Romans 4:19-25

Abraham didn’t focus on his own impotence and say, “It’s hopeless. This hundred-year-old body could never father a child.” Nor did he survey Sarah’s decades of infertility and give up. He didn’t tiptoe around God’s promise asking cautiously skeptical questions. He plunged into the promise and came up strong, ready for God, sure that God would make good on what he had said. That’s why it is said, “Abraham was declared fit before God by trusting God to set him right.” But it’s not just Abraham; it’s also us! The same thing gets said about us when we embrace and believe the One who brought Jesus to life when the conditions were equally hopeless. The sacrificed Jesus made us fit for God, set us right with God.

Tenacious. Persistent. Faith-full.

These are the marks of Abraham, the father of all people who embrace what God does for them. Insiders and outsiders. Circumsized and uncircumsized. The background doesn’t matter. What matters is the mark of God on his heart, not a knife pressed on his skin.

One could claim reward or a payoff for a hard day’s work. But no Abraham. He was impotent. The father of many nations has his work cut out for him as far as reproduction goes.

The problem is indeed big. But God’s promise is even bigger: Abraham and his offsprings will fill the earth. All he needs to do?

Trust.

Believe.

Enter into what God is doing. Plunge into the promise. Be ready for God’s move.

Hold Him to His word!

We are all led to believe that we de-serve something for what we put into our days. We think it’s our rightful entitlement. Sure enough some people do get their dues for not just days but for years of toiling in the field.

But what if the ledger of effort and payoff doesn’t balance? When we don’t get what we deserve because of some glitch in the system? When the problem we face is beyond us? That even those that we think could help us, simply can’t?

It all seems hopeless. At times. No talent. No opportunities. No resources. Impotence.

My shot at stamping my mark on the world’s playground of significance dissipates into a flicker with every year passed.

Oh, but it was never about me, was it? I’ve kept myself believing that I must sort my life out the way I knew how. By my own strength and wisdom. But Abraham, Father Faith, was declared fit before God because he trusted him to set things right. According to the promise He gave him. Which is infinitely bigger than all I could ever dream or imagine.

My world is too small, plagued by the see-saw questioning of God’s intentions over my life. I must, like Abraham, plunge deep into the promise. Build my fort. Be strong and ready. Tenaciously hold on to what He said to me. I can’t let Him off the hook.

God, make good on what You promised. You painted a picture of an entrance to a land flowing with milk and honey. All I need to do is to lift my head. March onwards and take possession of the land. (Joshua 1) I still can’t see it yet. But I’m not letting You off the hook on this one. I’m gonna build my fort. Help me trust You. Enough of the see-saw skeptical questioning. Let me dive deep into the promise. Your Son’s death on the cross sets me right before You. And I appropriate that baffling act of sacrifice by trusting You to put everything right. Insider or not. Circumcised or not. Impotent or not as I might be led to believe. Today, I’m holding on to hope.

So let it be.

Sometimes the beauty is in trying.

Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I’ve climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds, — and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of — wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov’ring there,
I’ve chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air. . . .

Up, up the long, delirious burning blue
I’ve topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace
Where never lark, or ever eagle flew —
And, while with silent, lifting mind I’ve trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.

— John Gillespie Magee, Jr

I wanna soar with a freedom I’ve never known before. Unbound by the worries of this world. Into that space with the faith to live in the Present.

Therefore, my dear friends, as you have always obeyed—not only in my presence, but now much more in my absence—continue to work out your salvation with fear and trembling, (not being scared or afraid but in the holy reverential fear in the presence of God) for it is God who works in you (I must remember this) to will and to act in order to fulfill his good purpose. Do everything without grumbling or arguing, so that you may become blameless and pure, “children of God without fault in a warped and crooked generation.” Then you will shine among them like stars in the sky as you hold firmly to the word of life.

- Philippians 2:12-15

Perhaps it’s time to grow up.

TELL ME, WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME? WHAT MUST I DO?

I want nothing from you.

Yet, I want everything of you.

“Make it a point to notice, and either adjust or celebrate, where you are today.”

Too often, we extrapolate and plan too far ahead as far as our lives are concerned. Kristin Armstrong (yes, that’s lance’s ex-wife) approaches life like a slow marathon, one mile marker at a time.

I don’t think I need to know about tomorrow. I trust you.

There are two places where you simply will not find God. The past and the future. The only place where you find God is in the present.

Hear me son. Everything will be fine. I’m here. – I AM