Oh, these words: “I have seen the Lord.” Isn’t that what we all crave? Mary Magdalene had the immense privilege of being the first to see the resurrected Christ, and the detail of how He speaks Mary’s name instantly familiarizes her with Him; He is a personal God. We want to see Him in our personal lives—when our bodies are desperately spent caring for little ones. We want to see Him when our friend dies unexpectedly. We want to see Him when our chronic illness debilitates us. We want to see Him when our grief and pain are all-consuming.

Jesus rising from the dead is not just a cool story; it is life to our dying souls. The ultimate path to life, on this earth and in eternity, is with Him. Walking with Him in Scripture illuminates the promises He keeps and the tender way He loves us. The Old Testament prophecies pointed to the Messiah over and over again, and Mary Magdalene’s proclamation puts full color on the grayscale of those prophecies. He is here! He is Risen! The scriptures are true! This changes everything!

We know we will see Him again one day, face-to-face, but do we have faith that we will get to see Him now, in our daily lives? How do we grow in our longing for Him when life threatens to pull us away? Our reading from Acts includes a quoted portion from King David in Psalms. When we long to see the Lord, this gives us a new angle to consider.

You reveal the path of life to me; in your presence is abundant joy; at your right hand are eternal pleasures.
—Psalm 16:11

Noticing good gifts and beauty and being in community with the church illuminates gladness and joy. While weeping and grief are also part of the Christian life, we don’t grieve without hope.

Walking with Him in prayer is a way we can simply be with Him, not only in an attempt to get something but in learning to love to simply be with the Father. Prayer is also a way in which the kingdom of God can be realized on the earth, and His purposes revealed.

We can see him today and in eternity because He saw us first. We long for the day we can go home to Heaven, wrap our arms around Jesus’s neck, and proclaim for ourselves, “I have seen the Lord!”

In the meantime, we can see the Lord here too.

When I go to the text, Samson, like so many others, had major sins that would make any of us blush. Though God used him to save Israel, Samson’s path was colored with failure and foolishness. On many occasions, he acted more like a Philistine than the judge of the Israelites. Samson garnered supernatural strength from God, but Samson’s strength was limited, poised on the top of his head, and could be obliterated with a mere haircut. God doesn’t tend to use these means of strength for us in modern history, but He does still give us supernatural strength.

Our family recently walked through a difficult year, and it has me reflecting on how God’s strength shows up in our lives. Our little family of four sustained a seizure diagnosis, two miscarriages, postpartum anxiety, Lyme disease that cropped up while trying to refresh on a vacation, a week-long hospital stay after a routine outpatient procedure, and then an unexpected foot procedure that had me, the mom, hobbling around. The illusion of control breaks down after a year like this. 

Does God show up for us in these types of moments? And if He does, how does He do it? Christians aren’t commanded to grow our hair to keep God’s strength inside us, but He does still give us tangible ways to experience His power. When the clock ticks down on another sleepless night and anxiety is boring holes in your hope, the Bible reminds us that He is stronger than the darkness threatening to consume us. Our hearts can find rest in the leading of the Holy Spirit. When the dawn breaks, we find comfort in the rich truth of God’s power. He uses the church to come alongside us: fellow Christians to pray for us, encourage us, bring us meals, to fill our needs. He empowers us to move through our circumstances with the help of our spiritual family. 

So while we know Samson isn’t the hero of our story today (or any of the stories we’re reading), we can mirror the prayer Samson offered by saying, “Strengthen me, God.” He is faithful to bring you back to Himself and give you His strength. 

But even with the mountaintop highs of John’s biography, he wasn’t so different from you and me. He was a mere man who experienced doubt and fear. Matthew 11 chronicles the end of John’s miraculous life. John was the victim of an evil plot and was put in prison by King Herod. As he sat and awaited his fate, he questioned if he got it wrong. His suffering was troubling his beliefs, and he wondered if he proclaimed victory and mercy over the wrong person. John asked his disciples to go to Jesus to ask Him this poignant question, 

“Are you the one who is to come, or should we expect someone else?” (Matthew 11:3)

Have you ever struggled to believe this too? We are days away from remembering the birth of Christ. Christmas is a beautiful season, and at the same time, it can highlight unmet expectations, disappointment, and sorrow. In the midst of our harried, chaotic, and broken lives, we might find ourselves asking if He is the One we have been looking for. Or, shall we too look for another?

Jesus graciously and compassionately answered John by reminding him of Scripture’s promises—promises from the prophet Isaiah that John would have known intimately. He reminded him of all He had done in His years on the earth, all He had done in the past, and all He would do for every saint from then until God makes everything new again. God has dealt mercifully with His people in fulfilling His covenant with Abraham through Jesus (Luke 1:72-73).

Today, let the Holy Spirit whisper to your heart what Scripture promises. He is the One we should be looking to. Our own strength, Instagram hacks, and perfect to-do lists aren’t going to cut it. Jesus is where life is. He is the only remedy for our sin and brokenness. Meditate on His mercy until it overwhelms your heart with gratitude. God’s mercy to us is boundless, and He is merciful to use man in His redemption plans. He used John the Baptist, and He uses you and me. He is merciful when we sin and doubt; He lavishes us with compassion rather than judgment. He is merciful to save our dead souls.

In the likeness of Christ, He raises our dead souls to life, so we can spend eternity with Him. Christmastime is blanketed in light—allow the season’s decorations to remind you of who you are in Christ. He’s chosen us to be with Him—in His light. 

My husband and I recently went on a vacation to a sunny and warm location without our kids. Our parents lovingly filled in as their “guardians” until we returned. They fulfilled their duties as grandparents, complete with extra snuggles, sugary treats, and fun activities. They counted down the days with our boys and pointed to the calendar to assure them we were coming back. We facetimed through a grainy screen, shouted “I love you!” over Paw Patrol and a squiggly toddler in the background. They kept similar rhythms and kept the children safe, but they weren’t a direct substitute for Mommy and Daddy. Our children’s grandparents were temporary guardians, not a full replacement of their parents.

No metaphor is complete or perfect, but this picture helps me understand how Scripture describes the law in the Old Testament as a guardian until Christ came. The law was never meant to be the full redemption plan. The law’s purpose was to reveal our sin and transgressions, exposing our need for a mediator.

A common question I’ve heard asked is, “why don’t we follow Jewish customs and sacrifices anymore?” These verses in Hebrews and Jeremiah help explain why: we now live under the new covenant. Jesus came to earth, died on the cross as the ultimate sacrifice to pay for sin, fulfilling the requirement of the Old Testament rituals. Jesus declared on the cross, “It is finished.” In Galatia, these believers were tempted to add works of the law to the free grace they received from the cross. Paul wrote his letter to Galatian Christians in response, helping them see the freedom they have from bondage and a false gospel.

Jesus also came to free you from bondage. Just like the Galatian believers, we are tempted to add works to our résumé before God. It would be like if my husband and I came home from our trip, walked into the living room to hug our kids, and they still wanted to facetime us from the same room. Instead, we are free to obey God from a place of grace and love and not from duty. We shouldn’t hold tightly to the works of the law when we have Jesus standing right in front of us. The law is not contrary to God’s promises. The law was always meant to be temporary, to point us to Jesus, who fulfilled the law perfectly so that we can be whole and saved.

For many of the great leaders of the Bible, we often wonder how we can learn from their stories, their faith, and their resilience. I tend to zoom in and ask, “How can I behave like this?” While this isn’t a bad question, the Bible is primarily a story about God. Before I can take away any practical life lessons, I have to ask the bigger-picture questions for the whole of Scripture: Who is Joshua’s story pointing to?

Hebrews 11 lists many faithful leaders in Scripture and tells of the faith of the Israelites to march around the walls of Jericho, an event that occurred under Joshua’s leadership. But Hebrews 11 also tells us they all died in faith but did not receive the things promised (v.39). Hold on—didn’t we just read that Joshua did get to enter the promised land? What didn’t he receive?

Joshua’s leadership led the Israelites into the promised land, but they were still waiting on the Messiah to usher them into the true kingdom of God. Many commentaries describe Joshua’s character who foreshadows what Jesus would be like, and Scripture says Joshua had the Spirit in him (Numbers 27:18), but the serpent-crusher told about in Genesis had not yet come into the world. Moses’s failure was not the end of the Israelites’ story; God made a way for them through Joshua. And Adam’s failure is not the end of our story; God made a way to salvation for us through Jesus. 

When our present circumstances threaten to dissolve our faith, Jesus is still at work in us. Strength cannot be summoned and white-knuckled from inside of who we are; courage is only found in who God is. We can be strong and courageous because we follow a God who promises to dwell with us. We can be strong and very courageous because we follow a promise-keeping God. 

“Haven’t I commanded you: be strong and courageous? Do not be afraid or discouraged, for the LORD your God is with you wherever you go.”
—Joshua 1:9

If you grew up in the church, you likely have heard the story of the exodus dozens of times, but we must not allow it to become rote recitation. Becoming apathetic to the miraculous work of God in the scriptures and in our hearts renders us without joy as believers.

Let’s slow down, and transport our senses to what the Passover experience may have been like. I like to imagine how it would have been if an Israelite woman had kept a diary entry at the time. 

“While I wait for either certain death or salvation, I feel tightening in my chest, giving way to self-soothing deep breaths. My thoughts race—will this be the time Pharoah really lets us go? Will Yahweh be all He says He is, or will His wrath turn on us too? It’s getting dark! Twilight is the signal…now silence, shortly followed by wailing Egyptians. I smell blood, bitter herbs, and meat wafting up through windows and under our noses. Has the angel of death passed over us?” 

I’m sure the Israelites thought they wouldn’t soon forget the drama of this night, but God knew they would without intention. Even in the instructions for the first Passover, He began to set up rituals for remembrance.

We forget, too, but thank God He does not forget us.

The rescue from Pharaoh’s slavery points to our even greater rescue from sin—which is central to the big-picture story of Scripture. The exodus Passover lamb also calls us forward to the Lamb of God that would be coming for a once-for-all sacrifice: Jesus, God in the flesh. 

John the Baptist declared: “Look, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!” (John 1:29).

Take some time today to meditate on how God has been faithful to you. Look at the past circumstances He has worked in. Maybe they are prayers answered or unexpected deliverance. Hold these earthly blessings with dear thankfulness, cultivating remembrance to allow God to comfort you in current worries or unknowns.

She looks around, tilts her head, squints her eyes, and hopes uttering the words won’t break the spell. She almost whispers, “I’m good…really good.”

Has this ever been you? Have you ever found yourself in a wonderful season where it’s easy to see the gifts from God outweighing the negatives? I know I have. The heaviness of the world is still there; I have friends I’m praying for desperately, but for me and my house right now, everyday life is without major problems.

The Bible answers many of our questions when suffering leaves its mark. In our broken world, grief should be expected at some point, but what about when everything seems to be going mostly right? How do we interact with God and Scripture then? 

Thankfully (pun intended), Scripture has an answer for this as well in today’s story of the ten lepers. Ten men were healed of their leprosy. Ten men were released back to society to work for wages, went home to their families and friends, and walked in the streets again. How many thanked Jesus?

One. 

I thought thankfulness would roll off of their lips easily. Wouldn’t we do anything for God if He would just answer our prayers? Then we’d have something to be grateful for. But when all is going well, it is very tempting to forget who gave us the blessing in the first place.  

God is the One who gives us everything, not our human efforts (Psalm 95:3–5). When we move into a new home or a long-awaited baby is born, we can shout hallelujah! Thank you, Lord, our Creator who makes beautiful things! We don’t have to feel guilty when we experience happiness on this earth. However, we must fill the jars of our hearts with lightning bugs of joy, treasuring up gifts of his eternal faithfulness. His gifts are meant to be enjoyed; they really, truly are. But we return to the core of our joy, that lightning bug inside the jar.

What should we ultimately find joy in? Colossians doesn’t let us forget which treasures we should be storing up, “the knowledge of his will in all wisdom and spiritual understanding” (Colossians 1:9). All of heaven rejoices when we put our faith in the only One who can save us. Kyle Worley from the Knowing Faith podcast says it this way, “We shout truths about God in the light so we can stand on them in the dark.” Lightning bugs don’t show up as well in the light, but they can’t be missed in the dark. The greatest joy is being saved from death and darkness to eternity and light with Jesus.

Have you ever felt this way? Have you ever looked at the Instagram page of a dear sister and felt envy? Or maybe you feel you’ll never measure up to your own mother’s gifting? Does a difference in strengths cause conflict in your marriage? I know I’ve fallen prey to these types of thoughts.

Fitting together as one body is hard; it can be complicated and complex. Our sanctification is incomplete, so we are tempted toward jealousy and judgment. We look to our neighbors and think that if they just got on board with our ministry, the world would function better. We turn our noses up at a social media post by a friend because we think she isn’t doing the most important work. 

Or we ruminate on the same type of judgment but in the opposite direction. We look at the portion God has given us and think we aren’t adequate. We can be tempted to wallow in pity that we aren’t as good at speaking, writing, or creating as that other woman. We think we could serve the kingdom better if we were more gifted at hospitality. Or maybe we’d be more important if God gave us a different set of gifts. Paul encourages us to mature by putting this type of thinking away (Ephesians 4:14).

As Romans makes clear, we are saved by grace through faith alone, but the fruit of that salvation will compel us to present our bodies as living sacrifices (Romans 12:1). 

Society will continually have us fighting over which cause, type of person, or set of gifting is greatest in the kingdom. We could change our opinion of who has value and what is worthwhile based on the whims of culture. Testing these conclusions against Scripture, giving the benefit of the doubt, and serving shoulder-to-shoulder with other believers is practicing Biblical discernment. 

As God is faithful to grow and sanctify us, we can look at ourselves and each person in our life, thanking God for every gift. No one is insignificant in the kingdom of God. We can also look to our own hearts and ask the Holy Spirit to convict us of any division that we need to confess and seek forgiveness for. 

Christ is the unifying head of our body—won’t he do it?

“He has sent me to heal the brokenhearted,
to proclaim liberty to the captives
and freedom to the prisoners.” 
—Isaiah 61:1

Freedom. The whole story of the Bible reaches its climax in Jesus’s rescue mission to image bearers. Our souls were dead—imprisoned to sin, darkness, and deceit. My soul was dead. Yours, too, was dead. Our bondage to sin is broken the moment He opens our eyes and frees us. He requires nothing of us; we know that it is pure grace.

How often are we tempted to fall back into habits of self-righteousness? How often do we pile on guilt and shame that is not ours to bear? How often do we judge other sisters without seeing them as God sees them? 

The apostle Paul keeps beating the drum of who Jesus Christ is. Whether to the Roman or Galatian Christians, he was adamant: Don’t forget. Don’t forget what He traded you for. His blood paid the bondage price to trade us from slaves of sin to slaves of righteousness, and He is the better Master. 

Isaiah speaks of a crown of beauty instead of ashes, festive oil instead of mourning, and splendid clothes instead of despair (Isaiah 61:3). What does he trade in your life? Maybe you resonate with some of these blessings: Unshakeable peace instead of circumstantial anxiety, sanctifying victory over persistent sins, and worshipful thankfulness instead of guilt.

It’s interesting to me that Paul keeps using the enslavement metaphor. He explains that we are under bondage only to a new master (Romans 6:18). We are not our own. God made us, built us, and sees everything about us. Our bondage to God is freedom. He knows what makes for human flourishing and most importantly, how we can attain eternal life with Him. 

I’m glad you savored Isaiah 61 again. It’s verses like this that prompts me afresh to long for our Lord’s second coming and revel in the freedom He has given us on this broken earth. 

In verses 3–4, John pulls back the curtain on Jesus’s motives: “Jesus knew that the Father had given everything into his hands, that he had come from God, and that he was going back to God. So he got up from supper…”  

It doesn’t say that there was no other servant to wash the feet and that is why he got up from supper. It doesn’t say that the disciples were arguing about who should smell the stinky sandals, so in exasperation, he got up from supper. Rather, Jesus was meditating on Calvary, so he got up from supper.  

Through washing the feet of the disciples, Jesus metaphorically showed what the cross was about to accomplish for us: He imparts His cleansing righteousness to the filthiest parts of us.  

When our thought life disparages our best friend in moments of judgment or our tongues cut at our spouse’s vulnerability. When our deepest sin and shame bubble to the surface of our consciousness. Past, present, and future, Jesus stoops down. Dirty water washes over a heart of stone to reveal a heart of clean flesh.  

Peter was tempted in the same way we are often tempted (vv.6–9). “Jesus, I need you for some things, but this right here? I got it. I can handle it on my own.” Jesus doesn’t commend Peter for his self-sufficiency or pat him on the back for his resilience. He gently but firmly corrects him, “‘If I don’t  wash you, you have no part with me’” (v.8).  

Let us daily examine our lives to uncover where we are still hoarding idols in the shadowy, cobwebbed corners of our heart. But when we fail, let us be like King David, a man after God’s own heart, who repented of adultery and murder and understood his need for forgiveness:  

Purify me with hyssop, and I will be clean;  
wash me, and I will be whiter than snow. 
—Psalm 51:7

We rest in the promise that You will love us to the very end.