We humans want to do things our way. Forget the easy way.  Forget the common way. Forget the best way. Forget God’s way. We want to do things *our* way. And according to the Bible, that’s precisely our problem. “We all have wandered away like sheep; each of us has gone his own way” (Isa. 53:6).

Couldn’t David (in Psalm 23) have thought of a better metaphor? Surely he could have. After all, he outran Saul and outgunned Goliath. Why didn’t he choose something other than sheep?  How about: “The Lord is my commander in chief, and I am his warrior.” There. We like that better. A warrior gets a uniform and a weapon, maybe even a medal. Or, “The Lord is my inspiration, and I am his singer.” We are in God’s choir; what a flattering assignment. Or, “The Lord is my king, and I am his ambassador.” Who wouldn’t like to be a spokesperson for God? Everyone stops when the ambassador speaks. Everyone listens when God’s minstrel sings. Everyone applauds when God’s warrior passes.

But who notices when God’s sheep show up? Who notices when the sheep sing or speak or act? Only one person notices; the shepherd. And that is precisely David’s point.

When David, who was a warrior, minstrel, and ambassador for God, searched for an illustration of God, he remembered his days as a shepherd. He remembered how he lavished attention on the sheep day and night. How he slept with them and watched over them. And the way he cared for the sheep reminded him of the way God cares for us. David rejoiced to say, “The Lord is my shepherd,“ and in doing so he proudly implied, "I am his sheep.”

Many of us are uncomfortable with this idea because we see ourselves as self-reliant. Who are we fooling? The Twenty-third Psalm for the Self-Reliant might look like this:

“I am my own shepherd, I am always in need. I stumble from mall to mall and shrink to shrink, seeking relief but never finding it.

I creep through the valley of the shadow of death and fall apart. I fear everything from pesticides to power lines, and I’m starting to act like my mother. I go down to the weekly staff meeting and am surrounded by enemies. I go home, and even my goldfish scowls at me.

I anoint my headache with extra-strength Tylenol. My Jack Daniel’s runneth over. Surely misery and misfortune will follow me, and I will live in self-doubt for the rest of my lonely life.”

Why is it that the ones who most need a shepherd resist him so…? Scripture says, “Do it God’s way.” Experience says, “Do it God’s way.” Every Scot in heaven begs. “Aye, laddie, do it God’s way.”

– MAX LUCADO – in his book “Traveling Light”  (edited for space)

Christian sociologist Shaunti Feldhahn thinks that almost everything we’ve been told about marriage and divorce is wrong.

The Harvard-trained researcher spent eight years getting to the data on broken marriages—and the results might shock you. We’ve heard the statistic that half of all marriages end in divorce.

Not so fast, says Feldhahn, who offers her findings in a new book, “The Good News About Marriage.” Like most sociologists, Feldhahm says she’s stood up on stage and said every one of those wrong statistics.” Now, she’s on a mission to correct false assumptions.

She discovered that the actual divorce rate isn’t even close to that number.

“There is no such thing as a 50% divorce rate. It’s never [even] been close. Right now, 72% of people are still married to their first spouse—that’s Census Bureau data,” she says. Eighty percent of married couples who worship together consider themselves “happy” or “very happy.”

–“The Connector,” newsletter published by Intercessors for America, July/August 2014, p.4

(The Timothy Report, www.timothyreport.com), and seen in Cup O’Cheer

Inviting God In

Confession admits wrong and seeks forgiveness. Amnesty denies wrong and claims innocence! Many mouth a prayer for forgiveness while in reality claiming amnesty. Consequently our worship is cold—why thank God for a grace we don’t need? …and our faith is weak—I’ll handle my mistakes myself, thank you. 

We are better at keeping God out than we are at inviting God in. Sunday mornings are full of preparing the body for worship, preparing the hair for worship, preparing the clothes for worship—but preparing the soul? Am I missing the mark when I say that many of us attend church on the run? Am I out of line when I say many of us spend life on the run? Am I overstating the case when I announce, “Grace means you don’t have to run anymore?” It’s the truth! Grace means it’s safe to turn ourselves in.

From In the Grip of Grace