Jesus Isn't Decaf (By Naomi Meyers)

They told him everything would be fine. A little skirmish. A few arrows. Some drawn swords. No problem. They told him to go to battle with Ramoth-Gilead. They said God was with him. They said Ahab and Israel, with the help of Jehoshaphat and Judah, would win the day. Four hundred men agreed. Four hundred men encouraged. Four hundred men speaking without consulting God. 

It was the way Ahab wanted it. He didn’t want to hear from God. He wanted results skewed in his favor. He wanted his own way. He didn’t want to hear what the true prophet of God had to say. He had purposely surrounded himself with worthless advisors and “prophets” that would tell him only what he wanted to hear. Men who wouldn’t call him on his sin. Men who would condone his impulses and desires. Men who wouldn’t dare impede his waltz down the path of impending doom.  

Not so Jehoshaphat. As much as the marriage alliance with Ahab made him feel compelled to join the battle against Ramoth-Gilead, his allegiance to God made him ask for one important favor. He wanted to know God’s will before they went into battle. Did they have God’s approval? His presence? His favor? Or should they just stay home? 

He wasn’t willing to leave the decision up to 400 imposters, either. He wasn’t looking for silver-tongued yes-men. He didn’t want to hare off on an ill-advised suicide mission. He wanted to hear what God had to say. He wanted to know that God was on his side. He wanted to hear words from a true prophet of God. So he asked Ahab to consult one.

Reluctantly, with much whining and moaning, Ahab called Micaiah, God’s prophet. True to form, the news was not what Ahab wanted to hear. He wasn’t going to win this battle. In fact, he wasn’t even coming home. Disaster was about to befall him. A lying spirit had entered the mouths of his advisors and he chose to listen. Not to the voice of truth spoken through Micaiah, but to the siren song, the pleasant words, the adulterated affirmation of a lie. The result was calamitous. 

No matter how hard he tried to hide, change his appearance, or order his men to fight on his behalf, Ahab couldn’t change the results of his poor choices. While God covered Jehoshaphat with his protection, Ahab chose to remain on his own, to fight his own battles. He thought he could change the outcome in his favor, prove God’s prophet wrong. He actually believed the lies he wanted to hear. Because he did, he was in the wrong place when a man randomly shot an arrow into the melee, striking Ahab between the joints of his armor. 

Knowing he was badly wounded, aware that death was imminent, Ahab sat propped up in his chariot at the edge of the battlefield, writhing in pain, watching the battle, waiting as his life ebbed from his body. For the rest of the day, he sat there, his eyes glued to the battle before him. At sunset, he exhaled his final breath, his life wasted because he chose a comfortable lie over an unpleasant truth. (II Chronicles 18)

 Although there is nothing in the account to indicate such, it has crossed my mind to wonder if Ahab regretted his choice. Did he sit in that chariot, his life slipping away, and wish he’d stayed home? Did he wish, instead of listening to 400 men trained to immediately bless his choices, he’d have listened to the one who didn’t? Did he regret not seeking God before it came to this? Did he wish he hadn’t chosen to learn the hard way? In the final moments of his life, as the truth he rejected became reality, did he wish he’d lived differently? If he had, perhaps then I could admire him. 

As it stands, there is little to admire about Ahab. His laudable qualities are few, if indeed he had any at all. Yet as I read the accounts of his life, I find it impossible to miss how like him all humanity is. We are selfish, arrogant beings desperate to have our own way, hear only the things we want to hear, do only the things we want to do. We want to believe we are right when we choose the path of least resistance, the shortcut, the plan that doesn’t seem to require approval from God. We are highly susceptible to the voice of the liar. It’s the voice we want to hear. It gives us the answer we seek. It says we are right even when we are wrong. It enables us to block out the voice of truth and encourages us to wholly seek our own desires. And we do. 

If you are reclining in your easy chair skim-reading this because you believe it can’t possibly apply to you, look again. Be honest. Re-evaluate. How often do you decide something God calls sin can’t possibly be sin because “everyone else” is doing it? How frequently do you decide His Word doesn’t apply in our day and age? Do you repeatedly allow the voices of the world, the lies of the 400 advisors, to obscure the voice of truth? Do you continually find yourself treading water in the shoals when you could be cruising in the deep? You could be, but you chose to believe the agreeable lies and ignore the objectionable truth. 

We aren’t the first generation to do this. Believe lies instead of truths or seek our own way instead of adhering to God’s perfect plan. It’s been happening since the dawn of time. Eve believed a lie and ate the fruit for which she lusted. Their consequential ejection from the Garden of Eden and introduction to a life of hardship, illness, and pain hardly seems worth that taste of forbidden fruit. How much joy and peace and blessing did Adam and Eve sacrifice for just a moment of their own way? (Genesis 2:15-3:24)

A group of the children of Israel, angry at the lack of amenities in their wilderness experience, begged for some creature comforts until God gave in. They got their wish but paid a steep price. With the first bite of quail, as they began to chew, a severe plague struck. People became ill. People died. Those who lived would testify to the fact that the results of their badgering, complaining, and discontent, were absolutely not worth the reward. (Numbers 11) 

They won’t be for you either. You can enjoy the pleasures of sin for a time. You can choose to believe you are entitled to Heaven and God would never allow a being He loves to spend eternity in Hell. You can hope you are right. You aren’t. You can blindly follow the world as it races to destruction, condoning what God calls sin, arguing to mitigate or change God’s commands, telling you to trust yourself above all things. You can adhere to their philosophy, and hope they are right. They aren’t. You can ignore all the people who come to you in love and ask about your relationship with Jesus. You can tell them it isn’t their business. You can brush aside their concern. You can even pretend to listen and adhere. You can attend church, sing the songs, nod your head and say, “Amen.” You can tell yourself it is enough. It isn’t. (Isaiah 5:20-21; Romans 1:18-23; James 1:22)

The only “enough” there will ever be is the wholehearted following of the true words, commands, and statutes of God. They might be uncomfortable. You might struggle over following them when no one else is doing it. You might not even see the point. The evil one won’t make it any easier. The voice of that liar will come to you and whisper that it is okay to let up, change, ignore those soul safeguards. Don’t be deceived. Don’t scorn God’s words. It didn’t work for Ahab, it won’t work for you. The wages of sin are still eternal death, no matter what the world is trying to tell you. (Deuteronomy 30:19-20; John 8:44; Galatians 6:7; Romans 6:23) 

It is unfortunate that Ahab didn’t have or chose not to adhere to Proverbs 14:12 in his day. It perfectly sums up the answer to the conundrum of choosing palatable lies over unappealing truth. The writer simply pens these words, “There is a way that seems right to a person, but it ends in spiritual, eternal death.” The bottom line? You can use all your human powers of deduction, selection, logic, and reasoning, but unless you are following God’s way, listening only to His voice, you are headed for destruction. It’s unavoidable. (Romans 6:16; Proverbs 30:12)

So seek the Voice of Truth above all other voices. If you desire human advice, choose your advisors with caution. Choose your inner circle, your closest friends with prayerful care. And listen. Listen when you feel the prick of conscience, the subtle leading in a direction you wouldn’t necessarily choose. Listen when your godly advisors steer you down a path paved with Scriptures even when it isn’t what you want to hear. Examine yourself when trusted friends gently, lovingly point out signs of gathering resentment, bubbling rebellion, or necessary restitution in your life. Listen. Adhere. Remember this. As uncomfortable as all these things may be, as much as you don’t want to hear them, don’t want to admit them, don’t want to follow them, the reward will certainly be worth the adherence. Peace in your soul. The smile of God’s approval. The guiding care of His hand. The joy of a Heavenly eternity. There is nothing more valuable than these! (Psalm 119:105, 133; Proverbs 12:26; Galatians 5:16; Romans 12:2)

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)