Jesus Isn't Decaf (By Naomi Meyers)

It was impassable. They’d rushed out of Egypt on foot, taking everything they could carry. Infants and toddlers were strapped to mother’s backs. Young children were clinging to their father’s legs. Behind them, Pharaoh and his army were thundering down on horseback and in chariots, breathing out threats of re-capture and increased workloads. Before them, roaring and swirling was the Red Sea, too deep to wade, too wide to swim. Without looking, they knew there was no bridge, no side route, no alternate path to safety. The only way out was across. They had to ford that sea. 

But how? How could they cross a river with lumbering herds and tiny children? Could the wives carry each household’s possessions as the men managed the herds? Was it even possible to cart the elderly across those waters? There was no time to build rafts. No time to put their heads together for ideas. No time to weigh options. Every moment brought recapture by Pharoah closer. They needed to cross that river now, but it was utterly impassable. 

Just when it seemed like all was lost, their defeated return to Egypt a certainty, the God of the impassable showed up. “Stretch your staff out over the sea,” God commanded Moses. Immediately he obeyed. And, like a scroll, the waters of the sea rolled back revealing dry land. A path ahead. A walkway through the water. No boats necessary. No rafts needed. No soaked oxen. No drenched toddlers. They crossed completely on dry land because, with God, the impassable becomes passable. (Exodus 14)

Judah’s victory was improbable. Their predicament was horrific. They were surrounded. Death or capture seemed certain. Before them stood the army of Israel and Jeroboam intent on mayhem and destruction. Behind them, much to their surprised astonishment, was an ambush team sent by Jeroboam. There was no way out. No escape. The time for negotiations had passed. Terrified at the turn of events and worried about the improbability of escape, Judah does the only thing they know to do, the only thing anyone can do in improbable circumstances. They call on God. 

They know they can. They know He will hear. They know He will help. They know this because they have been following His commands, doing His will, walking in His ways. They know the improbable is probable because they have not abandoned Him. Resting in the knowledge He never abandons His people, they call out to Him and wait for His response. 

And it comes. As the priests blow the trumpets and the soldiers shout their battle cry, God fights their battle for them. His magnificent power miraculously routs the enemy forces. Although they flee, God hands them over to Judah and Abijah, over to the people who have been observing His commands and following His ordinances as if their lives depend on them–because they do. They successfully subdued their enemies because they depended on God, with whom the improbable becomes probable. (II Chronicles 13)

  Humanity was in a damnable state. Infested with the intrinsic sinfulness of their own selfish souls. Infected with the far-reaching effects of evil hearts and devious minds. Squandered souls adrift on the sea of life. Darkened hearts perilously hanging over the edge of a lost eternity. Desperately in need of redemption. Urgently searching for hope. Critically in need of help. Starving for salvation that seemed impossible to reach.

The blood of bulls and rams couldn’t save them. The offerings of birds and grain couldn’t buy their pardon. Their souls cost so much more than that. More than they could sacrifice. More than they could give in exchange. Far more than they could ever hope to afford. The overwhelming hopelessness of the impossible situation would have been a crushing blow. It would have been if it hadn’t been for the God of the impossible. (Matthew 19:26; Jeremiah 32:27)

 As humanity bobbed on the perilous waters of spiritual death and destruction, the God of the impossible heard their cries for help. Their desperate anguish and horrifically sinful circumstances had Him erupting off the throne of Heaven, giving orders, enacting a plan. A plan to save humanity, to give them a chance at the peace they crave, the Heaven for which their hearts so fiercely long. A plan to send His Son, Jesus, as a final, eternal sacrifice, offering forgiveness for sin, redemption, and peace. A plan to make the impossible become possible. 

And so it was. Jesus took on the form of humanity. He was born to earthly parents with human nature and fallibilities. People with whom many things were completely impossible. He lived among people who didn’t believe in Him, wouldn’t befriend Him, and tried to trick Him. Eventually, one of His closest friends betrayed Him, offering Him up to be brutally murdered for absolutely no reason. No reason except you. Except me. Except all humanity. When everything seemed lost and worthless and pointless and hopeless, God, through Jesus, showed up to save the people He so deeply loves. (John 3:16; Romans 5:8; I John 4:9-10; Romans 8:32) 

It’s what He does. God shows up for people. People in impassable, improbable, impossible circumstances. People who have lost hope, lost courage, are lost in sin. People who, without His grace, would be glumly staring into the shadows of a lost eternity. People facing circumstances so difficult, so dark they seem impassable. People who need a rescue, a refuge, a redemption. People who need deliverance from all the “imps” hanging over their pathways, discouraging their progress. (Habakkuk 3:2,13-19) 

The truth is this. The evil one has a lot of imps in his employ. He sends them out, armed with fear and doubt, to test, torment, and try to derail humanity. His sole goal is your spiritual destruction. He’s desperate to steal your eternity. So those imps come to you with incredible tales of “imp”assable, “imp”robable, “imp”ossible circumstances. They tell you God won’t get you through your horrible situation. They say God will probably fail when you need Him most. They say you are too far gone, too lost to be a recipient of the grace and mercy He so lovingly extends. I know. I’ve heard them. You’ve heard them, too. (II Corinthians 11:14; I Peter 5:8)

Just because you’ve heard the voices, because they’ve been the loudest in the room, doesn’t make them accurate. They’ve never been more wrong. At your cry of agony, angst, apprehension, God shows up. He comes to those enslaved by the chains of sin, fear, anxiety. He shows up for those condemned to eternal death. Our conquering God steps on the scene of impish impossibilities and things change. For saints, absolutely! For repenting sinners, without a doubt! When you cry out to God, no matter your circumstances, God shows up. He never abandons those who walk uprightly before Him. (Psalm 102:19-21; Psalm 9:9-10; Psalm 50:15; Acts 3:19; Proverbs 28:13; II Chronicles 30:9b) 

I don’t know what’s going on in your life right now. Perhaps you are beset by a path so blocked by obstacles it seems impassable. Perhaps you are facing situations where the likelihood of a positive outcome is improbable. Perhaps you are overcome with doubt and fear, hopelessness and despair. Or maybe you find yourself so deeply steeped in sin it seems incredible, unbelievable, impossible that God could ever enact a rescue great enough to give you Heaven, or that He’d ever even want you there. If any of these are you, and even if they aren’t, listen up!

God lives to rescue people. To saints facing deplorable, discouraging, desperate situations, He comes to bring hope and help, comfort and peace, direction and guidance. To sinners, no matter the depth of their disgrace, desertion, defection, He offers pardon, redemption, peace, and cleansing. So call on Him. Ask Him into your impassable, improbable, impossible circumstances and know that when you call, He answers. And when He answers, the imps of hell disappear. They can’t stand against His power. Our God is the Conqueror of the “imps” who makes all things passable, probable, and possible. And no matter your circumstances, you can trust Him. (Isaiah 25:4; Psalm 91:1; Jeremiah 33:3; Psalm 17:6; Acts 16:30-31; Ephesians 2:8-9; Isaiah 41:10; II Corinthians 12:9-10))

At least once a year our family takes a road trip. These are not small events. We have been known to cover up to fourteen states at a time. The trips require meticulous planning and preparation. Miles to be“ driven each day. Attractions to visit. Nightly accommodations. Clothing for every possible event and circumstance. Things for the kids to do as they ride. Candy and beverages to keep me awake as I drive. Things for the sections of road not lined with billboards.  

I’m rather addicted to reading signs. Road signs. Church signs. Business signs. Billboards. The billboards always catch my eye. Yes, I know. That’s their purpose. I get it. It works. Although I rarely adhere to their words, or run out to purchase the advertised products, I do read the signs. Some make me shake my head. Some of them remind me to keep a check on my blood pressure–an interesting choice as I impatiently sit in traffic! Some tempt me to take the next exit for ice cream–an enticing option instead of sitting in traffic! Other signs are only good for comic relief. It matters not. Whatever they’re advertising, I’m reading.  

We recently embarked on one of our notorious road trips upon which I was again reading signs. In this particular city, apparently, you can find anything. A dentist claims the ability to give you a perfect smile, thus increasing your chances of attracting the perfect mate. A weight management specialist can get you from consultation to weight loss surgery in only two weeks. Money management companies and personal injury lawyers can help you gain and manage your funds. Hospitals, doctors, and medical companies want to remind you to take care of your heart, your diabetes, and your colon. Rehabilitation facilities remind you their services are available should you need them. All of the signs beg you to choose their services in an effort to enhance your current life and prepare you for a fabulous future.

The truth is, the signs might be encouraging you to do something good. I hope you do it. I hope you take care of yourself, let go of your vices, watch out for your health. I hope you are wise with your money, plan for the future, and buy life insurance. Most of all, I hope you already know and live by the lesson of the one billboard I read that was truly worth my time. The one that imprinted in my mind and put all the other billboards in perspective. The one that simply read, “Are you prepared to meet God?” 

It was tucked in the middle of all those signs encouraging folks to prepare for life. Enrich your wallet, your hair, your health, your body, your mind. It looked like another medical sign. A green line zigzagged across a dark background like the lines on a heart monitoring machine, the universal signal of life. Yet there, instead of another reminder to check your blood pressure, check your heart function, check for diabetes, were those all-important words, “Are you prepared to meet God?”

We rarely hear that question. We should hear it more. We should hear it from the pulpit, from our parents, from our friends. We should be asking it of one another. We should constantly be reminding our family, friends, neighbors, even strangers, that there is something more important than this old world for which we must be preparing. 

It is so easy to forget. Advertising has taken over our lives, swaying the way we think, behave, spend and save. We busy ourselves following all the things we see advertised on television, read in pamphlets at the doctor’s office, or see on a billboard while we sit in rush hour traffic. We follow the stock market like it’s our savior, carefully choosing when to invest or sell. We budget and save, throwing every unused penny into a savings account, hoping to ensure a comfortable retirement. We lose weight, do yoga, exercise, take handfuls of vitamins, diffuse essential oils, and follow the advice of every new health guru. That is all well and good. Maybe it will enhance your future. Maybe it will change your life. None of it will salvage your eternity. (I Timothy 4:8)

And right now is the time to do that. Prepare for eternity. In Matthew 25, Jesus tells a parable of 10 virgins awaiting the bridegroom’s arrival so they could go in and partake of the marriage feast. They didn’t know when he would arrive. They had no idea he would be delayed. They only knew they wanted to be present and ready when he came. Five of them made meticulous preparations. They trimmed their lamps, filled them with oil so they could light the way should he come at night. Then they took up their post to wait. 

Not so the other five. They simply rushed out to stand in line. They wanted admission to the feast. They wanted to greet the bridegroom. Yet they made no preparations. Their lamps were haphazardly assembled. The wicks were ragged. The oil was low. They had put little to no effort into preparing for the wedding feast. It showed. 

 Day turned to night as the 10 waited for the bridegroom to come. They grew drowsy, dozed off. Suddenly, in the middle of the night, he arrived. They all jumped up and readied their lamps. But the five who had not prepared earlier found themselves without oil to burn, with no light for their way. They rushed off in hopes of replenishing their oil in time to slip in the door before it was closed. They didn’t make it. 

In desperation they banged on the door, begging entrance. The groom wasn’t having it. Their lack of preparation had shown him the place he held in their lives. Their knocking resulted in the response, “No admittance. I don’t know you.” If only they had filled their lamps and gathered extra oil before they left home. If only they had trimmed their wicks. If only their lamps had been brightly burning when the bridegroom arrived. But they weren’t. Instead of preparers, they were procrastinators. It didn’t work for them. (Matthew 25:1-13) 

It won’t work out for you either. You can’t wait until the last minute. You can’t waste your life chasing down the billboards and trends and preparations of the world when you should be preparing for Heaven. You can’t put your hope in a deathbed repentance. You have to prepare ahead of time. Right now. This is the time. Today is the day. You need to prepare for eternity now.  (Hebrews 3:15; II Corinthians 6:2)

And you need to do it every day of your life. You need to live every moment as if it is preparing you for entrance into Heaven, because it is. Every word needs to pass the test of acceptability before God. Every thought must be brought into obedience to Christ. Every action should imitate Jesus. Every part of your heart must be pure if you wish to enter Heaven and see God. The fact that you haven’t seen it advertised or plastered on a billboard makes it no less important. Does your life reflect your preparedness to meet God? (Psalm 19:14; II Corinthians 10:5; Ephesians 5:1-2; Matthew 5:8)

Jesus has gone to prepare a place for us. A holy place. A place for those who take the time from their busy earthly schedule to prepare for Heaven. He wants you to be there. It’s your choice. You can choose to prepare solely for the things the world says you should and hope you have time to prepare for Heaven later. Or you can choose to prepare now. Seek God’s kingdom to reign in your heart and life. Trust Him to add the earthly things you need. Make Heavenly preparations and rest in the confident knowledge that you can affirmatively answer when asked, “Are you prepared to meet God?” (John 14:3; Matthew 6:33; I Corinthians 16:13; Romans 13:11-14)

It seems like an incredibly strange time to ask such a ponderous question. Solomon had to be exhausted, his brain in overdrive. The maelstrom of recent events surely had his mind asking questions, but finding no definitive answers. Before his death, King David had assigned Solomon the tremendous task of building the temple. In spite of all the preparations already in place, where, exactly, does one start such a daunting task? He’d attentively listened to the speeches and blessings and prayers of his late father, mentally storing the words for later recall. So why couldn’t he remember them now? He could barely remember his own coronation and speeches, sacrifices, and offerings. The mantle of kingly responsibility now rested heavily on his shoulders. The people were depending on him. His abilities. His guidance. His leadership. In the morning he’d be expected to act like the king, but how does a king act? How do you rule fairly? On what do you base decisions? How do you judge between people?  What do you say when you don’t have a ready answer? 

Because we know the rest of the story, it is often difficult for us to see King Solomon, the wealthy and wise, burdened by a heart full of indecisive questions. It is unlikely he wasn’t. Sequestered in his room that night, pacing the floor, attempting to sleep, or gazing out a window lost in thought, Solomon got a visit. I wonder what he expected to hear when God showed up. Words of advice? A list of choices and consequences? A reiteration of the law? I don’t know. However, it is unlikely a stretch to think Solomon was surprised when the Lord said, “Ask me for anything. What do you want me to give you?” (II Chronicles 1:7)

Surely his human mind scrambled for the right answer. What should he say? Was this a trick question? What was the catch? Was it a test? Would he really get whatever he asked? And for what should he ask? Is this request for himself or for his entire kingdom? What was something they all needed and would benefit them for years to come? 

Interestingly, Solomon didn’t answer the Lord immediately. He had to find his faith. Mulling over his options, he verbally ruminates on the exhibitions of the great and faithful love of God. It seems like he’s reminding God. He’s not. Solomon is reminding himself. He’s reassuring himself that God is trustworthy and keeps his promises. His own coronation was a case in point. It was the fulfillment of God’s promise to keep David’s descendant on the throne of Israel. That remembrance was the moment faith dawned. You can almost see it when you read the passage, almost audibly hear the click as faith takes over the wheel. He knew the God who had kept all those promises to His people in the past would follow through on His word this time too. God would give him whatever he asked. And ask he did! Not for greater power, more money, or higher status among the surrounding nations. No. Solomon asked for the one thing he needed most. Wisdom. (II Chronicles 1:7-10)

Perhaps you have no trouble believing wisdom was the first thing that crossed Solomon’s mind. Me? I’m not so sure. He was human, after all. There were a million other things he could have asked for. Things we’d all think about before we considered wisdom an option. Wealth. Health. Power. Safety. Better behaved neighbors. The list is pretty much endless. Yet, after a quick mental tally of things he needed and wanted, Solomon had the wisdom to ask for wisdom. God’s wisdom. The kind that trumps human thought processes, deductive reasoning, and common sense. Solomon asked for wisdom to hear God’s speaking voice, see His guiding hand. And his request was granted. (II Chronicles 1:8-13)

Solomon earns my respect on this request alone. I’m afraid I wouldn’t handle the opportunity so well. I’d be tempted to blurt out the first thing that came to mind. I most certainly would have to reign in my humanity. I’d have to block out the silly, temporary, earth-focused matters. I’d have to sift through all the things that seem so important and necessary and impossible to live without because I desperately need wisdom. Not just for parenting, or problem solving, or choosing a career path. I need wisdom to ask for the proper things. Wisdom to guide my request choice. Wisdom for asking.

So often we are guilty of accosting God like the mythical genie-in-a-bottle. We adamantly pray for our wants and wishes. The new car when our old one is fine. A bigger house when the one we live in is sufficient. Three hundred dollars for a new designer handbag, pair of shoes, or tickets to a ballgame. We ask for silly things. Beg for them, really. Things we don’t need. Things that aren’t useful. Things that fail to enrich our spiritual journey. Requests that wildly cry out how desperately we need wisdom prior to asking. (James 4:3)

Sensing this deficit in the human mindset, James was compelled to write, “If you find yourself lacking in wisdom, ask God for more.” (James 1:5) Perhaps it would have been more accurate to use the word, “when”. “When you find yourself lacking in wisdom”…because we all find ourselves there. You. Me. Everyone. Admit it. Wits’ end is a place with which we are all very, very familiar. The truth is we rarely know what to do, how to handle things, where to turn. We are often confused, conflicted, confounded. But God is not. He is never left wondering what to do. And He is willing to share His wisdom. Liberally. (James 1:5; “God gives wisdom liberally to all who ask.”) 

 Isn’t that the best word? Liberally. I love it in this context. Not every translation uses it. They should. It speaks of more, of excess. Like the enormous layer of cream cheese on my bagel. Like the overflowing pile of whipped cream on my daughter’s ice cream. Like the copious amounts of coffee I consume. Like the faithful love of God poured out on us over and over and over again. The word “liberally” speaks to the overabundant generosity of God when granting us wisdom to ask for what we truly need, for what will benefit our souls most, for what will positively impact our eternity. Wisdom that knows the difference between wants and needs, desires and demands, earthly and heavenly. Wisdom for asking and faith to believe it will be so. 

Because faith is a vital part of the equation. Solomon had to summon the faith to believe his request would be granted. James reiterates that need. “Ask in strong, unwavering faith. Believe God will grant your request for wisdom. Do not doubt.” (James 1:6) Don’t be timid. Don’t be embarrassed. Don’t be afraid. Come boldly before God. Make your request. Ask for wisdom. Believe you will receive it. Liberally. And you will. (Hebrews 4:16)

I don’t know what you would ask for if you were in Solomon’s shoes. Perhaps you are so composed and mature you wouldn’t just blurt out the first thing that came to your mind. Perhaps you would take some time to think, ponder, reflect, weigh the pros and cons of your options. Perhaps you know yourself so well you would automatically ask for something sensible. Bless you!

But maybe you are like me. A little rash. A bit quick to choose. Maybe it takes all of your strength to zip your lips and contemplate the asking before you do it. I hope you do. I hope you use your strength that way. I hope you wait and ask God for direction in prayer. I hope you ask Him for wisdom. Wisdom for circumstances, choices, chances. Wisdom for life and love. Wisdom for every situation you face. Wisdom before you ask, as you ask, and after you ask. I hope you experience the liberal outpouring of God’s faithfulness, love and wisdom every day, all day, in every circumstance. (Proverbs 2:1-6; Proverbs 3:13; Ecclesiastes 7:12; James 3:17; Ephesians 1:16-18)

There were no televisions in my childhood home. Not because they didn’t exist. They did. In color, too! My parents simply chose not to own one. If current-day programming and commercials are anything to judge by, we missed nothing.  

We weren’t without something to do indoors when inclement weather struck, though. We had a radio. Perhaps you remember them. The little box with an inlaid speaker, dials on the top or side, and an extendable antenna. Ours was a strange shade of dirty white. It looked like it had been handled by dirty hands too frequently. Perhaps it had. Perhaps that was the originally intended shade. Perhaps the look was an indication of its age. Regardless, we weren’t interested in how it looked. We cared only that it worked. And it did! 

Our radio had its own little resting spot on the half wall between the dining area and living room of our tiny parsonage home. My brother’s dining chair was closest to it. Man, he loved that radio. We probably listened to more programs because of him than we ever would have otherwise. I can still see him huddled there, chair turned to face the wall to put him in closest proximity to the little box, knees nearly pressed into the faux wood paneling, ears tuned to hear every word that came over the airwaves. Saturday morning children’s stories. Mid-day Paul Harvey programs. Evening “Unshackled” accounts of lives changed by the grace of God. I wonder if he still remembers the actual stories he heard. I know I don’t. 

What I do remember, with astonishing clarity given the decades between then and now, is a commercial-style clip played between programs. The radio waves would fill with the wild roar of a revving car engine followed by the screech of violently braking tires. Instead of the expected sound of madly crushing metal, a voice would follow, asking, “Excuse me. Could you give me directions…to Heaven?” 

As the announcer would do in the next section of the clip, that question compels me to ask, “Don’t you wish sharing Jesus with others was that easy?” Seriously. Wouldn’t it be nice if people just came up to you and ask if you could point them to a good church? How amazing would it be if folks stopped you in the grocery store and asked how Jesus could change their lives? How wonderful would it be if strangers stopped their cars, rolled down their windows, and cried out for you to help them prepare to meet God? 

Unfortunately, leading people to Heaven isn’t that easy. Especially not in America. Here everyone has their own gospel version to which they subscribe. Everyone seems to pick and choose which passage to underscore and which to eliminate. At a time when current commercials on big screen televisions or tiny handheld devices bombard our minds with the urgent necessity of self-care, hair-care, and medical care, but never suggest soul care, witnessing for Jesus can be incredibly difficult. 

In truth, witnessing for Jesus looks a lot different than it used to look. It used to involve handing out leaflets, knocking on doors, and singing or preaching on street corners. Today, when everyone wants you to stay out of their business, witnessing looks more like living your life the way you do every day. It looks like consistently living out the belief in Jesus Christ as alive and present in your world. It looks like weaving words of praise and prayer and faith into your everyday conversations, no matter if you are conversing with saints or sinners. It looks like being ready at a moment’s notice to take every opportunity to inject the Gospel into someone else’s life. 

It looks like deeds, too. Actions and reactions. How you treat your children. How you interact with the other preschool moms. How you react when the neighbor’s trash blows into your yard…again! How many times you sigh and roll your eyes at the person behind the checkout counter who is moving more slowly than you would like. You can use words and talk a great game about faith in Jesus and life-changing experiences, but your actions have to match up with the words coming out of your mouth.  (James 2:14-26) 

Multiple times in Jesus’ ministry, He makes a statement to this effect, “You will know My disciples by their fruits.” (Matthew 7:16; Matthew 12:33; Luke 6:43) Some believe the fruits are actions. Some believe the fruits are words. I would submit they are both. The state of your heart and the truth of your faith, are each exhibited in what you say and do. By what comes out of your life, they will know you love Jesus. By your care for the neighbors, they will know you truly follow Him. By your treatment of the drunk on the street corner, the drug addict in the alley, the prostitute on the strip, they will know how deeply you believe His commands. By the way you respond to negative circumstances, heated conversations, and frustrating moments, the people looking on can easily deduce to Whom you belong. Every minute of your life should point people to Jesus. In word, yes. But also in deed. (Proverbs 4:23; Matthew 15:17-20)

Unfortunately, it is unlikely anyone will ever walk up to you and ask you for directions to Heaven. I hope you have an answer ready if it ever happens!  I also hope you remember that it is just as unlikely that no one is watching your life, desperately hoping you will show them the way by how you live. People in your office building, your neighborhood, your ball team. People you meet at the dog park. People you see every day, all day. People who are impacted by your actions long before they are impressed by your words. People like your children, those beautiful souls who learn to imitate us long before they learn to clearly speak and reason.  

A couple of Sundays ago, I sat behind some folks who had their baby with them in service. I love that. Children belong in church with us. She loved it too. I would guess her to be somewhere around the 15-month mark. As we stood, the band played, and the singing started, her tiny hand shot up in the air in imitation of people around her whose hands were raised in praise. She’s never chatty in church. Doesn’t cause a stir during the sermon. But she is always watching. Watching and learning. Learning about the people around her. Just like the rest of us. 

I don’t know what your week looks like. Maybe it’s crazy and stressful and frustrating. Maybe the mountain of unsettling circumstances looming above has your temper short, your patience thin. I don’t know whose life you touch regularly or will touch this week for the first time. Maybe they’ll test your limits, hurt your feelings, break your heart. Maybe you’ll be tempted to retaliate with sarcasm, nasty words, or pure meanness. I hope you don’t. I hope you take a deep breath, remember that you might be the only Gospel they read, the only Jesus they meet, and you’ll live your devotion to Jesus out so loudly you point them to Heaven. (Titus 3:1-10; Ephesians 5:1-2)

The conclusion of the matter is this–love God and live like it. With every action, you are either pointing people to Jesus or away from Him. It really is that simple. Whether the question is ever verbalized to you or not, you are handing out directions to Heaven with every kind action, every time you take the high road, every time you turn the other cheek. Anyone, indeed everyone, can claim they know Jesus, but the whole world will know if it is true simply by the way you live your life.  (Ecclesiastes 12:13; Colossians 4:6; I John 3:18; James 1:22; Matthew 5:39)

So go be the light of the world. Go be the salt of the earth. Go and make disciples of all nations. Start with your children and work your way out. Tell them. Show them. The world is waiting, lost, and dying, desperate for you to fulfill the mission God gave you. So go do it. Go show them. With your life, go give them directions to Heaven. (Matthew 5:13-16; Matthew 28:19; Deuteronomy 4:9-10, 6:5-9)

I believe in the power of prayer. I believe when God’s people come before Him with needs and burdens, His heart is moved with compassion to help. I believe there is nothing too small to bring before Him. I believe there is no obstacle so large He can’t move it, move through it, move around it. I believe there is nothing God can’t do. 

I also believe in the power of faith in prayer. Faith that brings a situation to God, lays it down and trusts Him to handle it. Faith that rests in the knowledge that the all-knowing God who inhabits eternity will work on behalf of His people. No matter how impossible the situation, how desperate the need, how short the timing. This faith doesn’t come to God with forceful suggestions, arrogant ideas, pressing plans. It is outrageous faith. Steady faith, even if you are shaking in your boots, confused by the conundrum, stymied by the situation. The kind of faith Jehoash needed but didn’t have. (Isaiah 64:4; Isaiah 57:15)

He wasn’t expecting to play archery games with a dying man when he set out to visit an elderly and ailing Elisha. The visit alone was unusual enough. Since when do kings take time to visit dying prophets? The fact that Jehoash was carrying his bow and arrows was likely more habit than necessity for this engagement. He’d heard Elisha was ill and soon to pass away. He had come to pay his respects and mourn the loss of God’s prophet from the land of Israel. He wasn’t headed out to fight a battle. He had no row with Elisha, no idea he’d be using his weapons that day. He was simply always prepared. 

Elisha was likely not the first person Jehoash had seen or spoken with on their deathbed. In a day of such brutal and violent fighting, he’d probably seen more than he cared to remember.  He’d probably heard many requests whispered from nearly lifeless lips. Regardless of what he had heard in the past, these commands from the lips of the dying prophet of God were likely the most outrageous requests Jehoash had ever heard. Who chooses to shoot arrows in their final moments on earth? Who gets to do so with a king? Who so desperately needs to use an object lesson to make one last point, one final prophecy before meeting their Maker? Apparently, Elisha. Although the fact he needed an object lesson to convey his message is a scathing indictment of his audience, at least Jehoash knew better than to defy the command. 

Indeed, it is a point in Jehoash’s favor that he quietly did as Elisha asked. No questions. No arguments. No alleged concern for the physical limitation of the prophet. Surprised by the command or not, when Elisha tells him to take up his bow and arrows, open the east window, and shoot through it, Jehoash unquestioningly does so. Surely he wondered why. Surely his mind swirled with questions. Had the prophet finally gone round the bend? Was Elisha still in control of his faculties? Perhaps he thought simply to pacify a dying man. Whatever Jehoash was thinking, he set it aside and granted Elisha’s request. 

Was he ever glad he did! That flying arrow was Elisha’s commissioning of him as the one to lead the troops to strike down and conquer Aram. God had spoken through the prophet. Victory would most assuredly be theirs! With his heart doing a bit of a victory jig, Jehoash thinks to put his weapons away. It would seem the oddity of the hour is over. But no. Elisha isn’t done. He has more deathbed instructions. 

“Grab your arrows,” he commands, “Shoot some more.” 

If Jehoash was waiting for specifics, he’d still be waiting. No exacting instructions were forthcoming. There was no explanation for letting more arrows fly. Elisha rested back, expecting complete obedience from the king. And it came. Jehoash nocked another arrow and let it fly through the window. Once. Twice. Three times. Apparently, he thought that should be enough to satisfy the prophet. He lowered his bow, content that Elisha’s wishes had been fulfilled. He couldn’t have been more wrong. 

As he turns to Elisha with satisfaction, Jehoash is met with a stony expression of anger. 

“Why did you stop? Why didn’t you let more arrows fly? You should have sent double that amount! Now you will only strike down Aram three times! If you hadn’t been so timid, you would be able to wipe them out completely!” (II Kings 13:14-20) 

It is easy to imagine how deflated Jehoash felt. After hearing that he would defeat Aram, why didn’t he realize the shooting of more arrows dealt with the same? Proper defeat of the enemy had been within his grasp and he’d been too afraid to claim it. If only he’d had more faith. If he’d just kept shooting arrows out the window until Elisha spoke words of satisfaction. If he’d shot with wild abandon. If his heart hadn’t been too puny to believe in something his eyes couldn’t see. How different the outcome would be if only he’d have asked for the outrageous! 

Most of us find it difficult to believe in the outrageous. We call ourselves realists. We believe in logic and reasoning. We trust what we can see, feel, and write down on paper. We pray the same way. Decide what, exactly, can be done about a situation, then ask for that to happen. Apparently, we aren’t brave enough to believe the infinite Creator can handle our cares without our finite human help. So rarely do we bring things to God and ask Him to handle them, trust Him to take care of them, without also giving Him a list of possible rectifying options.

Don’t trick yourself into believing this is faith. It isn’t. Faith does not tell God how to do His job, it simply trusts that He will. Faith does not require logic and reasoning, it knows our ways are not God’s nor His ours. Faith operates outside the realm of logic and reasoning. Faith operates in the unknown. Faith goes into action when we open the windows of our lives and hearts and repeatedly fire prayer arrows into our unknown, trusting God to make it known in His time. Prayer is the bridge that takes us from the stodgy logic of our humanity to the boundless broadness of God’s infinity. Faith in God and prayer to God make all things possible, even if we have no idea how they will come about. (Hebrews 11:1-40; Matthew 21:22; Matthew 17:20: Mark 10:27)

Admittedly, I frequently find myself attempting to help God answer my prayers. I often present Him with requests followed by possible options to acquire the desired outcome. I’m learning, though. Learning that God has better ideas than mine ever were. Learning that His timing is more perfect than mine ever could be. Learning that even when my puny heart is shaking, prayers of faith–for big things and small–reap outrageous results. 

Recently, I found myself presenting a dire need to God, but being sorely out of ideas to remedy the situation. A personal acquaintance had been in a downward spiral for some time.  

Skateboarding the rails of sin, leaving the shredded pieces of her life in ruins behind her, she desperately needed a meeting with Jesus. I’d prayed for her on several occasions, though probably not as often or fervently as I should have, possibly because I didn’t have any rectifying ideas to present with my prayers. I offer no excuses. 

One morning, I couldn’t shake the burden of her calamitous circumstances. Deeply burdened, I felt encouraged to ask God to give her a Damascus road experience. Like Saul, she needed a head-on collision with Jesus Christ. A life-changing confrontation with God that would forever alter the course of her life. I remember praying these words, “Lord, I don’t know how You are going to do it. I don’t have any suggestions, but please give her a Damascus road experience.” (Acts 9:1-9)

Just a few days later, word came that she had been hospitalized. An innocuous accident had caused pain not in keeping with the event. A serious underlying condition was revealed. It took several days for her to be released, and then with cautions. The change has been remarkable. Not that there isn’t still work to do, but clearly, God is working. God is answering our prayers. And I’m still praying. Not because I have ideas, answers, remedies, or quick fixes, but because I know when we launch out in pure faith and let God do what He sees fit, outrageous, amazing, miraculous things happen. 

I’d have never chosen or asked for God to plague our friend with illness. I wouldn’t have prayed for hospitalization or dire warnings of impending death if medical advice was ignored. No one prays that way. Nor am I encouraging you to start. I’m simply saying that when we cast aside our preconceived notions and arrogant directives and come to God in blind faith, we can trust Him to do His job.

At a time when there are so many things to pray about and for and over, I hope you pray outrageous, courageous prayers. I hope you ask God for things you can’t imagine, things you can’t make happen, things you have no idea how to enact. I hope you pray over the unknown. I hope you keep praying. I hope that, when you are tempted to pray once and quit, you’ll keep praying anyway. When you feel like God isn’t answering because too much time has elapsed, don’t give up. When your faith shakes and shudders and weakens beneath the force of your human desire to know and do and rationalize, I hope you gather up the vestiges of your puny heart, boldly pray outrageous prayers, then sit back and watch God work. (Lamentations 3:25-26; I Thessalonians 5:16-18)

And He will work. He always does. So keep shooting arrows. Keep praying outrageous prayers, even when your faith is timid and puny. Keep asking. Keep seeking. Keep knocking. Keep watching. You don’t want to miss it when God’s outrageous answer comes. (Matthew 7:7-8; Jeremiah 29:13; I John 5:14; Ephesians 4:20)