Christ Is Proclaimed 

They see me as their competition, And so the worse it goes for me,
the  better–they think–for them.

So how am I to respond? I’ve decided that I really don’t care about their motives,
whether mixed, bad, or indifferent. 

Every time one of them opens his mouth, Christ is proclaimed, so I just cheer them on!

And I’m going to keep that celebration going because I know how it’s going to turn out. 

Through your faithful prayers and the generous response of the Spirit of Jesus Christ, everything he wants to do in and through me will be done.

~Philippians 1:17-21

How many of us have been hurt by words? Many of us can shrug it off as unimportant. When Christians say hurtful things about us or to us? Members of the body of Christ? That stings. A lot.  Our immediate fleshly response is (1) you are truly a jerk (2) maybe the offender is right (3) how could a fellow sister/brother of Christ behave that way? (4) Just wait until everyone else sees what I see

Been there? Relate to any of that?  What I find absolutely awesome is that Paul, who clearly faces the same challenges we do, is able to stay focused on the good. He makes a conscious decision to cheer on and pray for those that criticize him. Paul understands that God has a plan for his life. He knows the importance of speaking God’s truth in all circumstances. He gets that actions are louder than words. He understands that “everything He (God) wants to do in and through me will be done”. He knows the end story. He knows how it all plays out.

After my mother died I had a huge disagreement with my grief stricken, cantankerous Father. His words hurt me deeply. That one heated encounter caused my father and I not to communicate for over 18 months. Two grown “churched” adults wounding each other with words.

I’ll never forget my father in law saying “Have you spoken to your Daddy recently?” I told him I hadn’t and why. Fully expecting him to jump on my bandwagon. He listened and very graciously said “You know, Elizabeth, I suspect George needs to hear from you. I suspect he needs to see you. He’s your Daddy. If I remember correctly we are suppose to honor our parents. You need to go see ole George”.

I was stunned. And hurt. His words stung. They stung because my father in law was 100% without a shadow of a doubt correct. The right thing for me to have done was to understand that my father was deeply depressed and grief stricken after my mother passed away. The right thing for me to do was to have had compassion for him regardless of my opinion. I chose to use words rather than actions.

Jesus calls us to love our neighbors. And crazy family members. We don’t have to like it. We must do it. The gospel can not go forth without doing so. We can not fully live a life of freedom in Christ when we are bound in sin.

I swallowed my pride and we went to see my Dad. During that year it was all about God growing me for His glory. My Dad never got any easier. We did bring him to live with us. Our entire family was with Him the day we prayed the gospel over Him. After squeezing my hand in acknowledgement that he had heard it he died.

God taught me the true meaning of love. He taught me that love is a decision not a feeling. My Dad never thanked me. Rarely said anything kind. Yet my choice to preach the gospel demonstrated Gods perfect plan through me used for His glory.

I know my Dad is in heaven. All the other hurt feelings just don’t matter. The end game means eternity in the presence of the King. “And I’m going to keep that celebration going because I know how it’s going to turn out”. 

“Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and make me willing to obey you.”-Psalm 51:12

 

Author: This Grace Filled Space

Wife to my college sweet heart for over 27 years, mother of two grown daughters, Eastern North Carolinian by marriage, learning to walk by faith as a widow post ALS with a Golden Retriever named Henry.

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