman was a high-ranking Syrian soldier. He was influential, wealthy, proud---a man of dignity, courage, patriotism, and military clout. There was only one problem: the man had leprosy. Through a chain of interesting events, Naaman was led to Elisha for cleansing from his dread disease (2 Kings 5:1--14).

It fell to Elisha's servant to be the bearer of news the Syrian officer did not want to hear. As we read in the account, the high-ranking soldier was offended. He became enraged. And look who was caught in the crossfire---the servant. The dear guy didn't generate the news, he just communicated it . . . and boom! The result? Feeling and hearing the verbal blows of disrespect and resentment. Let me stretch this out and apply it.

There are times when God's servant is called upon to confront or in some way tell another the truth that the individual does not want to hear. The information may be painful to accept, but it is what God wants said. So the faithful servant says it. Graciously yet accurately. And all of a sudden the lid blows sky high. He is caught in the crossfire. What do you do in such precarious moments? Fight back? Yell and scream and threaten in return?

Listen to God's counsel to servants whose job it is to say hard things:

The Lord's bond-servant must not be quarrelsome, but be kind to all, able to teach, patient when wronged, with gentleness correcting those who are in opposition, if perhaps God may grant them repentance leading to the knowledge of the truth, and they may come to their senses and escape from the snare of the devil, having been held captive by him to do his will. (2 Timothy 2:24--26)

What wise counsel! Not quarrelsome, but kind. Not irritated, but patient . . . even when wronged. Not angry, but gentle.
God may be using your words to help the hearers "come to their senses," which may sound very noble. But, believe me, there are times it's not a lot to write home about.

Adapted from Charles R. Swindoll, Improving Your Serve: The Art of Unselfish Living (Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 1981), 148--49. Copyright © 1981 by Charles R. Swindoll, Inc. All rights reserved worldwide. Used by permission.

April 7, 2012
A Hope Transfusion
by Charles R. Swindoll

Revelation 1:17--18

Easter and hope are synonymous. That special day never arrives without its refreshing reminder that there is life beyond this one. True life. Eternal life. Glorious life. Those who live on what we might call "the outskirts of hope" need a transfusion. Easter gives it.

I think of all those who are battling the dread disease of cancer. Talk about people living on "the outskirts." They fight the gallant battle, endure the horrible reactions of chemotherapy, and anxiously await the results of the next checkup.

And then there are those who still grieve over the loss of a mate, a child, a parent, or a friend. Death has come like a ruthless thief, snatching away a treasured presence, leaving only memories. What is missing?

Hope. Hope has died. There is nothing like Easter to bring hope back to life. Easter has its own anthems. Easter has its own Scriptures. And Easter has its own proclamation: "He is not here, for He has risen, just as He said" (Matthew 28:6).

When Christians gather in houses of worship and lift their voices in praise to the risen Redeemer, the demonic hosts of hell and their damnable prince of darkness are temporarily paralyzed.

When pastors stand and declare the unshakable, undeniable facts of Jesus's bodily resurrection and the assurance of ours as well, the empty message of skeptics and cynics is momentarily silenced.

Our illnesses don't seem nearly so final.
Our fears fade and lose their grip.
Our grief over those who have gone on is diminished.
Our desire to press on in spite of the obstacles is rejuvenated.

Our identity as Christians is strengthened as we stand in the lengthening shadows of saints down through the centuries, who have always answered back in antiphonal voice: "He is risen, indeed!"

A hope transfusion awaits us. It happens every year on Easter Sunday.

Alleluia! Jesus lives, and so shall we!

Excerpted from Day by Day with Charles R. Swindoll, Copyright © 2000 by Charles R. Swindoll, Inc. All rights reserved worldwide. Used by permission.

April 6, 2012
Battlefield Memories
by Charles R. Swindoll

Mark 15:33--39

On the once bloody battlefield at Saratoga there stands a towering obelisk. A 155-foot-high monument commemorative of that decisive struggle where the British made their last stand over two centuries ago. It is a solemn and sober moment as visitors stand on that windswept hill, savoring that slice of national history. In the distance are the stately Adirondacks and the Taconics. The monument gives mute testimony to those heroes of yesteryear who refused to bow the knee to England. About its base are four deep niches, and in each niche appears the name of one of the American generals who commanded there. Above the names stand giant bronze figures on horseback . . . as famous today as in the day they shouted their commands. You can almost hear their voices. In the first stands Horatio Gates; in the second, Philip John Schuyler; and in the third, Daniel Morgan.

But the niche on the fourth side is strangely vacant. The name appears, but the soldier is absent. Conspicuously absent. As one reads the name, the mind rushes on to the foggy banks of the Hudson where the man sold his soul and forfeited the right to be remembered. How the mighty are fallen! The brigadier general who once commanded West Point, the major general who distinguished himself at battles along Lake Champlain, Mohawk Valley Quebec, and Saratoga, committed treason and died a synonym of disgrace---the infamous Benedict Arnold.

There is another empty niche, far more famous and in sharp contrast to that monument in the state of New York. It, too, stands in memory of a battle, but not the kind fought with guns and bayonets. This niche is actually a tomb . . . a place that once held a body, in fact, the most significant body that ever housed a human soul. The tomb was borrowed, appropriately, and "used" for only a few hours. But in perfect fulfillment of Scripture, it enveloped the dead Messiah.

The battle against sin had been bloody and treacherous. Anyone who had the courage to visit that tomb shortly after it was sealed would certainly have wept bitterly. The battlefield, strewn with the litter of an awful fight, was only too vivid in everyone's memory---a small pile of clothing, a spear, a matted network of thorns in the shape of a head, a bloody cross. And those words, those final words the victim uttered, especially that awful scream---

"Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani?" (Mark 15:34)

But what appeared to be defeat was actually the preface of victory. That ugly, rugged cross took its toll, but it failed to have the final voice.

Deep in the silence of night, against all odds and in mockery of strong-armed soldiers, that victim became the Victor. "Up from the grave He arose, with a mighty triumph o'er His foes." Or, as Charles Wesley wrote of that Easter-morning miracle:

Love's redeeming work is done, Alleluia!
Fought the fight, the battle won, Alleluia!
Death in vain forbids Him rise, Alleluia!
Christ has opened paradise, Alleluia!

The bloody battlefield paled into a misty memory as the tomb opened its jaws for all to enter. Death could not keep its prey . . . He tore the bars away . . . He came back from beyond.

Every year the empty niche makes its own bold proclamation. Etched into the stone is a Name that is above every name, the gentle Conqueror, the King of Kings, the sovereign Lord.

On Easter Sunday we shall again visit that historic battleground. We won't find Him there on a cross or standing tall as a bronzed statue. For "He is not here . . . He has risen, just as He said" (Matthew 28:6).

Let's meet at the monument and let's think about Him. And reflect on His victory. And remember His Name as we worship near that windswept hill called Calvary.

Excerpted from Come Before Winter and Share My Hope, Copyright © 1985, 1994 by Charles R. Swindoll, Inc. All rights reserved worldwide. Used by permission.

April 5, 2012
To Serve and to Give
by Charles R. Swindoll

Read Mark 10:45

God's true servant is like the Lord Jesus, who came not "to be served, but to serve, and to give His life a ransom for many" (Mark 10:45).

To serve and to give.

Pride wants strokes---lots of them. It loves to get the credit, to be mentioned, to receive glory, to have people ooh and ahh. Ideally, your superiors will be thoughtful people who give you the credit you deserve, but, regrettably, that will not always occur. And your pride will need to be held in check.

At those tough times when you do the work and someone else gets the strokes, remember your role: to serve and to give.

True love flowing from authentic servants does not keep a record of who did what, and it does not look to others for the credit. In other words, real servants stay conscious of the blindness pride can create.

Adapted from Charles R. Swindoll, Improving Your Serve: The Art of Unselfish Living (Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 1981), 147. Copyright © 1981 by Charles R. Swindoll, Inc. All rights reserved worldwide. Used by permission.

April 4, 2012
Feeling Used and Unappreciated
by Charles R. Swindoll

Read 2 Kings 4; Hebrews 6:10

For a servant named Gehazi, working alongside a high-profile, greatly respected prophet like Elisha was a privilege. But at the same time, it was a particular position that brought about unique temptations.

The "miracle child" God had given the barren Shunammite woman grew up and was old enough to work in the fields. While doing so, he either received a severe blow to his forehead or suffered a sunstroke or some other serious internal problem, causing the young lad to cry out, "My head, my head!" (2 Kings 4:19). Naturally, the mother thought immediately of Elisha. If anybody can help, Elisha can.

Elisha laid out a plan, and his servant was dispatched to the bedside of the mother's son. We can be sure Gehazi's heart was beating fast. He must have anticipated an exciting response, as God would surely raise the lad from death. He would be involved in a miracle! But nothing happened. Not a thing changed.

Suddenly, Elisha burst on the scene, and phenomenal results occurred. A miracle transpired. The child was raised!

Try to identify with Gehazi. As you do so, you'll feel some of the very human feelings Gehazi must have felt. Serve others long enough and you'll periodically dip into this valley. Gehazi had done exactly what he was told to do. Yet he had witnessed no change, no miracle. In came Elisha who suddenly did it all. And guess who was given the assignment to tell the mother? Gehazi!

And if that isn't sufficient, the chapter goes on to relate how a famine struck the area. Our friend, Gehazi, was told to whip up a pot of stew. Inadvertently, poisonous plants were dropped into the crockpot, and everybody cried out! But Elisha showed up and fixed the problem---again (4:38--44).

Gehazi had done the work . . . but Elisha got all the credit. I mean, the servant couldn't even make stew! How frustrated can one get? So it is with serving today. It is so easy to feel used and unappreciated.

Do I write to you who serve behind the scenes in a ministry or a business? You work faithfully and diligently, yet the glory goes to another. Your efforts make someone else successful. How easy to feel resentful! Assistant directors, associate and assistant pastors, secretaries, administrators, "internal personnel," take heart! Our God who rewards in secret will never overlook your commitment.

For God is not unjust so as to forget your work and the love which you have shown toward His name, in having ministered and in still ministering to the saints. (Hebrews 6:10)
A great verse for those of you who feel used and unappreciated.

Adapted from Charles R. Swindoll, Improving Your Serve: The Art of Unselfish Living (Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 1981), 142--47. Copyright © 1981 by Charles R. Swindoll, Inc. All rights reserved worldwide. Used by permission.

pril 3, 2012
Some Common Misconceptions, Part 2
by Charles R. Swindoll

Read 2 Corinthians 4:8--11

Yesterday, we learned that God's servants have no special powers in themselves. Thinking they do is our first misconception. Our adequacy comes from God alone.

Another misconception is that servants don't struggle with everyday problems. To set that straight, let's consider 2 Corinthians 4:8--9:

We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not despairing; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed. (2 Corinthians 4:8--9)

Afflicted. Perplexed. Persecuted. Struck down. These terms reflect the struggles common to all of us. Under stress, confused, pursued, rejected---Paul (and every servant since his day) understands what it means to endure the constant blast of problems. In fact, it is in the crucible that the servant learns to release his or her way for God's way. Servants do indeed struggle with daily difficulties.

A final misconception goes like this: servants are protected against subtle dangers. To correct this error, we need to read verses 10--11:

[We are] always carrying about in the body the dying of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our body. For we who live are constantly being delivered over to death for Jesus'; sake, so that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our mortal flesh. (2 Corinthians 4:10--11)

People who serve God and others "carry about in the body" signs of death---dangers and perils that are undeniable. Subtle and silent, these dangers lurk in the most unexpected places, pleading for satisfaction. The true servant is vulnerable. When the servant stumbles into these traps, it isn't long before he or she is completely ensnared. And it seldom happens fast or boldly. Usually, it comes on the scene in another garb entirely, appearing to be anything but dangerous.

So let's not be misled, servants of God, no matter how useful, godly, unselfish, and admirable you think you are; we are every bit as human and subject to the perils of life as any other person on earth.

Adapted from Charles R. Swindoll, Improving Your Serve: The Art of Unselfish Living (Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 1981), 139--40. Copyright © 1981 by Charles R. Swindoll, Inc. All rights reserved worldwide. Used by permission.