Anger. Bitterness. Resentment. Doubt. Accusations. Isolation.
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How did we get here? 
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A. W. Tozer once said that what we believe about God is the most important thing about us.

Hannah Whitall Smith explained this idea further in her book, The Unselfishness of God, where she wrote:

What we believe about God is the cornerstone in the foundation of our lives. If we believe things that are not true about God, it will affect everything else we think and believe in life; however, when we believe the truth about God, it becomes a beautiful lens through which we can properly see ourselves and the world around us.

There are five major areas of concern when it comes to what we believe about God:  Is God really good?  Does God really love me? Is God really enough for me? Are God’s laws really that important – or even relevant? Is God really in control? 
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I think it’s safe to say that no one intentionally chooses to believe that God is not good, that He is unloving, that He’s not enough for us, that His commands are meaningless, and that He’s not really in control. However, many of us are living as though those things are true. Subtle lies have crept into our thinking and have begun to affect the way we live. Therefore it’s necessary for us to take a step back and look at the evidence in our lives, look at God’s word, and ask Him reveal what’s true about Him and about us.

Our starting point is God’s goodness. If God is not good, everything else in scripture crumbles to pieces. If God is not good, our lives are meaningless. If God is not good, we have no hope in life, or in death. Everything hinges on this one truth of God’s goodness.

Instead of assuming that you already know and believe this truth, I would caution you and challenge you to consider if it’s possible that you have unintentionally fallen into the belief that God isn’t really good – or maybe that He isn’t really good to you.

You may not be in outright rebellion against God, but is it possible you find yourself struggling with resentment in your prayers, or even have stopped praying altogether?

​You may not be openly arguing and accusing God, but is it possible you’re afraid of God – afraid of getting your hopes up, afraid He will hurt you if you ask for what you need and want?
 
You may not be quitting church or Christian fellowship, but is it possible you avoid certain people or topics because you find yourself envious of how God is working in their lives while you feel neglected by God?
 

A few days ago my husband and I were running errands and I played a podcast to help pass the time. Normally it’s a light-hearted and fun show to listen to, but occasionally they get into some deeper topics, and this was one of those times. During the course of the conversation about struggling with your relationship with God, one of the hosts made an interesting comment. The gist of it was this: “It’s crazy how things can be going just fine and all of a sudden you wake up and realize you’re far from God.”

Interesting thought.

“All of a sudden… far from God.”

Is that really possible? Is it really that simple? Is it really that… sudden? I’d dare say it’s not.

In fact, I’d say quite the opposite.

It’s crazy how one little step turns into another, which turns into another, and yet another, until suddenly you realize you are a hundred steps away from God.
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The only thing sudden about finding ourselves far from God is the actual moment of revelation that we’re not as good as we think we are. The process itself is not so sudden; in fact, it’s a slow, gradual process that contains not giant leaps or huge falls, but little compromises here and there. 
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“Ah, freedom.”

The thought that runs through our heads when we’re finally alone. When the project is finally finished. When we’re finally off work. When we’re finally on vacation. When we’re finally able to do what we want.  For different people, different circumstances cause us to breathe out that sigh of relief.  

Each of us has our own ideas about freedom. If you’re anything like me, in spite of the short-term instances of relief you occasionally experience, freedom is an elusive dream that you’re always chasing.

If I can just get through one more week, I’ll be free.

If I could just find a different job, then I’d be at peace.

If I could just break this one habit, I’d be okay.

If I could just have this relationship squared away, then I’d feel better.

If I can somehow find a way to make more money, I’ll be set.  

But the week comes and goes, and I still feel restless, the new job has its own set of problems, the habit just won’t go away, the relationship is never perfect, and the money is never enough.

The imagery Jesus uses when He speaks these words is vivid – “life to the full.” Abundant life. Life that has richness. He’s not speaking about life in a biological term – He’s speaking of a quality of life that is higher than we are able to experience on our own because it comes only from Him.

Many of us would use words like frazzled, frustrated, overwhelmed, stuck, defeated, fearful, insecure, lonely, confused, burned-out, or discouraged to describe our lives. I know I’ve used those words many times, even in the last few months. In contrast, Jesus offers us abundant life. Life that could be described as peaceful, contented, gracious, loving, joyful, and free.  

​As you consider your current season of life, which list most resonates with you? Are you experiencing the abundant life and freedom that Jesus came to offer? Or is it possible that, like me, you’ve been attaching your peace and freedom to the wrong things and as a result, are experiencing discouragement over joy, frustration over peace, and bondage over freedom?

We live in a culture that is all about making a name for yourself. We're constantly bombarded with messages from both secular and Christian sources that tell us to be all that we can be, to leave our mark on the world, and to stand out. I, myself, struggle with the desire for recognition and the temptation to not do something if I don't think it'll be appreciated or noticed. But the truth is that Scripture actually calls us to live quiet, humble lives that draw attention not to us, but to Christ. 

Mary was a humble woman, content to live her life behind the scenes and make much of Christ. Instead of making a name for ourselves, let's be determined to make Christ's name known - and in the process we'll earn eternal rewards instead of the temporary ones that recognition in this world offers. 

I think it's easy for us to get comfortable in life.

Comfort zones can be danger zones, though. When we get comfortable, we tend to become self-centered. We take things and people for granted. We stop giving. We start taking. We become proud. And God's not a fan of our stagnation, and He tends to only let us stay comfortable for so long before He begins to create some friction in our lives. Gently, at first, and then with increasingly more force as we stubbornly hold on to what we believe we need and have a right to - whether that's a certain emotional state of being, a particular relationship, an orderly set of circumstances, or even a way of thought and belief that is comfortable to us.

Our response to these disruptions reveals our heart. The right response is surrender to what God doing, trusting Him, and being obedient even in the hard things. When we surrender, we grow. We change. We become strengthened emotionally, relationally, and spiritually. 

But often we respond negatively, with anger, resentment, and a stubborn refusal to change. That's when things tend to get bad, because God often has to use pain to motivate us to change, as most of refuse to budge until the pain of staying the way we are is greater than the pain of change. 

Jonah is an example of someone who had a very clear comfort zone in life, and when God began to challenge him, he responded in anger. His desperation to maintain control over his life and choices made him emotionally unstable and ultimately estranged from God. 

I'm excited to share this study on Jonah with you. it's one of my favorite lessons to teach. And yes, I know, I'm breaking the cardinal rule of blogging by publishing an article that's over 1,300 words - but I felt like it would be worth it. 

I recommend you pull your Bible out and follow along. For the sake of time and space, I'll only be including key verses as we go through. Start with reading the book (it's just 4 chapters) to familiarize yourself with the story. 

​Have you ever found yourself struggling to stay focused on the real reason for Easter? It’s so easy to get caught up in the commercialism and the “fun” stuff like candy, egg hunts, and new clothes. ​But even beyond those things, I think it’s easy for us to (unintentionally) lose sight of the deep meaning behind Holy Week, Good Friday, and Resurrection Sunday. 

We recognize that Jesus died, of course. And we know that because Jesus died, we are able to live. But I think we tend to miss the "how" and "why" that connect those two things.

We talk about death being defeated. We talk about Jesus being the true King. We talk about his blood making us clean. But do we really remember why his blood made us clean?

It's not just about Jesus dying. At least, not in the way that we tend to think.

Yes, Jesus died. We just forget why. 

Yes, we know it was for us. But why was it for us?
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Most of us are familiar with the story of how God delivered the Israelites out of Egypt. Moses, the burning bush, plagues, splitting the sea. There's a lot there. A lot to learn. And as I was recently reading in Exodus 8, something jumped out at me. ​It was following the curse of the frogs:
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​People change when the pain of staying the way they are becomes greater than the pain of change.

​The problem is that we suffer frequently from memory loss.
 
We sin. We suffer. God offers freedom. We hesitate. Is it worth it? Maybe. Tomorrow. 

Sometimes tomorrow doesn't come until next week. Or next month. Or next year.

But eventually, the time comes. It's too much. We agree. We'll do anything. Just help. 
 
So God relieves the pressure and the pain.
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​Disobedience, on the other hand, is never worth it. It brings pain, bondage, anger, despair. 

But obedience? Obedience is always worth it. 
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We need encouragement. We need help. We need hope.

When we’re overwhelmed, frustrated, tired, and broken, we are tempted to isolate. But it’s in those broken moments that we most need each other. We benefit the most from our relationships when it’s the hardest – when we’re most tempted to give up, close up, or shut down. When we’re vulnerable. When we’re scared. When we’re desperate.  

The pattern in scripture is that when people (or even the nation of Israel) were desperate, they cried out to God. And God sent a man. God sent a woman. God sent a person. And He used that person to help, encourage, and bring about deliverance, both personally and corporately.
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