“Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.

Philippians 4:8 (ESV)

People can come back. Even those who have strayed far from God. They can.

God is in control. He is. He can do anything. Anything.

Pray for the ones you know who are far away, or who are struggling. Let them know you are praying for them (and, of course, really pray). It’s both very easy, and very hard. It’s warfare.

Let them know you miss them.

Leave the ninety-nine and go find the one. Sometimes the one is just waiting to be rescued.

Don’t ever lose hope. Never. Love always hopes.

We don’t see everything that’s really happening. We don’t see what springs into action when we pray. How could we?

We only see a very small percentage of reality. By design. But God sees it all.

Our patience is very thin. His is as wide and deep as the ocean. His purposes will be accomplished through the ages and the wheeling of the galaxies. If he has chosen to start a work in someone, he is faithful to complete it, though we might not be able to see it.

When we are discouraged, we can think of him, our great encourager – the one who fills us with courage. He is the commendable, excellent, praiseworthy one. Love hopes all things and believes all things, not because love is gullible, but because love hopes in the One who makes all things possible. There is no other One who we can turn to with that assurance.

So keep praying and keep hoping. And fill your mind with what is true, and just, and honorable, and praiseworthy, and excellent.

That’s my intention.

Finally, my brothers, rejoice in the Lord.

– Philippians 3:1a (ESV)

It’s a straightforward statement. Aside from the humor I see in the fact that Paul says “Finally” here and then launches into another topic – he revisits “finally” in chapter 4, verse 8 (man, I love Paul! 🙂 – I find this to be a profound sentence.

Notice what he doesn’t say: “I hope you have joy in the Lord.” Or “May God bless you so that you have joy” (though God certainly does that).

He says, simply, “rejoice”. It’s a command.

In the midst of all our luxury and plenty, freedom and opportunity, we certainly can complain, can’t we? We’re experts at it.

And yet the command is to rejoice, not complain! A complaint carries with it a sense of misplaced privilege, and an entirely unmerited claim to entitlement. A complaint is the astonishment of a selfish soul when it discovers that it isn’t, in fact, God.

Joy, on the other hand, is the delighted response – a choice, mind you – of the heart when the fact of one’s own unworthiness is uncovered, when the smallness of who we are compared to the Lord is made clear to our minds, and we realize the utter grace with which each breath is drawn. We are not destroyed! In fact, if we know Christ, we are beloved children of the King of the Universe, adopted and redeemed.

It’s when we place that in towering perspective against our own small and petty trials, claims, and conceits that complaints die away and joy takes root.

Joy is a practice. And when life comes crashing down, and our world crumbles around us, it’s a choice we can still make, if we have trained our hearts to sing its song.

When my world crumbles, may I respond with joy, beyoond the comprehension of a world that slouches in darkness.

Not that I have already obtained this or am already perfect, but I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own. Brothers, I do not consider that I have made it my own. But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus. Let those of us who are mature think this way, and if in anything you think otherwise, God will reveal that also to you. Only let us hold true to what we have attained.

– Philippians 3:12-16 (ESV)

Focus . . .

You can almost hear the strong footfalls.

Pressing on . . .

The labored and yet full breaths being drawn and then exhaled, almost like laughter; the sturdy beat of the heart . . .

I will be teaching this passage this Sunday in the GAP class. I haven’t really started studying it, but upon this most recent reading I am struck by the immediacy of the language, by the beautiful mix of humility and confidence (yes, they can go together!), by the life that pushes through the dead page.

I’m hit with the athletic flow of the words, with the fluid strength of the theme espoused by Paul. I’m intrigued and emboldened by the future and the past that is encased in this passage, as in this single statement:

“I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own.”

I press on, because Christ has made me his own. I have not obtained perfection, but yet I hold true to what I have attained. God has won the victory, and I run, joyfully and with strength and confidence derived only from the one from whom those heavenly characteristics, in their purest forms, flow.

And if you don’t feel this way (as I often don’t) you just haven’t grasped the truth yet.

Yet.

“and if in anything you think otherwise, God will reveal that also to you.”

There’s really no question in the matter anymore. God has done it all. You have attained the victory that Christ won for you.

Now.

Run!