For Such a Time as this
As I, and so many of you, have been watching the news lately, I see that this is truly a tipping point for our nation. I have felt that way through the years as various people rose to leadership in America, but nothing can compare to the utter chasm of differences between the two-party platforms we see today. At the same time, I am impressed and amazed at the various Christians rising up in this hour to take a stand for truth and justice. It is not without loss they do this. There is a great political divide, and to be perceived as standing on one side means those on the other side of this divide reject and “cancel” you. I was thinking yesterday, how I began my journey in Michigans Upper Peninsula trekking up our road in the early morning light, praying for my small city and the people of the Upper Peninsula. Daily I asked God to bring revival to this deeply wooded area. My walk led to the county courthouse, the pride of our county, perched high on the hill. An obelisk celebrating the Finnish pioneers who founded the area with grit and determination stands on the lawn just before the large cement steps. I would always pause there, observing the etchings of men with rough saws chopping down the timber our area still relies on for its livelihood. Another etching was that of a woman, plowing up the soil as she guided a hefty ox. Those pictures felt like a message from God to my heart, which was often weary from attempting to plant a church in the remote and wooded North. I felt like a pioneer, as these Finnish folks once were. I was plowing the hard soil of human hearts and clearing the way for them to receive Jesus into their lives. It was hard and lonely, as it must have been for the pioneers of old. Finally, I’d climb the steps to the courthouse, and turn towards the North, where I had a fantastic view of the thin main street and its many Mom and Pop businesses perched along the hill, struggling to survive there. I’d bless them and then look beyond the city to the hills and wilderness that I could stretching out into the distance. “Bring Revival,” I would pray, “To Crystal Falls and the regions beyond.” I think of those prayers these days when I live in a different Northern town. Unlike Crystal Falls, it is populated enough to host fast-food restaurants and a small college. I remember my prayers for “The regions beyond” which is where I now live. I remember my prayers for revival to come to our wayward nation. My heart was often heavy as I looked out on the land before me. It was heavy over the broken lives I saw all around me. It was heavy from television news often reflecting decisions made in our court systems that undermined the Christian values I knew as a child. I ached for a true revival to return to America. One where people are so moved by the gospel of Jesus Christ cannot but change their ways and reflect God’s love in the way they raise children and conduct business. Instead, America seemed to grow more and more secular and cold towards that gospel. It seemed over the years demons were released from the bowels of hell to work mischief and tear apart the moral fiber of our great Nation. I was terrified the night of November 8th, 2016. I was watching election coverage and virtually shaking from the fear that our nation would be lost forever to a party I believe plans nothing but further moral decay to our nations freedom. At 3:30 am I learned America had chosen wisely. At last! I felt that all my trips to the courthouse were drops of oil that added to the bowls in heaven, where they joined with other saints fertile prayers and tipped this election in conservatives favor. I had a sense of hope as I gathered blankets over my tired frame and settled down ready to sleep peacefully at last. Except: As my head touched the pillow I heard God speak something to me that shook me to the core. “NOW you must really pray.” What? More than I had been? More than all those courtyard trips? More than the prayer meetings we called at church and my morning prayers with God? Why more? How could I pray more? But now we know, don’t we? That election revealed the battlefield and the real war for America’s soul. The last four years have shown us the good, the bad, and the ugly of America. Between riots, racism, Covid, and media meltdowns, we see now America is a tattered flag stitched together by the prayers of the saints. We are still pleading with the Almighty for mercy, even as we know a cleansing must take place if God is just. And He is. Francis Scott Key was gazing at such a tattered flag as he penned these words that never fail to bring tears to my eyes “Oh say, does that star bangled banner yet wave over the land of the free and the home of the brave?” Yes. It still does, Francis. For now it does. Will it be waving tomorrow? That is up to us. This is a tipping point. This is a Hinge of History. You and I are here because we have a part to play in history. I will be going through the book of Esther during the next 21 days on my podcast and in my blog. It’s a small way to join the battle for the soul of America. Esther was a woman who did not feel adequate for the task ahead of her, yet through her simple obedience and step of faith, she saved her nation. God placed her in the Citadel of Susa and gave her an audience with the king for such a time as this. We have been given an audience with the king. For the same reason. To save a nation. Everyone is needed! Come back weekly and join Esther and I as we move into the purposes of God for this crucial moment in History!
