Author: Jon Gauger

At our house, we call it “getting beautiful.”

It's the process of standing in front of the bathroom mirror, trying to make ourselves look presentable.

Ava and Emma (ages eight and five) have grown to love this time because Diana curls their hair and adorns their cherubic faces with a bit of blush or eye makeup. They like it so much that if my wife is running late (and they don't want to wait around), before running off to play, the girls will plead with Diana, “Don’t get beautiful without us!”

We all want to be lovely. But the ugly truth is, apart from Christ, we haven’t even a shred of beauty. However, because of Christ, we are fully “accepted in the beloved” (Ephesians 1:6). If you know Christ, you are at this moment, this age, this dress or waist size fully acceptable, fully pleasing in His sight. So, stop agonizing over the question, “Am I lovely?”

That said, you will never be lovelier than when you love the unlovely. And loving the unlovely is a powerful trait Christ seeks in our lives. In Matthew 5:44,45, Jesus declared, 

But I say to you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may prove yourselves to be sons of your Father who is in heaven.

I don’t know about you, but I find it much easier to serve/assist/love people who talk, look, and live like me. But the homeless guy that wanders around our train station makes me uncomfortable. So does the lady who shouts profanity into her phone at 5:55 am. I haven't loved either of them very well.

The folks who seem determined to take away our freedoms, destroy the family, and relish likening Christians to the Taliban— these are the very people Christ calls us to love. So much for equating love with a rose bouquet or heart-shaped box of chocolates.

It’s great to be loved—and lovely. And because of Christ, we are both. But surely—surely—there is some unlovely person in your life who needs to see something of the beauty of Jesus in you.

Who are the unlovely people in your life? What could you do to enter into their world in a Jesus kind of way?

Happy Valentine’s Day!

 

 

Lying on a metal table while being slid into a claustrophobia-inducing tube is nobody’s idea of a fun time. But that’s where my wife, Diana, found herself recently.

As she tried not to think about how uncomfortable that cylindrical scanner made her feel, Diana noticed the MRI machine seemed to be tapping out a (loud!) rhythm pattern in 4/4. So, she decided to sing herself hymns and praise songs—to the rhythm of the machine. She recounts how that choice greatly impacted her ability to overcome the discomfort.

Difficult tests are nothing new. But Diana's strategy of praising in the middle of the discomfort is profoundly biblical.

Fleeing from his murder-minded son, Absalom, David wrote, "Many are rising up against me" (Psalm 3:2). But in the middle of this horrific family revolt, he ends his Psalm declaring, "Salvation belongs to the Lord; may Your blessing be upon Your people" (Psalm 3:8). But please note, the drama was still unfolding, and circumstances were still tense!

Consider Jonah’s declaration—while still sloshing in the belly of the whale: “But I will sacrifice to You with a voice of thanksgiving. That which I have vowed I will pay. Salvation is from the Lord.” (Jonah 2:9).

Then, ponder Paul and Silas. Their backs were still oozing with pus and blood while their legs ached from the chafing of chains. Yet Acts 16:25 records, “Now about midnight, Paul and Silas were praying and singing hymns of praise to God, and the prisoners were listening to them.”

Hebrews 13:15 urges, “Let’s continually offer up a sacrifice of praise to God, that is, the fruit of lips praising His name.” The thing about sacrifices is—they always cost.

Have you noticed how natural and easy it is to sing praise songs in church on Sundays? The lighting is perfect. The stage is perfect. The sound is perfect. So, praise flows normally and naturally. We love it! Let's be honest, though. As lovely as it may be, that kind of praise doesn't cost us much.

But offering God our praise from inside the prison, inside the whale, or the MRI machine—now that is a “praise of great price.” May God help us as we seek to give Him that praise of great price!

There’s something sick about a society that demands we prove our loyalty to some— by hating others. But in today's America, we seem to have lost our capacity to disagree without being ugly. Worse, we’re proud of it.

If you want to be "in" with Crowd A, you can't just prefer A or disagree with Crowd B; you must positively despise the other guys. And prove it with your poison-loaded posts! This, in an age of “inclusiveness” and “tolerance.” Beyond hubris, this is hogwash—not to mention harmful.

Though I'm no fan of rap music and don't endorse Snoop Dogg as a role model, I was intrigued by what happened when he agreed to sing at an inaugural event for President Trump. He was thoroughly trashed on social media. And much of the trash talk was predictably vulgar.

Snoop—who currently has 88.1 million Instagram followers — lost more than 570,000 after his performance. But his response is noteworthy. He said, "For all the hate, I'm going to answer with love. We gotta learn how to pick each other up rather than put each other down."

Snoop Dogg, it should be noted, has his own history of caustic comments (as does President Trump). Yet his point is valid. More than that, Snoop is right.

Whether it's Democrats versus Republicans, union workers versus non-union, American citizens versus illegal aliens, how can we call ourselves Christ-followers if we engage in conversations that:

• Soak in sarcasm…
• Bake in bitterness…
• Pickle with poison…

By contrast, Colossians 4:6 demands of us, "Your speech must always be with grace, as though seasoned with salt so that you will know how you should respond to each person."

Yes, we have opinions. Yes, there are issues and people that “get our goat.” But shouldn’t we be different? Shouldn’t we be better?

Stop the hate! That’s more than a slogan on the back of an NFL helmet.

It’s the JESUS way—and we had better find that way and live that way.

“See that no one repays another with evil for evil but always seek what is good for one another and for all people.”

-1Thessalonians 5:15

Are you robbing God?

“What kind of ridiculous question is that?” you reply.

It’s a legitimate question, that’s what kind.

For many years, I've designated my time on the train ride into Chicago for Bible reading and prayer. Nothing else is supposed to infringe. It's a simple commitment, and this habit has significantly blessed me. What could be a better start to the day?

But for some reason, lately, I've struggled. My phone routinely buzzes with an "urgent" text from a family member or an "essential" email from a guest we will interview. Then, there's that task I forgot to put on the calendar and must do before I forget again. And—really—could it possibly be a sin to check on the latest NFL standings briefly?

I recall opening my Bible on more than one occasion but then getting lost in so many of my phone's pings, dings, and rings, I was jolted back to consciousness only by the train conductor's announcement that we were approaching our last stop—the Chicago train station. In other words, I'd completely missed my time with God.

Knowing you've frittered away an exclusive audience with the King of the universe for tasks and people who could have waited makes for a rotten feeling. How sickening to ponder I've given everything and everyone priority over God.

The only honest label for this is—robbing God. 

You ask, “But can’t you make that time up later?” Not really. Once I arrive at the office, it’s time to get cracking on all the scripts, recordings, and editing that await. In essence, I've managed to start—and finish—an entire workday without the blessing that comes from being with God. And yes, I could recreate that time with the Lord on the ride home or later in the evening. But it’s just not the same.

It’s like setting up a special date with a friend or spouse, forgetting about it, and then promising to make up the time. You can do it. But it’s still not the same.

When someone is a priority, you know it. And they know it.

Not by our words but by our actions.

So—are you robbing God?

 

“But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness…”

—Matthew 6:33

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Unless you are Danielle Steele, Dean Koontz, J.K. Rowling, or Stephen King, you probably need coaching with your writing. Being in great need, I’m greatly helped by an online grammar checker. It sniffs out sentences written in the passive voice, adjectives whose modified nouns are unclear, commas that have been misplaced or misused—and many other writing sins.

Though I tend to accept most suggestions, I was bemused by a message that popped up in a recent critique of something I’d written (screenshot below):

"The word Jesus appears repeatedly in this text. Consider changing it or rewriting the sentence to avoid the repetition.”

Obviously, that assessment is the product of an algorithm, not the expression of a real person. Nevertheless, a large and growing segment of Americans share that precise sentiment.

We’re okay with God. Or gods. We are not okay with Jesus.

Our culture now dictates, "Pray, privately, if you must–and in public very rarely. Above all, never pray in Jesus’ name." Because the truth is, for some, any mention of Jesus is too many.

In case you’re wondering, my response to that online critique was to ignore it. I did not remove or replace a single reference to Jesus. And neither should you.

This world has never been a friend to Jesus or His followers. And things are about to get a lot more “un-chummier.” But let’s not change our love or our loyalty. Let’s not avoid Jesus. Let’s cling to Him all the more.

 “For whoever is ashamed of Me and My words, the Son of Man will be ashamed of him when He comes in His glory and the glory of the Father and the holy angels.

Luke 9:26

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When Ava and Emma asked me to play "Old Elf" (think Old Maid but with a bearded gnome), I plopped down on the floor and dutifully picked up my cards.

As she nestled next to me, the game in full swing, Emma “couldn’t help” but notice what was in my hand: one last card (which you’ve correctly guessed was “the old elf”). Five-year-old Emma could have chosen to draw a card from her sister. Yet her big blue eyes narrowed as she softly stated, “I want to do this for you.” I tried to talk her out of it, reminding her she would lose the whole game. But she insisted again, “I want to do this for you.”

For a moment, her gesture transported me to a dank hall, where torchlight flickered on a circle of faces unusually hardened. In the center of that circle stood a man whose hands were tied.

The prisoner looked directly into the eyes of a thug menacing a wooden stick, a knot on the end. Walloping the skull of the prisoner, the ruffian heard an unlikely reply from the bruised head: "I want to do this for you."

Another came forward with a fiendish grin—and a crown of thorns. As this brute jammed the crown on the prisoner's head, he declared quietly to his attacker, "I want to do this for you."

Another slapped the prisoner's face. Another spat in it. Still, another drew blood and pus as he ripped out a section of the guy's beard. To all of them, the prisoner said softly, "I want to do this for you."

There were others—many others—a soldier with a bone-laced whip and an executioner bearing a hammer and nails. The prisoner, weakened as he was, whispered gently to all of them, "I want to do this for you."

He said it and said it and said it. All the way to the cross. All across the ages. All the way to this very moment.

Consider. Jesus wasn’t a hapless victim dying a helpless death. He did it for you.

And the unspeakable reason is—He wanted to.

But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners,

Christ died for us.

-Romans 5:8

 

 

 

 

 

From a distance, it looked impressive. Quietly majestic, even.

Hiking through the park, I wandered off the (literally) beaten bath to check out a tree whose circumference was 136 inches. That's 11 feet four inches around.

Only up close would you notice this tree has a hole in the trunk. It's just about at eye height, so you can lean into the thing and see grass and trees on the other side (see photo below).

But what forces of nature could hollow out a tree? Drought? Disease? Rot from within? I'm sure this tree has a story, likely a sad one. And that story will only get sadder once the park district follows through on the destruction noted by a spraypainted X. Still, the longer I stared through that trunk, the stronger grew the sensation that this tree was a living (or perhaps more accurately, dying) metaphor.

Most of the believers you and I bump into in our daily lives look just fine on the outside. Healthy. Happy. Productive. But experience shows that more than a few are as hollowed out as that tree in the woods.

Which is a fancier way of saying they’re dying on the inside. Could be they’ve disconnected themselves from God—or feeding on His Word. Maybe they’ve cut themselves off from the spiritual nourishment that comes only in fellowship with other believers.

In nature, a hollowed-out tree is a death sentence. But hollowed-out souls are not beyond the restoring touch of God. Analyzing, assessing, or even passing judgment on these people is tempting. Yet, our task is not to criticize but to comfort. Not to bring blame but to bring balm.

It's a new year. Maybe we should worry less about resolutions—and worry more about restorations.

: souls with holes. Look for them. Love them.

And invite God to do the work that only He can do—restoring the hollow places.

We who are strong ought to bear with the failings of the weak and not to please ourselves. Each of us should please our neighbors for their good, to build them up.

-Romans 15:1,2

 

 

Letdown.

That's the emotional state for many of us on December 26. And no wonder.

We've shopped, dropped, wrapped, cleaned, and prepped. Then, all that work gets gobbled up in the time it takes to eat a piece of pie–almost.

We’ve looked forward to seeing family.

We’ve looked forward to being with friends.

We’ve looked forward to a restful break.

And now most of that is in the rearview mirror.

But could I suggest we're looking in the wrong direction?

Instead of looking back or looking down—we should be looking up.

Consider. If you know Christ as Savior, you are one day closer to His return—His second advent!

You are one day closer to:

• Relationships without regret.
• Life without funerals.
• Love without end.

No more widows or widowers.

No more thirsty or starving or trafficked children.

No more cancer. Or heart attacks. Or strokes.

No more meanness, measles, mumps, malaria, missiles, misery, mocking, murder, or mourning (I think you get the idea, so I'll spare you the rest of the alphabet).

Ponder the jaw-dropping joy of staring into the real face of our real Savior, Jesus. And because He will be there, sin won’t be! But our believing loved ones will be there. What a great company of saints! And—the angels, too.

At last, we’ll begin the beginning of the ultimate adventure!

Today—this day—you are one day closer to the return of Christ, the coming of His Kingdom, and the end of evil. So, join me in the joyous declaration that this is not just a good day; it's a great day! This 26^th day of December 2024 is not a letdown. It's a look-up!

“…We look forward with hope to that wonderful day when the glory of our great God and Savior, Jesus Christ, will be revealed.” 

-Titus 2:13

It’s official!

Today, December 19, we are just seven days away from…the start of the gift return line! Consider:

• Around 1 in 6 Christmas gifts will be taken back to stores.
• Approximately 1 in 3 three U.S. adults will make a return or exchange this Christmas season.
• 18-24 year-olds are five times more likely to return a gift than those 55 and up.
• Every year, Amazon returns cost the company more than $800 billion!

We have a friend who is famous—or maybe infamous—for all her shopping returns. At least one store has placed her on a No-Fly list. She now sends her husband to make her returns!

When you think about it, we all have stuff we wish we could "send back." I'm not talking about tools or, ties or toys. I'm thinking of:

• The hateful thing you wished you’d never said.
• The divorce you never wanted.
• The choices you regret every day of your life.

Where’s the line you stand in to take back those things?

What if I told you there is such a line? It begins at a manger in Bethlehem and tracks all the way to a cross in Jerusalem.

The fact is, the baby born at Christmas grew up to be the Savior of the world. He died on the cross to take away your failures, sins, and selfish living.

Jesus is the only One who can take the broken pieces of your world—your heart—and put them back together. Notice, I’m not talking about religion. I’m talking about a relationship with Jesus Christ. He said, “Come to Me, all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28).

If you’re tired of living under the crushing weight of regrets that never leave—receive the ultimate gift this Christmas: salvation through faith in Jesus. The Bible says, “For by grace you have been saved through faith; and this is not of yourselves, it is the gift of God not a result of works, so that no one may boast” (Ephesians 2:8,9).

Come to Jesus now. Admit your failures. Claim His forgiveness. Make Him the leader of your life—your Savior. If you ask Him, He will change your life and help you turn away from self-focused living.

And if you already know Christ but still find yourself laboring under regrets of all kinds, go back to Bethlehem and be reminded of the angel’s message to Joseph: “You shall name him Jesus, for he shall save his people from their sins.” That includes yours. All of them!

Merry Christmas!

It's our day-after-Thanksgiving tradition. I ascend the dusty heights of our garage door overhead storage, retrieving the interlocking plywood pieces that make up a nativity scene. The crèche is then assembled on the front lawn and illuminated with an LED spotlight (which sometimes actually works).

One night, as we pulled out of our driveway, Diana noticed a curious visual playing out on our home siding. It was an enormous shadow bearing a striking resemblance to the Joseph figure in our manger scene! The spotlight seems positioned at just the right angle and spacing to make Joseph look huge.

Ironically, his part in the Christmas story—and that of Jesus Himself—is comparatively small. It's so small you might label Joseph a background character. Once the Christmas drama unfolds, we hear no more from or about Joseph. He disappears off the page. Yet he casts a large shadow.

Seeing Joseph's image projected on our house siding made me think about the wide range of people in the body of Christ. Most of us are not in highly visible roles. There are few pastors and even fewer media personalities. We're background folks. We serve in out-of-the-way places doing mundane things often unseen or unknown by others.

There's no glamour, no glitz, no glory. Understandably, background people might wonder, "Am I making a difference? Does my life really count?

But consider.

• Someone had to follow the angel's instruction and name the baby Jesus.
• Someone had to work through the logistics of how the family would make their way to Egypt to escape Herod.
• Someone had to find a way to house and feed a struggling young refugee family in a foreign land.
• Someone had to raise Jesus and teach Him a trade.

That someone was Joseph—a background person. Because of his faithfulness and simple obedience, he casts a large shadow on the life of Christ and our lives to this day.

Do you see yourself as a background person? If so, your deeds are not unseen by your Heavenly Father. Your service matters. Your kindness matters—and may well cast a large shadow.

Recall that in heaven's economy, "the first will be last and the last will be first" (Matthew 19:30). There, we will see your "small" faithfulness for the largeness that it is. So don't give up! Your shadow is showing!

Let’s not become discouraged in doing good, for in due time we will reap, if we do not become weary.

-Galatians 6:9