Something from Zondervan

If God is sovereign—meaning there is no authority higher than him—then technically all things are at the least "allowed." But to say no more than this is to suggest that God coolly and dispassionately scans the list of possibilities for the day, checking off those he will permit and those he will not. Where in such theology is the outrage of God, his anger toward the evil that mars his good creation? Where is the indefatigable determination to root out all that sets itself up against his dream of love and goodness for the world? Where are the tears Jesus wept for his dead friend Lazarus?

Are we to assume that when Jesus was sweating blood in Gethsemane, begging the Father for a way out, God on high looked down with indifference and said, "Sorry, Jesus. I'm allowing it."? Or did he ache with his Son? Did he sweat blood with him? Did he grieve over the lack of alternative options? Yes, in the end, God allowed it. Fine. But he did not do so easily. We cannot experience as good any God who says okay to tragedy without a stabbing pain in his own heart. And thankfully, we need not try, for this is not our God.

An excerpt from : When Answers Aren't Enough: Experiencing God as Good When Life Isn't by Matt Rogers

Something more from Zondervan

An honest reading of the Bible reveals a God who does not shy away from awkward questions. In fact, he almost seems to welcome them.

The ruined lives of Job and Naomi pose disturbing questions about God without censorship—a surprising indication that the disconcerting questions journalists are asking about God are not off-limits for us either.

An honest reading also reveals a God who doesn't explain himself. He didn't tell Job about his earlier conversation with Satan (Job 1:6-12) and he didn't give Naomi three good reasons why her world fell apart (Ruth 1:1-5). Both sufferers went to their graves with their whys unanswered and the ache of their losses still intact. But somehow, because they met God in their pain, both also gained a deeper kind of trust in him that weathers adversity and refuses to let go of God.

Their stories coax us to get down to the business of wrestling with God instead of chasing rainbows and to employ the same kind of brutal honesty that they did, if we dare.

The Gospel of Ruth: Loving God enough to break the rules By Caroline Custis James

Living as a christian is hard, living in Christ is easier

Probably at no point does the Christian mind clash more violently with the
secular mind than in its insistence on humility and its implacable hostility to
pride.
--From John Stott "Issues Facing Christians Today" (London:
Collins/Marshall Pickering, 1990), p. 37.

When we veiw Christianity as nothing more than sin management, we delude
ourselves. Firstly because the onus is then on us to live the perfect Christian
life and secondly to the onus is on us to overcome sin. Both these are
impossibilities. Only Christ can do this. We struggle so hard to overcome sin
when we try to do it in our own strength, but when we rest in His power and
ability, and allow his loveing hands to wash our feet, so that we are clean,
then we are just that, clean.

We forget that it was for freedom that we are set free. Its like the convict who is exonerated and yet is so institutionalised that he cannot adjust to life outside prison. It takes adjustment, time, and struggle.

The glorious thing is that we know that when Christ truly returns in,
through and to his Church, the very real possibility for transformation is birthed. The old has gone, the new has come.

I praise God for honest preachers, who don't say that your life when you
become a christian becomes a bed of Roses, your lambourgini arrives at the door
and all your problems dissappear.
Quite the contrary, if we are to be Godly in this life, we will face
challenges, we will face opposition. But praise God, he sustains us, strengthens
and encourages us, and promises us we will not be tempted beyond our
endurance.

Pee wee

While I was sitting writing my thesis this little bird we find in Australia, a Pee wee, we call it, all black and white all over, was pecking at his own reflection in the mirror of my car which was parked just outside my window. He did this all day for about a week, just fling up onto the roof of my car, leaving a deposit, and then peckig at his own reflection. He was exhausted by the end of those four days. You see many times people in the church are like that, they crown themselves with the office of critic. Lets face it its easy to throw stones. The problem is the more stones you throw the more ground you lose.
What was the key problem. The little bird saw himself in that car mirror. Psychologists say that when you criticise someone you are really just identifying something of your own weakness in someone else. If you acuse someone it probably means you are judging yourself.
What happens when that pee wee bird sees something different in the mirror, he isnt going to attack it, he isn't going to waste his energy and time trying to defend his territory from this impostor.
Where am I going with this... A key part of our calling as christians to be ministering priests is to see Jesus in people. Not just to see Jesus in them but to prophetically call Him out of them. The catalyst of this process is love. We cannot do this when we ourselves are criticising. We need to be changed from the inside first, so that we can look at them with the eyes of love, with the eyes of Jesus. This is the spirit of Matthew 7:5. Its not a licence to take the speck out of someone elses eye, but its a prescription for seeing clearly.
I pray that you may you look with the eyes of love, and may you find those same eyes reflected back at you.