A Special Friday

And when they came to the place that is called The Skull, there they crucified [Jesus], and the criminals, one on his right and one on his left. And Jesus said, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” And they cast lots to divide his garments. And the people stood by, watching, but the rulers scoffed at him, saying, “He saved others; let him save himself, if he is the Christ of God, his Chosen One!”  Luke 23:33-35

Yesterday was Good Friday. It also marked the 15th year anniversary of when I became a Christian, of when God saved me from myself for Himself. I had every reason in the world to be joyful yesterday. But I wasn't. Instead, I was irritable, grumbling inwardly, and wanted to be alone. Instead of focusing on how much I had to be thankful for (I mean, literally, yesterday symbolized the very foundation of gratitude), I was focusing on how well I didn't sleep the night before, how upset my stomach felt, and how dreary and cold the weather was. The skies were very gray, which is not uncommon to Pittsburgh, much like my melancholy attitude.

I even had a very fruitful time reading a couple of meditations yesterday morning about Good Friday, which was in the Holy Week devotional I have been reading this week. Through those readings, God allowed me to sense some of the weight and burden of what Jesus went through on the cross; more than just the physical agony, but the isolation and emptiness of Him being separated from His heavenly Father. And as much as this reading gripped me and drew me near to the throne of God's grace, I still couldn't shake the way I was feeling. I was struggling to fight for joy.

But then evening came, which brought with it the Good Friday service at Renaissance Church. It was just what I needed to refocus and reset, to remember what Christ had done for me. During the service, we raised our voices in praise to Jesus, who paid the penalty for our sins by dying on the cross, and we focused on the seven statements He made as He hung there in agony. The final words of a dying man. A man who was more than a man; this was the Creator of the universe sacrificing Himself for His rebellious and helpless creatures.

During the service, the Lord convicted me of my sinful attitude: of my grumbling heart and loveless disposition. I did have every reason to rejoice. When I was 17, God saved me. It wasn't because He saw anything good in me. I thought I was good. I thought He would be lucky to have me. But I wasn't good enough to warrant His attention and affection and rescue. It wasn't that I didn't believe in His existence, that was instilled in me in childhood; it's that I was apathetic to Him. When I heard the truth of my need for Him, I didn't react. I pondered, I considered, but I did nothing. So, in essence, I was rejecting Jesus and the work He did for me on the cross. I thought my good deeds were good enough and that I didn't need a sinless substitute to take God's away anger toward my sin. In fact, I didn't think God was angry with me at all, and if He was, I was the one to do something about it, not Jesus.

Like everyone else, I wanted to live life my own way. I was living for the approval of others and for my own esteem and benefit. But it was in the midst of this selfish pursuit that God began chasing after me. The words from the sermons at church started to grab my heart. I didn't totally understand why I needed Jesus in my life, but I couldn't get away from the idea that I did. The thought kept infringing itself upon my mind until I couldn't resist anymore. I needed Jesus. So, on Saturday evening when I got home from work on March 25, 2001, I told my dad I wanted to become a Christian, not even knowing what that really meant. He led me in a prayer of repentance for my sins and of asking Jesus to be the Savoir and Lord of my life. The words weren't magical. I didn't feel any tingling sensations or anything, but I did feel peace and purpose. I had this newfound resolve (strength from God) to follow Jesus and learn more about Him. In some sense, I realized that I belonged to another. Someone else would be calling the shots in my life.

As I read the meditations about Good Friday and sung the lyrics to the songs at the service and listened to the sermonette on Jesus being forsaken by God on the cross as He bore the sins of all His people, I couldn't help but think about how on this day 2000-plus years ago, Jesus died to set me free from sin and death and to bring me into a relationship with God, and how 15 years ago, Jesus cashed in that payment, so to speak, to make His sacrifice a reality in my life, to gain the prize for which He died. He not only became sin while on the cross (2 Corinthians 5:21), He became my sin. He not only faced the full wrath of God against sin, He faced the full wrath of God against my sin. It was the punishment that I deserved. Jesus never did or thought or said anything wrong. He wasn't apathetic to the things of God. He didn't grumble when things didn't go His way. He wasn't irritable or antisocial. Yet He paid for penalty as if He did. In fact, He became the very ugliness that lies in the crevices of my heart: the thoughts and motives and attitudes I wouldn't want anyone to see (and they wouldn't want to see them either). But Jesus sees them and instead of leaving me in disgust and sending me to hell (which would have been just), He took on flesh and then died, becoming those very things, in order that He could defeat sin and death and set me free and make me new.

One of the things Jesus said from the cross before He died was, "It is finished." The purpose for which He was born had been accomplished. He in some mysterious way took on the sins of the world and drunk the symbolic cup of God's fury against sin and unrighteousness while He was on the cross. And so those three words from Jesus continue to ring true for every one who trusts in Him. "It is finished." He speaks those words over every believer, including me.

And so last night, I recommitted myself to the Lord, giving Him the blank check of my life. Whatever He wants for me, I want it. Wherever He wants me to go, I'll go. That's what following Him means and that's what trusting Him looks like. He gave everything for me; the least I can do is live completely for Him. And by His grace and strength, I won't grumble about whatever He has in store, but will rejoice in all that God is for me and has done for me in Christ.

Unplanned Paces and Places

I have mentioned before that I am reading John Piper's Future Grace. I am slowly making my way through it, but it's really rocking my world in some ways. I just finished a chapter about how to fight impatience with future grace. Now when I think of impatience, I envision scenarios that involve being stuck in traffic or waiting for someone who is running late or waiting for spring to come (okay, that's legit - I am so antsy for spring!). While those may be included, Piper moves beyond the more superficial instances of impatience to ones that are much deeper; namely, scenarios that involve shattered dreams, painful trials, painstakingly slow outcomes, and undesired locations. He refers to these as the unplanned pace and the unplanned place of life. It is in these paces and places that our patience is truly tested. And it's where I have seen my tested over and over again these last several years (revealing just how impatient I am).

Piper says that patience is the "capacity to wait and endure without murmuring and disillusionment - to wait in the unplanned place, and endure the unplanned pace." We have to trust God to "turn all of our detours and obstacles into glorious outcomes." This is hard. Piper admits that it is and talks about the strength it takes to wait patiently in the unplanned, unasked for circumstances of life - the circumstances that God Himself says He is sovereign over and working in to display His grace and goodness for us. This has been hard for me. I admit that I have often murmured while waiting in the unplanned place at the unplanned pace. In fact, Pittsburgh was not at all a part of my plan and I have often grumbled (mostly in my heart) against it.

I can say the same about myself when it comes to waiting. I like to know the when and the how. I like to be able to make long-term plans. Daniel and I find ourselves in a holding pattern as we wait for a specific job opportunity to develop. We can't make summer plans or financial plans or other long-term plans without this piece of the puzzle. And although I am not really worried about what's going to happen, it sometimes drives me crazy not knowing. I just want to know. I just want to be able to put the pieces together and say this is what the next few years look like. And the reason I want to know is rooted in the fact that I want to feel like I am in control; I don't want to be dependent on God. So at the core I am not trusting God to guide me and provide for me, which reveals a lack of faith. That's ugly, but it's the truth. And it is in the unplanned paces and places where I learn to trust God more and more.

Knowing the answers to what's next is a gift. But it's not a gift God has for us right now. Waiting (growing in patience) is His gift to us. Even though I want to know, He knows (and I know) I don't need to know. Many of what I would consider detours to going overseas have been unplanned (by me), but I can see how God has used every single place and pace to reveal more of Christ to me as well as my constant need for Him. His ways may not be mine, but they are always greater than mine.

Jesus instead bids me to trust Him. Trust Him that I am exactly where I should be. Trust Him that He will show me what's next. Trust Him that His timing is always perfect. Trust Him that the circumstances He allows in my life, no matter how painful or frustrating, are from His hand. Trust Him that He will fulfill His promise that in every situation He will work every single thing (good or bad, painful or joyful) for my good (Romans 8:28).

So the secret to being patient, as you would expect from the title of the book, is trusting in God's future grace: believing in God's promise to be for you and not against you (Romans 8:31), so much so that He delights in doing you good both now and in the future (Jeremiah 32:41) and works in and through all circumstances in such a way so that they bless you (Genesis 50:20; Romans 8:28). These are the promises I am trying to cling to in the unplanned pace and place of life. Wherever you find yourself today, I hope you will do the same. His promises are for all who believe in Jesus and they are guaranteed to you because of what Jesus accomplished for us on the cross (2 Corinthians 1:20).

God is ruling the world. He is ruling history. And it is all for the good of His people and the glory of His name...So the lesson of the whole Bible stands: when delays and detours and frustrations and opposition ruin our plans and bode ill for us, faith in future grace lays hold of the sovereign purpose of God to bring something magnificent to pass. That is the key to patience. (Future Grace, p. 175, 173)

A Few More Thoughts

I promise I won’t continue to write about this, but there are so many things that God is up to regarding my last post that I wanted to share a few more things.

Last Sunday at church was Baby Dedication. Perfect timing, right? I say that sarcastically, but it was. It’s no coincidence that I miscarried exactly a week before there would be a church service where parents would dedicate their new babies to the Lord. Unlike some churches and denominations, my church (and I) believe that babies shouldn’t be baptized. We believe that baptism is for those who are old enough to make a conscious decision to follow Christ. No one is born a Christian. We are all born as rebels against God and we must respond to the call to turn to God through Christ in order to be saved. So, instead, my church does baby dedications as a way for families to commit to teaching their children about Jesus and as a way for the church to commit to partnering with and helping families in that high calling.

Even though we didn’t have a little one to dedicate in front of the church, I felt the Lord calling me to do so in my heart. The first question that my pastor asked these new parents was, “Will you entrust your children to the Lord?” When he asked that question, I felt the Lord asking me, “Will you? Will you entrust your little one to me?” Yes. Even though we don’t understand why God took away our child, we choose to entrust him to His care. In fact, what better hands could he be in that God’s? He knew each of the days of our baby's short life before he was even conceived.

My frame was not hidden from you,
when I was being made in secret,
    intricately woven in the depths of the earth.
Your eyes saw my unformed substance;
in your book were written, every one of them,
    the days that were formed for me,
    when as yet there was none of them. Psalm 139:15-16

 Later that day, one of our dear friends came by our house to give us flowers and a frame with the baby's name. And that is something else I wanted to share: the way that our brothers and sisters in Christ have mourned with us and supported us through this sorrowful time. As hard as it is to be so open and vulnerable with people about your pain, it is even harder to suffer in silence. I know this from experience. We have seen God work through our Renaissance church family and other Christians we know to comfort us and love us. Our missional community group (a.k.a. small group) has prayed with us, cried with us, sent us cards and text messages, and would do more if we would let them. It has been a beautiful thing to watch Romans 12:15 prove true in the life of the body of Christ: “Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep.” Our brothers and sisters in Christ rejoiced with us when we shared we were pregnant (the few we told) and mourned with us when we shared our loss. God has used them to bring us much comfort and encouragement, and has also used them to help us remember God’s goodness, sovereignty, and grace.

And God has not only used used this loss to give us the opportunity to be vulnerable with others (which is so hard for me), but He has also used it to help others be vulnerable with us. Several women have shared with me about their miscarriages. Losses they probably wouldn't have shared without learning about my loss. So relationships are going deeper and there has been sweetness in our sorrow. Only God can do that. He brings beauty out of the ashes (Isaiah 61:1-3).

Finally, I can only give credit to Jesus for how we have been responding to this affliction. I am afraid that a few months ago I wouldn’t have responded in faith. Instead, I would have headed in a downward spiral of self-pity and doubt. But God has a way of preparing us for the trials and afflictions He brings our way. He gives us the strength and faith to trust Him and praise Him in the midst of suffering and loss. He helps us to look at the unseen when all we can see is the pain around us. Because even though He causes grief, He will show compassion and shine His face on us again.

You who have made me see many troubles and calamities
    will revive me again;
from the depths of the earth
    you will bring me up again.
You will increase my greatness
    and comfort me again. Psalm 71:20-21

Another Loss

“I shall go to him, but he will not return to me.” 2 Samuel 12:23

This is a deeply personal post. I am sharing because, even though I wouldn’t choose these circumstances, this is how the Lord has chosen to work in my life. I try to be honest that living the Christian life, that following Jesus, is not about a life of ease and comfort. Suffering and affliction come to believers and unbelievers alike, in many shapes and forms, and yet with different purposes. In the life of the one who believes in Jesus Christ, suffering and affliction is a tool that God uses to draw His people closer to Himself (Hos. 6:1-3; Heb. 4:15-16), to increase their trust in Him (2 Cor. 1:9), to teach them (Psalm 119:67, 71), to discipline them (Heb. 12:7-11), to allow them to share in Christ’s sufferings (Phil. 3:8-11; 2 Tim. 1:8), and to allow them to identify with and comfort others (2 Cor. 1:2-7) – to name a few. It is not for punishment. Christ took every ounce of punishment for those who place their trust in Him. And it is not arbitrary or meaningless (2 Cor. 4:16-18). The life and death of Jesus gives meaning to even the most minute and mundane things. God always seems to be a million things at once in our lives, so whatever circumstances we may find ourselves in, they are not pointless.

These are the things that God is reminding me as my husband and I face a painful loss. Death visited us again in January. This time in a way that is harder to understand and express. About a month ago, Daniel and I found out we were pregnant. We were excited (and scared), but so thankful for such a quick answer to prayer. And, suddenly, before we could even begin to wrap our minds around this little gift of life, it was over. At 8 weeks (a week ago today), I miscarried. The talk of painting one of the bedrooms for a nursery, guessing if it would be a boy or girl, and already beginning to care for this tiny addition to our family was all over in an instant.

But God is faithful and He is near. He is not a God who is far away and is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses and sufferings. The Bible says He is close to the broken-hearted (Psalm 34:18). In fact, He entered into and identified with our sufferings by sending His Son, Jesus. Jesus was called a Man of Sorrows (Isaiah 53:3). He was tempted in every way were are, yet He did not sin (Hebrews 4:15). He knows intimately what we are going through and He has been very near to us, pursuing us through His Word and through His people and surrounding us with His presence.

In fact, God began pursuing my heart and preparing me for this loss in the days leading up to the miscarriage (and the days following). Through songs and Bible reading and the radio and the devotional I am reading, He has been calling me to do one thing: Praise (the one thing that doesn’t come naturally in times like these. No matter what would happen with the baby (because by the time last weekend came, we knew there was something wrong), God was asking me to trust Him and to commit to praise Him. He was asking me to adopt the words of Job as my own. Job lost all his possession, his ten children, his heath, and his status in the blink of an eye. And yet this is how he responded:

Then Job arose and tore his robe and shaved his head and fell on the ground and worshiped. And he said, “Naked I came from my mother's womb, and naked shall I return. The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.” Job 1:20-21

God asked me to do the same. As I was listening to the Shane and Shane song below, God was essentially ask me, “Will you praise me no matter what? Are you willing to worship me even when I take away?” My heart, although trembling, cried out a firm Yes. I choose to trust You, Lord. I choose to remember that Your ways are higher and thoughts are greater, and that You will not withhold from me anything that is good for me.”

I am currently studying through the Psalms, and even there God was beckoning me to praise Him:

“Praise the Lord! Praise the name of the Lord, give praise, O servants of the Lord…Praise the Lord, for the Lord is good; sing to His name, for it is pleasant.” Psalm 135:1, 3
“Give thanks to the Lord, for He is good, His steadfast love endures forever.” Psalm 136:1

So, with God’s help and strength, that is what Daniel and I have been trying to do. We don’t pretend to understand why we had a miscarriage. We don’t pretend that this isn’t hard or painful, because it is very much so. We don’t pretend we haven’t been tempted to self-pity or bitterness or envy because we have (or, at least, I have). But we do choose to take God at His Word and trust that He is working in such dark circumstances and that He is in control of life and death and that He will work in and through this for our good. And I have no doubt that God will use this loss to make the love and message of Jesus shine brightly in our lives. I have already seen signs of Him doing so. 

Music and the Mind

I need more music in my life. Seriously. I used to listen to music more in my car. I used to have a song in my head. I used to sing more. I have noticed the past year or so that this hasn't been true of me. I often leave the radio off in the car. I have been cleaning in silence (though sometimes listening to a sermon). So, I got to thinking, I need to listen to more music. It helps settle my thoughts. It helps set my mind on things above, like Colossians 3 tells me to do. It makes me more aware of Jesus as I go about my day. And, often, Jesus uses music as a means to speak words of comfort to me.

To help with this, I recently burned three CDs from my iTunes account to listen to while in the car. I have lots of CDs in my car, but none of them have been appealing to me (which is a surprise - I used to be able to always listen to some Third Day). I guess I have just been needed something with deeper lyrics and more complex melodies than what I have had available to me on my drive. So, enter Sojourn and Indelible Grace music. They have been playing in my car for a few weeks now, and it has been good for me. I have also turned on music while I have been cooking or cleaning.

Music not only raises my soul to praise and focus on the One who truly matters (Jesus Christ), it also helps me to obey the command to think about things that are true and lovely and commendable (Philippians 4:8) and helps me to keep a better perspective on the difficult circumstances in my life. Of course, music is not the cure all. It is just a means. Jesus is the cure all. But He does choose to work through things and people to draw us to Himself and to renew our minds.

I was reminded last night about how much my mind needed to be renewed while reading yesterday's devotional from John Piper's Solid Joys app. He talked about the "remarkable" power of the mind to choose what it wants to think about. He says "what you set your mind on determines whether the issue is life or death." He got this from Romans 8:5-6 where the Apostle Paul says that to set the mind on the things of God results in life, but to set the mind on worldly things results in death. So it's really important what we set our minds on, what we think about. Piper talked about the need to be proactive in what we think about and not passive. It's easy to be passive. It's harder to be diligent in our thinking; to not think about the messiness around us and dwell on all the things that are going wrong.

In reading this, I was convicted. No wonder I haven't had a song to sing. No wonder I have been down at times. I am focused too much on what I don't like about this city or my job or my life, rather than all of the good things about living here or working where I do or the blessings that God has lavished upon me. Perspective changes everything. God knows this. This is why He repeatedly commands us to think about things that are above and to entrust Him with our cares and meditate on His promises of future grace and to remember everything that He has done for us. Yes, this life can be ugly. Yes, this world is messed up. But God has a plan and purpose for everything single thing we experience as believers. He is working in and through these things for good, and He promises to make all things new (Isaiah 48:6; Revelation 21:5). Look for evidences of His grace around you. I guarantee you He is at work and you will find His fingerprints in the most unlikely places. And when you do, you may even want to sing about it.

Death Changes Everything

Death changes everything. It interrupts daily life. It changes relationships. It alters family traditions. It leaves an unfillable void. Nothing seems to be the same in its wake. And, as time goes on, it seems as if you see how much impact the death of a loved one has on the entire family.

Yesterday, was my Grandma Hovis's funeral (dad's mom). And, even though it was her funeral, I mourned more for my dad than for her. There were too many similarities: same funeral home, same preacher, and same graveyard. It's amazing what still catches me off guard and brings me to tears regarding my dad. I knew how the service would go for the most part, but I wasn't prepared for these words in my Grandma's obituary, which was read out loud: "Proceeded in death by...Gary Hovis." I lost it. It was such a stark reminder of what seems to be not fair - parents burying their children - and of my own personal loss. My grandparents, though, have buried three children and lost numerous other relatives over the years. They were, unfortunately, well acquainted with loss and grief.

My grandma: Naomi Hovis (1923-2016)

My Grandma Hovis professed to be a believer in Jesus Christ, so she, like my dad, finally has her Reward. We can all mourn with hope because she is not gone forever. She is experiencing no more suffering and no more pain. And she has her mind back (oh the joy!). She has been reunited with all those whom she knew who were also believers. They are all rejoicing together as they worship Jesus Christ and rest in His glorious presence. More than seeing lost loved ones, more than escaping this messed up world, more than experiencing wholeness and healing and sinlessness and relief, the true prize of Heaven is being with Jesus and experiencing unbroken and unending fellowship with Him; of seeing Him face to face in all of His glory.

Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God. Matthew 5:8
Well done, good and faithful servant...enter into the joy of your Master. Matthew 25:23
In [God's] presence, there is fullness of joy; at [God's] right hand are pleasures forevermore. Psalm 16:11
"Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be His people, and God Himself with be with them as their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall me no more, neither shall there me mourning nor crying nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away...Behold, I am making all things new." Revelation 21:3-5

So I don't know how things will change in my family now that my grandma is gone. There is much healing to be done. For my grandpa, who was married to her for 66 years, everything has changed. He' the one I feel for most. He can't stay by himself, so not only is his wife and companion gone, but he also has a different caregiver and different home. Things will never be the same for him. Pray for him, please.

In some ways, the Hovis family is still reeling and healing from the loss of my dad (over two years ago now). Relationships look different than they did then. There is more bickering and more bitterness and more interpersonal conflict, it seems, among the siblings. People just don't seem to be as close, and it makes my heart sad. I am not saying that my dad made his family perfect, but he did seem to be a stabilizer or peacemaker of sorts. He had a way of speaking wisdom and clarity into situations. He also spoke his mind. And I am sure he would have some things to say about the turmoil that is happening within different families in the Hovis clan. But, I cannot change how things are and I shouldn't mourn over what could be. God, in His great wisdom and grace, has seen fit to ordain things the way He has. I cannot hope in my family or in situations getting better, but I can hope in the One who makes all things new and who can bring wholeness out of brokenness. He has a plan for me and my relatives - for all of us. Let us seek Him first and He will take care of these other things. Maybe (and hopefully) God will use these losses to turn many hearts in my family to Him. Oh what a day that will be!

2016: A World of Possibilities

A new year is upon us. Usually, I enter a new year with the bright hope of new possibilities and opportunities and lofty goals. But not this year. Instead of feeling anticipation, I feel apathetic and maybe even dread. I am not sure why exactly – though usually it’s rooted in a lack of trust in the Lord. Even though Daniel and I were celebrating two years since our first date, I couldn’t help but think about how the year before that my family and I were at a hospital in Missouri receiving news that my dad’s cancer was terminal. My family is at a hospital in Missouri again this New Year’s. This time with the news that my grandma had a heart attack and is not expected to live much longer. I think these painful things have clouded my view and expectation of the good possibilities that lie ahead. Although 2016 will have it’s share of trials and pain to be sure, it will also be filled with many of God’s sweet graces.

Another factor in my lack of excitement, I think, is this new stage of life I am in. I used to be working towards something career-wise and spent a lot of time in ministry. Life looks different now. I am not working towards a career or long-term ministry goal, and I am not as busy with ministry commitments as I used to be. Some of this is because I have a husband to serve and spend time with (which, of course, I want to do), and some of this is due to the fact I am still figuring out what it looks like to serve Jesus here in Pittsburgh.

For my New Year’s post last year, I talked about having an open mind and heart to what direction the Lord wanted to take Daniel and me. Little did I know how much I would struggle in surrendering my will to the Lord last year. It took most of the year for me to lay down my desires for the future at the feet of Jesus and entrust them to His care. Whether it was thinking about motherhood or how I wanted to serve in ministry or where I wanted to live and serve with Daniel – all had to be surrendered, knowing that God’s purposes and plans are always better than mine, even if I can’t recognize or comprehend that truth in the moment. But Jesus gives us the grace we need to do the things He wants (Philippians 2:12-13). He wants us to give ourselves completely to Him. He wants us to trust Him with all that we are. So, with His strength, I told Him I would do whatever He wanted me to do and go wherever He wanted me to go. In short, I told Him that I trusted Him with the future (not that I don’t waver and have to re-surrender these things all over again).

And, really the possibilities are numerous. Daniel finishes coursework in May, takes comps in the summer, and, Lord willing, after that we really could go anywhere...in the world. Or we may wind up staying in Pittsburgh for another year or so. If I would fight to trust the Lord (the good fight of faith) and keep my hands open to whatever He gives, much joy is to be had. Because, as Daniel reminded me yesterday, what makes or breaks our year is not the circumstances we find ourselves in, but whether or not we have joy in Jesus Christ. He is joy and life and hope and peace, and that is what He offers in abundance to me and the rest of His followers. He just wants me to give myself to Him.

Furthermore, I am learning that love and sacrifice is what marriage and the Christian life are all about. As Elisabeth Elliot says, marriage is about “my life for yours.” I obviously didn’t know what doors would open and close when I married Daniel, but I did commit to follow him wherever the Lord led him and to support him in whatever vocation and ministry God granted him. Surrendering my vision for the future is part of dying to myself so that I can better love and support and serve Daniel. Jesus gave Himself over to death for the welfare of His people, and He calls His people to do that for Him and others. Life is to be both Christ-centered and others-centered. And we can only live out this calling as believers in Jesus who are dependent on His Holy Spirit. Let these words shape your heart this new year. I pray they do mine.

Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others. Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. Philippians 2:3-8