What strikes me about this is that Paul and Silas praised and worshiped after a brutal assault and unjust arrest. They must have been in agonizing pain from the flogging. Not only that, but their jailer fastened their feet in the stocks which meant that they couldn’t move to alleviate awkward or painful positions.

What can we in the West, who know little about such persecution, learn from this passage? How can we relate?

I would say that there are many kinds of prisons in life that test our faith. Let me list some:

• Imprisoned by chronic pain
• Imprisoned in an unsuitable career
• Imprisoned by unemployment or debt
• Imprisoned in an unequally yoked relationship
• Imprisoned by anxiety over a wayward child
• Imprisoned in grief over the loss of a loved one

Do we think about praise and worship in the midst of these kinds of situations? Why not? Perhaps it’s because our testing place tempts us to lose perspective, to focus only our our pain and discomfort. Amazingly, Paul and Silas do not drown in the pain of their suffering. Instead, they keep their focus on something that far transcends their current situation. Eternity.

We ought to be encouraged by their example. Something very powerful and glorious happens when God’s people sing His praises from behind the bars of life’s prisons. For one thing, I can think of no better remedy to soften an unforgiving heart. There’s something about stepping into the purifying light coming from the throne of God that exposes the darkness within.

In Paul and Silas’s case, relief came quickly in the form of an earthquake and a repentant jailer who washed their wounds. However, as our experience proves, praise is not a formula for quick answers to our dilemmas. But of one thing I’m certain, whatever the nature of our prison, God is greatly pleased when in the midst of challenging circumstances we choose to sing His praises.

And one more thing. The passage says that the other prisoners listened as Paul and Silas sang. People in our vicinity will also be drawn to us when they hear notes of praise despite our suffering. In those moments, we are the miracle God uses to transform lives.

Jesus begins by telling his disciples a story to illustrate “that they should always pray and not give up.” In this tale, a woman continually pesters an unjust judge. The judge finally does what she asks, but only because he’s tired of her nagging, not because he cares about doing the right thing.

The Contrast

Jesus then contrasts the self-serving judge to God. He insists that God will not keep putting off his chosen ones but will bring about justice quickly. But his chosen ones also experience waiting. Therefore, Jesus must mean that required waiting does not infer anything about God’s promptness. That instead, God acts as quickly as is possible in light of all considerations in the matter. God sees and knows things we cannot possibly comprehend.

Jesus knows that waiting creates a huge challenge for us. When forced to wait, especially during times of suffering, we have trouble trusting God’s good intentions towards us. Isn’t unanswered prayer the gnarly point where faith so easily breaks down? So even as Jesus assures his disciples that the Father’s just and speedy action is on the way, is what we can bank on, He probes our hearts with this question, “When the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on the earth?” In other words, will believers continue in faith even if it looks like Jesus is taking a long time to return? And the more subtle question He’s asking, “Will we treasure God in our hearts as a good and righteous judge as we endure what looks like inattention and delay regarding things of utmost importance to us?”

Our Faulty Perceptions

Jesus knows our tendency is to see God like the unjust judge, someone who needs to be pestered before, out of sheer exhaustion, He gives in. However, Jesus couldn’t begin to comprehend such a skewed perception of the Father. To gain more insight into Luke’s passage, let’s examine our beginnings in the Garden of Eden. Here we can gain insight into why something is clearly wrong with our ability to perceive God accurately.

People like to think they doubt God’s goodness because of all the chaos, evil and suffering in the world. But consider that Eve had not yet experienced any evil to influence her perceptions. She did not suffer from woundedness or past unpleasant experiences that might have caused her to suspect that God isn’t good. She lived in a perfect, harmonious environment and enjoyed an intimate, face-to-face relationship with God. Yet she still bought into Satan’s lies. Our enemy has been on a smear campaign from the beginning, always out to make God look bad.

Blaming God

Just as an aside here, how many times have you heard a believer complain about how mad they were at the devil because of all the suffering in their lives? I never have. But I hear believers express outrage at God for not doing anything to alleviate their pain. I’ve been there too. Interesting, isn’t it? The one who really should be blamed, somehow isn’t.

Anyway, Eve fell for the scam because she wanted what God was apparently “withholding”—knowledge of good and evil. But what if the Tree of Good and Evil was forbidden because we weren’t created to be able to handle this knowledge, at least not in the way Eve attained it? And what if Adam and Eve had honored God and obeyed? Perhaps God’s plan was to teach them pure-sighted discernment over time in ways they could increasingly handle before He allowed them to eat from the tree.

The Problem with the Knowledge Gained

And here’s another consideration. Did Adam and Eve actually attain God’s knowledge of good and evil? Hardly. Instead, through our first parents we gained Satan’s influence over how we view good and evil. This understanding alone should make us question our accusations against God. How are we possibly in any position to judge Him when our perceptions are “under the influence”?

Ever since Eve, we humans have been putting God on trial, judging Him for all the problems in the world. But if we really knew God the way Jesus did, we’d be incapable of considering the idea that our Father has anything less than the best, most stellar intentions towards us. We’d be incapable of thinking God isn’t powerful enough to rescue us or that He simply refuses to care. If we knew God the way Jesus did, it would be unthinkable to imagine that the evil in our circumstances have anything relevant to say about God. We would be like a boy in war who knows his daddy is doing everything possible to come home. He trusts that there is a “good reason” for any delays. It wouldn’t enter his mind to attribute bad character to his dad; he steadfastly sees only good because he knows his dad.

A Humble Heart

It takes humility to admit that our perceptions may be skewed, to admit that we are in no position to judge God. In our fallen state, we have no business going there, whether judging God or anyone else, for that matter. Discernment, yes. Discernment means we allow God to filter our thoughts in a matter rather than making the call independently. Such humility brings freedom and peace.

As His eyes wander to and fro over the earth, will the Son of Man find faith alive in you and me? Or will He be disappointed because we’re mired in our faulty perceptions of God?

Our ten-year-old Honda bore, not-so-proudly, several dings and dents for which I was mostly responsible. Last February Hubby took me along to buy a brand new car, a red hot Toyota Camry which I affectionately named Val (for Valentine). Oh, I so fell in love with that car. I vowed with a most delighted and grateful heart to always be extra alert so that she would never experience a bump or scratch all her lived long days.

Now you must know that I’ve been very proud of a technique I perfected in backing out my garage. We have a long driveway that requires backing into a street with limited visibility. To avoid this, I practiced a backward U-turn within my three-car-wide driveway. That way I could approach the street frontwards which is safer, right? My maneuver was brilliantly calculated to keep Val’s rear and a brick wall from an unfortunate chance meeting.

Proudly, I demonstrated my innovative solution to our driveway challenges with Hubby. See how it avoids backing into traffic, wouldn’t you like to try it, and wasn’t it the best thing ever? He just smiled and shook his head.

“Why not?” I goaded him.

“I just don’t want to do it,” he said.

“You don’t ever want to admit when I have a good idea,” I pouted. And the more I encouraged him to try it, the more he continued to STUBBORNLY refuse. Men!

About a month ago our son, Tim, came home and the two of us had to go somewhere. Expertly I backed Val into the U-turn.

Tim erupted, “Mom. I can’t believe you do that.”

“Why? I know EXACTLY where I am—I have the maneuver down pat.”

“I don’t know,” he sputtered. “It’s just not right somehow.”

He continued to gasp and make funny noises while I just tossed my head and said, “I know what I’m doing!”

Not long afterwards, Hubby had his good friend, Tony, over to watch a movie. I was getting bored studying and needed to somehow motivate myself to keep reading my book. So I decided it would be better to read on the treadmill at the club than remain scrunched up in a chair for another hour. Please consider:

• It was at the end of the day and I was tired. Very tired.
• It was DARK out. Extremely dark.

So I tossed my book on the front seat, started the car, and pressed the garage door opener. With the foot on the gas, and turning the wheel into a precise 90 degree angle…I glanced in the rear view mirror. All clear. Slowly, please note, SLOWLY, I began my backward U-turn.

BAM!

Oh crap, what could it possibly be? It couldn’t be the brick wall—I didn’t get that far!

Oh no, crap, crap, crap. No, no…not Tony’s car!!!

I took another look. Alas, it was all too true—there she sat, Val’s rear smacked sweetly against the parked vehicle’s side door. I couldn’t believe it.

Had I backed out in a straight-forward manner all would have been well because Tony parked correctly in the third car lane. But no, I had to utilize my fancy U-turn.

How was I going to tell the guys? As I sat, stunned, wondering what to do next, suddenly the front door flew open and there stood Hubby and his friend.

“Did you not remember Tony was here?”

I mumbled something.

“I heard the garage door go up and had no way to warn you,” Hubby said with a grave look. “Watched the whole thing from the upstairs window.”

Oh great. I had an audience for my worst airhead moment ever.

Tony sauntered over to examine the not-small dent in his car. “It was an accident,” he said. “Could’ve happened to anyone.”

“I’m so terribly sorry.” Were any words adequate enough to express how badly I felt about this? Or how stupid?

“Hey,” Tony said. “I shouldn’t have parked here.” Gallant, but not so.

“We will see that your car gets repaired,” both Hubby and I assured him.

“It’s an old car. I don’t even care,” Tony said.

The guys began to joke and kid around between themselves with smirks and furtive looks in my direction. Well, maybe not so gallant…

But all in all, I have to say, what gentlemen! Both my Hubby and Tony. Not one irate word. All very calm and above the matter. As insurance would have it, Tony will come out okay, and thankfully, our premiums will increase not nearly as much as Hubby had feared.

Later Hubby moaned, “And Val not even a year old!” She, just one week shy of her one-year anniversary, retains a crack and slight indentation, but it’s hardly noticeable. Sadly, Hubby doesn’t think she’s worth fixing since a certain person in the family is not a reliable driver, and why invest in a worthless cause, eh?

Me, I’m properly humbled. Sad, too—my pretty car no longer perfect. Sniff.

Tim’s premonition was vindicated. His comment: “Forgot the up-on-one-cheek rule, huh, Mom?”

P.S. Tim recently sent me the following thinking this might give his mother hope with her backing up issues:

From Slashdot.org:
“Every year around 17,000 people are injured and over 200 die in backover accidents involving cars, trucks and SUVs. Now the Chicago Tribune reports that the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration will send Congress a proposal mandating a rearview camera for all passenger vehicles starting in 2014. ‘Adoption of this proposal would significantly reduce fatalities and injuries caused by backover crashes involving children, persons with disabilities, the elderly and other pedestrians,’ says NHTSA in its proposal. But the technology won’t come cheap. In its study, the NHTSA found that adding a backup camera to a vehicle without an existing visual display screen will probably cost $159 to $203 per vehicle, shrinking to between $58 and $88 for vehicles that already use display screens. Toyota of Albany Sales manager Kelvin Walker says he believes making backup cameras standard on cars made after 2014 is a good idea. ‘If you want to get a backup camera with a mirror in it now, it may cost you $700 to $800 as an additional dealer option or you have to purchase a navigation which is about $1,500 to $1,600. So $1,600 compared to $200? You do the math.’” (By Hugh Pickens)

This is quite an amazing phrase to ponder. Can it really be true that love always succeeds? Even when we’ve been rejected despite our best efforts to love? What does it actually mean that “love never fails”?

Let’s look at the evidence to support this statement. Here is how I reason why God and love are sure to win in the end:

Love aligns itself with truth. It sees clearly. Paul says that “Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth” (I Cor. 13:6). However, evil is blinded by lies. The farther a person travels into sin, the more the inner eye becomes clouded and the more he or she distorts reality. You see this with addicts, for example.

Hitler, Napoleon, and Alexander the Great, in blind arrogance and pride, all made serious tactical errors that stopped them in their mad rush to conquer the world.
Likewise, Satan’s pride, hatred and rage which drove him to kill Jesus, kept him from seeing that he was actually setting up his own defeat. Because his evil nature always distorts truth, he was unable to even remotely comprehend how Christ’s death might bring down the kingdom of hell. In case you doubt Satan’s lack of knowledge here, remember that he was a fallen angel. Even faithful angels have trouble understanding salvation and “long to look into these things” (I Peter 1:12).

Like Hitler and Napoleon, will not the Beast and the AntiChrist ultimately make similar mistakes in their battle against God? Given their natures, it’s not possible they will retain clear judgment in the long run. God will prevail because He is Truth; He is the ultimate Reality and therefore cannot make errors. And if God wins, love wins because God is love.

This logic may help us see why God’s love wins, but how can we apply this truth to our own disappointing experiences, when it appears that all our efforts to love somehow make no difference? The promise that “love never fails” does not mean that faithfully loving God’s way will magically produce the results we want. No one loved like Jesus, and He ended up rejected. However, His defeat brought about the greatest triumph in the history of mankind. As we walk with our Lord, cannot our defeats-despite-faithfulness when loving someone be gloriously redeemed as well?

So when Paul writes that love never fails, we see a new depth to this truth and its possibilities. This should greatly encourage us in our daily lives. We can become “weary in doing good,” especially when faced with much opposition. However, the pure beauty of agape love is never diminished or cheapened by ridicule, rejection, or false accusations. When love is the real thing, it’s untouchable in the spiritual realm, a priceless gem, indestructible. Such love can never be sullied, cheapened, or degraded by how it is treated.

For all who struggle to love a prodigal child or a difficult relative or feel that they are failing in some relationship despite their best efforts before God, take heart. Your efforts are surely not in vain because somehow contained in the mystery of God Himself…love cannot help but win.

Humility. Trust. No longer questioning things for which there will never be an answer. No more wrestling with mysteries that can’t be solved. No more striving to be something we’re not.

Young children already live like this. They don’t pretend to have knowledge. They don’t concern themselves with adult matters. They’re not worried about meeting their needs for shelter, food, clothes. And so they are able to live carefree and at rest.

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28). In order to rest, we must be able to trust implicitly, like a little child. The picture the Psalmist gives is of a weaned child. No longer clamoring for food that is coming anyway. No longer screaming for needs to be met. Now! Assured that all will come in due time. Stilled.

A weaned child with its mother . . . Content to know mother is near. Is it enough to know our heavenly Father is near?

Money came hard yet Mom was resourceful and creative with what she had. A little flour, sugar and eggs, scraps of fabric, needle and thread, candles and pine boughs from the tree in the yard. Year after year she managed to create a magical Christmas for my siblings and me.

One of my earliest memories is of Advent when Christmas preparations began in my home. Mom made Dad go outside and cut swags from our tree. I watched as she wove the pine-scented greenery into a wreath, added four red candles and then attached four red ribbons to suspend it from the ceiling, a German tradition.

My mother’s baking was legendary. All December she stood in the kitchen baking Pfeffernusskuchen, Anisebroetchen, Totenbeinli—prized recipes she brought with her when she immigrated. I loved how these and other goodies wafted their aromatic scent throughout the house.

She made beautiful cookie tins from empty coffee cans saved all year. She covered the cans with gold foil, added a bright bow on top and voila, you had a lovely gift for a neighbor. Neighbors and friends always welcomed her specialty cookies.

The holiday season was when my mother went out of her way to show kindness to those less fortunate. For example, each year she went out of her way to visit her previous landlord in town. Mom brought us kids for this mission—I have this image of me an eight-year-old in pigtails, my younger dimple-cheeked brother, and our three-year-old sister who, to everyone’s relief, was finally sprouting some downy blonde fuzz on her head.

Mr. Valdez would greet us at the door with his two snuffling bull dogs who always frightened me a little. He’d invite us in and we’d greet his wife’s caregiver, a cheerful, rosy-cheeked middle-aged woman.

Mrs. Valdez suffered from advanced multiple sclerosis. I remember being ushered into her bedroom where she lay frail and helpless, a nearly paralyzed, dark-haired woman in her fifties with sunken cheeks, anguished eyes, and unintelligible speech.

We’d present the cookie tin with shy smiles. Mrs. Valdez’s eyes would light up and she’d make strained sounds to communicate. And then as we began singing a Christmas carol, the sounds would turn to choking and moaning noises, and tears would roll down her cheeks. As she kept trying to speak, I felt my own throat tighten. Mom going out of her way to bring a little joy to someone easily forgotten modeled such an important lesson in compassion to us children.

Every evening Mom led us in a little devotional as Dad worked swing shift those early years. During Advent Mom helped us memorize scripture verses in preparation for Christmas Eve and then led us in singing carols: Stille Nacht. O Du Froehliche. Ihr Kinderlein Kommet. Then it would be bedtime. We had this children’s storybook, and my baby sister could never be persuaded to go to her room without first kissing the picture of King David goodnight.

My mother left behind family and friends when she came to this newly adopted country. With money too scarce to travel, it would be fifteen years after she immigrated before my Mom got the chance to visit Germany and Switzerland again.

During Advent, after we children were tucked in bed, Mom sat at her desk and wrote letters to friends and family, around sixty holiday letters a year. And no newsletters for her either. Each loved one received personalized updates according to what she thought would interest them, and she always made caring inquiries into their lives as well.

In the evenings when she wasn’t writing, she was busy at the sewing machine making doll clothes, Christmas presents for my sister and me. She and Dad worked hard in crafting decorations or gifts. Once my father built a little church with a steeple out of balsa wood, using translucent red wrapping paper for stained glass windows. After he placed a bulb in the church and turned it on, it glowed. This became a treasured Christmas decoration in our family.

My dad’s most distinguished Christmas creation, however, were the outdoor candles that graced our front door. He painted sturdy cardboard cylinders bright red and rigged light bulbs for the flames, arranging pine boughs tastefully around the base. Mom oohed and ahhed, and we kids joined in.

Last Christmas I went home and there stood the candles in their usual place by the front door. I stopped to marvel, really seeing them for the first time in years. “Wow, Dad, this is amazing—your candle decoration must be at least 40 years old now!”

“Well, I paint it occasionally to keep it looking fresh,” Dad said.

“It still looks great!” I said, smiling my admiration. Dad took the compliment with a quiet dignified nod of his head.

My parents are in their eighties and Dad will turn 90 next February. As I think about their lives, I am so grateful for the heritage they gave us. They modeled how to live with joyous resourcefulness, giving with all their hearts.

Most of all I am grateful for the gift of a loving home. We children always knew we were very much wanted and deeply loved. I can think of no greater riches.

And now you know why I get sentimental about homemade Christmases…

www.heartscribeforhim.com/CreationSpeaks2011.htm#110711

The disciples’ success came because the power of God worked through them. So quickly we take credit for what God actually did!

This verse has often reminded me how easily I slip into a wrong focus. It’s a caution against getting caught up in self-importance, Look what I just did! It’s a perspective on the truth about any accomplishment but in particular, ministry.

Now what’s wrong with being excited about success in ministry? After all, look what God did through us!

Maybe your church put on an outreach to the skateboarding community and 10 kids were saved. Or you prayed for a friend and she was healed. Or you headed up a campaign to raise enough money to build a new homeless shelter in your community.

But Jesus says, “Keep your eyes on what the real miracle is—you were lost, but now you’re found.” The joy should come not in what you do, but in the gift given—citizenship in heaven.”

Sometimes the joy of salvation seems so Christianity 101, so basic that it feels more like the milk of beginners than the meat of mature Christians. But precisely this childlike faith, joy in the gift and the Giver rather than joy in self, is a characteristic of the mature believer.

The Bible says that where our treasure is, there our hearts will be also. If salvation is truly my most prized treasure, I will not so easily succumb to the idolatry of self-worship.

Most of us, if we’ve been Christians for a while, understand that God is no geni. We trust His sovereign control and at the same time believe that He wants a real relationship with us, that He listens when we pour out our hearts to Him. But I’ve seriously questioned: Do I have genuine input; am I really being heard? Or am I just a pawn in God’s cosmic game with the universe?

For me it’s come down to faith. Believing that God is good. Believing that He’s in control. Believing that the “prayer of a righteous man is powerful and effective” (James 5:16b). And letting go of the need to figure it all out so I can simply live these truths from the heart.

How does this work on a practical level? I want to share some thoughts with you that are still formulating in my mind, so they are not perfectly organized or fully developed. However, these are thought processes that have helped my prayer life.

When thinking about prayer, it’s been most helpful to me to reflect on Christ as the head of the church, husband to bride. As I read the Bible’s instructions to men on how to interact with their wives, an image of Jesus emerges. These instructions must somehow reflect His bridegroom’s heart toward me as well:

Husband, love your wife just as I loved [insert your name] and gave myself up for her.

Husband, love your wife as you do your own body as I love [insert your name] as my own body.

Husband, love your wife and do not be harsh with her as I love [insert your name] and am never harsh with her.

Submit to one another out of reverence for me as I submit to the Father out of reverence for Him. Scriptures from Ephesians and Colossians.

Despite God’s reassuring words here, we women may still struggle in relating to Jesus as our bridegroom. We may not have experienced the perfect husband (who has?) or may have had some very negative relationships with men in the past. What kind of fears might we unconsciously transfer to the Lord?

• We may fear being controlled by our husband.
• We may fear that he won’t treat us like an equal.
• We may be concerned that he won’t be considerate of our limitations.
• We may fear that he won’t act in ours or the children’s best interest.
• We may be afraid that our husband will make important decisions without consulting us.
• We may fear that he will be harsh or unkind.
• We may fear his anger.

Do any of these resonate with you? You could probably add to this list. Do any of your fears transfer to the Lord? We might see God’s sovereignty as controlling instead of being in control with our best interests at heart. When God doesn’t answer our prayers right away, we may accuse Him of not caring. When bad things happen we may believe that God is harsh and unkind. Our experiences take place in a fallen world under less than ideal conditions, and this impacts our view of God.

As I began to picture the ideal biblical husband, I saw how I had bought into lies and distortions about God. Let me show you what I mean by attempting to define a godly husband. Keep in mind this is a limited conception, just a sketch hampered by subjectivity and cultural assumptions. However, this mental process did lead to some fruitful insights:

A godly husband would lead, not lord it over his wife. Never out of pride or selfishness would He say, “It’s my way or the highway.” He would serve the family’s best interests unselfishly. In order to serve effectively, He’d know how to listen, to really be able to hear his wife’s heart, not just her words. He would take her opinions seriously, allowing himself to be influenced. He would take responsibility for making final decisions, but he’d want his wife involved in the process. He would be extremely loyal and faithful in heart, mind, and body. At all times, He would think of his family and how his actions affect them.

Like I said, this is my vision of a godly husband, shaped by scripture. Why not write your own definition and see what this reveals about your picture of God? Be sure to write your sketch around Biblical principles of husband-wife relationships.

As I pondered my definition, I asked myself, Does Jesus invite me to talk with Him and then essentially relegates my words meaningless because he has no intention of ever considering my viewpoint? Most of us believe that this is not how good relationships work. When God gave us the picture of bride and bridegroom, or father and son, wasn’t He giving us a healthy model of reciprocal intimacy so that we’d understand how to relate to Him better? An authoritarian model does not fit with this image.

When wrestling with prayer, we get hung up on the tension between God’s sovereignty and our free will; however, I’ve decided to tackle this conundrum in strictly practical terms. I no longer need to understand how prayer works—how can a mere human ever figure this out anyway? Instead, I want to focus on doing what the Bible tells me, trusting the whys and hows to God. There are many commands that tell me to pray. Pray without ceasing, for example.

The image of bridegroom gave me a most helpful framework in understanding the Lord’s good intentions toward me when I pray:

I now choose to approach Him at the very least as I would a loving husband—one who invites me to eat my meal at his table, not relegated to another room as in some cultures, to walk side by side, not following several paces behind as a demeaned, undervalued possession. I choose to believe that He will take my input on important matters seriously, that He truly hears my heart. I come knowing He is irrevocably and forever bound to me, with a completely loyal heart. I believe that He’s in control, not selfishly controlling, that at all times my loved ones and I will be foremost in His mind, and that He carefully considers how His actions affect us.

Unlike an earthly union, we are not equal partners with God. And our prayers need a Spirit-translation before they reach our heavenly husband’s ears. But Jesus always elevates those He loves as when He said to his disciples, “I no longer call you servants, because a servant does not know his master’s business. Instead, I have called you friends, for everything that I learned from my Father I have made known to you” (John 15:15). Now there’s another picture to study as you think about how to approach God in prayer: Friend!

With such a steep standard of forgiveness, no wonder the disciples said in essence, “If this is the way things are, we need more faith!”

Why does forgiveness take faith?

First, we have to believe that when we release the offender, we can be okay. We’re essntially saying, “I trust You, Lord, to take care of my needs.” For example, imagine a woman deeply hurt by divorce. She now lives in poverty but sees that her ex buys an expensive home and takes his girlfriend on exotic vacations to places like Hawaii and Europe. She feels all the hard work she invested in her twenty-five years of marriage have left her with nothing. Will she find faith to believe that God will provide good things for her as well? That her life is valued and important even though she’s been rejected, replaced, and left destitute? That God alone is enough? Without this kind of faith, forgiveness would be very difficult.

Second, it takes faith to believe that God will act justly when we’ve brought Him our case. Romans 12:19 says,

Do not take revenge, my dear friends, but leave room for God’s wrath, for it is written: “It is mine to avenge; I will repay,” says the Lord.

Forgiveness takes faith because justice may be delayed. Not until the end, on Judgment Day, will God make all things right. However, when it appears that offenders are not held accountable, we secretly fear that God won’t judge; He won’t be fair. After all, we are well-acquainted with His mercy.

Jonah felt this way. He got so frustrated with God he wanted to die:

“Isn’t this what I said, LORD, when I was still at home? That is what I tried to forestall by fleeing to Tarshish. I knew that you are a gracious and compassionate God, slow to anger and abounding in love, a God who relents from sending calamity. Now, LORD, take away my life, for it is better for me to die than to live.”

It takes faith to forgive because this means we accept that God has a right to extend mercy to our offender. However, if we understand that the blood of Jesus bought mercy for us, why shouldn’t His sacrifice provide mercy for our offender when he repents?

As we can see, forgiveness is risky in the sense that we have no guarantee that our offender will be held accountable in the way we might demand. God asks us to trust Him completely with the right to judge and to sentence.

If we don’t like this, what’s the alternative? Carrying around the offense. All the time. Decaying on the inside as the shell of bitterness hardens more and more each year. Living in despair and hopelessness.

It is infinitely better to forgive than to rot in resentment. If releasing someone is a struggle, why not pray like the disciples: “Lord, increase my faith!”