God is loving but not lenient. In our American culture, we seem to define love as leniency. In fact, the first synonym for lenient in my Webster’s New World Dictionary is loving. But then it goes on: soft, easygoing, permissive, mild, yielding, pampering, indulgent, among others. Peter Kreeft, the Catholic writer, says, “Love is the willing of another’s good.” Rarely is pampering, permissive, indulgent behavior in someone’s best interest.

We don’t indulge our 3 year olds who want to play in the busy street. We don’t permit 10 year olds to stay overnight with drug users. We don’t cut up our children’s meat for them past the time they can do it for themselves. Good parents will the physical, emotional and spiritual growth of their children.

Likewise, good friends wish God’s best for each other.  Sometimes that means walking with each other through suffering, encouraging belief where unbelief has taken hold, and holding each other accountable to God’s clear commands.

God loves us. That means he wants our whole hearts in return. He wants us to cling to him in our suffering, believe through our doubts, and obey because we believe he knows what is best. 

Father, show us again the depth and quality of your love for us. Thank you.

“Let’s see if they have a remote control receptacle.”  Jerry and I were ready to check out at our local Farm and Fleet. He’d installed a block heater in our diesel Golf so it would start on cold winter mornings, but at 1,000 watts, the heater would run up our electric bill if it operated all night. An electrician, he had gathered supplies to put in a line from an outlet in our detached garage to a switch in the kitchen. I had been trying on jeans, so when I rejoined him I suggested the remote control possibility. We’d never seen one, but it seemed technologically feasible.

“Well, yeah, I guess we should,” he agreed, turning the cart back toward the electrical department. We saw the device immediately—on sale—for several dollars less than the parts in his cart.

“This is an answer to prayer,” I said, smiling at him as we exited the store, only then remembering his request as we’d said grace at dinner:  “And please help us get the right parts for the electrical job.”

We used to pray about every detail of our lives. We’d gotten out of the habit, however, of asking for help in our everyday tasks. It’s easy to forget, but that inner prompt to look for a solution that saved Jerry 6-8 hours of work in 30-degree weather, encourages me to “let my requests be made known to God” who “cares for us.” (Philippians 4:6 and 1Peter 5:7)

What do you need God to do for you today? Let’s remember, in our prayerful focus on big needs, to ask for the small needs, too.

Jesus, you are the God who cares for every detail. Thank you.

Any kind of childhood abuse leaves a residual of shame. The child asks, instinctively, though usually not in actual words:  “What’s wrong with me to be treated so badly?” “I must be really bad for Daddy to hit me so hard.”  “Why does Mommy ignore me—am I not worth her attention?”  “I really am a dummy, my big brother says so.” We are admonished to forgive the sins of others. We also need to reject the shame that accompanies those sins.

An uninterested parent, for example, leaves us feeling rejected. That feeling gives Satan soil to sow his lies. We don’t recognize his seeds, we just think it’s the truth. Feeling rejected and alone is so painful, we tend to keep the feelings behind a locked door. When we find the courage to turn around and unlock the door, though, we can find understanding. As we understand the roots of our shame, we can reject the lies of the enemy. I’m not saying rejecting shame is easy. I’m saying it’s possible.

Satan is the father of lies. (John 8:44) He is a true enemy, because he sows his lies when we are most vulnerable, as children. The core shame lie centers on our identity and God’s feelings about us.  “You’re worthless and God doesn’t love you.” That’s the most toxic version. Many milder versions of the lie also exist. For example, “Something is wrong with me if I can’t balance my checkbook.” “How stupid can I be?” or "I can’t imagine God walking beside me."

The truth is in a quote from Guilt and Freedom, by Narramore and Counts: “You are deeply fallen, but greatly loved.”

Jesus, help us face our shame, expose Satan’s lies, and find your truth.