Sorry for the proliferation of links and negligible posts lately.  My two seminary classes have been taking up all my time.  Having the four-day weekend is about the only thing that saved me, I think.

I’m realizing how easy it is to grow complacent in walking with God.  The dynamic pursuit of true spirituality can quickly fade into a lifeless rhythm that rocks you to sleep.  And there is nothing more dangerous than spiritual sleep.  And probably nothing more comfortable.

John Piper said, “Few things frighten me more than the beginnings of barrenness that come from frenzied activity with little spiritual food and meditation.”  Howard Hendricks said, “Could it be that the busyness of your ministry is simply the anesthetic to deaden the pain of a lifeless ministry?”  The wise man said, “Watch over your heart with all diligence, for from it flow the springs of life” (Proverbs 4:23).

I grew up in a solid Christian home.  I was homeschooled all the way through high school.  I was a Bible major at The Master’s College.  I’ve done full-time ministry here for four years.  I’m about to graduate from The Master’s Seminary.  I’ve spent two and a half decades in the church.  I know the ropes.  I know the lingo.  I know the drill.

I can fool a lot of people.  It’s really not too hard.  I know what my friends believe and what they value.  I know what they respect and what they look down on.  I know how the people all around me think.  I know the game, and I know how to play it.  So do you.

But there’s one person I can’t fool.  Ever.  I never have, and I never will.

And that person wants my heart.  Not my empty liturgy, not my dragging prayers, not my dusty traditions.  Not my scheduled piety, not my heartless ministry, not my unwarranted reputation.  God wants my heart.

He wants my allegiance.  He wants my passion.  He wants my single-mindedness.  He wants my desires and my fears and my hopes and my dreams and my trembling and my pleading and my battling and my longing and my repentance and my worship.  He wants my devotion.  And He wants my devotion more than He wants my devotions.

He wants my heart.  And He wants yours.  I would suggest that you give Him no less.  Because to give less is neither satisfying in this life nor safe in the next.

Don’t get complacent.  Don’t grow cold.  Get in there and rip the callouses off your soul if you have to.  It will hurt, but we both know that true repentance never came without God-centered anguish.  And genuinely God-centered anguish never led to anything but restoration, renewal, joy, peace and fruitfulness.

Welcome to the wasteland of complacency.  Let’s get out of here.