Tuesday, August 31, 2010
This Week's Challenge
Hello ladies! At last week's Small Group, we decided to challenge ourselves to pray for one another this week, focusing on our fights to have a better relationship with God. I would love for you to share any comments about that. Maybe one or two specific things you prayed for, or how you felt after the prayer was finished.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
XP3: Not That Into You - Session 2 Devotional
Should I stay or should I go?
By Sarah Anderson
Many of you have probably heard the story of Jesus feeding the five thousand. Each of the four Gospels tells this story, or versions of this story, when Jesus, on the side of a mountain about ready to teach, decides to feed the mass of hungry people who came to hear Him. It was a big task, one that the disciples weren’t sure they could handle, but with one boy’s lunch sack of fish and bread, Jesus miraculously multiplied the food and fed each empty belly. He even made enough for leftovers. Most of what we know about this story stops here, but following the miracle, the story goes on. Not long afterwards, Jesus and the disciples cross a lake only to find more people waiting for Him on the other side. The crowd had heard what Jesus did with the bread and were thinking this was the kind of guy they could really get on board with. But their motivations and their intentions weren’t fooling Jesus—He knew what was going through their minds. He knew their flaky devotion had more to do with what He could do for them and He called them out on it. So, while still holding their attention, Jesus launches into some pretty heavy teaching—teaching that caught the crowd off guard.
The people who had been waiting on the other side of the lake listened for awhile, but it didn’t take long before they started grumbling and then arguing sharply with each other. The problem was that what Jesus was saying didn’t make a lot of sense. The people were confused, offended, and frankly, probably disappointed in what Jesus was asking of them—so much so that the Bible says many abandoned Him. They turned their backs on Him. In other words, Jesus didn’t live up to the expectations the masses had in mind, so they decided maybe He wasn’t for them after all. And, they left.
Maybe you know the feeling. Maybe you can relate to the masses. Maybe you have heard some cool stuff about this Jesus guy, and experienced some really amazing things through relationship with Him, but then all of the sudden, He asks something of you, or He confuses you, or suddenly starts to seem distant. Maybe your expectations go unmet and before you know it, you are left with a choice to make. Do you stay or do you go?
The crowds left. And I can imagine the scene was a little uncomfortable. Maybe they all left at once, or maybe one by one—as Jesus continued to baffle and bewilder. Regardless of how it happened, by the end of His teaching only twelve remained—the twelve disciples. And after the crowd disbanded, Jesus turned and asked those who lingered, “You do not want to leave too, do you?” (John 6:67 NIV). And in the substantial pause after the weighted question Peter looks at Jesus and answers, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life” (John 6:68 NIV).
Peter and the rest of the disciples heard the same message the crowd did. They probably had the same questions and dealt with the same confusion as those who walked away. But Peter vocalizes what the twelve knew and the crowd didn’t. “No one else can do what You do. No one else talks like You talk. No one else offers what You offer—not just bread to eat, but words that satisfy. We may not get You all the time. We may not understand what You want so badly for us to understand, but where else would we go, if not here? Who else would we turn to, if not to You?”
There is going to come a time when we find ourselves in the same place as the disciples did. When this happens and we get before God and confess our confusion and admit our disinterest, He asks us, “You don’t want to leave too, do you?” And this is the point where we need to make a choice—when we need to make a call. Do we really believe that Jesus holds the words of eternal life? Do we really believe it is worth sticking it out—despite our uncertainty, our confusion, our expectations? Do we really believe that this relationship—as difficult as it may be at times—is worth fighting for? And if we do, then we have the chance to say, like Peter, “Lord, to whom shall we go? I haven’t got this all figured out, but I know this. You have the words of eternal life.”
And that is a great place to start. The best place to start. Not with answers, not with clarity, not with complete and total understanding. Just a simple statement that says exactly where you are—with no place else to go, and the confidence and the faith that being with the Jesus is the best place to be.
© 2009 The reThink Group, Inc. All rights reserved.
By Sarah Anderson
Many of you have probably heard the story of Jesus feeding the five thousand. Each of the four Gospels tells this story, or versions of this story, when Jesus, on the side of a mountain about ready to teach, decides to feed the mass of hungry people who came to hear Him. It was a big task, one that the disciples weren’t sure they could handle, but with one boy’s lunch sack of fish and bread, Jesus miraculously multiplied the food and fed each empty belly. He even made enough for leftovers. Most of what we know about this story stops here, but following the miracle, the story goes on. Not long afterwards, Jesus and the disciples cross a lake only to find more people waiting for Him on the other side. The crowd had heard what Jesus did with the bread and were thinking this was the kind of guy they could really get on board with. But their motivations and their intentions weren’t fooling Jesus—He knew what was going through their minds. He knew their flaky devotion had more to do with what He could do for them and He called them out on it. So, while still holding their attention, Jesus launches into some pretty heavy teaching—teaching that caught the crowd off guard.
The people who had been waiting on the other side of the lake listened for awhile, but it didn’t take long before they started grumbling and then arguing sharply with each other. The problem was that what Jesus was saying didn’t make a lot of sense. The people were confused, offended, and frankly, probably disappointed in what Jesus was asking of them—so much so that the Bible says many abandoned Him. They turned their backs on Him. In other words, Jesus didn’t live up to the expectations the masses had in mind, so they decided maybe He wasn’t for them after all. And, they left.
Maybe you know the feeling. Maybe you can relate to the masses. Maybe you have heard some cool stuff about this Jesus guy, and experienced some really amazing things through relationship with Him, but then all of the sudden, He asks something of you, or He confuses you, or suddenly starts to seem distant. Maybe your expectations go unmet and before you know it, you are left with a choice to make. Do you stay or do you go?
The crowds left. And I can imagine the scene was a little uncomfortable. Maybe they all left at once, or maybe one by one—as Jesus continued to baffle and bewilder. Regardless of how it happened, by the end of His teaching only twelve remained—the twelve disciples. And after the crowd disbanded, Jesus turned and asked those who lingered, “You do not want to leave too, do you?” (John 6:67 NIV). And in the substantial pause after the weighted question Peter looks at Jesus and answers, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life” (John 6:68 NIV).
Peter and the rest of the disciples heard the same message the crowd did. They probably had the same questions and dealt with the same confusion as those who walked away. But Peter vocalizes what the twelve knew and the crowd didn’t. “No one else can do what You do. No one else talks like You talk. No one else offers what You offer—not just bread to eat, but words that satisfy. We may not get You all the time. We may not understand what You want so badly for us to understand, but where else would we go, if not here? Who else would we turn to, if not to You?”
There is going to come a time when we find ourselves in the same place as the disciples did. When this happens and we get before God and confess our confusion and admit our disinterest, He asks us, “You don’t want to leave too, do you?” And this is the point where we need to make a choice—when we need to make a call. Do we really believe that Jesus holds the words of eternal life? Do we really believe it is worth sticking it out—despite our uncertainty, our confusion, our expectations? Do we really believe that this relationship—as difficult as it may be at times—is worth fighting for? And if we do, then we have the chance to say, like Peter, “Lord, to whom shall we go? I haven’t got this all figured out, but I know this. You have the words of eternal life.”
And that is a great place to start. The best place to start. Not with answers, not with clarity, not with complete and total understanding. Just a simple statement that says exactly where you are—with no place else to go, and the confidence and the faith that being with the Jesus is the best place to be.
© 2009 The reThink Group, Inc. All rights reserved.
Monday, August 23, 2010
XP3: Not That Into You - Session 1 Devotional
The Cover Up
By Sarah Anderson
I don't know about you, but there are some things I just don't need to be taught how to do. Some things just come naturally to me - like covering things up. Chances are you know this. We know how to sound good, look good and even act good, when deep down there may be a mess about ready to erupt inside of us. For whatever reason, we aren't always that great at admitting when something is difficult, when things confuse us, when life doesn't make any sense or when God seems far away. Rather than run the risk of being judged or looked down on, we put on a pretty smile and figure it out ourselves.
It's stupid really. Because pretending usually doesn't fool anybody, and it certainly doesn't fool God. There is a story in the book of Mark where we meet a man who got this. Take a look at Mark 9:17-27. In the story, a dad brings his son, who is possessed by an evil spirit, to Jesus. It seems this boy is thrown into convulsions and unable to speak when the spirit takes hold of him. And the boy's dad is feeling hopeless. He simply wants his son to be healed from a childhood marked by his horrible affliction, but no one can figure out what to do to help him - the disciples themselves tried to free the boy with no luck.
The dad is in a tough spot. He is out of options. Out of answers. Out of opportunities. So when his son is brought to Jesus, the father pleads with little expectation of any change, "But if you can do anything, take pity on us and help us" (Mark 9:22 NIV). It is an honest request. "If you can do anything, take pity. Help." Here is a guy at the end of his rope. Here is a man who has nowhere else to turn but to a Jewish rabbi who has a group of ragtag followers and the tendency to declare Himself God. At this point he is willing to try anything.
And it seems that Jesus knows this man's situation. He picks up on the subtle condition in the man's request. "If you can" the father asked, and Jesus responds with, "'If you can?' Everything is possible for him who believes" (Mark 9:23 NIV). This is the chance a desperate dad has been waiting for. "Anything is possible?" He wonders. "Even healing? Even freedom from this spirit? Even a chance at a normal life?" But what Jesus is asking for is belief, for faith, for hope in an outcome that has seemed stubbornly illusive and far from a reality. Jesus is asking for trust and after all the disappointment this dad has seen and experienced, he isn't sure he can muster any up.
Mark records this happening, Immediately the boy's father exclaimed, "I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!" (Mark 9:24 NIV). This is a man in a desperate situation who knows Jesus can handle his desperate faith. In one swift profession, a father makes clear his craving for healing and for hope, and his utter lack of confidence in both. He knows that all Jesus is asking for is belief, but after all these years of disappointment, he isn't sure he has much to offer.
It isn't often that we live that honestly - not with one another and certainly not with God. If someone asked us if we "believe," if we have faith, if we have hope, many of us would answer with a confident "of course," even if deep down we can't figure out what we think or who we hope in. But this man with the sick son looks into the eyes of Jesus and tells him exactly where he is. "You want me to believe? I want to believe, but I am not sure I do and I am not sure I can." Jesus was not mad, disappointed and certainly not surprised. And do you know what He does? He heals the boy. Not based on the grand amounts of faith a fearful father can muster up, but in spite of his lack of faith, coming on the heels of his honest confession. "I do believe, but I don't believe. And I need more than just a healed son. I need help with the part of me that doesn't know who You are or what You can do."
There is freedom in coming clean - with your struggles, with your mistakes, with your unbelief. God does not run and hide from your honesty. In fact He embraces it and is able to work in spite of it. The possessed son was healed. And in a way, so was the dad. They got more than just a solution to a physical remedy. They had an encounter with God - who wanted nothing more from them than belief and an honest confession of what they were lacking.
If you encountered Jesus today, what would you cry out to Him? Think beyond what you need. What would you honestly and sincerely tell Him? "I do trust You, help my lack of trust!" "I do want to follow You, help where I don't." "I do think You exist, help me when I just don't feel sure." "I do think You have a plan, help me when I don't think that plan includes me." "God, I'm not that into You, help me."
You may be surprised what happens when you get that honest with God. You may get more than what you came for. You may get an encounter with a God who can handle your doubts, your disappointment and even your disinterest - and who works in spite of it.
By Sarah Anderson
I don't know about you, but there are some things I just don't need to be taught how to do. Some things just come naturally to me - like covering things up. Chances are you know this. We know how to sound good, look good and even act good, when deep down there may be a mess about ready to erupt inside of us. For whatever reason, we aren't always that great at admitting when something is difficult, when things confuse us, when life doesn't make any sense or when God seems far away. Rather than run the risk of being judged or looked down on, we put on a pretty smile and figure it out ourselves.
It's stupid really. Because pretending usually doesn't fool anybody, and it certainly doesn't fool God. There is a story in the book of Mark where we meet a man who got this. Take a look at Mark 9:17-27. In the story, a dad brings his son, who is possessed by an evil spirit, to Jesus. It seems this boy is thrown into convulsions and unable to speak when the spirit takes hold of him. And the boy's dad is feeling hopeless. He simply wants his son to be healed from a childhood marked by his horrible affliction, but no one can figure out what to do to help him - the disciples themselves tried to free the boy with no luck.
The dad is in a tough spot. He is out of options. Out of answers. Out of opportunities. So when his son is brought to Jesus, the father pleads with little expectation of any change, "But if you can do anything, take pity on us and help us" (Mark 9:22 NIV). It is an honest request. "If you can do anything, take pity. Help." Here is a guy at the end of his rope. Here is a man who has nowhere else to turn but to a Jewish rabbi who has a group of ragtag followers and the tendency to declare Himself God. At this point he is willing to try anything.
And it seems that Jesus knows this man's situation. He picks up on the subtle condition in the man's request. "If you can" the father asked, and Jesus responds with, "'If you can?' Everything is possible for him who believes" (Mark 9:23 NIV). This is the chance a desperate dad has been waiting for. "Anything is possible?" He wonders. "Even healing? Even freedom from this spirit? Even a chance at a normal life?" But what Jesus is asking for is belief, for faith, for hope in an outcome that has seemed stubbornly illusive and far from a reality. Jesus is asking for trust and after all the disappointment this dad has seen and experienced, he isn't sure he can muster any up.
Mark records this happening, Immediately the boy's father exclaimed, "I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!" (Mark 9:24 NIV). This is a man in a desperate situation who knows Jesus can handle his desperate faith. In one swift profession, a father makes clear his craving for healing and for hope, and his utter lack of confidence in both. He knows that all Jesus is asking for is belief, but after all these years of disappointment, he isn't sure he has much to offer.
It isn't often that we live that honestly - not with one another and certainly not with God. If someone asked us if we "believe," if we have faith, if we have hope, many of us would answer with a confident "of course," even if deep down we can't figure out what we think or who we hope in. But this man with the sick son looks into the eyes of Jesus and tells him exactly where he is. "You want me to believe? I want to believe, but I am not sure I do and I am not sure I can." Jesus was not mad, disappointed and certainly not surprised. And do you know what He does? He heals the boy. Not based on the grand amounts of faith a fearful father can muster up, but in spite of his lack of faith, coming on the heels of his honest confession. "I do believe, but I don't believe. And I need more than just a healed son. I need help with the part of me that doesn't know who You are or what You can do."
There is freedom in coming clean - with your struggles, with your mistakes, with your unbelief. God does not run and hide from your honesty. In fact He embraces it and is able to work in spite of it. The possessed son was healed. And in a way, so was the dad. They got more than just a solution to a physical remedy. They had an encounter with God - who wanted nothing more from them than belief and an honest confession of what they were lacking.
If you encountered Jesus today, what would you cry out to Him? Think beyond what you need. What would you honestly and sincerely tell Him? "I do trust You, help my lack of trust!" "I do want to follow You, help where I don't." "I do think You exist, help me when I just don't feel sure." "I do think You have a plan, help me when I don't think that plan includes me." "God, I'm not that into You, help me."
You may be surprised what happens when you get that honest with God. You may get more than what you came for. You may get an encounter with a God who can handle your doubts, your disappointment and even your disinterest - and who works in spite of it.
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