Passage: Romans 7:7-13
In university I took a philosophy course called “A History of Medical Ideas”. The professor’s thesis was that diseases are actually human constructions – labels we give collections of symptoms. She argued that you don’t have a disease until you’re diagnosed. One of her examples was high blood pressure. She said, “Here’s something you don’t even know you have until you go to Walgreen’s and stick your arm in one of those machines. You don’t feel high blood pressure. You aren’t ‘sick’ until you get the printout and fill the prescription.”
In Romans 7 the Apostle Paul presents a similar argument regarding God’s law and sin. Paul says,
Once I was alive apart from law; but when the commandment came, sin sprang to life and I died. I found that the very commandment that was intended to bring life actually brought death.
It seems Paul believes that he didn’t have a sin problem until he encountered the law. It almost sounds as though Paul is saying that the law caused the problem. What’s Paul getting at?
Paul’s argument throughout the first half of Romans is that the law can only be used to diagnose humanity’s problem. A doctor who diagnoses fatal cancer without offering any treatment is only giving a death sentence. The best the law can do, says Paul, is give a diagnosis that, without a treatment option, is terminal. If this is the case, what good is the law?
Well, says Paul, the first step is admitting the problem. You may feel you’d be better off living in blissful ignorance, but if you’ve got a fatal infection you’re going to find out one way or other. The fact that the diagnostic tool can’t cure the disease doesn’t mean there’s no cure. If left untreated your sin will kill you. You can’t seek treatment if you don’t know you’re sick. The law is in fact a gift so long as it’s paired with the right prescription.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Monday, July 19, 2010
The Numbers Don't Matter
Passage: 1 Chronicles 21; 27:23-24
1 Chronicles 21 recounts almost verbatim an episode that is described earlier in 2 Samuel 24 (see previous post). The 1 Chronicles rendition doesn’t add much more by way of explanation, so the episode continues to be a bit mysterious. Both versions tell this story: King David is compelled to take a count of all the men of fighting age in his kingdom. His military advisor, Joab, cautions him against it. David dismisses Joab’s concerns and commands his general to take the count. The action, we’re told, is repulsive to Joab and to God. God responds by punishing Israel. It’s at this point that David recognizes the error of his ways, repents, and asks God to make it right. God gives David his choice of three different consequences; God’s demand for retribution is satisfied; life goes back to normal. End of story.
When we read through these accounts, we sort of recognize that something has gone wrong. But it’s not immediately clear what. There’s some ambiguity around what motivates David to take the census (is it God? Satan? David’s own ambition?); there’s some mystery about why it’s so bad for David to take the count in the first place. It’s not until we get to 1 Chronicles 22:23 that we get the explanation. It’s a brief explanation, but sufficient to clear up some of the confusion. Here’s what we’re told:
David did not take the number of the men twenty years old or less, because the LORD had promised to make Israel as numerous as the stars in the sky. Joab son of Zeruiah began to count the men but did not finish. Wrath came on Israel on account of this numbering, and the number was not entered in the book of the annals of King David.
Why was it both unnecessary and offensive for David to count his men? Because God promised to give him enough. David started counting his fighting forces for two reasons: 1) To measure his own power and influence and 2) To assure himself that he had enough. God says, “Isn’t my word reassurance enough? If I say I will give you enough people, I’ll give you enough people. You don’t have to keep double checking!”
This is God’s response to us: “Isn’t my word reassurance enough? If I promise to give you what you need, why do keep double checking? Why do you so compulsively count your money and your stuff? Why do you seek your reassurance elsewhere? Trust me!”
1 Chronicles 21 recounts almost verbatim an episode that is described earlier in 2 Samuel 24 (see previous post). The 1 Chronicles rendition doesn’t add much more by way of explanation, so the episode continues to be a bit mysterious. Both versions tell this story: King David is compelled to take a count of all the men of fighting age in his kingdom. His military advisor, Joab, cautions him against it. David dismisses Joab’s concerns and commands his general to take the count. The action, we’re told, is repulsive to Joab and to God. God responds by punishing Israel. It’s at this point that David recognizes the error of his ways, repents, and asks God to make it right. God gives David his choice of three different consequences; God’s demand for retribution is satisfied; life goes back to normal. End of story.
When we read through these accounts, we sort of recognize that something has gone wrong. But it’s not immediately clear what. There’s some ambiguity around what motivates David to take the census (is it God? Satan? David’s own ambition?); there’s some mystery about why it’s so bad for David to take the count in the first place. It’s not until we get to 1 Chronicles 22:23 that we get the explanation. It’s a brief explanation, but sufficient to clear up some of the confusion. Here’s what we’re told:
David did not take the number of the men twenty years old or less, because the LORD had promised to make Israel as numerous as the stars in the sky. Joab son of Zeruiah began to count the men but did not finish. Wrath came on Israel on account of this numbering, and the number was not entered in the book of the annals of King David.
Why was it both unnecessary and offensive for David to count his men? Because God promised to give him enough. David started counting his fighting forces for two reasons: 1) To measure his own power and influence and 2) To assure himself that he had enough. God says, “Isn’t my word reassurance enough? If I say I will give you enough people, I’ll give you enough people. You don’t have to keep double checking!”
This is God’s response to us: “Isn’t my word reassurance enough? If I promise to give you what you need, why do keep double checking? Why do you so compulsively count your money and your stuff? Why do you seek your reassurance elsewhere? Trust me!”
Thursday, July 15, 2010
A New Chapter
When you read 1 and 2 Chronicles, you can’t help but ask, “What’s the point?” Especially if, like me, you recently finished reading all of Samuel and Kings, you have the distinct feeling you’re rereading material you just got through. Not only do the narrative sections of Chronicles seem to be almost verbatim reproductions from other books, these sections are broken up by long – long – lists of names. I for one am tempted to just skip these readings altogether.
Here are some things that might make Chronicles worth a second glance:
• Best estimates place the writing of these books in the 4th century BC. At this time the descendants of Israel have returned from the exile and are trying to resettle Judah. They’re servants of the Persian Empire, and have forgotten their historic identity as the people of God.
• 1 and 2 Chronicles present an “alternative history” – though they capture many of the events of Samuel and Kings, they offer a slightly different slant. It’s worth paying close attention to the differences. The focus of the author (whose identity is unknown) is highlighting the ways God’s people got it wrong.
• The Jewish Bible includes Chronicles as its final book - and with good reason. It is a retrospective look at the life of the nation that God called and gathered. It is a book that highlights the triumphs of God and his chosen people; it is a book that looks with regret and nostalgia on good things that have come to an end. Finally, it is a warning to God’s people in all times and places not to repeat past mistakes. Throughout, God is shown to be just, good, and consistent. What God promises – be it blessing or judgment – God will deliver.
So take a closer look. 1 and 2 Chronicles may tell the same stories, but they tell a new story. It’s the story of God’s people, starting at the beginning. It’s a story of failure and loss. At the same time it’s the story of God’s unwavering faithfulness, and the promise that in God’s story there’s always a new chapter.
Here are some things that might make Chronicles worth a second glance:
• Best estimates place the writing of these books in the 4th century BC. At this time the descendants of Israel have returned from the exile and are trying to resettle Judah. They’re servants of the Persian Empire, and have forgotten their historic identity as the people of God.
• 1 and 2 Chronicles present an “alternative history” – though they capture many of the events of Samuel and Kings, they offer a slightly different slant. It’s worth paying close attention to the differences. The focus of the author (whose identity is unknown) is highlighting the ways God’s people got it wrong.
• The Jewish Bible includes Chronicles as its final book - and with good reason. It is a retrospective look at the life of the nation that God called and gathered. It is a book that highlights the triumphs of God and his chosen people; it is a book that looks with regret and nostalgia on good things that have come to an end. Finally, it is a warning to God’s people in all times and places not to repeat past mistakes. Throughout, God is shown to be just, good, and consistent. What God promises – be it blessing or judgment – God will deliver.
So take a closer look. 1 and 2 Chronicles may tell the same stories, but they tell a new story. It’s the story of God’s people, starting at the beginning. It’s a story of failure and loss. At the same time it’s the story of God’s unwavering faithfulness, and the promise that in God’s story there’s always a new chapter.
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Not By Chance
Passage: Acts 24
When the Apostle Paul became a Christ-follower, God said to one of the disciples, “This man is my chosen instrument to carry my name before the Gentiles and their kings and before the people of Israel. I will show him how much he must suffer for my name.” (Acts 9:15-16). As Paul’s story progresses, we see him endure constant adversity and tremendous suffering (Paul himself gives a litany of his trials here). Yet Paul relentlessly pursues his mission: to preach the Gospel of Jesus Christ to the world.
In Acts 24 Paul is brought before a Roman court by proponents of Judaism. Paul has been arrested because of a riot that broke out following one of his sermons (happens to me all the time). At his hearing he sets the record straight about who he is, what he believes, and what he’s up to. Felix, the Roman governor, seems very sympathetic to Paul’s case, and it seems obvious that Paul will be acquitted. It comes as a shock that the postscript to the story is that Felix keeps Paul in prison for two years, for no other reason than he’s hoping Paul will bribe him. Paul is left in limbo when Felix is replaced by another governor who knows nothing about Paul or his case.
We can only imagine Paul’s frustration at the situation. I get testy if my line at the grocery store doesn’t move after a couple minutes. I go out of my mind if I’m stuck in a traffic jam for more than 20 minutes. How would I handle losing 2 years of my life (or more) to a wrongful imprisonment? It would be easy for Paul to conclude that God’s forgotten about him. Or that his time is being wasted. That somehow this is a pointless detour from his all-important mission.
By all accounts Paul concludes none of the above. He doesn’t give in to self-pity. He doesn’t complain about his time being wasted. He doesn’t claim that these two years are anything but part of God’s plan for him. There is widespread speculation that Paul wrote his Letter to the Philippians sometime during this imprisonment. Here’s one of the things Paul says:
Now I want you to know, brothers, that what has happened to me has really served to advance the gospel. As a result, it has become clear throughout the whole palace guard and to everyone else that I am in chains for Christ. Because of my chains, most of the brothers in the Lord have been encouraged to speak the word of God more courageously and fearlessly… The important thing is that…Christ is preached. And because of this I rejoice. (Philippians 1:12-14;18)
What would it take for us to live with this kind of focus and this kind of conviction? To embrace that everything we do is part of our mission to share the Gospel of Jesus Christ? And to believe that every event happens not by chance but as part of God’s plan for us? Listen to this excerpt from the Heidelberg Catechism:
What do you understand by the providence of God?
Providence is the almighty and ever present power of God by which he upholds, as with his hand, heaven and earth and all creatures, and so rules them that leaf and blade, rain and drought, fruitful and lean years, food and drink, health and sickness, prosperity and poverty; all things, in fact, come to us not by chance but from his fatherly hand. (Q & A 27)
We may not always like what God brings us. But we find comfort in knowing that God is in control, and that everything we experience is part of his plan.
When the Apostle Paul became a Christ-follower, God said to one of the disciples, “This man is my chosen instrument to carry my name before the Gentiles and their kings and before the people of Israel. I will show him how much he must suffer for my name.” (Acts 9:15-16). As Paul’s story progresses, we see him endure constant adversity and tremendous suffering (Paul himself gives a litany of his trials here). Yet Paul relentlessly pursues his mission: to preach the Gospel of Jesus Christ to the world.
In Acts 24 Paul is brought before a Roman court by proponents of Judaism. Paul has been arrested because of a riot that broke out following one of his sermons (happens to me all the time). At his hearing he sets the record straight about who he is, what he believes, and what he’s up to. Felix, the Roman governor, seems very sympathetic to Paul’s case, and it seems obvious that Paul will be acquitted. It comes as a shock that the postscript to the story is that Felix keeps Paul in prison for two years, for no other reason than he’s hoping Paul will bribe him. Paul is left in limbo when Felix is replaced by another governor who knows nothing about Paul or his case.
We can only imagine Paul’s frustration at the situation. I get testy if my line at the grocery store doesn’t move after a couple minutes. I go out of my mind if I’m stuck in a traffic jam for more than 20 minutes. How would I handle losing 2 years of my life (or more) to a wrongful imprisonment? It would be easy for Paul to conclude that God’s forgotten about him. Or that his time is being wasted. That somehow this is a pointless detour from his all-important mission.
By all accounts Paul concludes none of the above. He doesn’t give in to self-pity. He doesn’t complain about his time being wasted. He doesn’t claim that these two years are anything but part of God’s plan for him. There is widespread speculation that Paul wrote his Letter to the Philippians sometime during this imprisonment. Here’s one of the things Paul says:
Now I want you to know, brothers, that what has happened to me has really served to advance the gospel. As a result, it has become clear throughout the whole palace guard and to everyone else that I am in chains for Christ. Because of my chains, most of the brothers in the Lord have been encouraged to speak the word of God more courageously and fearlessly… The important thing is that…Christ is preached. And because of this I rejoice. (Philippians 1:12-14;18)
What would it take for us to live with this kind of focus and this kind of conviction? To embrace that everything we do is part of our mission to share the Gospel of Jesus Christ? And to believe that every event happens not by chance but as part of God’s plan for us? Listen to this excerpt from the Heidelberg Catechism:
What do you understand by the providence of God?
Providence is the almighty and ever present power of God by which he upholds, as with his hand, heaven and earth and all creatures, and so rules them that leaf and blade, rain and drought, fruitful and lean years, food and drink, health and sickness, prosperity and poverty; all things, in fact, come to us not by chance but from his fatherly hand. (Q & A 27)
We may not always like what God brings us. But we find comfort in knowing that God is in control, and that everything we experience is part of his plan.
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Too Little Too Late?
Passage: 2 Kings 23
The house I’m living in is bordered by flower gardens. Not knowing what had been planted in those gardens in previous years, my wife and I waited to see what perennials would present themselves during our first spring. We were pleasantly surprised to see lilies, crocuses, and even some leftover tulips pop up as the weather got warmer. Then a plant we couldn’t identify started appearing in one of the beds; before we knew it it had taken over. It turned out to be a kind of prolific and very tenacious wild mint. We started pulling the plants, only to see a host of new ones grow in their wake. In one frenzied attempt we pulled out all the plants at once. We heaved a sigh of relief, and forget about it until the following spring. We were shocked and dismayed to see a thick carpet of the plants appear where a clean garden should have been. It seemed there was nothing we could do. The roots of the plants persisted no matter how hard we tried to eliminate them.
During his reign, King Josiah puts forth a valiant effort to weed the roots of idolatry and evil from Judah. He goes far beyond the attempts of any of his forbears, cleansing the temple of idols and pagan priests, and removing the high places that had popped up all over the country. Josiah does this following the discovery of the Books of God’s Law; his endeavor to cleanse Judah of idols is an expression of his desire to lead his people back into right relationship with God.
God’s response to Josiah’s faithfulness comes as a surprise. God spares Josiah the judgment God promised to bring to Judah. But God remains resolute in bringing this judgment. Although Josiah has successfully erased the signs of Judah’s unfaithfulness from the landscape, the roots thereof remain hidden in the hearts of the people. The infidelity that has swept God’s people cannot be weeded out; their separation from God is inexorable.
Here’s the way I see the themes of 2 Kings play out in my own life. I experience a sense of conviction (presumably the voice of the Holy Spirit) around a particular habit, possession or indulgence. I realize that I have begun to find in that habit, possession or indulgence the comfort and security that I should find only in my relationship with God. Without realizing it I’ve substituted God – I’ve created an idol. So I rearrange my life a little. I reduce my participation in the activity; I change the habit; I limit my access to the substance or the possession. I heave a sigh of relief. Problem solved. It’s only months later that I discover that my tendency toward God-substitution has simply found expression in another habit. The process of eliminating our idols is never-ending because our tendency toward idolatry is relentless. How do we escape the judgment that befell Israel and Judah? We cast ourselves on the mercy of Jesus Christ (Romans 7:24-25). And we accept that the work is never done. Weeding out our idols is never a one-time thing. It’s a daily discipline.
The house I’m living in is bordered by flower gardens. Not knowing what had been planted in those gardens in previous years, my wife and I waited to see what perennials would present themselves during our first spring. We were pleasantly surprised to see lilies, crocuses, and even some leftover tulips pop up as the weather got warmer. Then a plant we couldn’t identify started appearing in one of the beds; before we knew it it had taken over. It turned out to be a kind of prolific and very tenacious wild mint. We started pulling the plants, only to see a host of new ones grow in their wake. In one frenzied attempt we pulled out all the plants at once. We heaved a sigh of relief, and forget about it until the following spring. We were shocked and dismayed to see a thick carpet of the plants appear where a clean garden should have been. It seemed there was nothing we could do. The roots of the plants persisted no matter how hard we tried to eliminate them.
During his reign, King Josiah puts forth a valiant effort to weed the roots of idolatry and evil from Judah. He goes far beyond the attempts of any of his forbears, cleansing the temple of idols and pagan priests, and removing the high places that had popped up all over the country. Josiah does this following the discovery of the Books of God’s Law; his endeavor to cleanse Judah of idols is an expression of his desire to lead his people back into right relationship with God.
God’s response to Josiah’s faithfulness comes as a surprise. God spares Josiah the judgment God promised to bring to Judah. But God remains resolute in bringing this judgment. Although Josiah has successfully erased the signs of Judah’s unfaithfulness from the landscape, the roots thereof remain hidden in the hearts of the people. The infidelity that has swept God’s people cannot be weeded out; their separation from God is inexorable.
Here’s the way I see the themes of 2 Kings play out in my own life. I experience a sense of conviction (presumably the voice of the Holy Spirit) around a particular habit, possession or indulgence. I realize that I have begun to find in that habit, possession or indulgence the comfort and security that I should find only in my relationship with God. Without realizing it I’ve substituted God – I’ve created an idol. So I rearrange my life a little. I reduce my participation in the activity; I change the habit; I limit my access to the substance or the possession. I heave a sigh of relief. Problem solved. It’s only months later that I discover that my tendency toward God-substitution has simply found expression in another habit. The process of eliminating our idols is never-ending because our tendency toward idolatry is relentless. How do we escape the judgment that befell Israel and Judah? We cast ourselves on the mercy of Jesus Christ (Romans 7:24-25). And we accept that the work is never done. Weeding out our idols is never a one-time thing. It’s a daily discipline.
Monday, July 5, 2010
Deliver Us
Passage: 2 Kings 19
The Book of 2 Kings is punctuated by moments in which God’s people – the nations of Israel and Judah – are faced with insurmountable adversity. From the beginning God’s people have been smaller and weaker than any of their neighbors (see Deuteronomy 7:7-11). They have often been insulated from this harsh reality because God has protected them from their stronger, more ruthless enemies. But one of the consequences of Israel and Judah’s sins (the most prominent of which is the worship of substitute gods) is that the one true God withdraws his protection and allows his people to fend for themselves. Following the reigns of David and Solomon, the periods of harmony between God and his people become fewer and farther between. Israel and Judah are overrun by their enemies, and the Israelites are eventually conquered and exiled by the Assyrians (see 2 Kings 17). During the reign of Hezekiah, it seems that Judah’s exile is imminent, too. Sennacherib, king of the merciless and innumerable Assyrians, has given Hezekiah’s people an ultimatum: surrender or be crushed. Neither option is particularly appealing – surrender will involve the execution of many of Judah’s fighting men and the enslavement of everyone else; the alternative is siege and slow starvation followed by brutal and painful death at the hands of sadistic soldiers. The Judeans are in a jam, and there’s nothing they can do.
Or so it would seem. Fully aware of his grave predicament, Hezekiah does something surprising: he prays. Here’s what he says:
O LORD, God of Israel, enthroned between the cherubim, you alone are God over all the kingdoms of the earth. You have made heaven and earth. Give ear, O LORD, and hear; open your eyes, O LORD, and see; listen to the words Sennacherib has sent to insult the living God.
"It is true, O LORD, that the Assyrian kings have laid waste these nations and their lands. They have thrown their gods into the fire and destroyed them, for they were not gods but only wood and stone, fashioned by men's hands. Now, O LORD our God, deliver us from his hand, so that all kingdoms on earth may know that you alone, O LORD, are God.”
You can read the rest of the passage to see how things turn out.
This passage reinforces a message given throughout Scripture: God hears the prayers of his people, and God is able to deliver them from the impossible. Hezekiah’s prayer provides insight into when and how God provides such deliverance. The precipitating situation involves two things: first, God’s people are up against something they can’t possible overcome on their own; second, they have been confronted by an adversary who has misrepresented God (see 2 Kings 18:25). God has something invested here. Hezekiah appeals to God’s own interest in maintaining his reputation. Next, Hezekiah stipulates that the God to whom he appeals is the one true God – the “God of heaven and earth”. He declares that there is no God but his God. Finally, Hezekiah prays that God’s deliverance would serve the purpose not simply of rescuing Hezekiah and his people, but proving to the world once and for all that God is God. Hezekiah demonstrates that he understands God, and is committed to God’s purposes.
We regularly pray, “God bless me” or “God bless us.” Sometimes we do so believing that we’re entitled to God’s blessing. Sometimes we do so as an empty truism – we know it’s not really God making things happen, but rather our own efforts or resources that will deliver us. Neither position reflects a real relationship with God. God doesn’t owe it to us to help us out. But God is more than willing to do so – so long as God gets the credit. God’s hand is most visibly at work when he delivers us from stuff we can’t conquer on our own. What separates God’s people from everyone else is that God’s people acknowledge their weakness and failure, and make it clear to the world that their help comes from God alone. If you’re in a jam you can’t get yourself out of, don’t be ashamed. Don’t be afraid. Say the prayer: “God of heaven and earth, deliver me.” Say it out loud; say it so loud that people can hear it. See what God can do. Then tell the world.
The Book of 2 Kings is punctuated by moments in which God’s people – the nations of Israel and Judah – are faced with insurmountable adversity. From the beginning God’s people have been smaller and weaker than any of their neighbors (see Deuteronomy 7:7-11). They have often been insulated from this harsh reality because God has protected them from their stronger, more ruthless enemies. But one of the consequences of Israel and Judah’s sins (the most prominent of which is the worship of substitute gods) is that the one true God withdraws his protection and allows his people to fend for themselves. Following the reigns of David and Solomon, the periods of harmony between God and his people become fewer and farther between. Israel and Judah are overrun by their enemies, and the Israelites are eventually conquered and exiled by the Assyrians (see 2 Kings 17). During the reign of Hezekiah, it seems that Judah’s exile is imminent, too. Sennacherib, king of the merciless and innumerable Assyrians, has given Hezekiah’s people an ultimatum: surrender or be crushed. Neither option is particularly appealing – surrender will involve the execution of many of Judah’s fighting men and the enslavement of everyone else; the alternative is siege and slow starvation followed by brutal and painful death at the hands of sadistic soldiers. The Judeans are in a jam, and there’s nothing they can do.
Or so it would seem. Fully aware of his grave predicament, Hezekiah does something surprising: he prays. Here’s what he says:
O LORD, God of Israel, enthroned between the cherubim, you alone are God over all the kingdoms of the earth. You have made heaven and earth. Give ear, O LORD, and hear; open your eyes, O LORD, and see; listen to the words Sennacherib has sent to insult the living God.
"It is true, O LORD, that the Assyrian kings have laid waste these nations and their lands. They have thrown their gods into the fire and destroyed them, for they were not gods but only wood and stone, fashioned by men's hands. Now, O LORD our God, deliver us from his hand, so that all kingdoms on earth may know that you alone, O LORD, are God.”
You can read the rest of the passage to see how things turn out.
This passage reinforces a message given throughout Scripture: God hears the prayers of his people, and God is able to deliver them from the impossible. Hezekiah’s prayer provides insight into when and how God provides such deliverance. The precipitating situation involves two things: first, God’s people are up against something they can’t possible overcome on their own; second, they have been confronted by an adversary who has misrepresented God (see 2 Kings 18:25). God has something invested here. Hezekiah appeals to God’s own interest in maintaining his reputation. Next, Hezekiah stipulates that the God to whom he appeals is the one true God – the “God of heaven and earth”. He declares that there is no God but his God. Finally, Hezekiah prays that God’s deliverance would serve the purpose not simply of rescuing Hezekiah and his people, but proving to the world once and for all that God is God. Hezekiah demonstrates that he understands God, and is committed to God’s purposes.
We regularly pray, “God bless me” or “God bless us.” Sometimes we do so believing that we’re entitled to God’s blessing. Sometimes we do so as an empty truism – we know it’s not really God making things happen, but rather our own efforts or resources that will deliver us. Neither position reflects a real relationship with God. God doesn’t owe it to us to help us out. But God is more than willing to do so – so long as God gets the credit. God’s hand is most visibly at work when he delivers us from stuff we can’t conquer on our own. What separates God’s people from everyone else is that God’s people acknowledge their weakness and failure, and make it clear to the world that their help comes from God alone. If you’re in a jam you can’t get yourself out of, don’t be ashamed. Don’t be afraid. Say the prayer: “God of heaven and earth, deliver me.” Say it out loud; say it so loud that people can hear it. See what God can do. Then tell the world.
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