BLeach

Fear God and Nothing Else

Let all the earth fear the Lord; let all the inhabitants of the world stand in awe of him! For he spoke, and it came to be; he commanded, and it stood firm. -Psalm 33.8

I recently heard someone make this statement, and it came back to me as I prayed through Psalm 33 today.

As worshippers, we are to fear God and nothing else.

Fear takes all kinds of forms. Fear of failure. Fear of sickness. Fear of embarrassment. Fear of people's disapproval. Fear of hurting a person's feelings. Yet there's only one form that fear should take in our lives.

We fear the Lord. We stand in awe of him. We reverence him. We approach him confidently, yet cautiously.

The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom, and this is why. If we embrace the right fear the right way, we strip the power away from the wrong fears.

So we are at once fearful and fearless--full of fear and free of it at the same time.

Where I Belong

I've been thinking about Moses this week. In particular, I'm imagining how he must have felt by living in between various cultures. 

Moses was a part of three cultures. Born a Hebrew. Raised in Egypt. Lived in Midian. He was a part of three cultures, but wasn't fully in any of them.

I identify with Moses some during this season of life. I'm from Michigan. It still feels a little like home when I travel back, but it's not--not really. I'm living in Pittsburgh. We've got a great home there for the time being, but it's a quick layover. We're on our way to Philadelphia, but don't live there yet. At times it's all a bit disorienting.

Fortunately, when we struggle to know where we belong, we can remember to whom we belong. Your identity is not connected to your address. It's established in relationship to your God!

Starting Your Day--At Night

This morning I heard my dad share an interesting insight. At creation, God labeled the inauguration of time this way.

And there was evening, and there was morning--the first day. And there was evening, and there was morning--the second day. And there was evening, and there was morning--the third day.

In God's view, at least at creation, the day started in the evening and then continued through the morning. Or, as my dad put it, the day starts with rest, not coffee!

What if we went into the evening with this mindset, that the previous day is finished and we have the opportunity to start again? Would we value our families more? Our recreation more? Our rest more?

Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could; some blunders and absurdities have crept in; forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day; you shall begin it serenely and with too high a spirit to be encumbered with your old nonsense. -Ralph Waldo Emerson

Missionaries Like Jesus

We're driving to Philadelphia today to spend the weekend with several members of our team. Most of them are moving to Philly from various parts of the country. We're all missionaries. And our task has me thinking more and more about Jesus, who happened to be the greatest missionary of all time.

Jesus moved into a very different, sinful culture. Heaven to earth--that's a big move! There has never been a missionary who experienced a bigger cultural transition than Jesus.

Second, Jesus immersed himself in that culture. Jesus didn't learn about sinners from a distance. He shared life with them. He ate with them. He learned their language by attending their parties. He befriended real people.

Third, Jesus was able to truly befriend people without ever sinning a single time. He never condoned sin or participated in it. He didn't lose his flavor or blend in. He taught the Scripture and modeled the Kingdom of God in a radically counter-cultural way.

And then, before he finished his missionary assignment, he sent his disciples to do the same type of missionary work. As the father has sent me, even so I am sending you (John 20.21). 

I feel honored to move to Philadelphia to be a missionary like Jesus!

What about you? In the context God has called you to, are you a resident or a missionary?

Certain Uncertainty

To be certain of God is to be uncertain in all your ways.

I've always loved reading that quote from Oswald Chambers. But I don't always like living it. Yet it seems like uncertainty has been the recent theme of my life.

• When Leah and I resigned from Church of the King to follow God in planting a new church, we didn't know where we would go.
• When God called us to Philadelphia, I had never been there in my life.
• When God called us to Philadelphia, I didn't know anyone there and wondered where our team would come from.
• We still don't know how we're going to sell our house in Michigan.
• We still don't know where we'll live in Philly.
• We still don't know which neighborhood our church will be launched from in Philly

We're certain that God has called us to do this. But that's about it!

Meanwhile, God has really been encouraging me this weekend to embrace these uncertainties as opportunities to trust him. 

In Luke 9, a man who was apparently impressed with Jesus' ministry made a big statement. I'll follow you wherever you go. Jesus' response was brilliant. You know, the whole "foxes have holes but I don't have a place to stay response."

First, it encourages me as I wonder where we're going to live in Philly to know that Jesus himself was homeless!

Second, when this guy expresses a desire to follow Jesus, the invitation is to a life of uncertainty. Sure! You can follow me. But I can't tell you where we're going to stay tonight or what we're going to eat tomorrow.

When Jesus calls us, He doesn't always tell us where the provision is going to come from. In fact, I think our ability to accomplish something great for God is directly related to the amount of uncertainty we're able to bear. If you demand that resources are readily available and outcomes are easily predictable before responding to God, then you'll most likely miss the opportunity.

We don't always think of Easter Sunday as a day of uncertainty, but originally the disciples had no idea how they're futures were going to play out. All of their plans were buried with Jesus. The three days between Good Friday and Easter Sunday were packed with uncertainty.

Yet this verse is stunning! Go ahead, read it again. These women, after visiting the tomb of Jesus, go home on the Sabbath and rest. Did you catch that? Suffering from uncertainty, sandwiched between the cross and the empty tomb, they go home on the Sabbath and rest.

When we face uncertainty we want answers. But God wants our trust!

Additionally, the resurrection reminds us that any uncertainty we feel related to the plan and call of God is only apparent uncertainty. The outcome is not undecided. God knows what is around the corner. Our responsibility is not to share his knowledge, but to trust His leading.

Good For Us, Not For Him

I'm looking forward to preaching the Good Friday services at Allison Park Church this week. It's an honor to inspire people to remember the cross, and lead them in communion.

It's always been interesting to me that we call it "Good Friday." I guess we do because we know the end of the story. We have the benefit of hindsight and know what happened three days later. But for those who loved Jesus, in the moment, there was nothing good about it.

I also wonder if I call it good because my default position is to evaluate something based on what it does for me. It was good for me, but not for Jesus.

To flip it, the reason I'm free to live for God today, is because Jesus was willing to surrender to something that was bad for him, yet good for me.

So here's my challenge to you. This week, to honor the memory of "Good Friday," what is one thing you can do for someone else that's good for them, but not for you. 

Good for your wife, but maybe painful for you. Good for your parents, but maybe inconvenient for you. Good for a friend, but costly for you.

This is, after all, the attitude of our Savior. Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others (Philippians 2.4).

Faith is Our Title Deed

There are many details we are entrusting to God as we follow His lead to plant churches in Philadelphia. At the top of the list is the sale of our house in Michigan. 

In the natural, the outlook isn't very encouraging. The housing market in Metro Detroit is at record lows, and the value of our house has declined almost 40% since I bought it seven years ago. We need God to do a miracle.

Strangely enough, we are at peace. We have our moments, but any anxiety that kicks up brings us back to a place of complete dependency on God. And that's a great place to be!

We've been studying Hebrews 11 each week in our family devotions. Abraham's story is especially encouraging to us. During our study, Leah came across verse 1 in the Amplified Bible, and it's revolutionized the way I pray over our house.

Now faith is the assurance (the confirmation, the TITLE DEED) of the things we hope for, being the proof of things we do not see and the conviction of their reality [faith perceiving as real fact what is not revealed to the senses]. (Amplified)

I wanted to shout when I first read that! Faith is the title deed. Now, when I think about the day we'll finally be able to sign over the title of our house, I know it's not a pipe dream. We're walking in obedience to God, which means that this is His problem.

And the title is as good as signed!

Hope Again

Hi. My name is Brad Leach, and I am a Detroit Lion's fan. I have loved the Lions for 30 years and they have never loved me back. In fact, they have only one playoff victory in the course of my lifetime.

My wife Leah is a Pittsburgh Steeler's fan. She has loved the Steelers for 30 years, and has received much more love in return. In fact, they have rewarded her with more Super Bowl Championships than any other NFL franchise.

The Lions usually lose. The Steelers occasionally lose. But when both of them lose, Leah and I have very different emotional responses. In short, Leah experiences total devastation while I go on with my life without skipping a beat. 

The difference is, of course, expectation. Leah feels disappointed when the Steelers lose because she expects them to win. But I have very little disappointment because I have very low expectations.

So the question is, which is better? To experience the thrill of a Super Bowl Championship one year, followed by the sting of missing the playoffs the next? Or to never feel the thrill or the sting?

Life's disappointments have a way of beating down our expectations. You hope for a relationship to work out, but it falls apart instead. You hope for a job offer to come through, but they never call you back. You hope for your church to grow, but can't seem to gain any traction.

How do you respond after feeling the sting of disappointment again, and again, and again?

Some people choose to play it safe. They stop dating, stop interviewing, and stop praying for growth. Meanwhile, a life without any expectation slowly shuts down their hearts.

Other people choose to risk. They get up and go out again. They dress up and interview again. They pray up and dream for growth again. And hope keeps their hearts alive.

Solomon was right. Hope deferred does make the heart sick. So choose to believe again today. Wake those dreams back up and expect God to do something great in your life.

Object Permanence, Peekaboo, and Faith

Gabby has really started to enjoy playing Peekaboo.  It's an easy game to play.  I hide behind a wall, napkin, pillow, or anything else I can find.  Then, I stick my face out and shout "Peekaboo."  She laughs, and my heart melts!

Come to find out, this is a very good sign that she's developing fine motor skills.  More specifically, she's grasping object permanence.  

According to developmental psychologists, object permanence is the understanding that objects continue to exist even when they cannot be seen, heard, or touched.  In other words, when dad goes into hiding behind the pillow, he hasn't actually gone anywhere.  Object permanence is one of an infant's most important discoveries, because without it, a person or object has no separate or permanent existence.

This is also one of the most important discoveries that a new Christian can make.  You come to the realization that God exists even when He can't be seen, heard, or touched.  When God's activity in your life transcends your five senses, and you're unable to detect His movements, faith kicks in to reassure you that He hasn't gone anywhere.

Faith isn't unnatural or weird.  It's as fundamental to the development of spiritual motor skills as the enjoyment of peekaboo is to a baby.

The next time you start to worry because God seems hidden, grow into spiritual maturity and wait in faith. Then you'll get to light up with joy when He finally jumps out from behind the wall and reveals Himself!

No Props::Pursuing Christ in My Empty Nest Season of Life

It's difficult to put into words how much the addition of Gabby to our family has impacted my marriage. Leah and I spend more time together than ever, but now a portion of it revolves around our daughter. A lot of our prayers together revolve around Gabby. A lot of our conversations at dinner revolve around Gabby. Our life planning now includes Gabby.

These are great changes, and I'm so thankful for the bigger picture God has given us as a family. But I also realize that if we're not careful, Gabby can become a prop that holds up our marriage relationship. 

This dynamic makes me think about the challenges of the empty nest season of life. If you have a few kids, and spend 25 years as husband and wife praying for them, teaching them, talking about them, disciplining them, and preparing them for life, it must be a tremendous adjustment when they leave home. Conversations change. Evenings spent hustling kids to activities are open again. And in some ways, a man and a woman have to get to know each other again.

Lately God has brought the picture of the empty nest to mind as a description of my relationship with Him A few weeks ago I left a church that I had the privilege to plant and pastor for over 8 years. In some ways it felt like my baby. 

Now, with that baby gone, I'm realizing how much of my relationship to Jesus was propped up by my work in the church.

Can I be brutally honest? 

Too much of my prayer life revolved around the church. Too large a percentage of my time in God's Word was tied to weekly sermon preparation. Too much of my intimacy with Jesus happened during corporate moments of worship.

Now that I'm an empty-nester, I feel like I'm getting to know Jesus again.

This current season of life is unique, because the church I'm leading now doesn't exist yet. I don't want to take this metaphor too far (for obvious reasons) but in a way I'm in the pregnancy stage right now.

When Leah was pregnant, we were very intentional about building our relationship with each other. We tried to do things that would be more difficult to do once the baby was born.

And that's my goal while being pregnant with this new church. I want to spend more time with Jesus simply for the joy of experiencing Him. I want to worship more without thinking about leading others into worship. I want to study and digest Scripture for the sole purpose of knowing my King.

If you're a pastor, or a church staff member, try asking yourself this question. If my ministry was taken away from me, and I no longer had the privilege of leading this church, would it affect my relationship with Jesus?

I've felt a bit disoriented during the past few weeks. But it's a good disorientation. It's the disorientation associated with working my way back to a solid understanding of my identity in Christ. And I'm grateful for it.