A picture of Jesus holding a larger version of a gift as He asks for the smaller thing held in a child’s hands floats around social media consistently. This picture becomes the requests of our hearts: Lord, I will sacrifice my little earthly desire so that you can give me the better version of my earthly desire.
But what happens when He does not come through with His part of giving us what we feel we deserve?
What if the better gift He wants us to have is not a thing, but Himself?
Oof—this is so convicting to me. How often do I cheapen the Gospel with lowly thoughts of God’s purposes.
Paul always preached about not cheapening the grace that cost our Savior every last drop of His blood, that separated Him from His Father through no fault of His own and endured cruelty, ridicule, and humiliation. The book of Philippians was written from a less-than-comfortable prison cell. In it, Paul recalled his former position as a high ranking Pharisee, the esteem he once enjoyed among men, and the comfort he once lived in as nothing but dung: waste, excrement, refuse. What did he gain in exchange for everything wealth and position could buy?
The knowledge of his Savior, Jesus.
Not knowledge about Jesus. Not just information. No, it was a deep, abiding, loving friendship with the God who spoke the Universe into existence.
How often do we mourn over our losses and merely exchange them for another lesser desire?
“Well—God did not allow me to have my dream, so I will have to find a new dream. And let me tell you, I am still a little angry and bitter about it!”
This is not the Gospel Paul knew and taught to the believers in Philippi.
But what things were gain to me, those I counted loss for Christ. Yea doubtless, and I count all things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord: for whom I have suffered the loss of all things, and do count them but dung, that I may win Christ, And be found in him, not having mine own righteousness, which is of the law, but that which is through the faith of Christ, the righteousness which is of God by faith: That I may know him, and the power of his resurrection, and the fellowship of his sufferings, being made conformable unto his death; If by any means I might attain unto the resurrection of the dead. Philippians 3:7-11
The last verse in this passage puzzled me. What does it mean to attain unto the resurrection of the dead? But Philippians 2:12-13 casts light on the phrase.
Wherefore, my beloved, as ye have always obeyed, not as in my presence only, but now much more in my absence, work out your own salvation with fear and trembling.For it is God which worketh in you both to will and to do of his good pleasure.
Paul desired to live his life in such a way that it matched the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus, his Savior. Whatever had to be stripped away, whatever in him did not look like Christ, whatever kept him from loving Jesus more than anything else in this life: Paul wanted no part of it. He wanted to attain the life of Jesus Christ because he had been offered more than he could ever deserve. His priority was to use every circumstance to glorify Jesus.
This has now become my personal prayer. “Lord, do not allow me to settle for anything less than knowing You, living in the power of your resurrection, and finding comfort in the fellowship of Your sufferings, as You conform me into the humble, sacrificial death You demonstrated. Please renew my mind to think, speak, and live like You did on this planet, so that my life lives out what You deserve for so great a sacrifice. May Your Name be glorified in every circumstance of my life.”
I hope this thought is as challenging to you as it was to me this morning. Have a blessed weekend, my friends.
His Song in the Night 