I watched a movie some time ago where one character was negotiating with another. Just when they appeared to reach an agreement, one of them withdrew his offer, saying, “We live in a different world than we did ten seconds ago.”
That’s kind of what it feels like to be writing this column for the April newsletter on March 24th. I always feel a little funny about it. Sometimes I’m writing a first of the year column when we haven’t yet celebrated Christmas, or writing something I know will be printed after a guest speaker has been here but before the speaker has been here. But these are not large obstacles; I simply write about what I can write about at the moment.
But this pandemic, this “shelter-in-place” order – all this stuff – is like nothing else. I have used the word “fluid” to describe the state of affairs and that still remains the case. So as I sit down this morning to write something you will read about a week from now, I have no idea what kind of world we will be inhabiting, what changes we will have endured, by the time you read it.
Do you know there are pastors who actually plan their sermons a year ahead of time? I saw this on the calendar of the pastor of a large church in Alabama. The subject, and in some cases the title, was written on each Sunday for the whole year. As most of you know, that’s not quite how I roll, so I found it a bit mind-boggling. And obviously, when the world changes, adjustments need to be made to a plan like that. A natural disaster, a tragedy in the city or in the church, something along those lines, will often mean interrupting what has been planned so these things can be addressed.
But this is different. The changes just keep happening, and we have been adapting to them on an almost daily basis. I don’t know what the world is going to look like tomorrow, let alone next week! What am I supposed to write about? What if what I write is obsolete before publication?
Ah, but here’s something. I don’t know what the death toll will be, and I don’t know what the total case count will be. I don’t know what the news programs will be saying next week. I don’t know what my news feed will be full of. I don’t know what will be printed in the papers. I don’t know what new edicts may issue from the white house or from Springfield.
But I DO know what the word of God will say next week. I know what His promises will be next week. I know, right now, that when I need protection, it is there. When I need provision, it is there. When I need healing, it is there. When I need mercy, forgiveness, strength, sleep, wisdom, peace, and more, they are there. They are there written in the Word of God. These promises are yes and amen in Christ Jesus. These words are forever settled in Heaven. Not one word of His will fail to come to pass. They are words spoken by a God who is unchanging, in whom there is no hint or shadow of change.
Edward Mote’s famous hymn, “My Hope is Built on Nothing Less” contains this well known lyric: “I dare not trust the sweetest frame, but wholly lean on Jesus’ name.” That means that not only do circumstances change, but WE change as well; day by day, or hour by hour, our mood or FRAME of mind can be just as fluid as the news. So we don’t trust in our mood or frame of mind. We lean wholly on Jesus. We speak His word even if we’re not in the mood. We speak it because it is true, because it is ALWAYS true. He is the solid rock, unmoving and unchanging even in the middle of turbulence like we’ve never experienced.
Keep praying. Keep saying. Keep resting. All is not well with the world, but it should be well with our souls. The world needs to see that in us. Let’s keep living and preaching the Gospel. Let’s let God make the most of this moment for us and through us. I love you guys! I thank God that as we go through this, we are going through it together, even if we can’t assemble just yet. What a glorious day THAT is going to be!
Blessings,
