Christian, Your Bible Is Your Life

I’ve written so many versions of this post over that last few months trying to get it right. At this point I don’t care if it’s “right” because I just know it’s true.

Also, I may have already posted something similar to this on Penprints a while ago. But here we are again because this is something that’s worth repeating every single day for the rest of your life:

Christian, the Bible is your life.

Christian, the Bible Is Your Life.jpg

I’ll say it again.

Christian, the Bible is your life.

From the instant you wake up to the moment you fall asleep—and even the moments in between—you are prey to attack from the enemy: temptations, lies, discouragements, and distractions, whether you realize it or not. And most Christians don’t realize it anymore.

Most Christians don’t realize that just because Satan can’t rip Jesus’ elect out of the Father’s hand doesn’t mean that Satan the accuser isn’t trying to destroy Christians any way that he can. He’s prowling around like a lion just looking for someone to devour.

Satan and his demons are master deceivers. They’ll trick you into locking yourself into a cage built on lies—lies about yourself and God. They’ll say things like: Yes, there is grace, but you still need to earn God’s love.

God’s disappointed in you. He doesn’t approve of you.

God gives rewards, not gifts.

How embarrassing that you’re so weak.

It’s okay if you don’t tell anybody about that sin you commit in secret; you can fight it on your own.

Someone else would be better equipped for this task than you.

God’s silence means he’s angry with you.

They’ll lull you to sleep, wooing you into complacency until you die in your foolishness. You already understand forgiveness. Why study it anymore?

You’ve already heard so many sermons on Galatians. Why listen anymore?

You’ve already arrived, you already have so much wisdom, so shhhh, this teaching doesn’t have anything for you.

They’ll accuse you, taking you down again and again and again until you simply stay down, pierced through with flaming reproaches that burn you from the inside out. Remember this sin? The one that always comes to mind when you hear the word “sin.” That disqualifies you.

If you really loved Jesus, you wouldn’t feel this way.

You’re such a fool.

You should be doing more.

Christians shouldn’t be depressed.

And most of the time, they do all this without your notice and certainly without your consent. They’re constantly working in the background, leveraging difficult emotions and painful, unseen hurts and lies that you already believe to sow more lies, despair, distraction, foolishness, and death.

So often, these thoughts that slip through our heads or these feelings of shame or accusation that wash over us that we a) don’t take any real notice to, b) pass off as our own thoughts, negativity, and low self-esteem, or worst of all c) even mistake as a the Holy Spirit’s right conviction are actually a type of attack.

So subtle we don’t even notice, but we still feel the effects—the weariness, the despair, the shame, the heaviness, the guilt.

And if we do notice, we think it’s the Holy Spirit telling us to get our act together or something like that. But that’s not how the Holy Spirit relates to Christians. That’s not how God speaks to his redeemed children hidden in Christ. The New Testament is filled with truth like: “There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ.” So why would God’s voice sound condemning or accusing? It wouldn’t. It doesn’t.

Yes, the Holy Spirit convicts, but he doesn’t do so on a basis of guilt or shame. The Holy Spirit convicts with the gentleness and kindness that leads us to repentance, not mere regret.

So how can we know what God’s voice sounds like?

His Bible.

Christian, the Bible is your life.

More than anything else in this world, the Bible is your life.

It is God’s chosen self-revelation to his people, his spoken words written down and sovereignly, miraculously preserved for thousands of years.

It is solid, absolute truth that can be wielded as a weapon and fled to as a refuge.

The heavens and the earth will pass away, but God’s Word, his Bible, will stand forever.

Yes, it is difficult and confusing and ancient and prone to make people uncomfortable, but all those difficulties lie with us, not with the Bible.

Ours are the small, finite, fallen minds that are so easily distracted and thrown into confusion.

Ours are the hearts so overtaken by pride that we judge and question what God did and chose to pass to us as if we have any right to speak back to the only Holy One of Israel.

Christian, the Bible is your life.

It is what shows you who God is—mighty and merciful, holy and kind, just and gracious, zealous and tender. It is what tells you what’s true. It is what trains your heart to discern the voice of the Holy Spirit from the lies and accusations of the enemy. It is what fills your soul. It is what teaches you wisdom. It is what unfurls the life, death, resurrection, and glory of Jesus for all to see.

There is no self-help book, no act of self-care, no mental health routine, no pep talk, no vain positivity, no drug, no drink, no fantasy, no TV show, no novel, nothing that can give you life or see you to the end of this life in joy. Any “solution” apart from the Bible is a lie.

Christian, my beloved, your Bible is your life.

It is not optional. It is not for when you happen to have the time. It is not for when you’re feeling like reading the Bible. It’s not for feel-good, flowery Instagram posts. It’s not for a reading plan you start in Genesis and stop somewhere in Leviticus. It’s not for ignoring.

It is life, truth, and wisdom. It is for life, for enduring, for rejoicing, for remembering, for meditating on, for preaching to the ends of the earth, for repentance, for fighting the good fight, for finishing the race.

Every day of our lives we’re at war, whether we know it or not. We’re going to end up harassed and beaten down by all manner of temptations and deceptions, limping through life instead of walking in the victory and freedom of Jesus if we don’t know the Bible.

Christian, the Bible is your life. Do you know that? Do you?

With love,

Rosalie

p.s. – This theme has kept coming up a lot for me since I moved to Texas in January, and it finally came out in words that make sense (mostly). Also, I didn’t link to any of the verses these truths were pulled from because those links never get used, so if you want me to include links to verses and passages in the future, let me know in the comments!

p.p.s. – thanks for hanging in with me while my posting schedule has been all over the place these last six months. You guys are the best. <3

p.p.p.s. – I’m 80% sure there’s a typo or two that eluded me. My apologies. I would blame it on my blogging rustiness, but we all know I’ve always had typos.

p.p.p.p.s. – Also, I couldn’t write this post without including this gif.

this weapon is your life.gif

p.p.p.p.p.s. – here’s a link to a post from last year about when you don’t understand the Bible if Bible reading feels especially hard for you.

When Hope Is Gone

I shared in this post a little bit of my struggle with hope recently, and we’re going to explore the battle for/with hope in today’s post.

However, I do want to say from the outset that this is not a post about depression—at least not the go-to-counseling, take-some-medication, etc. kind of depression. This is more about the situational depression that most—if not all—Christians will face at least once in their life, the times when hope is gone.

when hope is gone.jpg

As Christians, our lives are based on hope—hope in our Christ, hope for the future given to us by our Christ, hope despite the world of death we live in. Our hope is our confidence in Christ, our trust that He is who He said He is, that He’ll do what He said He will, and that in the end, we will be with Him.

But sometimes our hope can falter or collapse altogether. These are the seasons when our hope for the present time is deferred, and our hearts get sick. We get caught in a situation that beats the confidence right out of us—not the confidence that it will all be okay in the end but the confidence that we can make it through tomorrow.

Pain dims our vision, and it makes it seem like Jesus and all His triumph are so far away, too far away. We know in our heads that God is good. We know in our heads that this mess will end up for our good, eventually. We know in our heads that it will be all right, that God is righteous and kind and trustworthy.

Countless situations wring the hope right out of us. The death of a friend. The unfaithfulness of a spouse. The indifference of a child who’s walked away from God. The church that tears itself—you included—apart. The job that’s draining the lifeblood out of you. The storms that just. won’t. end.

The longer a trial goes on, the harder it is to walk through it with hope, and each of us has a breaking point, the point where pain gets to be too much, the point where we reach for hope and it’s just gone, completely out of reach.

I wish I could give five steps to reclaim hope, but it’s not that simple.

It’s never simple when you try to pray but you can only sit in silence or cry at God. It’s never simple when you’re sobbing four different times in one day. It’s never simple when you try to worship but you can’t lift your head past your hurt. It’s never simple when you need to talk about it but you don’t know how.

It’s never simple when you call out to God and beg for good things, things that are in His Word, things that seem like they would bring Him glory, things that seem like they would be His will, and He says “no” again and again and again and again and again until you don’t know what to pray for.

But hope is never truly gone, and that is what we have to remember.

Hope is never truly gone because God is never gone. Yes, it can feel like He’s far away, but He’s not. Yes, sometimes we have no way of knowing when it will get better—or even if it will get better—but someday it will, even if that day isn’t until we go meet Jesus in the clouds.

Yes, eternity can seem like it’s a lifetime away and the present can be like a millstone, but our hope cannot be fixed in the present. We are a people crafted for an eternity with God. We are a people set apart as priests and prophets and exiles always looking toward our home.

Recently, this was hard truth for me to swallow. I wanted hope for now, but instant hope is flimsy hope. I learned that Jesus alone must be enough, and that He is enough because He is all that is sure and steady in life.

When I came to the end of my hope and I sat on the floor trying to pray while I cried, I encountered comfort from the Holy Spirit. At the end of my strength, He had more than enough. When I wasn’t sure when life would get better, that was all right because He’s promised that eternal life will be better than my wildest imaginings. When my faith and hope gave way, there was an ocean of grace for me to fall into. When I failed, He did not.

And He’s where I fix my hope.

Whenever I come up short, in any way that I come up short, He has plenty.

So when your hope is gone, keep your eyes open. Wrestle with God. Look into eternity. Don’t believe the lies your heart tells you; what you feel does not change what’s true. Weep and mourn when you must. Keep moving with endurance. Remember that God is infinite and far too high for us to always see how He’s working it for good. Read and reread Hebrews—it’s all about faith and hope. Learn to sing when there’s no light at the end of the tunnel.

Hold fast to your confidence in Christ. Don’t lose heart. Don’t give up. With God, hope is never truly gone. Our Prize is far too valuable to give up now.

With love,

Rosalie

P.S. – thank you to all of you who gave encouragement when I first mentioned my struggles with hope a few weeks ago, especially Gabby and Moya. <3

P.P.S. – this is such a huge subject, and I hardly went into WHY we cannot give up or faith’s relationship with hope, so if you guys are interested, we might be exploring this a little more in the coming year.

Mastered by Nothing [a beginner’s guide to self-control] [written by a beginner]

A couple weeks ago in my post about writing and its negative potency in my life, I talked very briefly on the idea of being mastered by everything but Jesus. Well, today, I’m digging into the idea and worthy goal of being mastered by nothing but Jesus.

So let’s roll up our sleeves and get going.

mastered-by-nothing.jpg

“All things are lawful for me,” but not all things are helpful. “All things are lawful for me,” but I will not be dominated by anything. – 1 Corinthians 6:12

At the core of this post is I Corinthians 6:12, and at the heart of 1 Corinthians 6:12 is self-control. Originally, this verse was specifically about self-control in the area of sexual sin, which is important to remember, however, I think there is much to be gleaned here regarding self-control in all areas of life.

As Christians, we have great freedom because of the liberty Christ bought for us with His blood (literally, He paid for every angle of our freedom as Christians with His blood; the more I think about it the wilder and more wondrous I realize it is. So don’t breeze over the truth of the high cost of our freedom.).

Not only are we free from bondage to sin and spiritual death in this life and the next (a thrilling and freeing truth by itself), we are also free from the need of a temple to offer sacrifice in because Jesus was the last sacrifice. We are free from the need of a priest to mediate between us and God because Jesus is our high priest. We’re free from every rule and ritual of the Law because Jesus fulfilled the Law.

We are free to do anything, but not everything will help us be like Christ. We are free to do anything, but we are not to be slaves to anything but Christ. What I mean when I say that we’re free to do anything is that we are able to do anything because the grace of God doesn’t ever end and will never be used up, so we are “allowed” to do anything. However, doing absolutely anything is an abuse of grace. Paul says in Romans 6: “What shall we say then? Are we to continue in sin that grace may abound? By no means! How can we who died to sin still live in it?”

So, let me say it again: under grace, all things are lawful because the Law is fulfilled and ended in Christ, but just because we can do it doesn’t mean we should. Under grace, all things are lawful because Christ set us free from the rule of the Law, but we are not to be controlled by anything. I think that’s the gist of 1 Corinthians 6:12.

Yet we so easily abuse our incredibly expensive, blood-bought freedom.

I misuse my liberty in a lot of different ways. I do things that are “allowed” but aren’t all that helpful, things that don’t spur me to be like Christ. I have habits and mindsets that aren’t forbidden but they’ve grown to a place where they rule me instead of living under my control. We can be mastered by host of different things, but I’ll just give a few examples.

I am mastered by my body when my alarm goes off and I hit snooze five times because I want more sleep and don’t have enough control to just get up (it’s a simple yet telling practice of the state of my self-discipline).

I am controlled by my cell phone when every little ding and blip and whistle has me tugging my phone out of my pocket and scrolling through notifications instead of devoting myself fully to the task at hand.

I am enslaved to my cravings and emotions when I breeze into the kitchen because my story just got rejected and I need some comfort food instead of dealing with rejection in a healthy, godly way.

I am dominated by my body when my hormones are on a warpath, and my anger comes lashing off my tongue.

I am mastered by my emotions when depression creeps up and drags me down into the mud, and instead of doing the work to haul through it, I wallow in it.

I am controlled by my aspirations when writing fills my thoughts, whips my emotions, and dictates my time use (see the post from a couple weeks ago).

And there are so many other things that so often end up controlling us: anxiety, money, sex, body-image, hobbies, possessions, ambitions, etc.; the list goes on and on.

And here’s the deal: sleep is necessary; sleep is good. But my body and however sleepy or tired it is should not rule me. My cell phone is good, but my cell phone should not control my attention. Food is necessary; food is good. Food is to be enjoyed and savored! But my desire for food for any reason should not master me. I have been created with hormones and emotions, and they do need to be processed. But that’s the things: I need to process my feelings, but my feelings should never process me.

I am free to sleep in and have a cell phone and eat yummy food and experience a full range of emotions, but not all those things are always helping my new nature slay my old one. I am free to sleep in and have a cell phone and eat yummy food and experience a full range of emotions, but none of them should ever control me.

So that leaves us with the problem of self-control. Self-control (or self-disciple or self-restraint) is one of those annoying things that’s far easier said (or written or read) than it is lived. So how can we make our bodies and emotions our servants instead of our masters?

Well, we can’t. This is the part that gets my pride all fluffed up, offended, and territorial because what in the world do you mean I can’t control myself?

Self-control isn’t a matter of self; it’s a matter of Spirit. Either we are controlled by whatever our personal vices are, or we are controlled by the Holy Spirit. There is no in between or part where we actually hold the reigns; we only get to decide who/what we’re going to pass the reigns to.

Self-control is one of the nine fruits of the Spirit mentioned in Galatians 5, and it’s one of eight attributes listed in 2 Peter 1. Both lists are like the process of sanctification in a nutshell. True believers will grow in these ways, but true growth is not a matter of willpower or work. Self-control is something to strive for, but we don’t get it overnight. It’s a process. And just like every other part of sanctification, it takes humility and time and intentionality and Spirit-reliance and daily, hourly, minutely gracious refillings of the Holy Spirit.

Recognizing that we can’t do it ourselves, that we’re still so weak, is the first step, and the next is faithful pursuit of knowing Christ and being like Christ. And then it’s a cycle of choosing to take those steps again and again and again.

In the everyday life, it looks like praying, “God, I can’t do this, but I want to because I want to be like You. I will run as hard and fast as I can to You, and I will trust that Your Holy Spirit will supply everything I lack to carve me into a better likeness of Your Son.” It looks like then asking in faith and expectation for opportunities to exercise self-control, to be shown where you need self-control, and prepare to be given lots of chances to practice self-control.

So, it is in being mastered by Jesus that we become mastered by nothing else.

Let’s drop a swanky bookend on this post.

As the title of states, this is only a beginner’s guide, and since it’s been written by a beginner, take it with a grain of salt and realize that this is barely even an introduction to self-control. For further reading on grace, sin, and self-control, I recommend Romans, 1 Corinthians, Proverbs, Ephesians, and this sermon from John Piper. (I’m recommending the whole books instead of specific verses because the fullness of the text is captured within its context, and the sermon from John Piper helped me write this post. Also, there’s a lot more to be found in Scripture about self-control; these are just the books I’ve been reading and ruminating over recently which spurred the writing of this post.)

Let’s chat it up. Anything to add? Do you struggle with self-control, or is there a different fruit of the Spirit/quality that you’re working on? What do you do to grow into the likeness of Christ?

With love,

Rosalie

P.S. – so, about the clickbait feature image of the Lego Loki in the tiny birdcage… well, I was racking my little brain about what I could photograph to capture the idea of self-control. I decided on the birdcage, and I was going to run with it and contrive some sort of decent explanation (like, we have to “cage our old nature” type thing; so brilliant, I know). But then I saw my little Lego Loki (curtesy of my Aunt Lis!), and then I was like: “Forget trying to make this picture relevant to the post or anything in life really. Some silliness is in order.”

And that’s how Lego Loki ended up in the tiny birdcage on Penprints.