Good morning. Grace and peace to you.
(Yesterday on the blog: The Parenting Book Too Few Parents Read)

Izaac Cowling takes a look at the famous YouTuber MrBeast. This seems like key information: “YouTube has a growing cultural influence which Christians need to think about. For many believers under twenty-five years of age, YouTube is TV. It’s where they get their entertainment, news, and sports highlights. This means YouTubers, such as MrBeast, have the cultural influence that the biggest television stars and shows had in the past.”

This is a tribute to the ones (especially in the local church) who cook.

Church Social makes tracking member contributions a breeze. Treasurers can input and track donations to various funds, and then generate statements and tax receipts. It works with your existing accounting software. Members can even log in to view their own giving history and download tax receipts. (Sponsored Link)

Aaron explains why he had to ditch Twitter. “It’s all so unreasonable. I don’t have much interest in that. Part of why it’s so unpleasant is that factionalism requires you to draw hard lines on virtually every issue. While Christianity has hard lines that need to be upheld, not everything needs to be a disagreement. We can agree to disagree on some matters and it’s okay.”

“When my dear wife stopped breathing, I instinctively and instantaneously began yearning for the wholeness that had been. Though I longed for a quick fix, the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob does not guarantee his members two-day shipping. At times, we will have to wait weeks, months, years, and even lifetimes for God to restore and heal what has been lost. In other words to grieve well, we must learn to wait well.”

There may not be a lot of application to make here (or maybe there is and I just haven’t discovered it yet), but I found it interesting to consider names in the Bible that are repeated twice. “Plenty of Old and New Testament passages have dialogue where a character’s name is mentioned. But there are occasions—and you can hold them in two hands—when the Lord calls someone’s name twice in a row.”

Barbara reflects on one of those occasions when she allowed a small frustration to boil over.

Sin aims always at the utmost. Owen employs anthropomorphism to make sin something living and active, a being with an evil mind and insidious design.

Dear Lord, what have we to be proud of? Proud of our scales. Proud of our uncleanness. Proud of this killing infection. Bring us down at thy feet weeping, praying, penitent, believing, suppliant.
—De Witt Talmage

In the past couple of years I have learned more about cemeteries than I would ever have cared to know. I have learned about purchasing plots and commissioning monuments. I have learned about proper etiquette and how different cultures relate to their dearly departed in very different ways. I have learned that a grave offers a place to go to grieve and, as importantly, a place to leave grief behind for a time.

One thing we learned quickly is that while a cemetery will take great care in burying a loved one, raising a monument, and sodding over the stark, bare earth, they will take very little care in watering that grass or ensuring that it grows and thrives. Once the grave is closed and the grass replaced, they will offer only the barest maintenance. That’s true, at least, of the cemetery we chose for our son.
We cannot tolerate the thought of Nick’s grave being covered in dry, brown grass. We cannot tolerate the thought of it becoming overgrown with weeds. We cannot tolerate the thought of it looking overlooked and abandoned. And so we tend to it with great care. We visit it regularly. We water it diligently. We maintain a tiny garden that sits up against the gravestone, adapting it to the seasons.
I might have been tempted to believe that grass would grow best if was only ever sunny and that flowers would thrive best under the constant glare of the sun. I might have been tempted to believe that days of gloom and cloud would slow progress and inhibit growth. But I have come to observe that this is not the case, for clouds bring rain and rain brings life. Meanwhile, unbroken sun quickly dries the ground and leaves it parched. We have come to look forward to dark skies and brooding clouds, for we know the grass will soon be greener, the flowers brighter and straighter, all of it more colorful and more beautiful.
You and I are not too different from grass and flowers, for as God sees fit to have them grow through sun and rain, he sees fit to have us grow through joy and grief. As it is his will that they display their beauty through good weather and bad, it is his will that we display our beauty through easy times and difficult. The beauty he wishes for us to display is the beauty of character that is heavenly rather than worldly, that is divine rather than so naturally human.
Such character does not come easily to us, for we enter the Christian life with long-established patterns of sinfulness and selfishness, of caring much for ourselves and little for others. For our lives to display godly beauty, we must be changed, we must be transformed. And this kind of transformation needs more than ease, more than merely good times.
For this reason God leads us into times of grief and sorrow, times of sickness and loss, times of pain and persecution. He knows that for us to truly thrive in this world and for us to truly be fit for what lies beyond it, we need both sun and rain, both joy and sorrow. In the bright sun of the best of times we may grow in love and joy and peace and patience, for these virtues tend to be the ones that spring up first and bloom fastest. But it is often only in the dark gloom of the worst of times that we grow in kindness and gentleness and self-control, for virtues like these tend to grow slowly and only under specific conditions. If we are to be the Christians God wishes us to be, we must have sun and rain, clear days and cloudy.
And so, as we approach times of sorrow and suffering, when they sweep over us with all their pain and all their tears, all their agony and all their uncertainty, we never need fear that God has forgotten us or forsaken us. We never need fear that we will emerge worse than we entered in. For God has ordained that these times are necessary for our growth, necessary for us to take on the beauty of godly character. God has ordained that we will be like flowers—flowers that spring up in the rain.

Have you ever been poked in the eye? Or have you ever gotten a speck of dust in your eye and learned how it takes just the tiniest piece of grit to cause the severest amount of pain? The smallest particle of dirt has the ability to incapacitate the biggest and strongest of men when it lodges in his eyeball. The eye is fragile and precious and we rightly guard it from harm.

There are a number of places in Scripture where God refers to his people as “the apple of his eye”—a delightful phrase that has been translated and adopted by the English language. The apple of the eye is the dark circle, the pupil, the tenderest and most important part. It is the part we protect with the greatest of care.
In Deuteronomy 32 Israel is referred to in this way. “[God] encircled him, he cared for him, he kept him as the apple of his eye.” In Psalm 17 David is desperate for protection and asks God, “Keep me as the apple of your eye; hide me in the shadow of your wings.” The phrase appears again in Proverbs and in Lamentations, and these repeated uses demonstrate the love God has for his people. Just as we protect the pupil as a particularly weak and vulnerable part of the body, God protects his weak and vulnerable people. God’s people plead with him to protect them in the way they so earnestly protect their own eyes.
There is one further reference that comes in the closing chapters of the Old Testament. There Zechariah prophesies and proclaims, “For thus said the Lord of hosts, after his glory sent me to the nations who plundered you, for he who touches you touches the apple of his eye…” Here God is warning the nations that if they harm Israel they will effectively be harming God—they will be poking him in the eye. And just as any human being will swat away the finger that attempts to jab itself into the pupil, God will swat away the enemy that attempts to harm his chosen ones. God so identifies with Israel, he so loves them and cares for them, that they are like that most precious and tender part of his body.
We do not need to look hard or look far today to find people who mean to do damage to God’s people—no longer ethnic Israel, but the church God has called from all nations, tribes, and tongues. The laws of many countries, and increasingly those in the West, are turning against God’s people. Those who pass such laws and those who enforce them should be warned—they are reaching out a finger toward the eye of God. And even where the laws have not been militarized against God’s people, many individuals, many organizations, and many corporate policies have been. Here too people ought to know and consider—they are poking God in the eye.
But I think there is another application that ought to concern you and me. We need to know that when we turn on our fellow Christians, when we hurt or harm them, when we belittle or insult them, we are likewise poking God in the eye. When we exaggerate their faults or diminish their graces, we are reaching out a finger toward his pupil. When we treat them poorly instead of well, when we tear them down instead of build them up, when we curse them instead of bless them, we are like a piece of grit in the eye of God.
And we should not expect that God will stand idly by while we do damage to what he regards as most precious. We should not expect that God will sanction such violence or that he will long tolerate such sin. We should not expect that he will shrug his shoulders in apathy as a finger repeatedly gouges his eye.
God loves his people—the people he called and justified, the people he sanctified and glorified, the people who belong to him. He loves them and will protect them. So be warned. Be warned when you are tempted to mistreat them, be warned when you are tempted to do or say what would harm them—he will protect his very own people in the way you protect your very own pupil. For they, for we, are the apple of his eye.
Note: My understanding of the original Hebrew phrase is that it translates most naturally to something like “the dark part of the eye” and the “apple” is an especially evocative English translation.