Tag: Honesty

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No Reason to Hide

I broke a windshield when I was a child. Spider-webbed it actually. My friend and I lived on a side street off of a busy street in Green Bay, WI. I think I was 5 and he was 4. We were really young, and this was a time when parents let their children wander around the neighborhood. So my friend told me that you can throw a rock at a car. He claimed he had done it, and nothing had happened. Remember, he’s 4 and I’m 5.

So I grabbed a stone from the curb and timed my throw as a car was coming. They traveled about 30-35 miles an hour on this street. I wish we had a video of it. It was my first time throwing rocks at a car, but it landed like I’d been doing it all my life. It was a beautiful arcing throw that landed right on the front windshield of this car. Immediately the windshield had a spider web of cracks all over it. By the way, since then I’ve come to the conclusion that my 4-year-old friend had never actually thrown a rock at a car. At least he hadn’t hit one. He was just a 4-year-old big talker—you know the type. 😉

So I hit the car. Guess what my friend and I did then? We didn’t stay to admire our work—my work really. We took off running. Again we were four and five, so we weren’t setting any speed records. His house was the second one on the block and mine was the fourth, so I left him in my dust pretty quickly.

It occurred to my little 5-year-old brain that I probably shouldn’t actually go home. I ran behind my house and then hid in the neighbor’s backyard behind a bush.

My friend was seen going to his house so the victim of my crime stopped and talked to his parents. They confronted their son, and he pointed the finger at me. The little weasel… I’m kidding.

So the victim drove two more doors down and talked to my Dad. Mind you, all of this was going on without me knowing since I was hiding. Apparently my Dad told him he would pay for his windshield. I wasn’t at home, so he couldn’t talk to me. My Dad essentially issued an All Points Bulletin for me in the neighborhood. I just remember the neighborhood bully found me and dragged me home. Never liked that kid. Again, kidding. He was right to find me.

That true story illustrates the sinful reflex that all of us have. While I was running, I made the decision to hide. I’m only 5 years old. Who taught me that? No one. Or maybe we could say Adam and Eve did. Genesis 3 records their response to their sin in the Garden of Eden. They weren’t 5 years old like I was, but they actually hid in the bushes too—just like me. While I was hiding from my Dad who maybe wouldn’t have been able to find me without help, Adam and Eve were hiding from the God of the universe who never didn’t know where they were.

We like to hide, but it’s better if we come out into the light. God wants you to be characterized by an honest admission of sin in your life. If like most you’ve been hiding and pretending, it’s stunted your spiritual growth. We have to get honest about who we are. You need to become a terrible hider. You need to get worse at it. Do you want intimacy with God? Do you want to have real, deep human friendships? Wouldn’t you like that with your spouse? The only way to be known like that, to have fellowship, is to live in the light.

The Genesis 3 person needs to become the 1 John 1 person. That’s where we learn to walk in the light, to confess sin, to claim Christ’s intercession for us. How do we become more like 1 John 1 than Genesis 3? How do those hiding in the dark start walking in the light? Humble confession.

You don’t have to hide anymore. You can walk in the light. You can confess sin. You know why? Because you have an Advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous (1 John 2:1). Jesus knows your sin and intercedes for you. Why are you pretending you’re someone you’re not when Jesus already knows and already intercedes for you? This promise should be the death knell to our hiding. We have an Advocate! His intercession is always successful. Quit pretending. Come out into the light.

Think about this: when you and I hide and pretend, when we cover our sin, we make a mockery of the gospel. We live as if our situation wasn’t that desperate; as if we really didn’t need Christ’s sacrifice. As if we really don’t need Christ’s intercession. But when we have a realistic view of our sin, we are continually marveling at God’s grace through Christ’s death. We see our desperate struggle with sin and we know that only Christ’s death could make us righteous before God. Maybe you’re not that impressed with the Gospel because you’re not that aware of your sin.

You must live in the light. Saved people admit their sin. You don’t need to hide.

(I preached 1 John 1:5-2:2 in three sermons that you can find on First Baptist’s YouTube channel–March 29, 2026; April 12, 2026; April 19, 2026.)

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Why I Journal My Devotions

Many of us in ministry are word people. We like words. We play with words. We enjoy reading words. And we enjoy writing words. But some of those we minister to are not, and what seems natural to us needs to be encouraged. I have journaled my devotions for decades because I believe there is great benefit in writing down what I’m learning. But let me give you four reasons why I believe journaling can benefit your quiet time.

Journaling Helps You Remember; God Has Written (Mal 3:16)

God writes stuff down. The Book of Life is a written record of all those that are believers. Malachi 3:16 tells us that God keeps a record of those that fear Him. And the Bible is God-written literature. Why all this writing from God? Certainly one reason is that God knew we would forget an awful lot if it wasn’t written down. If God writes things down for our benefit, then maybe we should too. As I sometimes tell people in my church, God didn’t reveal himself through pictures in a comic book. He did it through the written Word. Writing is good.

Journaling Clarifies Your Thoughts; It Helps You Meditate

It’s easy for me to read a designated passage for the day, listen to Scripture on my phone, and even read my through-the-Bible reading for that day and not remember much if any of it. Sometimes I’m listening to the Bible, and I realize I don’t even know what passage I’m hearing. But reading a passage and then staring at a blank page forces me think about it. If I have to write something down, then I need to meditate on it. I have to understand it. If I want this passage to influence my relationship with God, my prayers, I must know what it means. I cannot get by with just reading it.

Journaling Leaves a Legacy; It Lets Your Children Know You

What a blessing your journals can be to your kids someday. They can read that you had real spiritual struggles, but also loved God passionately. The dates might even give them context about certain times in their lives when you were pleading with God and found him faithful. What they read can be a legacy of your spiritual journey. Letters used to give insight into our parents, but most don’t write letters anymore. Your devotional journal can give that insight.

Of course you don’t have to wait until you’re dead. Sometimes I text my grown children little diary items and what I was thinking at the time from previous years that showed up in my journal.

Journaling Encourages You; It Records Your Spiritual Progress

Laura and I started a written record years ago of family stories (it’s 19 pages!). When I read it, I’m surprised how many cute and funny things our children have said that I’ve forgotten. By what they said, I can even measure their spiritual progress over the years. They said funny things about theology when they were kids; now they say serious, worshipful things.

It’s great to be able to look back over your devotional journals and see what areas were struggles, how you understood God’s Word, and how you’ve grown. You can see it in black and white.

For the past few years I’ve made it a goal to read my devotional journal from 10 years ago, so I’m reading 2016 this year. This practice has been an encouragement to me. Here’s an example. In 2013 I was journaling about Abraham obeying God and leaving Ur not knowing where he was going. In my journal on Jan 21, 2013 I said this…

“God sends Abraham out without telling him where he is going to end up. He just needs to trust God for the destination. I wouldn’t do that. Abraham was a man of faith. He believed God.”

And I knew I lacked that faith in 2013. I had never left one ministry job without knowing where I was going next. Until 2023 when Laura and I said goodbye to a beloved ministry months before we knew where we were going. In 10 years God grew my faith. What a blessing to read that from 2013 and know God had changed me. Ten years later I was willing to step out by faith—sort of like Abraham.

We forget our spiritual struggles. Our journals can be a record of the Holy Spirit’s work of sanctification in us.

Maybe you’re not a writer; don’t worry about getting your grammar correct or even using full sentences. Write down what you’re thinking and learning about God. It can invigorate your devotions and reap dividends even years later.

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Burn Your Resume

A few years ago I did several workshops and a general session at an educator’s convention, and about a month later I got my evaluation back. This convention does its speakers a service by having all attenders fill out evaluations of each workshop they attended. The first number I saw was the group average evaluation for the entire convention and then I saw that mine was lower than the average. I had a response that might surprise you. I laughed. Not because I thought the evaluation was wrong. These are teachers after all, and I think they know good teaching. But I laughed because after I saw the group average for speakers I just assumed my number would be above average. With all the other speakers there, I knew I would be a cut above. I wasn’t. Oh, and they’ve not asked me back either. 😉

Ed Welch in his book, A Small Book About Why We Hide, has a short chapter titled “Resumes Set Afire”. He’s not talking about our actual resumes, the list of education and employers you’ve accrued over the years. No, it’s the resume that we think defines us, where we think we shine. Those things that we think we do better than others that set us apart.

He asks several provocative questions in encouraging us to dismantle them. If we toss them out, “Do some hurt more than others?” If that item weren’t true of you, would that hurt? Yes, yes it would. At least that’s my testimony. And then he asks, “What is left when achievements are gone?”

All four of our adult children are pursuing Christ, and Laura and I are very thankful. I know many dads that were more faithful than me where one or more children are an outlier. They are pursuing lifestyles or habitual sins that grieve their parents. I don’t deserve the children I have, and I would struggle if one of them walked away from God. I think godly children are part of my resume that I would find it difficult to part with.

I have a sense of humor that has been a blessing and a curse. I too often want others to think of me as a funny person. I think I outshine others that way. So if that were stripped away, could I be content? Would Christ be enough?

My opening points out that effective preaching and teaching are important to me. If I received no accolades, would Jesus be enough?

My father-in-law died with Alzheimer’s in 2023. He was a hard worker his entire life. He loved physical labor. Towards the end when he didn’t even recognize family, he would almost cry because he didn’t know what to do if he didn’t have a job–if he couldn’t work. Sometimes our resume is stripped from us. You can think you are a good husband and lose your wife to disease. You can believe you are an effective Christian servant and get fired from your ministry. I know some that have. Those things we think help us shine more than others can be taken away by God, and it’s for our good when he does.

It’s better to burn your resume than have it burned. Where are the areas where you think you shine? Is Christ enough if you’re not a good athlete, a master gamer, a serving spouse, an engaging host, an accomplished investor, a good student, a loving baby Mom, a skilled mechanic, a successful fisherman, or a popular teen? Is it enough that you have Christ?

For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. Matthew 6:21 (ESV)
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What King David and Philemon have in Common

A friend of mine started a church in Canada years ago that God blessed with many conversions. It became over 500 hundred attenders that were mostly new believers. Laura and I were able to do two marriage conferences there over the years, and it was so encouraging to see how teachable and hungry the people were. Often what we taught was the first time they had ever heard it, and they just assumed that if the Bible says that, they need to obey it. It was so much fun.

This same pastor friend said that one time they started a small group for men struggling with pornography. Again, lots of new believers who don’t know how church is done. They don’t know they are supposed to pretend they don’t struggle with lust. The church announced it and put a sign up on the church bulletin board and MEN SIGNED UP! I cannot imagine that happening in the churches I’ve known. Most Christians are way too private about their spiritual lives, and especially their spiritual failures. Would men sign up at your church where others could see their names?

I’ve been thinking about two passages in the Bible that seem to have a commonality that I never noticed before. Psalm 51 is a familiar psalm that we recognize as David’s song of repentance after his sin with Bathsheba. I’ve read it many times for my own soul’s benefit, and I’ve pointed others to it to encourage repentance.

But recently I thought about it as an example of David’s transparency about a major failure. The superscription says David wrote it after Nathan came to him after he had gone in to Bathsheba. The superscription is not subtle—it doesn’t say that David wrote this after some general failure in his life, but it specifically tells us and anyone who has read it over the years that it was David’s sin with Bathsheba—his adultery and murder.

That is incredibly transparent. We don’t like to admit our failures in specific, and David does here. Think about this: David intended this to be sung about his sin. He didn’t just admit it to a few trusted friends. He wrote a song about it. Why was King David so honest in his confession? Well he was clearly more concerned with repentance than covering up. It’s one reason we know his repentance was genuine.

The second passage was in Philemon where Paul appeals on behalf of the converted slave, Onesimus. In verse 2 Paul says that this letter was also written to Aphia, who was probably Philemon’s wife, and Archippus. Now who is Archippus? He most likely was a church leader either at Colosse or Laodicea.

See what Paul has done? He knew how Philemon should respond to his runaway slave, Onesimus, now that Onesimus is saved and growing. He wanted Philemon to forgive Onesimus. He even claims that he could have commanded Philemon to do this, but he wanted Philemon to do it on his own, not from compulsion (verses 8-9).

But Paul does apply some good pressure on Philemon to choose forgiveness, and one way he does that is by including Archippus as a recipient of the letter. Archippus would know how Paul appealed to Philemon. So this decision wasn’t just between Paul, Philemon, and even Onesimus (who probably brought the letter), but also included Archippus.

Philemon might have liked to consider this by himself, but Paul doesn’t allow that.

The connection between these two passages is transparency. David chose to be honest and open about his sin—can’t get much more open than writing a song about it. And Philemon was forced to be open and honest about his need to forgive Onesimus.

Your spiritual life is not yours alone. The entire church is invested. You should welcome opportunities to be honest about your struggles with sin. That encourages and edifies others and it leads you to humility—always a needed virtue (Jam 4:6). And you should welcome the intrusion of other believers who help you see your sin and plead with you to change. Just-Jesus-and-you Christianity is not biblical Christianity.

I want my church to be full of people that are not hiding their sin. I want them to be so secure in their identity in Christ that they don’t care what others know about them. And I want my church to be full of Christians that are willing, like Paul, to encourage each other to please God. And if I’m going to have a church like that, I need model that in my relationships. A step towards honesty and transparency feels risky, but it is a good step—just look at King David and Philemon.

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Embarrassed of My Embarrassment

January 2024 will be five years since my younger brother died. Jeff was two years younger than me and also mentally disabled. When we were growing up in the ‘70s, it was called mental retardation, but that’s not a helpful description anymore, nor does it seem kind. Jeff was disabled enough that he was never going to be able to live on his own. My parents insisted that Jeff live with them; they took parenting him very seriously, and he lived with them until his death in 2019. He was almost 49. Jeff couldn’t understand the question why? If you asked him about his motivations, he would just repeat the question back to you. Physically, he was fine while we were growing up. Later, sometime after I left the house, Jeff started having seizures. When he died in 2019, it was while he was recovering from a seizure.

Jeff with my kids quite a few years ago.

My older brother was always the better brother to Jeff. I never told him at the time, but I marveled that he never seemed embarrassed by Jeff. As a preteen and teenager I was. Jeff didn’t have Down Syndrome; you couldn’t tell he was disabled by his appearance. But as soon as he spoke, it was obvious—at least it was to 13-year-old me. He wasn’t cool, and while I was never going to be cool, I also didn’t want to stand out in any way. Jeff occasionally stood out, and I thought that made me stand out. It’s embarrassing how sinful my thinking was. I’m embarrassed of my embarrassment then. I didn’t love my brother well. That love he got from our older brother, Bill.

Jeff was hardly the only reason for my embarrassment. I struggled with what I now know the Bible calls fear of man. I still see it in my life, but thankfully I’ve seen growth. For the longest time, I didn’t even know what was going on in my heart.

It was Edward Welch’s book, When People Are Big and God Is Small that first alerted me to this biblical theme. I’m sure others have had the same experience, but as I read it, incidents in my past started to make biblical sense.

Of course how I responded to my brother when I was a teenager came to mind. Also, others. For example, I attended a small seminary and was the president of the student body for a semester. One of my responsibilities was to organize the annual Christmas chapel. I did organize the program, but I recruited other students to actually do it. I didn’t want to be up front if it failed. I cared way too much what others thought of me.

The fear of man brings a snare, But he who trusts in the Lord will be exalted. Prov 29:25

Scripture describes this problem as a trap, and I was trapped. I had lived my life to that point in slavery to the opinions of others. No, that’s not accurate. To the slavery of what I thought might be their opinions. I didn’t even know whether they thought that or not. But the fact that they might think poorly of me was an outcome horrible enough to paralyze me. The most obvious symptom was I didn’t tell others about Christ. What might they think?

For am I now seeking the favor of men, or of God? Or am I striving to please men? If I were still trying to please men, I would not be a bond-servant of Christ. Gal 1:10

The Bible also tells me that pleasing God and living for the approval of men are opposites. And that contradiction is why Welch titled his book, When People Are Big and God Is Small. Either God or people are going to be big in your thinking. Whom will it be?

Welch’s book is far more helpful than this short blog could be. He is a fellow sufferer of the fear of man. His vulnerability gives the book authenticity. This one thought—either I fear people or I fear God—has been so helpful to me. It’s invaded my language of confession of sin. It changed how I parented my own kids. We talked about how the fear of man can control us, but we actually want to be controlled by God. Pleasing God must be more important than pleasing others.

But to me it is a very small thing that I may be examined by you, or by any human court; in fact, I do not even examine myself. For I am conscious of nothing against myself, yet I am not by this acquitted; but the one who examines me is the Lord. 1 Cor 4:3–4

Scripture described my problem, and it gave me a way out. Growing in the fear of God chases out every other fear. The Apostle Paul didn’t live for the opinions or values of the world. He knew that only God’s opinion matters.

So what to do? I know this. Since it’s sin, Scripture has a solution. Realizing what Scripture calls it was the beginning of help for me. Seeing its tentacles in my life made me realize that I need God’s sanctifying grace even more than I thought.

May it help you too.