wrestling in the waiting.
 

// Originally published on TerriPrahl.com //

I’m really familiar with waiting. Like up-close-and-personal kind of familiar. Like you’ve-seen-all-the-worst-parts-of-me kind of familiar. Waiting and I—we’re not exactly friends, but I don’t think we’re enemies either. We’ve been in a few rough fights, but I’ve learned to appreciate her too. We’re like middle school buddies who’ve become adults. We may not see eye to eye all the time, but she knew me when I wore bright blue eyeshadow and went through that Zac Efron obsession, and I knew her when she covertly binged Laguna Beach even though she wasn’t allowed to watch MTV. (This is all hypothetical, of course, and not at all experienced scenarios.) 

 But we’ll always have that thing, you know? We’ve hit the lowest of lows together, and we’ve come out on the other side in one piece (for the most part). Hindsight tells me to thank God for the waiting; for it was in the waiting where He made me a warrior. 

My worst fight with waiting involved a lot of negative pregnancy tests, needles, and prayers. It involved a lot of question-asking and tear-crying and heart-breaking. But I also had some good times with waiting, too. I desperately reached for God in a way I hadn’t before. I laughed so much it hurt. I grew thankful for the small-but-beautiful moments that otherwise might have gone unnoticed.

 For me, I think the hardest thing with waiting is the not-knowing. 

When will this end?

How will this end?

How is God going to use this?

It’s in those middle, in-between moments where I find myself regressing in frustrated impatience. And then I get frustrated at myself because of my frustration in a weird, downward spiral that is not entirely becoming.

I think, “If I am following Jesus, shouldn’t I be able to wait in a peaceful and patient manner? I should be better at this by now. I am the actual worst.” (This is a very logical thought process, obviously.) As my inner monologue starts to go in a dangerous and doubtful direction, I get a little (or a lot) panicky.  

But then, like a good father picking up his small-and-scared little girl, the Lord faithfully leads me back to Himself. He lets me ask the questions and then turns me in the right direction. I just have to follow, step by step. 

The main way God healed many of my waiting wounds was through Scripture. I opened up the Bible when I didn’t feel like it, and He gently reoriented my perspective. Through the power of the Holy Spirit, His Word washed over me and gave me life, purpose, and hope.

but they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength; 
they shall mount up with wings like eagles;
they shall run and not be weary;
they shall walk and not faint.
— Isaiah 40:31

We “shall run and not grow weary” not because of our own power, but because we are resting in His power. We “shall walk and not faint” and “renew [our] strength” not because of what we have done, but because we are relying on what the Lord has done.  

… 

Through Scripture, the Lord showed me not to wait on circumstances, necessarily, but to wait on HIM. Because as we lift our gazes off ourselves and onto our Savior, we can’t help but grow in patient contentment. This is how we wrestle through the difficult moments. This is how we persevere through the hard things. This is how we wait well. We must keep looking to the God of the Bible, over and over again.

We won’t do this perfectly, of course. And Lord knows it won’t always be easy, breezy, or beautiful (unlike a Cover Girl ad). We will definitely trip over our own desires and get somewhat sidetracked sometimes. We will continue to have occasional thought spirals that are not true. 

But we can keep coming back to this truth: God’s timing and plans have always been—and will always be—perfect and good. We can’t always see the beautiful masterpiece the Lord is painting, but He intimately knows every detail, color, and stroke. Do I sometimes wish that it was more of a paint-by-number situation? Sure. But I’m not the Master Artist; He is. 

As I look back on my hardest wait yet, I can see more of His masterpiece. It’s more beautiful than I could have ever imagined. The wrestling of the wait revealed a wondrous work. 

Maybe you’re in the messy middle of a difficult waiting season right now. Or maybe you find yourself antsy and frustrated in the everyday waits you find yourself in: checkout lines, traffic lights, holds with those not-always-friendly customer service representatives.

I see you and have a word of encouragement for you today, friend: 

Even though your wait may seem like an inconvenience, it’s really an invitation. An invitation to grow in patience. An invitation to rely on Jesus. An invitation to slow down and surrender to the God who’s got it all figured out. 

Let’s halt our hurry and watch the Lord use our times of wait for His glory!

 
Alex Fly
from the crowd to the cross.
 
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I’ve been feeling the weight of things lately. I’m guessing you have too? 

There’s so much evil and so many opinions and even more hurting people. There is real pain and fear and brokenness. There are divisions in families and churches and friendships that seem to be growing deeper, and enough finger pointing going around to last a lifetime. 

Sometimes I wish I could click my heels together, like Dorothy and her ruby red slippers and make all of the hard stuff go away. 

But the world keeps splitting wide open, along with our hearts. And yet. It keeps turning. So I keep making the coffee and changing the diapers and saying the prayers. I keep writing the words and sending the emails and reading the books, laughing and crying and loving and hoping.

I keep turning to the One with all the answers… because I feel a little like Peter when he says, 

“Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life, and we have believed, and have come to know, that you are the Holy One of God” (John 6:68-69).

Let’s set the scene to better understand Peter’s response. 

Jesus had just finished feeding the 5,000 and walked on water later that evening. The next day, the crowd follows Him, not necessarily because of their faith but in hopes of receiving more food

Jesus answers them, “Truly, truly, I say to you, you are seeking me, not because you saw signs, but because you ate your fill of the loaves. Do not work for the food that perishes, but for the food that endures to eternal life…” (John 6:26-27).

They ache for the material things but not the spiritual. Jesus offers them truth, but they still don’t get it. They keep asking for manna from heaven, like the Israelites received in the wilderness. After some back and forth, Jesus says, “I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me shall not hunger, and whoever believes in me shall never thirst” (verse 35). 

The food is temporary. But faith in Christ? That is of eternal significance. Jesus satisfies in a way that temporal things never could.

Jesus goes on to point out how He came down from heaven, but the crowd starts complaining and grumbling. They may have liked the free meals, but they don’t love the message. They want the sustenance without the surrender. the kingdom without the King. the blessings without the Burden-Bearer.

As they grow angrier and more offended at Jesus’s words, many of the people turn away and stop following Jesus altogether (verse 66). That’s when Jesus looks at the Twelve and asks, “Do you want to go away as well?” (verse 67).

And then Peter responds with the honest-to-goodness truth that hits close to home. Where else would I go? 

Jesus is the Bread of life. The Light of the world (John 8:12). The Good Shepherd (10:11). The Resurrection and the Life (11:25). The True Vine (15:1). The Way, the Truth, and the Life (14:6). No one else compares to Him. There is nothing on this earth that comes close to competing with Him.

When we look around at a heavy world that wants to be saved but doesn’t want our Savior, may we have the courage to stand our ground and cling to Him. 

When we look around at the fear and division and hatred that seems to be growing by the minute, may we find ourselves full of Spirit-filled faithfulness and a peace that passes all understanding.

When we look around and see the rubble of kingdoms built on sand, may we be the ones who stand up and say, “Come join me on this Solid Rock. You will be safe here for all of eternity. Christ is enough, and He is our Only Hope.”

Enter by the narrow gate. For the gate is wide and the way is easy that leads to destruction, and those who enter by it are many. For the gate is narrow and the way is hard that leads to life, and those who find it are few.
— Matthew 7:13-14

The crowd will yearn to catch a glimpse of the miracles, but then turn and declare, “This is a hard saying; who can listen to it?” (verse 60). The same crowd that shouts Hosanna (“Save us”) will plead for His crucifixion. The crowd will be tossed to and fro based on feelings, popularity, and fear.

The crowd cries for help but not for holiness. They refuse to recognize their own sinfulness and selfishness. They stubbornly resist the truth of the Gospel and twist Scripture to their advantage. We’ve seen it throughout Scripture and throughout history.

But still, Christ died for people in those chaotic crowds. I don’t know your story, exactly, but I’m guessing we have all been part of the crowd at one point or another. We have been like Peter, who vowed his allegiance to Christ and then denied Him when it was convenient. We have been like the criminal on the cross, captured in our own sinful deeds. We have been like the people who ached for the physical protection rather than the Healer of souls. We have been like Paul, caught up in self-justified corruption.  

Here’s the difference, though: we don’t stay in the crowd. As Christians rescued by the grace of God, we move from conviction to repentance and surrender. We move from the crowd to the cross.

Peter confesses his convictions. The thief on the cross acknowledges his sins and surrenders to the Savior beside Him. Paul stops persecuting and starts preaching. Jesus does not leave His people where we once were, but continues to grow His followers in obedience and holiness—with buckets of grace along the way.

Let us not be remain part of the fickle and faithless crowd. Let us not hang our hopes on temporary solutions, grow resentful when things get hard, or cower to peer pressure. But let us be faithful followers, full of repentance, obedience, and humility. Let us be radically transformed disciples who hold fast to our Savior of Scripture, no matter the consequences. 

After all, where else would we go? 

 
Alex Fly
on social media.
 
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I have a lot of feelings about social media. (You may be nodding your head as you recall my detox journey from a few years ago.) I guess I’m mainly talking about Instagram because that one still seems to be the one that occupies most of my attention. Lately it’s been feeling hard and heavy, broken and burdensome. And I don’t want to disengage and shut down completely, but I’ve been taking a few steps back in hopes of shifting my gaze back to the goodness and sovereignty of God.

Sometimes I genuinely love all of the connection it brings—keeping up with friends/their jobs/babies and stumbling across a page of like-mindedness that reminds you, “I’m not alone in this.” As a lover of design and photography and words, I’m a big fan of the creativity and inspiration I often find there. I love discovering new theology resources and sermons filled with Biblical wisdom. In those encouraging and connecting aspects, I can feel the “social” part of it pretty well. I can glimpse the good stuff.

But then sometimes the yucky stuff seems to bombard me—the comparison and the name-calling and the shove-it-down-your-throat sort of opinions that make me want to throw my phone off a cliff. Like most people I know, I hate that feeling of being left out when I see a photo of my friends hanging out without me (I'm forever grateful that we didn't have social media while I was in middle school.) And I often run from that feeling of stubborn annoyance when I see other people succeeding in the tender areas I just failed in. I feel deeply sad for the state of the world and am often overwhelmed by the brokenness of it all.

I’m reminding myself that these apps are literally designed with our addictive natures in mind, seeking to pull us in with endless scrolling and dopamine hits and social outrage—whatever keeps us coming back. The tech powers want us to spend hours upon hours immersed in their world while they rake in the dollars. They don’t really care if we suffer emotionally or waste our lives in the meantime. (*Edited to add: I should clarify that thankfully there are many employees of these companies who truly do care about the people that use their services. While these are still businesses running with financial incentives, there is nuance in this conversation—which I should have pointed out originally.)

So what do we do about all of this as followers of Christ? The Bible doesn’t specifically address living in the digital age, of course (could you imagine the disciples walking around with iPhones??), but there are a few verses that I come back to when thinking about and praying through this issue (go and read the full passages for context; if you’re familiar with these passages, you’ll probably recognize the various hyperbolic, poetic, and epistolary natures of these verses):

If your right eye causes you to sin, tear it out and throw it away. For it is better that you lose one of your members than that your whole body be thrown into hell. 30 And if your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off and throw it away. For it is better that you lose one of your members than that your whole body go into hell (Matthew 5:29-30).

Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart
    be acceptable in your sight,
    O Lord, my rock and my redeemer
 (Psalm 19:14).

Whatever you do, work heartily, as for the Lord and not for men, 24 knowing that from the Lord you will receive the inheritance as your reward. You are serving the Lord Christ (Colossians 3:23-24).

Know this, my beloved brothers: let every person be quick to hear, slow to speak, slow to anger (James 1:19).

 …

In a world full of instant gratification, I think it’s important to step back and check our intentions and thought patterns at the Bible’s door, over and over again. Although I wish there was a Matrix-like pill I could take to automatically filter everything through, we must repetitively study and obey the Word of God in all aspects of our lives. We must use Spirit-led discernment and discipline to do so.

As for practical application, I don’t think I have the answers for how to handle it all, but I am learning that less is more. Like anything that can lead to destructive tendencies, we need boundaries and space and guidelines when it comes to our devices and (especially) social media. Let’s habitually check in and ask:

Is this leading me to be more sinful or more sanctified?

Am I approaching this in a self-centered way or others-centered way?

Am I using this to glorify myself or glorify God?

Some of us may need to log out of that time-sucking platform for good. Some of us may need to take consistent weekly breaks or longer breaks away from social media. I think all of us need to limit our screen time in some way, but I don’t know what the specifics of what that looks like for you. 

For me, I have found a few boundaries that have helped when it comes to my phone. I don’t do these things perfectly and am still learning to pivot as needed. Also, this list entails my personal guidelines. Yours may look very different based on your convictions or tendencies. Here are my guidelines right now:

o   one day off social media every week (we typically choose Sundays)

o   one month off social media every year

o   limit Instagram screen time every day (Settings>Screen Time>App Limits)

o   don’t allow myself to look at social media before I have spent time in the Word (every week day)

o   keep notifications turned off so they don’t prompt me to open the app (Settings>Notifications>Choose the app & slide the “Allow Notifications” to off).

o   the comment section is not a place for my arguments. Sometimes I do provide pushback in direct messages if 1) I know the person in real life 2) I’ve thought a lot about this issue/post/problem 3) I am sending out of love and not ill will. If my message doesn’t meet these criteria, then I don’t send it. 

o   if I am repetitively feeling negatively toward a particular person’s content, I either: mute their stories/posts or unfollow them. (This is not necessarily their fault, and a mute/unfollow is nothing personal. My less-than-godly feelings aren’t anyone else’s fault but my own, and hitting that unfollow or mute button is a good way to keep those negative emotions in check.)

I’m really trying to break the Instagram-scroll habit when I’m waiting in lines or just have a bit of down time. I’ve found that the Kindle app helps a ton with this; I can just open up the book I’ve been reading instead of mindlessly scrolling. I’ve also gotten really into listening to podcasts to keep up with news, current events, etc. These apps can be vices, too, of course, so I’m not off the hook in these arenas and there are times when I need to unplug completely. But generally, they tend to be more life-giving/less soul-sucking than Instagram or Facebook for me.  

Honestly, I’m still working on being content in stillness and silence. I’m learning to be fully present in those in-between moments where I often reach for my phone as a numbing distraction. I’m continually reminding myself that a comment or “like” does not replace real, face-to-face conversations or community. I’m finding that it’s okay not to snap the picture every time or google the question I’m asking. There are times for that, of course. But there are also times to lean in and appreciate the moments in real life. There are times to let the Lord guide you through those thoughts instead of asking the world’s opinion. 

All of that to say—there are obviously problems with social media, but we should also acknowledge there are some good things there and what man meant for evil, God can use for good (see Genesis 50:20). If we engage with the right mindset, we can learn from others. We can encourage others. We can share the love of Christ with others. We can rejoice with those who rejoice and weep with those who weep, while pointing us all to the Only One who can save souls. We can have grace for ourselves and others when we don’t do it all perfectly.

This good stuff is why I keep showing up there and why I don’t plan to cut out social media completely. Maybe I will one day, but for now I will keep going back in hopes of connection and laughter, authenticity and inspiration.

And as I stumble through it, I will continue to implement boundaries and Biblical truths until it’s safe to return in a God-glorifying way. 


I would love to hear your thoughts about social media—do you have boundaries in place? Do you find the good outweighs the bad or vice versa? Did you delete it altogether or are you still showing up on all the platforms? 

P.S. Here’s a list of recommended resources about our devices & how we engage with them:

o   The Tech-Wise Family by Andy Crouch

o   12 Ways Your Phone is Changing You by Tony Reinke

o   Digital Minimalism by Cal Newport (I’m currently reading this one; it’s not from a Christian perspective, but it’s super interesting so far)

o   The Social Dilemma (Netflix Documentary; also not from a Christian perspective)

 
on marriage.
 
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I was talking with a friend the other day about their love story. Like us, this couple started dating early in college, so we were all reminiscing about college days and discussing old pictures. “It’s funny,” I said, “because when I look at a picture of us as freshmen in college, I see two completely different people than the people we are now.” 

Kevin and I have both changed so much since we were 18 (praise the Great Lion of Judah!) We have also changed since we were first married at 22 (yes, I was basically a child bride). And we will continue to grow and change along the way, Lord willing. 

Whereas this is a crippling thought for some, I think change is good and important if we are both headed in the same direction: toward sanctification in Christ.

Kevin and I got engaged at the beginning of our senior year in college. When he proposed, he read from John 13 and washed my feet. It was far from an empty gesture because the past eight years of marriage have been full of moments where he chose to show up and serve me when I didn’t deserve it. 

Less than a year after the proposal, I wore a long white dress made of lace, walked down the aisle to 10,000 Reasons, and mended my heart, publicly and spiritually, underneath an arbor of white flowers to my best friend. 

The trees were filled with ribbons and lace, dancing with the breeze. A lot of things went wrong, but the most important things went right. It was an imperfectly perfect day—magical and meaningful and full of glory. I am still so thankful for all of the ways our people showed up and loved us on that day. 

After the wedding, we honeymooned in the Dominican and got all of our cash stolen. We packed up our cars and moved to Arkansas, where we didn’t know anyone. Looking back, it’s obvious to see that we were naive in every sense of the term. Although I’m 100% certain I’ll look back to where we are now and say the same exact thing one day. 

People told us how young we were to be getting married in condescending tones and warned us how hard it would be. We did a lot of smiling and nodding, because we loved Jesus and each other. And for us, that was enough. 

I know we’re still young, that we haven’t yet gone through a lot of life and the really hard seasons of raising rebellious teenagers. I know we still have a lot of learning in the years ahead of us. But I can’t help but think that marriage is so, so good. We are growing up together, side by side and hand in hand. I am learning more about Jesus, about my own sinfulness and my husband’s selflessness.

And sure, there are days when we fight, the truly angry kind where we give mean looks and don’t do a lot of talking until we both apologize for being stupid, selfish sinners. 

Because that’s what we are: sinners. And marriage means double the sin. You are joined to that other person fully, so you help bear his baggage, and he takes on yours. Then you both hand that joined baggage over to Jesus. 

Marriage is sacred and good and hard like that. It is the most rewarding and vulnerable community I have ever been a part of. 

And you’re probably rolling your eyes right about now, but I am holding on to this goodness as hard as I can. We are taking precautions and fighting for our marriage because we know the devil wants to destroy every piece of it. We’re not going to let him.

Because, let me tell you—I think God knew what He was doing when He created the sacred covenant of marriage. I think He knew it would be challenging and wonderful, full of glory and endless ways of making us a little more like Jesus.  I think He knew that He was creating a place where we could be silly and repent our sinfulness and feel safe. 

I think marriage—this sacred rhythm of husband and wife doing life together—is one of God’s very best inventions.

Sometimes I am asked marriage advice, which makes me laugh out loud for a full two minutes. But then, once the laughing dies down and I realize they are serious, I usually find myself coming back to these main points I have learned (and am still learning after eight years, which is entirely too obvious for my patient husband):

1.     Our foundation matters.

We must keep Christ at the center, as the Cornerstone where He so rightfully belongs. On the same note, we must keep His Word at the center. Not to mention our prayer life should be more active than a three-year-old on a sugar high (This is hypothetical, of course. Bless all of you with threenagers.) If we do not have our marriage roots in Christ and His Word, along with an active prayer life, then we will fall apart faster than Jericho itself. We must keep asking ourselves in both peaks and valleys, “What is our purpose here? Have we looked to see what Scripture says about this? Have we prayed over this?” 

If we establish our foundation in Christ and declare that we will choose to wake up and love the other person regardless of our feelings, then Christ will be glorified in our marriage. Our spouse may not always make us happy, but with a rock-solid foundation in Jesus, we can grow in holiness and acquire the joy, joy, joy, joy down in our hearts (like the Sunday school song declares).

2.     We should view our spouse in a lens of grace.

If we keep score on every little thing our significant other does wrong and then throw it in their faces at opportune moments, this will end poorly (I say this from experience, obviously). And then they might just bring up some of your hypocrisy and sinfulness and you might find yourself crying in the bathtub while saying, “I am the worst wife in the history of wives. I am Eve herself.”

Critique without grace often comes back like a boomerang, ladies and gents. So let’s observe that beautiful golden rule and treat our spouse in the way we want to be treated, which is preferably with heaps and heaps of grace.

3.     Praise him at the gates (see Proverbs 31:23)

Allow me to speak to all of the wives for a moment: we should be our husbands’ biggest cheerleaders, even when they are not present. Just like harsh and inconsiderate words negate intimacy in our relationships, a few kind and encouraging words breed life for our husbands. 

When girlfriends are dishing on their husbands, we can sit silently or share some of the ways in which we have failed our husbands (this takes up approximately one thousand hours for me, so it really helps change the course of conversation). I’m not saying I’ve been perfect in this arena, but I strive to be the wife who builds up rather than the one who tears down. 

I still lovingly make fun of him, though. I am not Mother Teresa. 

4.     Have intentional conversations, and have them often.

This is a big one for us. As newlyweds, we found ourselves loving marriage but also a little bit disconnected from each other—which sounded crazy, since we began sharing a bed and a last name. But it seemed that Kevin and I were spending the majority of our time binge watching The Office and not enough time having real, honest conversations. After a few long months of feeling this way, we began a series of asking each other weekly questions. This habit quickly and completely shifted our relationship into deeper, holier spaces. 

Every Sunday, no matter how long the day or where we are—we discuss the same 6 questions. We’ll be driving across state lines or walking the roads in our neighborhood or curled up on the sofa and we’ll talk about our weekly highs and lows, our dreams and thoughts and convictions. Sometimes it will last minutes and sometimes it will last hours. Sometimes we bust out laughing and sometimes we burst into tears. But we are always glad we took the time to connect in this way, seeing where our heads and hearts have been dwelling and gently speaking encouragement and life back to one another. 

Whether you choose your own list of weekly questions, write letters to each other, or pray with your spouse on the phone during your commute to work, find a place time where you can connect in real, honest, and vulnerable ways and then make a consistent habit of it. It could potentially be awkward at first, but you might just be surprised in all of the beautiful ways God grows your marriage during these conversations. 

5.     Have fun together.

In the name of Narnia, not everything has to be so serious all of the time. Go on a hike or a spontaneous trip to the edge of the ocean. Go bowling or play laser tag or cheer on your favorite football team or build a fort in your living room. Don’t be robots who only discuss work or kids’ schedules or all of the reasons you are too busy to do that. Don’t forget to dream and play and live to the very fullest.

Even in our weekly questions, at the end of the usually-serious discussions, we simply ask each other a random question. This will usually be something silly and ridiculous, like our most desired superpower or our favorite Parks & Rec character (it’s gotta be superspeed and Ron for me). We have fun through both big and small ways—through taking a trip or walking around the neighborhood or having friends over for outdoor movies. 

There are endless ways of having fun, but I keep finding this concept is important in all relationships, and especially in marriages. If we can’t have fun together and laugh with each other, then we are missing out on so much of the JOY God wants us to experience in this crazy and messy and hilarious life.   

6.     We have been designed not to walk through marriage alone, but in community. 

You may be tired of hearing this, but I will keep shouting it from the rooftops because community is so undeniably important and entirely too easy to neglect when it comes to our marriages. 

Biblical marriage counseling is a good thing. Small groups are so helpful. Couple friends are life-giving to marriages in all kinds of ways. We cannot hide down in our bunkers forever (no matter how much this introverted homebody would love that). We cannot neglect the people around us—not only because it is a gratifying experience for our marriages, but also because community is such a vital part of living life for the glory of God.  

7.     Never use the word hubby.

This is based on nothing Biblical whatsoever, just cold-and-hard opinion. Blessed assurance, I am doing all of us a favor here. 

 
Alex Fly
the golden calf.
 
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[If you’ve recently read the golden calf story from Exodus 32, then you’ll be familiar with the plot lines of this little recap.]

Let’s set the scene: God has rescued His people (the Israelites) out of Egypt, and He is leading them into the Promised Land (where there’s milk and honey galore). On their way, they camp out around Mount Sinai so that God can speak with Moses (where Moses is given lots of instructions on how to live/what to do). Moses often comes down from the mountain and relays information with his people. 

In Exodus 24 (on one of his trips down), Moses “came and told the people all the words of the Lord and all the rules. And all the people answered with one voice and said, ‘All the words that the Lord has spoken we will do’” (Exodus 24:3).

So the Israelites know the Ten Commandments, they’ve seen God work wonders, and they declare their allegiance to Him. (I think we know where this is going). 

But then, while Moses is back up on Mount Sinai, the people grow impatient and call on Aaron (their acting leader while the head honcho is unavailable) to make them more gods. You know, just in case

So Aaron, apparently suffering amnesia alongside the rest of them from just witnessing GOD PART THE RED SEA, agrees to the demands. He gathers up all of their golden jewelry and creates a golden calf (a symbol of power), which they immediately begin to worship. In one fell swoop, the Israelites break the first three commandments. 

One might say that things aren’t going so well down there. 

Here’s the part that jumped off the page when I recently read this passage:

After the golden calf is built, the people exclaim, “These are your gods, O Israel, who brought you up out of the land of Egypt!” (Exodus 32:4)  

Now, you probably noticed that Scripture only mentioned one golden calf. But they declared their allegiance to gods (multiple). Sure, I guess it’s possible they created multiple golden idols, but I think they were still worshiping the one true God alongside the fake, golden god. Because the very next verse, Aaron proclaims that “Tomorrow shall be a feast to the Lord” (32:5). Jehovah. They follow through with this feast and even give offerings. 

In a vain attempt to also honor the one true God, the Israelites tried to merge religions together. They didn’t outright deny faith in God, but they added the worship of something else alongside their worship of Jehovah. 

But the Lord’s throne occupancy is not up for revision. He does not share worship with idols. God wants our full devotion, nothing less. We must love the Lord our God with all our hearts, souls, and minds (Matthew 22:37).

It’s a tale as old as the Garden of Eden: they thought they knew better than God. They thought they could add something to their worship to make their lives better. They thought they could disobey the Lord and get away with it. I suppose the Israelites didn’t realize that one’s worship and love of God is directly related to obedience to God. Love for and obedience to the King of Kings cannot be separated (see John 14:15). Obedience is the fitting response to true salvation.

Back to the story, where the Israelites went all wrong. After the feast, they “rose up to play” (indicating their incorporation of more immoral behavior). Disobedience to God often leads to further corruption, which sounds like the case here. 

God acknowledges the Israelites’ blatant twisting of His commands and says to Moses, “Go down, for your people, whom you brought up out of the land of Egypt, have corrupted themselves. They have turned aside quickly out of the way that I commanded them” (32:7-8). 

In His perfect righteousness, God threatens destruction of the Israelites right then and there. But Moses intercedes on their behalf, and God relents “of the disaster He had spoken of bringing on His people” (32:14). (Do we see the foreshadowing of the Perfect Intercessor here?!)

So Moses comes back down the mountain (anyone else automatically adding yee-haw to this phrase? Asking for a friend). He sees the idol worship and the dancing of his people and oh man, he is MAD. He breaks the tablets he was carrying (a visual picture of what the Israelites had done by disobeying God’s commands), destroys the calf, and makes the people drink the powder from the recently-demolished idol (which seems a bit odd, to be honest). Moses then chastises Aaron for allowing this calf worship to happen, and Aaron immediately tries to shirk responsibility by blaming the evil people and claiming the calf just popped out of the fire like it had been in a magical Easy-Bake Oven (loose paraphrase). 

Hey buddy, I don’t think that’s gonna cut it. 

After this, the sons of Levi kill those who are not devoted to the Lord, Moses goes back up Sinai to plead with the Lord for his people once again, and the Lord instructs Moses to continue marching toward the Promised Land. I think it’s important to note here that the Israelites’ sins don’t go unpunished. In Exodus 32:35, we learn that “the Lord sent a plague on the people, because they made the calf, the one that Aaron made.” (Yeah, Aaron sounds pretty responsible here).

A note about God’s justice & punishment: Some of us may be scratching our heads at the killing of the ungodly and the plagues sent on the people. I think that’s completely understandable, because we don’t always comprehend the depth of sinfulness and the holiness of God. I wrote a few words about this on Instagram not too long ago if you want to hop over there and read more about God’s wrath & the atonement.

Okay, we’ve covered a good bit of ground… but let’s bring this full circle. Even though we may not make golden statues on the reg, we often behave a lot like the calf-worshiping Israelites. 

We try to add things to our worship of God. We attempt to fit God’s commandments into our own agendas. We say, “Oh, I just want to love Jesus and others,” but then we go on acting like His blood shed on the cross is not enough to save and His Word is not sufficient in how to live. (Please know that I’m lamenting over my past guiltiness here). 

Some of the things we worship aren’t always bad, in and of themselves. There are a plethora of examples I could give, but here are a few prevalent ones: acceptance, authority, health, safety, equality, experiences, empathy, prosperity, and patriotism.

None of these things can replace God. They aren’t worthy of our total allegiance and devotion. They cannot be added to the Gospel to gain heaven. Jesus Christ is the only Defeater of death. He is the only One who offers a true and lasting redemption.

Be aware of the false ideologies and insufficient gospels that are sneaking into our lives and churches. Be willing to speak truth in love as we remind one another, “As your neighbor, I want what’s best for you. And what’s best for you (and me) is to obey JESUS. He is the Way, the Truth, and the Life.”

We cannot keep unrepentantly putting ideologies, people, and platforms on the pedestal meant for God alone while still claiming the name of Christianity. I’ll say this again: the Lord’s throne occupancy is not up for revision. God alone is worthy, and He is a jealous God after His glory. Praise God for the following description of His overwhelming goodness (just a couple of chapters after the golden calf): 

The Lord, the Lord, a God merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness, keeping steadfast love for thousands, forgiving iniquity and transgression and sin, but who will by no means clear the guilty, visiting the iniquity of the fathers on the children and the children's children, to the third and the fourth generation.” And Moses quickly bowed his head toward the earth and worshiped. And he said, “If now I have found favor in your sight, O Lord, please let the Lord go in the midst of us, for it is a stiff-necked people, and pardon our iniquity and our sin, and take us for your inheritance” (Exodus 34:6-9).

There is wonderful news today, friends. The Lord sent His Own Son to pardon our sins! He was nailed to that tree and bore the punishment we deserve. By grace, through faith. We don’t have to earn our spot, accomplish an agenda, or come up with our own guilt offerings. We can live in eternity with Him because of His good and holy sacrifice. There is really only one acceptable response to this news, and it looks a lot like Moses’s response: let’s bow our heads and worship Him alone.

Let’s stop glorifying our gold; God alone deserves all the glory, honor, and praise!

 
Alex Fly
this one's for the girls.
 
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[cue Martina]

I turn 30 next week, which is a little surreal. The past year felt like a weird Groundhog Day scenario, so maybe I should just keep claiming 29? I don’t know… between witnessing a pandemic and protests, having a newborn baby and making it through a drawn-out election, I’m pretty sure I aged about 10 years, so I guess my claim doesn’t really hold up in court. I’ve also lived through one-too-many seasons as an Auburn football fan, which means the age of my heart is approximately 100 (if you know, you know).

30 isn’t old; I realize that. But reaching a new decade of life does make me do more reflecting. It makes me think about where I thought I’d be and where I am, all the things I thought I would know, and all the things God has done despite my “knowledge” or lack thereof. Gaining another year makes me ask, “What would I tell myself if I could go back in time?”

So here’s a list of advice for younger girls, in true 13-Going-on-30 style. Maybe you can share with your teenage girls. Maybe we can all gain a bit of courage for walking forward in the person God has called us to be. Or maybe my daughter will read this one day and think, “Wow, my mom was so cool and what on earth is 13 Going on 30?” (She has very little hope for not inheriting our sarcasm). And then I’ll tell her all about Jennifer Garner, the Jen-Ben romance, and the quick death of good rom-coms. 

Okay, here we go. 

Dear girl,

I don’t know where you live or what dreams you have or the kinds of clothes you wear, but I know you struggle. Because we all do. And we can probably find some common ground in the places we’ve walked—insecure and searching, confused and anxious and constantly seeking approval where we shouldn’t.

I have a few suggestions for you, most of which I wish I could go back and tell my teenage self. I probably wouldn't listen, but maybe you'll hear me out? If not, just be aware that I'm over here cheering for you. 

First off, these days that you're wading through right now may be really great or really hard. Either way, please know that this season isn’t all there is. You might just realize that some of your biggest worries aren't really that big and some of your fears aren't really that scary. And if the fears and worries keep knocking at the door, I have some good news (which I’ll get to in a second).

I know this is so oppositely-cliché, but don’t follow your heart. Your heart probably wants to scream at your parents and get back together with your crappy ex-boyfriend. Your heart is wrong a lot of the time. Listen to the people who love you and make decisions that honor God. 

Emotions matter, but they do not matter most. Don’t grant blind obedience to your feelings. Instead, submit to the King of kings. Like a parent guides a child with rules and discipline and love, God wants to guide you. Let Him.

Being wise is better than being smart. By all means, be dedicated to school and academics, but be more dedicated to studying the Bible. This is where true wisdom lies. This is where the answer to everything lies. 

Show people your genuine self over your curated one. Tell them your dreams and fears and joys and frustrations. If you don't have friends like that, go out and find them. Then hold them tight and make lots of goofy, ridiculous, wonderful memories together. 

You know that one person who gets under your skin more than anyone else on the planet? Pray for them. It will do all kinds of weird and wonderful things to your soul. Remember that hurting people often hurt people; a little kindness and empathy toward others can go a long way.

Listen to your favorite songs when you’re in a bad mood. Turn off the devices every once in a while. Instead of scrolling, pull out paint or pencils and make big, crazy art. Sit in silence with your thoughts. Write stuff down. Read a lot of books and be generous with a laugh.

Don’t forget to take chances and take notes, be silly and sacrificial and pour out (real & Biblical) love to all kinds of people. Be quick to listen, slow to speak (tweet, instagram, tik-tok or whatever the kids are doing these days. Wow, I feel like a grandma), and slow to become angry. 

Please don’t let the world drag you down. Don’t let any person steal your joy. Don’t let hateful words ruin your hope. Don’t cling to the standards of this world. 

Dear one, the world will throw all kinds of insults, lies, and false promises at your feet, but you must not pick them up. You must always cling to hope. Because there is so much hope in Christ. He calls your name and gently whispers, “You are my beloved.” Don’t forget that you are uniquely and wonderfully made, knit together with specific purpose in your mother’s womb.

You will mess up (a lot). You will fall short (constantly). You will fail (both yourself and others). But while you are not enough, God is. He is there, ready to cast off your worries and forgive your sins if you surrender to Him. He has this crazy, beyond-comprehension love for you—deeper than the ocean and wider than the sky. The Lord of the Universe won the battle for you. He became the ultimate sacrifice, the essence of perfection, the symbol of Truth. Christ died and rose again, which means you now have a way to life. You don’t deserve this offer of new life and you never will. But that’s the agonizing beauty of the cross.

May you be cloaked in His love, washed in His mercy, redeemed by His grace. May your name be written on the palm of His hand. May your life bring Him glory. 

I hope, with all of my heart, that you will know the hard but Good News: only in Jesus can our worthiness be found. We cannot make it on our own. His way is better. His rules are good. His promises will not fail.

And I think all of us, no matter the age, need this reminder—

the best identity is not found anywhere in this world; it is hidden in Christ. 

Run to His arms, over and over again. Lay down all of the things you were never meant to carry. Hand over your mistakes, worries, fears, and sins to Jesus. Follow His lead.

You will find security and joy and a love like no other. Hardships will continue to come, I’m certain of it. But the old hymn remains true regardless of circumstances: ‘Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus.

Keep looking up, sister. You are the daughter of a King.

Cheering for you,

Alex

 
Alex Fly