One Reason Christians Don’t Trust God

I taught all four of my kids to ride their bikes, but the most interesting one was my oldest daughter. My rule was when the training wheels came off, they never went back on again. This was, of course, before balance bikes existed, which frankly, is a genius idea. But when I was teaching my kids they had to learn how to balance, pedal, brake, and steer all at the same time—it’s amazing that any kids learned how to ride a bike in those days.

My oldest daughter didn’t like trying new things, and she certainly wasn’t interested in learning to ride without training wheels. But I insisted so we went over to the greentop—a former tennis court in our neighborhood. As I pushed her and she tried to practice everything I taught her, she let out a steady stream of “whoa, whoooaaa, whoa”s. It was an entertaining and unbroken string of “whoas” as long as she was on the bike. It’s hard to learn to ride without falling over, and my daughter did. Unfortunately she hit her front teeth on the greentop. When she got up she had green on her teeth! I felt terrible. One of her front baby teeth actually died because of this. Her dead tooth gave her a redneck smile for a few years.

Her definition of good was keeping the training wheels on forever. My definition of good was her learning to ride her bike. She didn’t like my definition. She didn’t trust that I really knew what was good for her. She especially questioned my judgment when she fell off and hit her teeth.

Suffering is like that. It can tempt us with distrust.

Years ago the president of my college defined the fear of God as “a conscious awareness of God’s presence.” What I love about that definition is it highlights that fearing God is not accomplished on a lone Sunday morning. A relationship with God involves Sunday church attendance, but it’s more than that. God intends that we relate to him 24-7 and not just one morning a week. In the Bible God has given us words that define our relationship with Him, that describe what we do in our relationship with God. These are the verbs that command us to do something towards God like fear, hope, obey, worship, serve, trust, and others. If we understand those words, we quickly realize that God intends us to relate to him all the time. All of us can go hours with no thought of God, but He’s there all the time and is calling us to find refuge in Him, hope in Him, trust in Him, etc. The Christian life is God-relational.

One of the primary verbs describing our relationship with God is trust. That’s not something that is accomplished by reading one book or attending one small group—it really is something that we do every day. In every circumstance we are supposed to trust in God and not ourselves.

Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. Prov 3:5 (ESV)

But often we don’t trust God. When God changes my schedule—and he does almost every day—I find it difficult to agree with God that his change is better than my original plans. While my relationship with God should mean that I trust him, I sometimes am disappointed with his providential intrusion into my carefully planned calendar, maybe even frustrated with God.

One reason that Christians don’t trust God is because they believe that he has failed them before, and therefore, they cannot trust him now. He didn’t do what they wanted him to do in their lives, so they believe that he has thwarted them. And if you think that, you are going to have a hard time trusting God going forward.

So how does this dynamic happen? How does a Christian end up thinking that God failed him? This sad progression happens in four steps.

First, I’m Surprised by Suffering. A trial comes into my life. It’s unexpected, and it causes me alarm. Unfortunately, I don’t have biblical categories for handling a Christian life that has suffering.

Second, I Analyze the Cause. I wonder why this trial has happened. I assume it must be punishment for sin; Christians tend to believe that trials are always or most likely God’s punishment for sin. However, in this case I can’t think of any obvious rebellion against God. Yes I fail like all others, but no specific failure seems to deserve this, and I’m not presently defying God’s authority.

Third, I Evaluate My Service: Then I remember all the things I’ve done for God. I give, attend church, read my Bible, and bring my kids to Sunday school and youth group. This evaluation will be very external—it will be things that can be measured like I am more into my Bible this year than last. Therefore, I kind of believe God owes me better than this. How could God let this happen to me?

Fourth I Condemn God’s Work. I’ve kept my end of the bargain. It doesn’t seem God has kept His. Ultimately I believe I’ve done good, and God has done bad. God has failed me.

That’s a common progression that leads to disappointment with God, and past disappointment is a reason that Christians don’t trust God today. We become skeptical of God. We doubt his goodness, control, and wisdom. But we’re disappointed because we think that God owes us better. He should endorse our plans, not change them in such difficult ways.

A wrong belief that makes this progression possible is that being a Christian means that we have God in our back pocket to make sure our plans come to pass. God is our lucky charm that makes sure our dreams come true. Unbelievers don’t have that assurance we think. We believe that trusting God means that I trust Him to make my plans come to pass because I can’t make them happen myself (I’ve talked about this elsewhere). But that’s not trust. The truth is, God’s not very good at getting us what we want if what we want is anything other than His glory. And I want a lot of things other than seeing God glorified. And when I don’t get those things, I get disappointed with God.

The mature believer knows that trials are not alien intruders into our lives. God uses trials; you should expect trials. Suffering is God’s plan for you. Remember what Peter wrote to persecuted believers in Asia Minor?

Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery trial when it comes upon you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice insofar as you share Christ’s sufferings, that you may also rejoice and be glad when his glory is revealed. 1 Peter 4:12–13 (ESV)

Suffering is not surprising. It’s the normal Christian life. Christians talk all the time about having a relationship with God; well, trust is indispensable to that relationship.

My daughter eventually learned how to ride a bike. And while I didn’t plan it to cost her a tooth, I did expect that she would crash her bike a few times. It was necessary for her to learn something valuable. And God intends suffering for your good as well.

Does this progression make sense to you? Does it maybe explain your present difficulty in trusting God’s work in your life? You can trust God. He is worthy of your trust.

When My Sin Is the Worst…

One of my goals in 2022 is to review my devotional journal from 10 years ago so I’m reminded of God’s sanctifying work in my life. I came across this today…

Saturday, May 5, 2012

Last night I was reminded of God’s grace again. I sinned against my wife and son, and God graciously forgave me. Because of my sin against my wife, I made a poor decision with my son. My sin against his mother affected him. I was wrong. God’s grace is all over my life. I have a son that I don’t deserve. He obeyed me when it was extraordinarily difficult to do so. He’s a much better son to me than I ever was to my father. In part I know God’s grace because of my son. I don’t deserve a son like him.

When my sin embarrasses me, I grow in humility—even if only temporarily. And it embarrasses me now to think about last night. The Gospel is precious because it’s not by works that I’m saved. When my sin embarrasses me, I’m especially sensitive to the message of the Gospel. God’s grace becomes a rich treasure and my only hope. When my sin is the worst, the Gospel is so much more precious.

Thank You Father for Your saving and sanctifying grace.

This is how the gospel becomes more precious to us—as we see our sin with more clarity and accuracy we realize how blessed we are that God would save us. Knowing our sin is an unusual blessing; it helps humble us, and humility draws us closer to God.

Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you. Cleanse your hands, you sinners, and purify your hearts, you double-minded. Be wretched and mourn and weep. Let your laughter be turned to mourning and your joy to gloom. Humble yourselves before the Lord, and he will exalt you. James 4:8-10 (ESV)

In Luke 6:36-50 right after a woman who was a great sinner washed Jesus’ feet with her tears, Jesus told the parable of the two debtors to Simon, the self-righteous Pharisee who was his host. One debtor owed a lot and his debt was cancelled; one owed a little and also had his debt cancelled. So Jesus asks Simon,

Now which of them will love him more?” Simon answered, “The one, I suppose, for whom he cancelled the larger debt.” And he said to him, “You have judged rightly.” Luke 7:42b–43 (ESV)

I don’t appreciate the gospel when I don’t think I’m a very big sinner. When I have more in common with Simon the Pharisee’s self-righteousness than the immoral woman’s sorrow and repentance, the gospel won’t be that precious.

So, today, are you amazed by God’s grace? If not, could it be that you don’t think sin is that significant in your life? When your sin is the worst, the Gospel is so much more precious.

Don’t Worry Be Happy

Or Could There Be a Better Way to Address Anxiety?

In every life we have some trouble
But when you worry you make it double
Don’t worry, be happy
Don’t worry, be happy now

Bobby McFerrin sang it in 1988, and the song was a grammy award winner, so it must be the way to deal with worry. Just stop worrying. Just decide to be happy. Hmm. Or maybe not.

So if not that bouncy advice, then what? One way to get help with worry seems like no help at all at first, and that’s to ask the question, is there a link between anxiety and pride?

Maybe even asking the question seems a bit offensive. For some Christians anxiety seems like something that comes over you—from outside. It’s a mental health issue and more and more people recognize the need for mental health breaks—entertainers and even athletes have made it acceptable. The theory claims that we didn’t ask for the anxiety, so we cannot have responsibility for it.

This view is akin to anxiety being like a virus that comes from outside and makes us sick, or it’s like a genetic condition that we inherited. Some people are just wired by personality or background to be more anxious than others. In other words, we think of worry as something that happens to us, not necessarily something we do. Or at least we think of the extreme types of anxiety as coming upon us from the outside. And if it comes from outside of us, how could it be related to pride at all?

I’m using anxiety and worry as synonymous terms. Some see anxiety as distinct from worry,[1]Maybe because the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders describes it and therefore, professional counselors talk about it as a medical condition. but I believe that what we call anxiety Scripture calls worry. Seeing them as distinct results in Christians assuming worry is sin, but anxiety isn’t. Anxiety might not be sin in all cases, but in some it must be. The Apostle Paul says,

do not be anxious about anything…. Phil 4:6a (ESV)

And that is a command. So, we can be compassionate, sympathetic, and understand some nuance is necessary to apply Phil 4:6, but we cannot claim that anxiety is never sin. Some must be or else why would Paul command us not to be anxious about anything?

So… is it possible that worry/anxiety is related to pride? Us worriers (I’m the worrier in my family. My wife seems incapable of worry 😉 ) don’t like to consider this.

1 Peter 5:6–7 (ESV) Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time he may exalt you, casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you.

Verse 6 commands humility and verse 7 talks about worry. First Peter 5:6-7 are one sentence in the Greek New Testament, so verses 6 and 7 have to be related thoughts somehow. Isn’t this a strange juxtaposition?

But how are humility and worry related? We tend to think of anxiety as something that cannot be helped. It’s the view of your heart being passive, rather than active. But Scripture doesn’t describe humanity that way. The Bible says that your sin comes from inside of you (Mk 7:20-23.) When it’s actually sin, it’s not something that comes upon you from the outside that you cannot prevent. When we’re talking about sin, we’re talking about something that is inside of you—it comes from your heart.

You have a dynamic heart that responds to circumstances and situations around you. Sometimes the way a person responds is with worry and anxiety. And 1 Peter 5:6-7 is saying that at least some worry is a manifestation of pride.

Is that hard to swallow? I think it might even be rude to some of us that are great worriers. If that characterization offends you, well, just look at 1 Peter 5:6-7. The humble cast their cares on God. That means the proud don’t. They worry over them.

So if worry is linked to pride as the Apostle Peter says, how might we see that link? I think there are three beliefs and three resulting accusations against God that show the link between pride and anxiety.

  • Worry is the belief that God can’t take care of it so I must do it myselfGod is impotent. [God can do lots of things, but I guess not this.]

The worrier says that were I all-powerful, I would handle this far better than God does. He’s loving and wise, but I guess not powerful. I would do it better.

  • Worry is the belief that God won’t take care of it at allGod is apathetic. [If God cared, he would deal with this. I guess he doesn’t care.]

Who will care for me if I don’t worry about these things? God will. That’s what verse 7 says. You can give him your cares because he cares for you.

Think about how astounding that claim is. What world religion teaches that God cares for you? I think only Christianity (and maybe Judaism). Islam doesn’t; Hinduism doesn’t; Buddhism doesn’t. Christianity says that God actually cares for you. Your concerns out of 7 billion people on this piece of dust we call earth in the vast expanse of the universe matter to God. Yes, they do. Put your concerns on God. He cares for you.

  • Worry is the belief that God won’t take care of it my wayGod is unkind. [God will take care of it, but he won’t consider what I want. That’s not compassionate. That’s not kind.]

We’re told to bring our cares to God in verse 7, but no one would tell his concerns to someone cruel or unkind. But someone that cares for you…. And God is kind; he does care for you. In our pride we think we are the only ones that care about ourselves, but that’s not true. God cares. And his kindness makes the difference.

These three beliefs are all actually arrogance, aren’t they? “Well God won’t handle it as I want it, so I must do it myself. I know best.” Are you god or is God, God? He is not about making your kingdom work. He wants you to submit to his providential rule in your life. He is King.

Anxiety seems like something that comes over us, but Peter makes clear that anxiety is often pride. It doesn’t come from without—our circumstances. It comes from within. You will never grow in your battle with worry as long as you won’t admit it’s coming out of your heart.

But… it’s okay because God cares for you! That’s the promise of verse 7. So we have far more than Don’t Worry Be Happy. We have a God that cares; He actually cares!

References[+]

References
1 Maybe because the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders describes it and therefore, professional counselors talk about it as a medical condition.

I Could Always Get My Dad

When my dad was a young pastor, he had a few standing rules, but the most important one to me was that if his wife or sons called, we were immediately put through to him. The church secretary knew that no matter what he was doing or whom he was with, he always wanted to take the call. I’m sure the policy was designed especially for my mother, so she could be certain that whatever family emergency her elementary school-age boys caused, she could get her husband. But it applied to all of us.

My Dad at groundbreaking for a church building. It’s the late ’70s; that explains the shoes. 😉

Probably the only rebuke our church secretary ever received (she was a gem) was after I called one time, and she tried to screen if the probably 12-year-old son of the pastor really needed to talk to his dad or not, and she didn’t put me through. From then on, no matter why I called, she just put me through to my dad. She didn’t even ask why I was calling; she just got my dad on the phone.

Having been a pastor myself, I realize it might not have been a wise policy. I’m sure we interrupted my dad’s study, counseling, and other important pastoral tasks. It’s funny how that affected me. No matter where I was, if I could find a phone, I could get my dad. In an age before cell phones or even the internet, knowing I could grab that harvest gold phone off the wall, dial the church office, and immediately talk to my Dad made me feel special, privileged—membership in my dad’s family had its privileges. I could always get through.

But as comforting as that was, I have a greater Father who has the same policy. When God the Father saved me, he adopted me. I am a member of his family. I’m not a stranger; I’m not an outsider.

he [God] predestined us for adoption to himself as sons through Jesus Christ, according to the purpose of his will…. Ephesians 1:5 (ESV) Cf. Rom 8:14-17; Gal 4:6

Membership has its privileges. The only prayer of the unbeliever that God has obligated himself to hear is the prayer of repentance. But for the believer, God always hears our prayers.

For the eyes of the Lord are on the righteous, and his ears are open to their prayer. But the face of the Lord is against those who do evil.” 1 Peter 3:12 (ESV)

I might have milked the privilege being Harley Keck’s son afforded me and made phone calls that were unnecessary, but my dad still took my calls. And our heavenly Father encourages us to come boldly before him.

Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need. Hebrews 4:16 (ESV)

I am adopted into God’s family. This means I can always get through. How amazing that the God who spoke the universe into existence always, always hears my prayer. And I don’t have to find a harvest-gold phone to talk to him. 😉 Right now, you and I can talk to him. We are so privileged.

Why Churches Brush Off Verbal Abuse

Pastors and churches are often ill-equipped to deal with cases of verbal abuse among their members. Thankfully there has been a growing awareness of the scourge of sexual abuse and even domestic abuse in evangelical churches, so pastors have become sensitized to the symptoms of abuse. This is wonderful; our churches are better equipped to prevent sexual abuse and minister to abuse victims with compassion and care.

But in our zeal to address abuse, some churches have overlooked a subtle but devastating danger—verbal abuse. Physical violence and sexual sins are recognized as abuse, but churches in the main don’t regard verbal abuse as “real” abuse. This is especially unfortunate because so many wives[1]Most perpetrators are men although not exclusively so in our congregations suffer terribly. When she brings it to the church leadership, they have a history of mishandling it, adding to her distress.

I think there are four reasons for this.

#1 Because Verbal Abuse Has Had an Elastic Definition

Abuse is a very powerful word that can get used too freely, and I’m against an expansive definition of abuse—not every sin is abusive. However, the word does describe certain behaviors and language accurately. I’ve talked about this in another blog, so I won’t define verbal abuse again here, but Christians that don’t know better can imagine that verbal abuse is just a term used by a vindictive spouse to exaggerate how sinful her husband is. And they can believe it’s an extreme word used to generate sympathy for her cause. But that’s not the case.

Verbal abuse is not the normal communication sins that occur in all marriages. Every Christian husband has sinned against his wife with his tongue, and fixing those involves confessing sin and seeking forgiveness. Healthy Christian marriages involve mutual admission of sin and seeking and granting a lot of forgiveness.

Verbal abuse is different. It’s more severe, it’s consistent (it’s not a one-off event of severe verbal sin), and the oppressor is blind, defensive, and refuses to repent. When confronted, he excuses and points the finger at his wife. He really believes that his sin is justified and caused by her. When confronted about his words, he might claim, “I’ve never hit her.” That’s because he knows violence is “real” abuse. His destructive speech is just words. How damaging can they really be?

But victims say that verbal abuse is more damaging than physical abuse. Does that sound unbelievable? Both secular and Christian experts claim it’s so. Steven Tracy relates the story of a woman he calls Betty who was physically and sexually abused by her dad. He says, “I was shocked when she said that twenty years of physical abuse and ten years of rape by her father weren’t as painful as the verbal abuse she endured from her mother.”[2]Steven R. Tracy, Mending the Soul: Understanding and Healing Abuse (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2005), 35. The scars of verbal abuse last a long time.

#2 Because It Seems Less Urgent than Other Problems

Pastors always have more demands on their time—more than they can do. Dealing with a problem that doesn’t seem as easily defined just isn’t as urgent as preparing for Sunday, or reconciling those two families that won’t speak to each other, or meeting with the finance committee. Why stir up a potential hornet’s nest when other more pressing problems exist? Pastors don’t need to make more work for themselves, and dealing with a wife that complains about her husband’s harsh language seems like a problem with all downside and no upside for church leadership. And honestly, “sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me,” right?

It’s just not as urgent as other issues, and it seems a little exaggerated anyway. If he’s violent, well that has to be addressed right away. But words?! Can’t we just wait and see if it blows over?

You need to know that every physically abusive relationship began with verbal abuse. This doesn’t mean that verbal abuse inevitably leads to physical abuse, but that’s where all domestic abuse starts. Because this is so, addressing verbal abuse isn’t just good for the oppressor and victim, it might actually prevent the escalation to physical violence.[3]“The survey found that women whose partners were jealous, controlling, or verbally abusive [emphasis added] were significantly more likely to report being raped, physically assaulted, and/or … Continue reading Verbal abuse is an urgent problem.

#3 Because They Are Unfamiliar with Abuse Dynamics

What types of dynamics are characteristic of abuse? Coercion, humiliation, embarrassment, isolation, and control are all normal elements in an abusive relationship. Christian husbands that abuse will also weaponize religion—he will claim his spouse needs to ask his forgiveness, that she is not submissive, and that she’s the one sinning in the relationship. The cumulative effect of all this leads to confusion for the wife. Pierre and Wilson say, “Can we give a reminder we think is important here? A victim of abuse can often appear either crazier or more critical than the spouse she’s accusing of abuse. She may seem scattered, unreasonable, and even defensive. … If someone has been living under constant abuse, confusion should not be surprising.[4]Jeremy Pierre & Greg Wilson, When Home Hurts: A Guide to Responding Wisely to Domestic Abuse in Your Church (Fearn, Ross-Shire, Scotland: Christian Focus, 2021), 85.

The victim’s confusion is frustrating to those around her, including you as a friend, pastor, or biblical counselor. You point her to God’s Word, but she seems to be in a fog. Even the most sensible suggestions is difficult for her to process. She cannot seem to make the most basic decision for her safety. It’s surprising how long-term abuse can disorient a woman. The perpetrator will use that to prove that he’s not doing what he’s been accused of. He will suggest that her story can’t be trusted because she’s so confused.

His story and excuses on the other hand are convincing, especially to pastors. They know this guy; he’s probably faithful in attendance and ministry, and he’s well-liked in the congregation. When they talk to him, they are prone to take his perspective at face value. They don’t know that most verbal abusers are smooth talkers telling believable stories.

Not knowing these dynamics makes churches unprepared to hold the perpetrator accountable and to offer care to the family.

#4 Because They Don’t Realize the Harm Words Can Cause

While words aren’t violence—violence is violence—words can be hurtful, sometimes extremely so. Words can cause severe damage. James in his epistle claims the uncontrolled tongue is a fire, a world of iniquity, a defiler of us, sourced in hell, a restless evil, and full of deadly poison. Those are not tame pictures of the tongue.  

A verbal abuser characteristically minimizes how hurtful his words are. He unloads on his wife and imagines that the name calling, swearing, and demeaning speech doesn’t hurt much. After he gets what he wants, he doesn’t feel much remorse. James 3 alerts us that words are powerful. They have a great capacity to cause severe hurt and destruction. Verbal abusers often yell, swear, manipulate through guilt, and attack their wives’ abilities, looks, character—their entire personhood. Sinful words damage wives.

Hopefully this gives you a better understanding of verbal abuse and a desire to pursue women in your congregation that are being verbally assaulted. May God grant you wisdom, compassion, and a willingness to seek the oppressor and hold him accountable.

References[+]

References
1 Most perpetrators are men although not exclusively so
2 Steven R. Tracy, Mending the Soul: Understanding and Healing Abuse (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2005), 35.
3 “The survey found that women whose partners were jealous, controlling, or verbally abusive [emphasis added] were significantly more likely to report being raped, physically assaulted, and/or stalked by their partners, even when other sociodemographic and relationship characteristics were controlled. Indeed, having a verbally abusive partner was the variable most likely to predict [emphasis added] that a woman would be victimized by an intimate partner. “What Is Domestic Violence?,” National Coalition Against Domestic Violence, accessed June 2, 2015, http://www.ncadv.org/need-support/what-is-domestic-violence.
4 Jeremy Pierre & Greg Wilson, When Home Hurts: A Guide to Responding Wisely to Domestic Abuse in Your Church (Fearn, Ross-Shire, Scotland: Christian Focus, 2021), 85.
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