Author: danefowlkes

“And immediately the Spirit driveth him into the wilderness.” Mark 1:12

It seemed a strange proof of Divine favor. “Immediately.” Immediately after what? After the opened heavens and the dove-like peace and the voice of the Father’s blessing, “Thou art my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.” It is no abnormal experience. . . .

Nay, but, my soul, the very suddenness of the change is a proof that it is not revolutionary. Hast thou weighed the comfort of that word “immediately”? Why does it come so soon after the blessing? Just to show that it is the sequel to the blessing. God shines on thee to make thee fit for life’s desert-places—for  its Gethsemanes, for its Calvaries. He lifts thee up that He may give thee strength to go further down; He illuminates thee that He may send thee into the night, that He may make thee a help to the helpless. Not at all times art thou worthy of the wilderness; thou art only worthy of the wilderness after the splendors of Jordan. Nothing but the Son’s vision can fit thee for the Spirit’s burden; only the glory of the baptism can support the hunger of the desert. (Streams in the Desert)

My father often said he was ‘waiting for the other shoe to drop.’ The idiom likely owes its origin to those living in tenement apartments in large American cities in the early 1900’s. These were flimsy apartment buildings with thin walls and floors, and individual apartments, or flats, were also quite small but still held large families. Men worked all hours trying to make a living, and came home late at night and sat on a bed or chair and took off their heavy work shoes one at a time, sometimes tossing them to the floor with no care for how it may disturb the people living immediately below. If it was very late and the people downstairs were asleep they might be awakened by the first shoe dropping. Then they couldn’t fall back to sleep until the man upstairs dropped his other shoe.

My father’s euphemism meant he was waiting for the inevitable. Although he voiced it with a decidedly pessimistic bent, he actually stumbled upon a spiritual truth. “After benediction comes battle.” Revelation is a grace that serves as the necessary prelude to inevitable testing to follow. Spiritual euphoria is never an end in itself, moments of glory steel us for inexorable seasons of struggle. Embrace the ecstasy of knowing God, and allow Him to fuel the endurance of obedience.

“In the shadow of his hand hath he hid me, and made me a polished shaft: in his quiver hath he hid me.” Isaiah 49:2

“In the shadow.” We must all go there sometimes. The glare of the daylight is too brilliant; our eyes become injured, and unable to discern the delicate shades of colour, or appreciate neutral tints – the shadowed chamber of sickness, the shadowed house of mourning, the shadowed life from which the sunlight has gone. But fear not! It is the shadow of God’s hand. He is leading thee. There are lessons that can be learned only there. The photograph of His face can only be fixed in the dark chamber. But do not suppose that He has cast thee aside. Thou art still in His quiver; He has not flung thee away as a worthless thing. He is only keeping thee close till the moment comes when He can send thee most swiftly and surely on some errand in which He will be glorified. Oh, shadowed, solitary ones, remember how closely the quiver is bound to the warrior, within easy reach of the hand, and guarded jealously. (Streams in the Desert)

Shadows do not prevent fullness. We are instructed to be filled with God’s Spirit because a Christ-honoring life may only be expressed from the overflow. If God’s mercy is not spilling over to touch others through us, we have become stale and as useful as moldy bread. The tragedy is not merely that we become unappetizing—we may be toxic. The world has seen and felt for too long the damaging effect of toxic churches and stale “followers” of Christ. It is insanity to expect unchanged persons to illicit resurrection in their communities and culture. Reject popular opinion, enter the tomb, and emerge transformed by the glory and power of God. Embrace daily radical filling and advance from the overflow.

“This is my doing.” 1 King’s 12:24

“The disappointments of life are simply the hidden appointments of love.”

“My child, I have a message for you today. Let me whisper it in your ear so any storm clouds that may arise will shine with glory, and the rough places you may have to walk will be made smooth. It is only four words, but let them sink into your inner being, and use them as a pillow to rest your weary head. ‘This is my doing.’ Have you ever realized that whatever concerns you concerns Me too? ‘For whoever touches you touches the apple of [my] eye’ (Zech. 2:8). ‘You are precious and honored in my sight’ (Isa. 43:4). Therefore it is My special delight to teach you. I want you to learn when temptations attack you, and the enemy comes in ‘like a pent up flood’ (Isa. 59:19), that ‘this is my doing’ and that your weakness needs My strength, and your safety lies in letting Me fight for you.

Are you in difficult circumstances, surrounded by people who do not understand you, never ask your opinion, and always push you aside? ‘This is my doing.’ I am the God of circumstances. You did not come to this place by accident—you are exactly where I meant for you to be. Have you not asked Me to make you humble? Then see that I have placed you in the perfect school where this lesson is taught. Your circumstances and the people around you are only being used to accomplish My will.

Are you having problems with money, finding it hard to make ends meet? ‘This is my doing,’ for I am the One who keeps your finances, and I want you to learn to depend upon Me. My supply is limitless and I ‘will meet your needs’ (Phil. 4:19). I want you to prove My promises so no one may say, ‘You did not trust in the Lord your God’ (Deu. 1:32).

Are you experiencing a time of sorrow? ‘This is my doing.’ I am ‘a man of sorrows, and familiar with suffering’ (Isa. 53:3). I have allowed your earthly comforters to fail you, so that by turning to Me you may receive ‘eternal encouragement and good hope’ (2 Thess. 2:16). Have you longed to do some great work for Me but instead have been set aside on a bed of sickness and pain? ‘This is my doing.’ You were so busy I could not get your attention, and I wanted to teach you some of My deepest truths. ‘They also serve who only stand and wait.’ In fact, some of My greatest workers are those physically unable to serve, but who have learned to wield the powerful weapon of prayer.

Today I place a cup of holy oil in your hands. Use it freely, My child. Anoint with it every new circumstance, every word that hurts you, every interruption that makes you impatient, and every weakness you have. The pain will leave as you learn to see Me in all things. (Streams in the Desert)

Acknowledging God’s sovereignty is not fatalism; it is choosing to see purpose and design behind every experience and circumstance. Instead of encouraging a view of God as distant and disinterested, it discloses Him as He is—loving Father, intimately invested in every outcome. The grandest statement in all of Scripture is this—“God with us.”

“He giveth quietness.” Job 34:29

“Quietness amid the dash of the storm. We sail the lake with Him still; and as we reach its middle waters, far from land, under midnight skies, suddenly a great storm sweeps down. Earth and hell seem arrayed against us, and each billow threatens to overwhelm. Then He arises from His sleep, and rebukes the winds and the waves; His hand waves benediction and repose over the rage of the tempestuous elements. His voice is heard above the scream of the wind in the cordage and the conflict of the billows, ‘Peace, be still!’ Can you not hear it? And there is instantly a great calm. ‘He giveth quietness.’ Quietness amid the loss of inward consolations. He sometimes withdraws these, because we make too much of them. We are tempted to look at our joy, our ecstasies, our transports, or our visions, with too great complacency. Then love for love’s sake, withdraws them. But, by His grace, He leads us to distinguish between them and Himself. He draws nigh, and whispers the assurance of His presence. Thus an infinite calm comes to keep our heart and mind. ‘He giveth quietness.’” (Streams in the Desert)

Rest and result are not mutually exclusive, despite all popular opinion to the contrary. Stillness appears at odds with a discipline characterized by going and telling. The world is racing toward a precipice of self-destruction, so time is of the essence; why, in the name of all that’s holy, would we retreat from the battle when so many eternal destinies hang in the balance? God placed a premium on restoration from the creation of the world. We are not machines; flesh and blood is created with the need for reflection and refreshment. There is no honor in rushing full bore into burnout; a ruined constitution benefits no one. Without periodic withdrawal, we become jaded with ourselves and those around us. Rest is not an interruption—a detriment to our calling; instead, it fuels strategic investment of personal and divine resources. Do yourself a favor the next time competing voices make it hard to hear yourself think. Stillness is a gift worth savoring often. We are all wounded servants, but there is nothing sacred about pain. Step aside from the fray long enough to heal, and you will find ample strength to press on despite the odds stacked against you.

“I will be as the dew unto Israel.” Hosea 14:5

“The dew is a source of freshness. It is nature’s provision for renewing the face of the earth. It falls at night, and without it the vegetation would die. It is this great value of the dew which is so often recognized in the Scriptures. It is used as the symbol of spiritual refreshing. Just as nature is bathed in dew, so the Lord renews His people. In Titus 3:5 the same thought of spiritual refreshing is connected with the ministry of the Holy Ghost—‘renewing of the Holy Ghost.’

Many Christian workers do not recognize the importance of the heavenly dew in their lives, and as a result they lack freshness and vigor. Their spirits are drooping for lack of dew. Beloved fellow-worker, you recognize the folly of a laboring man attempting to do his day’s work without eating. Do you recognize the folly of a servant of God attempting to minister without eating of the heavenly manna? Nor will it suffice to have spiritual nourishment occasionally. Every day you must receive the renewing of the Holy Ghost. You know when your whole being is pulsating with the vigor and freshness of Divine life and when you feel jaded and worn. Quietness and absorption bring the dew. At night when the leaf and blade are still, the vegetable pores are open to receive the refreshing and invigorating bath; so spiritual dew comes from quiet lingering in the Master’s presence. Get still before Him. Haste will prevent your receiving the dew. Wait before God until you feel saturated with His presence; then go forth to your next duty with the conscious freshness and vigor of Christ.” (Streams in the Desert)

I cannot get accustomed to being apart from my wife, and never want to. I still get giddy each morning that I’m home to brew her coffee and hand-deliver it as soon as she awakens. Text messages or phone calls suffice when I am forced to be away, but they cannot replace the sweet conversation and tender touch that starts the day for both of us in the right frame of heart. This is not marital dharma—some duty that I drag with me into each day; no, this is delight run amuck, romance and reverence all rolled into one. In a similar way, the believer knows firsthand that joy unspeakable awaits when we pursue the Father as delight rather than drudgery. Wait with Him until you are conscious of Him. Listen for Him until you have heard Him speak. Love Him all the more because He is the one object of greatest desire. Be satisfied, yet long for Him still.

We taste Thee, O Thou Living Bread,

And long to feast upon Thee still:

We drink of Thee, the Fountainhead

And thirst our souls from Thee to fill.

(Bernard of Clairveaux)

“God is in the midst of her; she shall not be moved: God shall help her, and that right early.” Psalms 46:5

“‘Shall not be moved’—what an inspiring declaration! Can it be possible that we, who are so easily moved by the things of earth, can arrive at a place where nothing can upset us or disturb our calm? Yes, it is possible; and the Apostle Paul knew it. When he was on his way to Jerusalem where he foresaw that ‘bonds and afflictions’ awaited him, he could say triumphantly, ‘But none of these things move me.’ Everything in Paul’s life and experience that could be shaken had been shaken, and he no longer counted his life, or any of life’s possessions, dear to him. And we, if we will but let God have His way with us, may come to the same place, so that neither the fret and tear of little things of life, nor the great and heavy trials, can have power to move us from the peace that passeth understanding, which is declared to be the portion of those who have learned to rest only on God.” (Streams in the Desert)

A friend in Ecuador whose name is Pablo told me over breakfast that his name comes from ‘Paul,’ which means “humble.” He is correct, of course. Paulus is Latin for ‘small’ or ‘humble,’ and seems especially appropriate in light of the beleagured apostle who denied himself daily in deference to the will and glory of God. This, then, is the secret of contentment—to come to the end of one’s self so that nothing remains but God and His renown.

“I am jealous over you with God’s own jealousy.” 2 Corinthians 11:2, Weymouth

“How an old harper dotes on his harp! How he fondles and caresses it, as a child resting on his bosom! His life is bound up in it. But, see him tuning it. He grasps it firmly, strikes a chord with a sharp, quick blow; and while it quivers as if in pain, he leans over intently to catch the first note that rises. The note, as he feared, is false and harsh. He strains the chord with the torturing thumb-screw; and though it seems ready to snap with the tension, he strikes it again, bending down to listen softly as before, till at length you see a smile on his face as the first true tone trembles upward.

So it may be that God is dealing with you. Loving you better than any harper loves his harp, He finds you a mass of jarring discords. He wrings your heartstrings with some torturing anguish; He bends over you tenderly, striking and listening; and, hearing only a harsh murmur, strikes you again, while His heart bleeds for you, anxiously waiting for that strain—‘Not my will, but thine be done’—which is melody sweet to His ear as angels’ songs. Nor will He cease to strike until your chastened soul shall blend with all the pure and infinite harmonies of His own being.” (Streams in the Desert)

“Come, Thou Fount of every blessing,

Tune my heart to sing Thy grace.”

My dad taught himself to play the guitar, and then moved on to learn the harmonica, accordion, mandolin, dulcimer, and keyboard. He picked up the violin nearer the end of his life. I honestly doubt there is a stringed instrument my father could not have learned. What added to the special quality of his ability is that he didn’t read music. Father played “by ear.” When I asked him to teach me to play the guitar, the first thing he did was instruct how to tune the instrument. I frustrated him at first because I would come close to getting in tune, but my father could hear the dissonance in the strings. Fortunately, he was patient, and I eventually learned to tune, although I never matched his ability to make music.

The disciple’s most critical responsibility is to surrender to the Master tuner. Christ is always baseline; the Father constantly adjusts my circumstances to bring me into tune with Him. Submit, then listen beyond the dissonance of the moment and you will recognize a harmony you could never produce on your own.

“Stablish, strengthen, settle you.” 1 Peter 5:10

“In taking Christ in any new relationship, we must first have sufficient intellectual light to satisfy our mind that we are entitled to stand in this relationship. The shadow of a question here will wreck our confidence. Then, having seen this, we must make the venture, the committal, the choice, and take the place just as definitely as the tree is planted in the soil, or the bride gives herself away at the marriage altar. It must be once for all, without reserve, without recall. Then there is a season of establishing, settling and testing, during which we must ‘stay put’ until the new relationship gets so fixed as to become a permanent habit. It is just the same as when the surgeon sets the broken arm. He puts it in splints to keep it from vibration. So God has His spiritual splints that He wants to put upon His children and keep them quiet and unmoved until they pass the first stage of faith. It is not always easy work for us, ‘but the God of all grace, who hath called us unto his eternal glory by Jesus Christ, after that ye have suffered awhile, stablish, strengthen, settle you.’” (Streams in the Desert)

I invented a game of emotional tag that I played with my mother, much to her chagrin. I would ask, ad nauseam, “Do you love me?”She would answer, “Yes, son,” to which my pat response was, “How much do you love me?” Then she would say, “A bushel and a peck and a hug around the neck.” Such a curious phrase—I wonder now if she was quoting from the lyrics to an old Doris Day tune:

I love you a bushel and a peck,

A bushel and a peck and a hug around the neck.

A hug around the neck and a barrel and a heap,

A barrel and a heap and I’m talkin’ in my sleep.

Or perhaps she simply repeated what she had heard her mother say numerous times throughout her own childhood. Either way, the whole ordeal would end in Mother’s embrace, only to repeat the cycle multiple times each day. I am certain she tired of the exchange, but she never gave a half-hearted response or listless hug. I received from her everything and more that a son could ask from his mother.

Until you and I are secure as sons and daughters, we will never move beyond unhealthy spiritual games of our own making. Stand firm in your position as a son or daughter. God’s Word declares you are loved with an everlasting love, and that hell itself cannot hold you back from His embrace. Divine love far exceeds a bushel and a peck, and His embrace endures throughout eternity.

“I have begun to give;…begin to possess.” Deuteronomy 2:32

“A great deal is said in the Bible about waiting for God. The lesson cannot be too strongly enforced. We easily grow impatient of God’s delays. Much of our trouble in life comes out of our restless, sometimes reckless, haste. We cannot wait for the fruit to ripen, but insist on plucking it while it is green. We cannot wait for the answers to our prayers, although the things we ask for may require long years in their preparation for us. We are exhorted to walk with God; but ofttimes God walks very slowly. But there is another phase of the lesson. God often waits for us. We fail many times to receive the blessing He has ready for us, because we do not go forward with Him. While we miss much good through not waiting for God, we also miss much through over-waiting. There are times when our strength is to sit still, but there are also times when we are to go forward with a firm step. . . . We are set to fight certain battles. We say we can never be victorious; that we never can conquer these enemies; but, as we enter the conflict, One comes and fights by our side, and through Him we are more than conquerors. If we had waited, trembling and fearing, for our Helper to come before  we would join the battle, we should have waited in vain. This would have been the over-waiting of unbelief. God is waiting to pour richest blessings upon you. Press forward with bold confidence and take what is yours. ‘I have begun to give, begin to possess.’” (Streams in the Desert)

“You cannot be a Christian without also being a pilgrim, travelling light through the world.” (Peter Masters)

I happened upon a new way of expressing feeling foreign to a situation or circumstance: “As out of place as a kingfisher on the Interstate.” On leaving New Orleans International Airport and rounding up and onto Interstate 10 East toward the New Orleans business district, I spied a kingfisher sitting on a grey metal guardrail overlooking the highway below. I did a double take, and had I been able to do so without endangering myself, I would have snapped a photo of the unusual sighting with my cell phone. Questions jostled for consideration: Where were the fish? Was he lost? Had she been confused by traffic, causing it to need to regroup and regain her wits about herself?

I sense a certain kinship with the ill-fitted urban kingfisher. I find myself feeling frequently out-of-place in the land of my birth. Not like when trying to pay my phone bill in Meru, Kenya, or meandering through a Hindu temple in Ahmedabad, India, where unfamiliar customs and language left me more than uneasy and wondering what a peaceable man like me was doing midst a scene of seeming chaos and conflict; but out-of-sync with the currents swirling about in this postmodern world. Ironically, life down here is supposed to feel this way. The Bible terms us “pilgrims passing through,” transients in a culture gone mad. Believers are earthly vagabonds, cultural hobos. The moment we feel fully at home in this world is the instant we have forsaken our sacred destiny; a divinely orchestrated tension is intended. Christians are called to extend grace that beckons to the One beyond, without holding hands with that which disgraces the name and character of Christ. If you find yourself increasingly restless as you encounter a world you no longer understand, take heart. This is precisely as God intends. Do not wring your hands as one powerless to change the situation, or hang your head in despair. Advance with a sense of destiny. The world of faith is indeed small, always navigated by the next step. Faith inevitably fans the flame of distrust. Learn to operate by divine dependence by valuing obedience over reputation. Others cast dispersion simply because it is always easier to criticize than support. Move forward. The more at odds you feel with this present age, the more suited you are for the age to come.

“Thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.” Psalms 23:4

“I had never known,” said Martin Luther’s wife, “what such and such things meant, in such and such psalms, such complaints and workings of spirit; I had never understood the practice of Christian duties, had not God brought me under some affliction.” It is very true that God’s rod is as the schoolmaster’s pointer to the child, pointing out the letter, that he may the better take notice of it; thus He pointeth out to us many good lessons which we should never otherwise have learned. (Streams in the Desert)

The harsh part for some is relinquishing the fantasy. Some never quite get over the shock of it, holding on to the bitter end wondering why they did not live happily-ever-after. The crux of our burden is found just there—we have swallowed the lie that following God’s way guarantees a life of ease and plenty. It is high time to push past the fairy tale. As the Good Shepherd, our Lord carries both rod and staff; a rod in order to defend, and a staff to rescue or discipline, as the situation merits. If this were not so, suffering and hardship would void the goodness of God, and we would be left Fatherless. Fortunately for us, God uses everything for our eventual good, regardless the discomfort or confusion of the moment.

The Gospel admittedly contains all the elements of a remarkable fairy tale. The King gives his Son up for his subjects. The Son endures an epic death at the hands of merciless villains. Angels weep and men despair until the Son turns the world right-side-up again in triumph over the tomb. But the Good News is not a fairy tale. It is history, but it is more than history; it is, in the best of ways, personal. Push past the story line and engage the Person of Christ. Converse with Him, speak and listen to Him. Long for Him. Touch Him. Bathe your dialogue in honesty—dishonesty serves no purpose but to drive us farther apart. The Father may not numb your pain, but He will tend your wounds. The Incarnate God of rod and staff knows firsthand the harsh reality of this world, and loves us all the more for it.