God rewrote the text of my life
when I opened the book of my heart to his eyes

(Psalm 18:24, The Message).

            I seldom use The Message for personal Bible study or quotes, but when I came across the above phrase, the writer in me responded with a hearty “Yes!”

            Can anyone relate? Have you ever caught yourself bumbling along, trying to orchestrate your life, order your steps, direct your future—and then stopped and asked yourself, “What was I thinking?”

            We are not the captain of our own ship or the master of our own fate, but we sure act like it sometimes, don’t we? Oh, I know, before we become Christians we actually believe that we are and live accordingly. Then we come face to face with the Savior, turn our lives over to Him, and we never make that foolish mistake again. Right?

            Well, theoretically, we don’t. And most of the time, not intentionally. But unless I’m different than every other believer on planet earth, we do slip into that faulty thinking on occasion. And oh, what a mess we can make of things! Those self-written chapters of our lives are made up of text we’d like to delete, aren’t they?

            Psalm 8:24 holds the secret to the edit button. Though we can’t go back and erase what we’ve already written, if we will be honest with God about the foolishness and regret in our heart, He can (and will) rewrite the text of our lives. Though the sins and mistakes of the past may still have consequences today, we can be assured that the God of the universe will somehow bring good out of even the worst pages of our past.

            As a writer, I know how easy it is to go off on a self-imposed tangent, to become distracted and get off-track. The result is poorly written material and lots of wasted time. But just as God has so graciously redeemed my poor writing and wasted time, so He will redeem and rewrite the text of our lives if we will just open our hearts to him and allow Him to finish our book for us.

He is, after all, the Author and Finisher of our faith.

“Has the LORD as great delight in burnt offerings and sacrifices,
As in obeying the voice of the LORD?
Behold, to obey is better than sacrifice”

(1 Samuel 15:22, NKJV).

            Obedience. It’s a word I’ve struggled with since I was a toddler. No one knew that better than my parents. I flopped my toe across every line they drew in front of me—and I nearly always paid a price for my disobedience. But at 26 I became a Christian. Surely disobedience wouldn’t be a problem any longer…right?

            Wrong. I still struggle with it to this day, though I know I’ve made a lot of progress—not because I’m faithful but because God is. I’ve learned this “obedience thing” is a lifelong process, and God is committed to teaching us how to walk in it.

            There are reasons for that, one of them being that when we walk in obedience, God does amazing things through us. I used to think it was some sort of magical formula: I’d obey God, and He’d reward me with something wonderful. Wrong again. (I suppose I’ve been slow in understanding this concept because, somehow, I still think it’s all about me. I’m the only one who’s ever thought that, right?)

            And then a couple of days ago I came across the journal my mom was using just before she died. She filled scores of them through the years, but this one is especially meaningful, as it gives me a glimpse into her thoughts and prayers, her communication with God in her last days on earth. The final entry, in her shaky handwriting, reads, “Obedience is the key word of miracles. Sometimes we feel prompted by God to do something that makes no sense, but if we do it, it becomes a miracle.”

            Wow. Mom was 90 years old when she penned those words, and she had no idea how they would bless me after she was gone. I now have them in the top drawer of my desk, where I can pull them out and read them often—each time I’m tempted to flop my toe across God’s line. Do I need a miracle in my life, either for myself or someone else? Most of the time, I do. And now I know the key to seeing that miracle come to pass: be obedient to that still, small voice inside that prompts us to obey God, whether it makes sense at the moment or not. God, in His faithfulness, will accomplish the rest.

There is therefore now no condemnation to those who are in Christ Jesus,

who do not walk according to the flesh, but according to the Spirit

(Romans 8:1, NKJV).

            One of the very first Bible verses I learned as a new believer (decades ago!) was Romans 8:1. I read and heard many others, of course, but that one truly jumped out at me, I suppose because as a brand new born-again Christian, I was so freshly aware of all that God had done for me. That He had not only forgiven me but personally paid an unimaginable price to do so still left me in awe—which, of course, is a good thing. We should never cease to be amazed that God willingly gave everything for those of us who deserved nothing.

            And yet, to keep that in perspective, I still have to remind myself that His forgiveness is so much greater than any of my sins, failures, or poor choices that required that forgiveness. Somehow I have little problem resolving the fact that His once-for-all sacrifice covers my “B.C.” (before Christ) sins, but I struggle more with my “after Christ” failures. I’m a believer now; I have the Spirit of God living inside me, and I should know better…right?

            Right. Yes, I should. And deep down, I do. Still, I must remind myself daily that I am one of God’s “WIPs,”—a Work in Progress—and He’s far from through with me. (Are you as glad about that as I am???) Though I love the familiar (and true) statement that God loves me just the way I am, I also know He loves me too much to leave me that way.

            Though I cling to the truth of Romans 8:1, meaning there is NOW no condemnation toward me regardless of my sins and failures, I also need to beware of using that promise as an excuse to stop growing in Christ. Our goal and purpose as believers is to continually draw closer to the Father and become more like Jesus, and we do that through an ongoing yielding of our will to the nudging of the Holy Spirit within us—“not walk[ing] according to the flesh, but according to the Spirit.” When we do that, the Spirit of God bears witness with our spirit that we are indeed His children and are no longer under condemnation.

            If you’re struggling with that today—and we all do at times—ask God’s Spirit to search your heart and show you anything that needs to be confessed or relinquished to God—and then do it. The result will be a heart that KNOWS it is free of condemnation. And, beloved, what could be better than that?

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
         I will fear no evil;
         For You are with me (Psalm 23:4, NKJV).

            I’m one of those overly responsible people who takes on WAY too much and then feels guilty when I can’t do it all and/or things don’t turn out as expected. (Can anyone out there relate?) And nothing brought that truth closer to home than when my mom passed away a few months ago.

            When my dad died twelve years earlier, I promised him on his deathbed that I would take care of Mom. To the best of my ability, I fulfilled that promise. However, after she died I found myself second-guessing every decision I made during her last months/weeks/days—even hours—of life. Could I have done more to make her more comfortable, prolong her life, ease her concerns, meet her needs?

            The answer is that I might have—or not. I never came to a clear answer on those questions, I’m afraid, though I have been assured by many that I cared for her well and honored her end-of-life wishes, which she had clearly stated in writing. Still, my mind drifts back to those last minutes when I knew she was slipping away, and I think things like: Why didn’t I pray with her more, read her more scriptures, sing her favorite hymns, whisper more words of reassurance?

            As I wrestled with those questions one day, the Lord took me straight to Psalm 23 and pointed out to me that I was trying to usurp His place. I’m the One who walks with my children through the Valley of the Shadow of Death, carrying them if need be. It isn’t your job. Leave it alone.

            Since then I have come to realize how often I overstep my bounds and try to do for others what only God can do. Meeting our responsibilities is a good thing; going beyond that is a step of arrogance that says I can step into God’s shoes and do His job.

            Whoa! That realization continues to stop me short when I find myself trying to “fix” people or situations. We may excuse that behavior and even consider ourselves extraordinary people for trying to achieve such results. But the bottom line is, God is the only One who saves and keeps us, who heals and carries us—even through the Valley of the Shadow of Death. May we learn to walk in humility before Him and do only what He has called and equipped us to do…in His Name.

And God saw the light, that it was good;

and God divided the light from the darkness (Genesis 1:4, NKJV).

            With the dawn of another new year, I found myself back in Genesis, once again reading the glorious creation account. What a story! Unequaled in splendor or drama, we see our amazing God speak all of creation into existence—including light and darkness. And immediately after creating light, the Scriptures tell us that God “saw the light, that it was good,” and then He “divided the light from the darkness.”

            Perhaps that statement could simply stand on its own—meaning that God provided for both day and night—but several other verses of Scripture (2 Corinthians 6:14; Ephesians 5:11; 1 John 1:5-6) declare that God is Light, that there is no darkness in Him at all, and that we, as His children, should also walk in the light and have no darkness within ourselves.

            Now we know that we can’t avoid those who belong to the kingdom of darkness, nor should we, as we are called to shine the light on them and to help them find their way out of that darkness and back to God. But shining our light to dispel darkness is a far cry from stepping into and fellowshipping with that darkness. It is a distinction we dare not ignore as we move into a new year of serving God and living for Him.

            I’m not much for New Year’s resolutions, as they usually fall by the wayside somewhere around mid-February. But this year I am determined to spend more time in the presence of the One who is Light and in whom there is absolutely no darkness at all. As a result, I believe His light will shine more brightly in me and will more effectively draw those who are lost in darkness. The worst thing I could do is to become enmeshed in even the slightest bit of that darkness myself and therefore prevent others from seeing it.

            That is my determination for 2012, and I pray you will join me. Jesus said He was the Light of the world, but once He ascended into heaven He left the shining of that light to us. Will you join me in this determination to let our light shine in the darkness? I will pray for you to do so; will you also pray for me? For when God saw the light, He immediately declared that it was good.