I don’t know you, but I’m guessing this is what your average week “tastes” like: Mostly tofu, with a balanced light seasoning of both aggravation and pleasantry—nothing too remarkable. Then, a random scattering of Hershey Kisses—unexpected delights, however momentary. And occasionally, you’ll find a container of spoiled cottage cheese at the rear of the refrigerator where it had accidentally been hidden for months past expiration—something truly unpleasant like disappointment, pain, setbacks, or even tragedy.
Why does it all seem to play out this way, this indiscriminate distribution of good and evil? We want reasons, especially if what we found in our refrigerator was worse than a little sour milk, maybe a dead cat. The need for reasons, for explanations, eats at our souls. We’re haunted. Given time, we begin to feel like victims. The planets have lined up on us for ill.
Then along comes a phrase so dog-eared and well-traveled, that it’s tempting to dismiss it—“The Lord is my shepherd” (Ps. 23:1). Linger here for a second. The all-powerful ruler of the universe is the same person as the all-caring, nurturing, tender guide. That’s good news because Psalm 23 has a lot more to it than green pastures and still waters. It also has valleys of shadow, death, and enemies. With this Lord-Shepherd, all of those negatives are flavors, not destinations.
Under the Lordship of Christ, there are no accidents. With that thought security reaches its highest expression. Christ cannot make mistakes. Part of our theology of salvation talks about security—that is, once truly saved, we cannot be eternally lost. But how about this for security—under His Lordship, no matter what happens, it will be what the church needs, what my loved ones need, what the ministry needs, what God’s purpose needs, and what my relationship with Him needs. That’s another way of saying, “All things work together for good to those who love God and are called according to His purpose” (Rom. 8:28).
Thanks, but I still want to know “why?” I want to know because regardless of my theology, pain still hurts. I want to know because I’m curious. I want to know because I’m worried. I want to know so I can make plans. Most of the time, apart from receiving a few clues and nuances, all I get in response to my prayers and wondering is silence.
What is inside His exquisite mind? The Book of Revelation describes Christ as having hair like white wool, symbolizing infinite, timeless wisdom (Rev. 1:14). Whoever acts according to His lead automatically enters a plane of significance they had never previously traveled. As that band of fishermen and unknowns followed Him, they swam in the current of redemptive history without even knowing it. He had said, “Follow Me, and I will make you fishers of men” (Mt. 4:19). Truly, never has any group of human beings military, political, social or religious, “caught” more souls than they—all the effect of having been involved with the Lord of Lords.
He is the Alpha and the Omega, meaning He not only sees the end from the beginning, but He is at both end and beginning. It’s reasonable to say nothing in the middle will stop Him. Even His smallest command to the disciples—“He gave orders to go to the other side” (Matt. 8:18)—was proof against a storm that kicked up in the middle of the lake. The disciples panicked and woke Him. He stilled the storm and then rebuked them for having so little faith. After all, He had ordered them to the other side. That meant no power in heaven or earth would stop them from getting there. The word that created a universe had spoken. Note to self: if Jesus says cross the lake and all hell breaks loose, feel free to take a nap. We already know how it will turn out.
You might want to overhaul how you see Jesus. I’m talking about an upgrade from holy friend to Lord of All. Here’s a not so secret secret—we have to confess Jesus as Lord in order to be saved (Rom. 10:9). You don’t confess Him as Savior. In fact to know the full force of His salvation, to realize His power as Savior, I must think of Him and treat Him as Lord—Lord of all…Lord of me.
As Paul wrote, “The Lord will rescue me from every evil deed and bring me safely into His heavenly kingdom. To Him be the glory forever and ever. Amen” (2 Tim. 4:18).
Everything is going to be fine.