Larry Crabb
Shattered Dreams: The Unexpected Path to Joy I want you to take your Bibles and turn to the Book of Ruth. When I was a kid and the preacher would ask us to turn to a small, obscure, Old Testament book that I couldn’t find, I would flip pages knowingly for a certain period of time in case anyone was looking, and then I would confidently follow along in Exodus or Psalms or Romans while the preacher read from Obadiah. Take your time. If you’re in Exodus keep going, and if you’re in Ephesians, back up quite a ways. Before we look at the text, I want us again to pray. "Father, a space has just been created in my heart because I’ve poured something of who I am out in worship, and that leaves me in a strange way both full and empty. I need continual refreshment from your springs or I run dry. Holy Spirit of God, you are present in our midst. We’ve experienced you; we’ve felt you; you’ve pointed to Jesus. Now my prayer is that you’ll blot me out of the way. You know the temptations in my heart to want to stand up tall and to be noticed. I pray that you’ll drag me off the stage and that you’ll exalt Jesus Christ because that’s what our souls need. That’s the only food that we have. "We’re so silly to think that there’s some other food for our souls than you, and that defines our depravity, our wickedness, our idolatry, our autonomy to think that we can manage to get food on our own as opposed to coming before you as hungry beggars. I think of Luther’s last words before he died, ‘I’m a beggar.’ What a good thing to be in the presence of a generous God. Fill us tonight with your Word. Fill us with Christ we pray in Jesus’ name, amen." I want tonight to tell you the story of a woman who went through a ten-‐year heartache where one dream after another was shattered. A woman, who after a little more than ten years of heartaches ended up with joy. But the joy that she experienced was a unique kind of joy. It was not the happiness that most of us depend on for life. It was not the happiness that comes when life goes well. It was the joy of knowing a God who was moving through her life to accomplish purposes bigger than her immediate comfort. We need, at the outset of this lesson on the Book of Ruth and the story of Naomi, we need to understand a couple of very basic things. Number one, happiness can be defined simply as the good feelings that legitimately come when life goes as you want. When you pray the name "Jesus" and the gloom in your daughter’s eye is sovereignly removed by the skills of the physician, but still by the hand of God, then we respond by saying, "Praise God!" but there are likely little
girls that have gone blind. Where was God then? There’s happiness when a little girl is saved from that kind of an affliction. When my granddaughter was born two-‐and-‐a-‐half years ago, she was born with a disease that could have killed her if the doctors hadn’t spotted it. She spent the first nine days of her life wearing an IV that came out seven or eight times. We had to watch the nurses stick this little tiny infant with needles over and over again. She might have died, but she lived. And, of course, we’re happy. And we should be when blessings come. I’m not talking about the kind of happiness that legitimately comes when life goes as you want it to go. I want to define joy and talk about joy tonight as a deep satisfaction in knowing God no matter how life is going. I want to suggest that it’s actually possible to enjoy God in a way that generates a deep internal satisfaction even when life is falling apart. I just whispered to Bill right before I came up that in these past few weeks I’ve begun to experience in a new way what Augustine called "sovereign joy." These last four years have been the roughest years of my life–shattered dreams one after another–and many nights screaming, many nights saying, "God, where are you?" Many nights feeling like St. John of the cross when he cried from his prison cell, "I looked for you, and you were not there." It’s possible, I believe now with all of my heart–the Scriptures have taught it ever since its been written–but I believe it now with all of my heart that it’s possible to enjoy God in a way that generates a deep joy, that may be there with deep happiness if things are going well, but can be there when there’s no happiness because things are going so badly. If we’re going to get anywhere with this tonight, boy, it’s not going to be up to me. If anyone is going to leave with the hope of joy in the absence of blessing, if anyone is going to leave tonight with the experience of joy when life is falling apart–and some of your lives are falling apart–if that’s going to happen, it’s going to take the work of the Holy Spirit. It’s not going to take rhetorical skills such as they might be for me. You know, it really is one of the most difficult things in the world to get through our heads that we are absolutely dependent on God, the Spirit, for every deep work of grace in our souls. That’s really hard to handle because there’s something about our fallen nature that says, "I want to be able to manage what’s important to me." Anybody feel that? How many of you are parents? Do you want to manage how your kids turn out? Have you bought the books that say "Ten Guaranteed Steps"? When our kids were little, I worked hard. I don’t know of a parent who worked harder than me at being the best parent I could be. By the time my kids were six, they could both define the word propitiation. How many kids do you know that got in trouble who, at age six, could define propitiation?
We had Bible studies. We had surveys of the Scripture. We had doctrine studies, Old Testament survey, New Testament survey. For family devotions, I bought an overhead projector. "God here is my agenda, and I’m going to work really hard. You supply what is lacking, we’re a team." When our older son rebelled, I remember crying out, "My God! What more did you want me to do?" I think his response was, "Quit." "Stop trying to do my job. I never equipped you to change your son’s heart. I equipped you to reflect Christ to your son, and my Spirit will do the rest." In everything that matters, you and I are radically dependent on God. That truth, if grasped, will help us relax inwardly and get out of power struggles where we try to change our spouse and change our kids, change each other. Do you all struggle with that? We were coming to Chicago last winter for Moody Founder’s Week. We live in Denver where it’s real dry. You don’t wear topcoats in the winter out there too often, but in Chicago you do. I don’t wear a topcoat. I don’t like wearing topcoats. My wife thinks I look sexy in them, so I wear them when I come to Chicago. I went to look for my topcoat in the closet where it usually hangs, and it wasn’t there. What do you feel as soon as you see something that’s misplaced? What’s the first word that comes to your mind? It’s not Jesus. It’s, "Rachel! Where did you put my topcoat?" Funny how we assume that the other person is at fault, and if they would change our lives would go well. She called down from upstairs where she was packing her suitcase and said, "It’s where you left it." We got in the car to drive to the airport, and she carries a backpack as her purse when she travels. She had a bunch of magazines in her lap as we were going to the airport. She likes to read magazines on planes. She said to me as we were about a hundred yards out of our house, "Where’s my backpack?" The implication was that I had hidden it somewhere. It turned out that the backpack was hidden on her lap under the magazines. I just really enjoyed that. Wouldn’t it be something if we learned dependency–radical dependency on God–to deal with our mates, our kids, our own hearts. Then maybe we’d relax and learn what it means to be still and know that he really is God. But there’s a problem. And the problem that I struggle with and many of you struggle with if you’re honest as well, is the problem that when we depend on God, he doesn’t always come through. Have you ever had a time in your life when it was hard to sing "Great is Thy Faithfulness" when your wife divorced you? Have you ever had a hard time singing "Great is Thy Faithfulness" when your brother was killed in a plane crash nine years ago as mine was, and I had prayed
that day for his safety? If you’re honest, you’re going to have to admit that God sometimes allows good dreams to shatter. We ask that God will soften our husband’s heart, and he leaves us for another woman. What do you do with that? It’s hard to pray sometimes. Live long enough and dreams will shatter. And you will be puzzled and maybe furious with God. There was a man a number of years ago who, in college, was a member of the InterVarsity Christian organization. He had plans to be a missionary, and he was looking for a woman to share the mission field with him and his dreams to spread the gospel of Jesus Christ. As he finished college and was moving toward a woman for marriage, his aunt, as I recall the story, became ill with cancer and she died. He had prayed that God would cure his aunt of cancer, and instead she died a miserable death. That man, at that point, renounced God. That man is Ted Turner. Live long enough and dreams will shatter, and you’ll wrestle with God. And you’ll come close to dismissing him because you’ll have to admit, as I’ve had to admit, that in certain circumstances of life God could have done something, and he did nothing. What do you do then? When there’s no chance for happiness, is there a chance for joy? And is there a chance for joy, and can you find joy in a God who seems fickle? We call it sovereignty, but we really mean stubborn. As we now turn to the story of Naomi to answer the question of how can we find joy in a God that lets our dreams shatter sometimes, I want to state a core truth that Naomi’s life illustrates. If you don’t get this core truth, then nothing else that I say will make sense. Here’s the core truth that may go down hard for some of us. It goes down hard for me. But here’s the truth that the Bible teaches: God is more committed to his own glory than to our comfort. In Ezekiel 36 when he said, "I’m going to bring a new covenant," which we know is the gospel today, he said, "Be very clear. I’m not going to bring about the new covenant. I’m not going to send Jesus to die on the cross to give you a new life primarily for your sakes. I’m going to do it for my sake. "Because you people have trampled my name, you’ve made me look bad, and I can no longer take it to see my name profaned and wounded in the midst of a world that I created. So I’m going to bring about a new arrangement, and I’m going to put a life in my people that was not in my people before. "The life of the Spirit is going to be in my people, and it will equip them not to make their life go the way they want it to go. It will equip them to bear my name well when the son commits suicide. It will enable them to bear my name well when your husband is unresponsive." God is more committed to his own glory than to our comfort. Please don’t hear this as a flippant sentence. God is the ultimate narcissist, what else could he be? He’s
committed to perfection, what other choice does he have? Me? He’s committed to himself. The good news is when he’s committed to himself, he’s so wonderful I’m in for a ton of joy. If God is more committed to his glory than to our comfort, then it follows that as long as we’re committed to our comfort, God will seem fickle. When we’re committed to his glory, then we experience joy. Let’s look at an illustration from the text, Ruth 1:1-‐3. "In the days when the judges ruled, there was a famine in the land, and a man from Bethlehem in Judah, together with his wife and two sons, went to live"–underline this next phrase–"for a while in the country of Moab." What were their plans? What were their dreams? There was a famine in the land and Elimelech, his wife Naomi, a couple of boys Mahlon and Kilion, decided that it was wise to leave this famine-‐ridden land and go to another land–Moab. And when the famine was over back in Bethlehem, they would return having made their living when the market turned bad in Bethlehem, and survived a bad economy by going to Moab for a while and maybe find a couple of wives for the two young men that were going. Who knows what their dreams were, but their dreams were to keep their life going smoothly because they expected to go there for a while. The man’s name was Elimelech, his wife’s name was Naomi, and the names of their two sons were Mahlon and Kilion. They were Ephrathites from Bethlehem, Judah. When you read the Old Testament aloud, you know, if you don’t know how to pronounce the names, just say them quickly and nobody cares and nobody knows. "Now Elimelech, Naomi’s husband, died, and she was left with her two sons. They married Moabite women, one name Orpah and the other Ruth. After they had lived there about ten years, both Mahlon and Kilion also died." Have you ever talked to a widow? My sister-‐in-‐law lost her husband six months ago– suddenly, unexpectedly. She describes a pain I’ve never known. She describes how in the middle of the night she longs for God. At 4:00 in the morning she experiences a pain only God can relieve, and he rarely does. What do you do with that? Their expectations... (I presume-‐-‐we have no indication otherwise-‐-‐in the text later on we have some indication to support this) their expectations were to go to Moab for a while and come back and continue on with their pleasant life. How many of us are assuming that the pleasant life that perhaps some of us in this room are experiencing now is going to continue, and that somehow that’s God’s job? Our job is to pray, have devotions, come to church, and it’s God’s job to keep the blessings flowing. Isn’t that the deal? Well, that’s how we think. It isn’t always true. Many in this auditorium, I would suppose, would be able to report that you’ve been
following Jesus Christ for a long time and big dreams have been shattered. Well, I was one of Philip Yancey’s best-‐selling books called "Disappointment with God." That’s how the Book of Ruth starts with Naomi’s shattered dreams. Look how the book ends in chapter four. And as you’re turning there, let me tell you a simple fact that the first three verses that I just read to you in the Book of Ruth chapter one, in the Hebrew it consists of 71 words. And in this last passage that I want to read to you in Ruth 4:13-‐17, just about the end of the book, the end of the narrative, is also a little passage that is written up in 71 Hebrew words. It is intended by the author in a very literary style to be symmetrical to say, "Understand that the first part of the book is dreams shattered; the last part of the book is joy restored." How did it get there? What’s the pathway from shattered dreams and the loss of happiness to the attainment of joy, maybe in the absence of happiness? Look at the last few verses, Ruth 4:13. If you know the story, you know that Boaz was a wealthy relative of Naomi’s who fell in love with Ruth and married her. "Boaz took Ruth and she became his wife. He went to her, the Lord enabled her to conceive, and she gave birth to a son. The women said to Naomi: ‘Praise be to the Lord who this day has not left you without a kinsman-‐redeemer. May he become famous throughout Israel! He will renew your life and sustain you in your old age. Your daughter-‐in-‐law, who loves you and who is better to you than seven sons"– that’s Hebrew exaggeration–"has given him birth. "And Naomi took the child, laid him in her lap"–underline that phrase–"and cared for him. The women living there said, ‘Naomi has a son.’ And they named him Obed." It means servant of God. "He was the father of Jesse, the father of David." There are 71 words in the Hebrew. When I first began studying Ruth a couple of years ago in a serious way in preparation for a series of Sunday school lessons, I noticed the 71-‐word beginning and the 71-‐word ending in the bookends. And I realized that the writer intended me to read the book and to feel really bad at the beginning as Naomi was hurting so awfully, and to feel really good at the end as Naomi was doing so well. And I confess to you that as I read the end of the book, I got mad because I didn’t like the ending. Why couldn’t God have allowed her husband to live? At least one of her sons? When our daughter-‐in-‐law was pregnant with our first grandchild three years ago, I was diagnosed with cancer. In the hospital, my wife came into the hospital room, and I had just been told. She had been out to lunch thinking I was there for a very unserious problem. I got the word, and when she came in I said, "Honey I have cancer." We both burst into tears. Her first words were, "I don’t want to be a grandmother alone." I’m here. We’re grandparents together. Some of you are not. Naomi wasn’t. What does it mean to
experience joy in knowing a God who lets dreams shatter seemingly on a random basis? I want you to notice four simple phrases in the story of Naomi which map the journey from despair to joy. Just follow with me quickly as I refer to these. In chapter one, the end of the chapter, there are four phrases that will help you get some hooks in your mind to understand the narrative of the Book of Ruth. The first phrase is: After Naomi had come back from Bethlehem with Ruth, her faithful daughter-‐in-‐law (Orpah stayed in Moab), her husband was dead, her kids were dead, she came back miserable, unhappy, and depressed, but she came back– look at the last phrase in verse 22: She came back as the barley harvest was beginning. Ever been at a party when you were depressed? There was famine for ten years. The famine is over. The harvest time is coming and people were having a great time. Naomi comes home when everybody else is happy, and she’s miserable. The women see her and say earlier in the chapter in verse 19, "Can this be Naomi?" And Naomi’s response was, "Don’t call me that. Naomi means pleasant one. That’s not who I am. I’m miserable. Call me Mara. It means bitter. "I went away full, the Lord has brought me back empty. Why call me Naomi? The Lord has afflicted me. The Almighty Shaddai has brought misfortune upon me." Imagine a missionary coming home from the field talking like that. Would you hire them to speak at your next mission’s conference? You ought to because the body of Christ is a body of broken people who find grace when their lives are a mess. She came back when the barley harvest was beginning. When Naomi was in despair, the harvest was beginning. Notice that. The second phrase I want you to notice is in chapter two, in the middle of verse three. We’re told that Ruth said to Naomi, "Let me go out and glean some grain." And "as it turned out"–underline that phrase "as it turned out"–"she found herself working in the field belonging to Boaz." She didn’t know where she was going. She just sovereignly stumbled into the field. When she didn’t know what to do, it turned out that God saw to it that Ruth went to the field of Boaz. Just notice that second phrase. The third phrase is in chapter three to the end. Naomi is now talking to Ruth, and she has met Boaz. Boaz has fallen in love with her and Boaz wants to marry her, and Ruth wants to marry Boaz. But Boaz says, "I can’t marry you. There’s someone else who by Jewish law has the right to marry you." Ruth comes back to Naomi kind of concerned about that. And Naomi responds by saying in 3:18, "Wait, my daughter, until you find out what happens. For the man will not rest"–there’s the phrase. What’s Jesus doing right now? Well, he’s resting at the Father’s right hand, but we’re also told he’s preparing a place, so he’s working. "The man will not rest until the
matter is settled today." The man who has the power to bless you and is not blessing you the way you want to be blessed is not indifferent. He’s working hard because he wants to be with you, legitimately, forever. Then the last phrase that I mentioned already is in her lap. In 4:16 she’s holding Obed. She laid him in her lap. Now here’s the point of all that I want to say to you tonight. I want to review those four phrases in just a moment, but I want to make one central point out of this. Here’s what I learn from the story of Naomi: When God allows our dreams to shatter, it’s always to awaken a bigger dream. It’s always to awaken a bigger dream that at first–to most of us, and I think to all of us–will not seem attractive. "God, let me go back to the way things were. You took my husband so now I’m lonely. You allowed my kid to go off in bad directions. My job is gone, and there’s not a better one waiting. I’m broke. I’m alone. I’m miserable. God, my highest dream is to go back to the way things were." And God is saying, "I have a higher one, and you won’t see it without the suffering." Only suffering is strong enough to pry our idolatrous grip off of ourselves. To awaken a bigger dream than a life that works well–who wants anymore than that? That’s the American dream. To awaken a bigger dream than the life full of the happiness that only the blessings of life can bring. To awaken a bigger dream even than the wonderful high dreams of our children living for Jesus. To awaken an even bigger dream than the cancer going away. To awaken an even bigger dream than our ministry going well. These are all legitimate dreams, but listen, they’re second dreams. Remember what Lewis said? Whenever I have a good quote and I have no idea who gave it, I give it to Lewis. I figure he probably said it. I think it was Lewis who said, "Put first things first and second things are thrown in. Put second things first, and you lose those first and second things." Come to God with no higher dream than your kids doing well and you lose. Come to God with no higher dream than your ministry succeeding; come to God with no higher dream than standing before this wonderful group and opening up the Word of God and wanting it to go really well; come to God with no higher dream than that, and you lose. In shattered dreams, God is awakening the dream of joy, of experiencing a deep satisfaction in God that deepens rather than disappears when second order dreams shatter. The first phrase that the barley harvest is beginning and Naomi is miserable. "It’s God’s fault. He could have done something, and he did nothing." If you’re hurting, it’s really tough to be around happy people because you feel guilty. It’s tough to go to your small group and everybody’s chipper. "How you doing?" "Great!" "How’s life?" "It couldn’t be better! This is the season of blessing." "How are you doing?" "Yeah, yeah," you go off to get some coffee.
You know most people leave their small groups, not most, but too many people. If there’s one it’s too many. But too many people leave their small groups feeling unknown, unexplored, undiscovered, and untouched. If you’re a follower of Jesus, in the core of your heart know this: The day you were saved, you were more than forgiven. You were forgiven. That’s the essence of the gospel. You’re going to heaven if you trusted Christ as your Savior. But when you were saved, you were more than forgiven. You were indwelt. What that means is in the core of your heart, if you’re a believer today, there’s a joy that you have not yet discovered. And you will only discover it if you walk through the pain. Don’t pretend you’re happy when you’re not. Yeah, be civil, be responsible, do what you need to do. Pain doesn’t excuse you from irresponsibility. But find somebody, a spiritual director, a spiritual friend, find somebody with whom you’re willing to be known, somebody who will explore you without condemning you. Somebody who will discover the life that has survived all the horrors that have happened in your life, and somebody who will touch you with the life of the Spirit. And when you’re in that kind of a community, then you’ll begin to realize that as other folks are experiencing joy as the harvest is beginning, that you may "weep loud for the night but joy is coming in the morning." And you will cry with hope. As it turned out, the second phrase, Ruth stumbled into the field of Boaz. Learn this, brothers and sisters. If I had an hour, I’d tell you ten stories of where God has worked to get through my thick head to make me believe this. While you’re feeling forsaken by God, so desperate that you can think of no way to make anything better, God is at work. As it turned out, God was at work. When Jesus experienced abandonment from God, and by the way, it was true abandonment then. Jesus said, "My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me?" so you and I as believers would never have to say it. We feel it, but it’s never true. While he was crying on the cross, "My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken Me?" it was at that precise moment the Apostle Paul tells us that God was in Christ, reconciling the world to himself in ways you cannot see. At your moment of deepest pain, God is working on your soul to create an awareness of a bigger dream within your heart. How many of you when your son comes in the house at two in the morning drunk have no higher dream than to glorify God? It’s in you; it’s in me. How many of you when you put your mother in an Alzheimer’s unit as I put mine seven weeks ago–it’s the first time my parents have lived apart in 62 years. My mother doesn’t know who I am. I cry.
How many of you as you walk into that facility and say hi to your mom, and she looks strange at you like, "You’re familiar, but I don’t know who you are," how many of you at that point rise up with a passion, "God, in the middle of this, can I bear your name well?" As opposed to railing at God, "Where’s the cure? You could do something! If I could do something I’d do it. You’re supposed to be a lot better than me. You have the power, use it!" Do you rail at God or do you say, "My biggest dream is to glorify you when I hurt the most because that’s when it’s toughest, and that’s, therefore, when you get the most glory." I’m not there, but I have it in sight. God is working to give you a joy in himself that’s deeper than your unhappiness over shattered dreams. Phase three, "Wait, my daughter. The man will not rest until you’re together." What’s our Lord doing right now? Preparing a place. Don’t let your hearts be troubled. He’s preparing a place. Folks, you have to get on to that because if we face this life honestly and you look at the dreams in your life that have been shattered and the dreams that will be shattered before it’s all over, Frederick Beekner says, "Nobody gets out of this world alive." If we face this life honestly and see the dreams that have been shattered, we’ll come to a place where our bottom line hope is not what Jesus is doing now, but what he’s going to do later when he takes us home. Paul says, "In this life only you have hope in Christ, you are of all men most miserable." I’ve heard people say, "Even if I didn’t believe in heaven, I’d still live like a Christian." I think that’s ridiculous. Folks, if there’s no heaven, I’m going to eat, drink, and be merry. Give my money to the church? You’ve got to be kidding. I’m going to buy a new car. Stay with my wife, yeah, I think she’s a neat lady. If she stops being a neat lady, I’ll trade her in for somebody else. That’s what I’d do if there was no heaven. You go around once and get all you can. But if there is a heaven then Christianity is true. And there is a heaven and Christianity is true so none of that stuff makes any sense at all. If heaven is coming up, I want to do whatever pleases my Savior because the man will not rest until every blessing his infinite mind can imagine is showered on me. He’s withholding them now, and I don’t know why, but as I walk in the Spirit, I come to the point where the mystery of my suffering is actually less than the mystery of his restrained passion. Did you ever think how hard it is for Jesus to walk through a hospital wing and not cure everybody? Did you ever think about how hard it is for Jesus to see you’re hurting and not change it? He could, he doesn’t, why? Because he doesn’t care? No! He’s got a bigger dream, but you’ll know joy in the core of your soul because you know him. The last phrase–Naomi held Obed in her lap. The story ends in 71 Hebrew words, and we’re supposed to be excited. When I first read it, I was mad. I’m not mad
anymore. I’m excited. Obed means "servant" as I mentioned before, and he was a child who served God’s larger purpose. He became the father of Jesse who became the father of David who continued the line to Jesus. Naomi didn’t know that. She had experienced the pain of shattered dreams. Her husband was dead. Her two sons were dead. She had a foreigner for a daughter-‐in-‐ law and a relative for a son-‐in-‐law, and a grandson that didn’t come through the natural bloodline. She held this child on her lap. The phrase "on her lap" occurs only three times in the Bible, each time in Genesis. And each time this phrase in the Hebrew is used, it describes an older person holding an infant that will continue the larger story of God after the older person is dead. You see, Naomi knew what I need to learn, and that is that I’m not the point. I come to God, and I say, "God, my life is a story, and here’s the deal, God. How about if I become the writer, producer, director, and star, and could you be a really good supporting cast for my getting some glory out of this deal?" Isn’t that salvation? A lot of Christians think it is. God hears that nonsense, and he says, "Well, I need to differ with you on this one a little bit. On almost everything I differ with you, actually, except the fact that you want joy. I don’t differ with you on that. But I’ll tell you the route to joy. I’m the writer. I’m the producer. I’m the director. My Son is the star. You have the privilege of joining the supporting cast." God is committed to his glory above my comfort. I see Naomi as an old lady, hurting over the absence of her husband, struggling to remember what he looked like. Eyes brimming with tears, saying, "I wish my son were here as the father of this child so I could watch my son dotingly take care of his little boy. But my son is long gone. I can’t even recall what he looks like. "I can recall the memories of a little child, but he’s gone! And I hurt! But Obed is on my lap, and I’m looking up and I’m saying, ‘There’s more to life than me. There’s a story being told and God is using me to tell a story. I’ll trust him.’" God is committed to his glory above my comfort because he knows if I live for his glory I will discover true joy. We’re going to stand for prayer in just a moment, but before I do, I’d like you all to identify if you’re in group A or group B. Group A, you’re in a season of blessing. Things are going pretty well in your life right now. Actually, I’m there. I’ve got hard things, Mother and some other things, but in many ways if I count my blessings, I go on for some time. I’m feeling pretty good about a lot of things right now. Actually, I’m kind of happy. That’s kind of novel for me. I’m sort of a melancholy if the truth be known. My wife recommends to slip Prozac into my morning coffee. Now she hasn’t done that really, but she has recommended it a time or two.
If you’re in a season of blessing, would you recognize tonight the danger of blessings? Hosea says, "When I satisfied my people, they forgot Me." Deuteronomy 31 says, "When I brought my people into the land flowing with milk and honey, they turned from me to other gods." When you’re in a season of blessing, you’ll feel happy. And in your happiness, you’re bound to feel independent of absolute dependency on God. And you’ll fall more in love with your blessings than with the blesser. If you’re in group A in a season of blessing, will you pray the Spirit of God will empower you to enjoy your blessings but to never cling to them, and to hold them in a loose grip? Maybe you’re in group B. I’ve been there many times, and in some ways I’m there tonight. You’re in the midst of shattered dreams. I talked to my dad today on the phone. He’s been away from Mom now for seven weeks. He lives in the same facility, but a different building. He said to me on the phone this afternoon, "I think I’m going to go over and eat with Mother tonight. But we’re not sure if it’s a good idea because it seems to upset her and she cries so hard every time I leave." If you’re in the midst of shattered dreams–a divorce, a child, a loneliness, a loss of a job–will you ask the Spirit to move you through your pain to the inmost depths of your heart where, if you’re a follower of Jesus, a longing to glorify God has not been quenched? It simply has yet to be discovered. Stand with me, will you? Can we honestly say, "It is well with my soul?" Nothing good happens without the Spirit’s movement. I love the opportunity to preach with joy. But whether I preach well or whether I preach poorly, everything depends on the Spirit. I don’t know how many times I’ve preached and felt terrible and people have been blessed. Other times I’ve preached and felt like, "Man, am I good!" And people tell me I’m good and never think about God. How awful. [start of prayer]
